#but he’s also trying to be so big so I wanna encourage him

[kikker-oma]

He be floatin’

[waitingonher]

ALL DA LADIES LUV LEO! — [leo valdez dating headcanons]

author's note: i am ladies. where's my irl leo...wtf.

you and LEO VALDEZ are the definition of ��if you do it, i’ll do it.” (a VERY common phrase in your relationship)

istg this guy is down to do ANYTHING. you wanna play dress-up and do his makeup? go ahead. you wanna participate in some cheesy couple trend? of course! he’d do anything to make you happy <3 (even if it means ruining his dignity) 

leo has so much love for you, and he is NOT afraid to show it. he for sure owns a million different variations of the “i ❤️my girlfriend” tee-shirt. he’s worn them so much that even chiron and mr. d stopped pestering him for not wearing the chb shirt 😭 

y’know that one topic you could talk about for hours on end? yeah, well you’re the topic leo could talk about for hours on end. you always feel bad for the unfortunate new camper who decides to ask “who’s on your shirt?” it always ends in them making an excuse to get out of the conversation. 

some may say he’s obsessed…i just call it the bare minimum!! 🤗

leo absolutely LIVES for your little gossip sessions. he’s not one of those bf’s who will try to give actual advice on how to handle the situation,, he’s the type to fully shit talk the person with you 😭 you guys are literally the “she’s also ugly…” audio and i know for a fact you guys have made a video using it LMFAO

he also has the entire timeline memorized. he could tell you exactly what month, what day, and what time so and so wronged you if you asked 😭 leo’s absolutely invested and will ask for updates every so often. 

considering how leo spends so much of his time in bunker 9, it’s almost your second home at this point. you can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve fallen asleep sitting with him as he’s worked on a project. but leo always carries you to bed! there’s no way he could allow his girlfriend to wake up with a sore neck! 

speaking of bunker 9, leo keeps a bulletin board full of photos with you and all your friends next to his workbench! when working on a particularly hard project, he’ll look over at the photos for some motivation. 

there’s nothing better than successfully convincing leo to come to bed, especially during those cold winter nights. he’s basically a big heater that can walk and talk. and leo’s super duper big on cuddling so it’s even better. why invest in a heater when you have him? 

LMFAO it’s so funny when it’s summer and he’s basically on his knees begging for cuddles 😭 it’s only then that he curses his strangely high body temperature.  

i also think it’s canon that leo’s a good cook…?? so you’re always eating good with him!! he just loves seeing your reaction to his food, especially when it’s your cultural food. leo knows how important it is to you and to know he could provide some semblance of what you grew up with, it makes him beyond happy. 

when you give him hugs from behind while he’s cooking >>> 

he melts every single time.

omg. breakfast in bed with leo. him shirtless wearing an apron that says “kiss the cook” while bringing you a plate with all your favorite breakfast foods <33 

pda king 🙏🙏 he loves pda, but not in the gross, obnoxious way. leo’s obviously smart enough to know when it’s the right time and place. 

he’s also really big on “splitting the pole” LMFAO 😭 if you’re walking down the street and a street sign is in the way he will literally pull you to his side while screaming, “don’t split the pole!” babes…it’s not that serious 🤒

his love languages are words of affirmations and acts of service. there’s nothing better than coming home to cuddle with you as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear after a long day. he really values all your thoughts and opinions, so it means so much to him when you say these things. 

when it comes to you, leo’s so incredibly supportive with everything you do. the minute you even slightly hint about picking up a new hobby, he’s already encouraging you to do it. 

he gets so upset when he gets those “these initials are soulmates” videos and your initials aren’t together 😭 one time you woke up to an entire essay-length text from him explaining why you two are extremely compatible in response to a video that said “these initials aren’t compatible” 

leo’s VERY attentive, especially when it comes to you. at this point, it’s like he knows you better than you know yourself. he always knows what you’re gonna say simply by your reaction. his brain literally goes “oh her right eyebrow raised slightly, i think she likes it!” and he ends up being right too.. 😭

or when he goes shopping without you and he sees something he thinks you’d like, and it ends up being something you’ve been wanting for the past few weeks?? at this point he might be reading your mind…

this also makes him the best gift giver ever! it could’ve been something you barely mentioned before bed, but he made a point to remember it and surprises you with it. 

he also likes to make you little gadgets that you never would’ve even thought of but are so helpful. one day you walk into your bathroom and leo’s sitting there polishing his newest project, and he tells you it’s a towel heater he made for you??? 

leo absolutely loves your family and will do everything in his power to build a close relationship with them. he knows how happy it makes you and he also just genuinely enjoys their company too! ooh and if you have siblings, especially if they’re younger, he just adores them to death…UGH he’s so so good with kids. 

whenever he buys you flowers, he also buys some for your mom too!! and considering his mechanic skills, he loves to work with your dad with his car/whatever needs fixing around the house  😭😭 your parents basically treat him like their own son and leo feels so incredibly lucky to have you guys in his life. 

this guy’s your #1 hype man + your personal tripod. when he’s taking your picture he’s literally screaming compliments behind the camera while suggesting poses for you to do 😭 he’s just so silly like that! and then when you post it, he’s up in the comments like “i took these where’s my credit  🤨🤨” 

you guys are at each other’s cabins so often that no one’s ever fazed when you’re at the door. they’re just like “who’s at the door?” “just y/n again.” 

and his siblings absolutely love you to death. they see how happy you make him and they love you for it. but they’re also strangely protective of you too. when you and leo get into those rare arguments they’re always like “what’d you do this time  🤨?” to him LMAO 

ugh but your younger siblings and his younger siblings all look up to you guys like you’re the pinnacle of love. it’s genuinely so sweet,, they always talk about how they want a relationship like you two when they’re older 

dancing in the refrigerator light but in bunker 9 under his workbench light.

i like to believe that leo always has music playing when he works, so when a good dancing song comes on, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to dance with you. 

sometimes it’ll be a song where you guys are just silently slow dancing together or it’s a song that has you two jumping up and down going crazy. the duality of his playlist! 

i just KNOW that at some point in your relationship, leo makes you a promise ring gjkdslfsl and i bet the stone has some sort of significance to you guys.

sometimes when you can’t wear it on your finger, you’ll string it onto your chb necklace and he just gets so giddy knowing that you care that much about it 😣

SPEAKING THROUGH MORSE CODE WITH HIM?? specifically when you’re in bed, both are too tired to talk, so you feel him tap “i love you” against your skin and you send the message back. 

can we all collectively agree that leo is like the most perfect boyfriend ever?? 😍😍 thanks!

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hi lovely!! Firstly I want to say I love your works 🥰🥰 always happy to see someone keeping the poly!marauders tag alive! Could I request poly!marauders with fem!reader who just got her wisdom teeth out? Or some sort of procedure where they’re under anesthesia I’m not picky 😭😭 it’s always so cute to see reader all loopy and their bfs like “she’s so cute I want to eat her 😍”

Feel free to ignore this if you don’t vibe with it!! Love you loads 🎀

Thank you so much baby! I relate to this so much because in the two ish weeks I wasn't posting I actually got mine out! Love you loads as well! fem!reader x poly!marauders.

cw: surgery, pain meds, anesthesia

619 words

“C'mon, sweet thing. Let’s get you inside.” James coaxed, gently. He was basically holding you up as you stumbled over the threshold of your home, still spacey from the anesthesia and pain medicine. 

“W- we’re home!” You slurred, muffled by the gauze in the back of your mouth. You tried to struggle free from James’ grasp, but he held fast to your arm. He was far stronger than you in typical circumstances, but in your inebriated state it was like a bunny trying to tug on an elephant. 

“Easy, love.” Remus chided, placing the hand that wasn’t holding your prescriptions on your shoulder. 

“I can do it myself.” You pulled against your boyfriends’ hold again, missing Sirius' lovingly annoyed expression in your determination.

“I’m sure you can, baby.” Sirius placated. “But then you would be denying us the pleasure of helping you. Don’t be mean and let us help you, yeah?” He rubbed up and down your arm through your thick sweater. 

“I wasn’t trying to be mean.” You said, voice wobbling with misery. Remus avoided the strong urge to swat his boyfriend. 

“You’re never mean lovie,” James cut his eyes to Sirius before fixing you with an awfully kind look. “Pads is just being a git, yeah?” He encouraged you to lie down on the bed.

“He’s not a git!” You shot back. “I love him!” Sirius thought he could cry from fondness on the spot. 

“Aw, I love you too, baby.” He knelt down to stroke your hair and resisted the urge to kiss your swollen cheeks. James helped you under the covers while Remus set the bag of care supplies on the dresser. You made grabby hands at Sirius, trying to pull him on top of you. (sober you would die before being that blatant in wanting)

“Gentle, dovey. You’re fragile right now, don’t hurt yourself” Remus gently scolded. 

“B- but I wanna cuddle!” You whined. James wondered if your words right now were just your internal thoughts all the time, he kind of hoped they were. Sirius gently moved you over enough for him to crawl in, holding you to lie on your back while he wrapped his arms around you. Remus was still by the dresser, reading the instructions again and setting out your medications. James leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Thank you for doing this.” He whispered, stroking the taller boy's hair. 

“Don’t mention it. I just know when she wakes again she is going to feel awful.” Remus winced. 

“She’s a trooper, though.” James added. “Remember they had to wheel me to the car when I got mine taken out. I also sobbed the whole way home and had a death grip on Pads so much he had bruises.” He recalled from his operation. 

“Yeah, you were a big baby, huh?” Remus teased. 

“Exactly,” Sirius piped up, holding onto your now sleeping form. You were out cold, some of the meds still clearly in your system. “At least she’s a cute baby.” 

“Oi! You said I was cute!" James said furiously. 

“You were, love. You always are.” Remus said, cheeks flaming. James sighed, looking at you. 

“She’s so precious I could eat her.” He said, lovelorn. 

“Don’t think she’s gonna want that for a while, Prongs.” Sirius teased, still stroking your arms and hair.

“Get your mind out of the gutter!” James scolded, walking over to the bed and flopping down on your other side, Remus close on his tail. He kissed your head chastely, steering clear from any sore areas. You stirred in your sleep, not discontentedly, but rather reveling in their hold.

Your boyfriends didn’t know if they could survive this amount of fondness, but they weren’t complaining.

[latetaektalk]

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!

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.3 (Uncle!Sukuna x Teacher!Auntie!Reader)

Alright yall pt.3 also the FINALEEEE lmao I hope you guys enjoyed this lmao and uhhh thank you for the love n support!

This part is a bit longer than the other ones so I hope yall enjoy ll I got a lil crazy wit this. Just for reference this part is NSFW so uhh minors get tf gone lmao.

Warninga: Obviously nsfw, fingering, p in v, slight choking/biting? Very faint, mild overstim, bathroom sex lol, saliva as lube?, try to be quiet trope?

ENJOY!~

Part 2 here

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He's got his hands busy with the flesh of your thighs, kneading them as your mouths work against one another in unison. He groans the feeling of you seated against his clothed length enough to drive him crazy. Sukuna'd be lying if he said he didn't love how you'd whine at his slight upward thrust, your thighs clenching a bit.

The true task at hand here was to not wake Yuji who was sleeping rather soundly in his room. However, that was becoming increasingly difficult. Sukuna insists on lifting you up a bit just so he can roll his hips into yours, desperate enough to have you both basically dry-humping on the couch.

Your nightshirt keeps slipping down your shoulder so he takes it as a sign to press kisses there, your head lolling back and he skilfully captures the back of your head, his canines scraping against your pulse, his breath hot against the flesh there.

"W-Wait shouldn't we-" You begin, feeling a bit guilty about being intimate on someone else's furniture.

"Nuh-uh, you tryna find excuses now ain't you? Don't wanna mess up my brother's nice couch?" He grins, successfully forcing your eye contact.

"I just don't wanna be rude." You admit, whimpering again when he grinds up into you, vocalizing a groan in response himself.

"That's fine. I got a better idea." He admits, not only standing but easily hoisting you up long with him, his bulge pressed deliciously against your clothed cunt.

"What? Where?" You're clinging to him, your ankles wrapped around his waist as he keeps a firm grip on your backside.

You're traveling a bit down the hall now and he takes a swift turn to the bathroom you'd used earlier.

"I know it's not ideal, and if I had it my way I'd take you to my place right the fuck now." He explains, setting you against the countertop before hiking up your shirt.

"But I know you don't care." He huffs, lifting your boobs with each of his hands, squishing and teasing them, his mouth already latched to one as he covered the space in large, deep-colored bruises.

"I know you don't care that much about being rude as to keep from having his pussy fucked either." He growls, using his free hand to cup it, this thumb touching just over where your clit should be, only held back by your pajama pants and the sheer fabric of your panties.

"F-Fuck. Okay, okay, you're right." You whine, twitching when he applies more pressure.

"Atta girl." He grunts, pulling your pants down along with his, a hiss leaving his mouth when you trace your hand down his chest.

He takes your wrist, guiding it further, your body practically vibrating when he let's you touch it over the fabric of his boxers.

"Uh huh, you feel that?" He moans, Your manicured nails raking over his shaft, the feeling of it twitching in your hand making you gasp.

He cant help but give a quiet, 'fuck' as if rests in your hand.

" I-Its big. I don't know how I'm... Jesus." You whisper, swallowing in anticipation.

"Imma make sure you can handle it mamas, promise." He encourages, letting you dip below the waistband and actually feel it. He whines, bucking into your hands warmth at the feeling.

Fuck it's thick... You can feel a couple of the veins that run along the sides and soon you're able to pull it out of his boxers, truly getting a chance to admire it. God damn it, it's pretty too?! It was easily 7 inches, a nice curve upward with a slightly pink hue at the tip. And apparently, his hair color was natural cause the curtains matched the drapes.

"You gonna stop staring at it and- Oh fuck." He growls, his head lolling back when you start moving up and down, squeezing just enough at the tip to make him thrust into your touch.

"And what? C'mon Ryo, what happened to all that shit you were taking a second ago?" Your voice, newfound confidence, and pure unbridled lust flowed through each syllable.

"F-Fuck, here I thought you'd be shy about this." He huffs, looking down at how your hand held him so nicely, your lips parted, tongue out to let saliva drip down as you sloppily stroke his cock.

"Oh, you're nasty." He encourages, gripping the counter for dear life at this point.

The sounds is so wet, salive mixing with precum as you continue to keep up the pace, multitasking as your mouth works hickeys to his neck.

"See cause now I gotta-" Sukuna begins, his hand quick at your throat as he captures your lips, moving your hands to the side so he can access you.

His free hand works to pull your panties to the side and he easily slips two fingers past your folds, a slippery squelch sounding as a result.

"S-Shit-" You whine, the thickness of his middle and ring finger alone stretching you deliciously.

"What happened Miss Y/n? Huh?" He teases, curling his fingers upward, using the hand that was once around your neck to lift your face and force eye contact.

"Huh?" He asks again, his thumb moving circles around your clit as he continues to move his fingers in and out, the pace making you rock your hips in seek of more.

"I d-dont, I can't, fuck Ryo." You whimper, clutching his bicep as he gives that menacing grin again, pressing kisses to your jawline, occasionally sucking just to liter you with more hickeys.

"Yes, you can. Answer me, c'mon mamas I know you can. Or does it feel too good?" He asks, only getting a gasp in response when he proceeded to do the same thing you did moments prior. Warm saliva travels from his pierced tongue, down to your already sopping wet cunt.

"Hm? I'm making you feel good baby?" Oh he was definitely fucking with you now, knowing good as well at this rate you'd be cumming all over his fingers if he kept this shit up. All you could do was nod, resting your head against his tatted shoulder as he chuckles darkly.

"Gonna cum already? I can feel you squeezing." He notes, not stopping however. And sure enough you do, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound of your orgasm, stomach spasming as he slows down, smiling against your neck.

"Y-You suck." You huff, still coming down from your high, opening your legs a bit to look down at the mess you'd made on his fingers when he removed them. The sudden emptiness makes you suck in a breath.

"Oh yea?" He laugh, soon becoming hyperfocuses on how close he was to your entrance.

There's a silence for a moment like neither of you wants to be the one to ask for more in fear of coming off as greedy or desperate.

"Are you, done?" he asks, almost unsure, his hands gripping your hips now, dick twitching at the fact that he's so so close.

"No, you?" You laugh, scooting forward just enough that his tip is touching your slick folds.

"Fuck no...Can I?" He asks, and with a nod of your head, he pushes in, a hiss befalling both of you.

You pull in him further, your legs wrapping around his waist to do so. He swears, watching how you'd taken all of him with no issue.

"Shhhhit you feel good." He compliments, pausing when he hears you hiccup.

"Mhm."You respond quickly, adjusting to being so full all at once, tears pricking the corner of your eyes,

"Shit, let's just- just wait a second. Damn, what did you think was gonna happen?" He chuckles, kissing the tears away, massaging the back of your neck with his free hand.

When he said a second he meant that shit, because right after he trusted ever so slightly, slow, soft, calculated, letting your pussy memorize the curve and every vein. The pace was set, soon increasing bit by bit the more you moaned, feeding into his ego. If the sounds before weren't absolutely filthy, these were, every time he pulled out resounding in a wet-sounding "shhlick". You both swear.

"Feel good? I can fuck you a lil harder now?" He asks, both answers being yes.

And as soon as it is, he helps you reposition, the mirrors now in front of you instead of behind. Your nightshirt is half off, the rest of it now bunched up near your upper back as he massages the fat of your ass, squeezing with hiss before landing a firm smack that makes you yelp. He only laughs, massaging it before pulling all the way out.

"R-Ryo wait I'm gonna be too lou-"

Too late, he bottoms out, your mouth opening as you're too late to cover the moan he'd just ripped from your throat.

"Holy shit, nah you gotta keep making noise for me, lemme know how good I'm making you feel." He growls each time his pelvis meets your ass you moan.

All you can do is lean against the bathroom sink and take each unrelenting stroke. He’s got your hair in a fist, your neck craned upwards to look at yourself in the mirror. God you don’t remember looking this pretty when you’re being fucked. Then again it had been a while-

“Look at you,” He chuckles, throwing his head back when your squeeze him.

You manage to let your face all against your forewarn to try and muffle your koans. It proved to be useless and he slams back into you again, a raged, “Fuck!” Sounding from the male behind you.

“Close, fuck don’t stop Ryo.” You hum, rolling your hips against his and he follows your pace, although it doesn’t last long when his hips begin to stutter.

“S-Shit, do that again baby, doing so good for me.” He praises, waiting until you fall apart to pull out, only then spilling onto the curve of your back.

Your legs wobble, a feeling of euphoria befalls you as you seem to somewhat blackout, vision blurring. It's messy, you're practically dripping down your thighs and all he can do is watch in awe at how fucking gorgeous you look like this.

He’s massaging you now, a soft apology falling from his kiss bruised lips as he wipes his mess away, planting kisses against your shoulder. The sweetness is nice, but he quickly reminds you that he’s a fucking goofball when he smacks your ass with a laugh,

“You okay mamas? You can stand up?” He asks, helping you stand up a bit with that stupid glaring on his face, knowing that he definitely did his big one after you fail to keep yourself up.

——8:36am————-

You’d forced yourself to wake up a little earlier, Ryomens' grip on you not softening after you'd fallen asleep together on the couch. He insisted you wear his shirt after your nightshirt had been stretched out from the night’s escapades.

So here you were in an oversized beater and your night shorts (which he had to help you put back on cause you were so fucked out)

On the stove were some pancakes you managed to make before Yuji woke, his plate already set along with Sukuna’s.

The light pitter patter of feet alerts you that the culprit you’d just thought of is awake and he reached up as far as his little hand could grasp to tug on your shirt.

“Uncle Sukuna said to ask Auntie Y/n if I can have some pant cake.” Yuji repeats, your eyes snapping to Sukuna’s frame on the couch.

Of course his eyes were closed, a smirk playing over his stupid gorgeous face.

All you go is laugh, scooping up the boy to put him in his high chair.

“Of course you can have some pancakes sweetie.” You hum, pushing him in and feeding his pancakes with a bit of syrup.

“Make sure you tell your TeaTea thank you.” Sukuna grumbles, peaking at you with a smile.

Yuji only does at he’s told, giving you the biggest brightest smile as you process the fact that this man has Yuji calling you Auntie already. You’d be sure to ask about that later.

“Thank you Auntie Y/N” Yuji shouts.

————————————————————-

Authors Note: HEY YALLLLL I tried to end this like kinda cutely? Lmao thank you so much again for all the love and support on the last two parts I wasn’t thinking this would BLOW UP like how it did lmao!

As always my inbox is always open so! If you have any ideas you wanna se written or anything feel free to leave me a message!

Anyway I hope you all enjoyed!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @kriegsumire-blog @peachhiz @khaotic-luca @samisfunky @minaloq @teupaidecalcinhasblog @gurutoru @snail-squasher @molita111 @rowrowrowyourboat13 @acidrefiux @ryomensgirll @artistesimp @s-l-u-t @isaacdaknight @sterzin @fushipurro @bakuhoes-bxtch @itsinherited @call-memissbrightside @thedondiva45 @wr4inn @theobsidianempress @sad-darksoul @moonjellyfishie @sukioyakio @mageeko @spindyl @skunabby @rixo-19 @the-haitani-baton @eliyuu @urfav-cupidon @h0nz06 @lem-hhn

[xotaemintol]

Can you do triple J line with size and breeding kinks x a chubby black girlfriend? Like I mean rolls, thick thighs, and a stomach? Thank you 🥴

🤭 now I been waiting for an ask like this!!! Absolutely!!

!MINORS GO AWAY DO NOT INTERACT!

JAEMIN is absolutely obsessed with holding you, he loves how soft and smooth your skin is—he’ll hug you from behind and sneak his hands up into your shirt and put his hands on your stomach; just softly squishing it in his big hands. He’s so sweet always encourages you, if you have an outfit that’s slightly revealing but you feel too nervous to wear it he’s right behind you telling you that you shouldn’t because he’ll probably rip it off of you to fuck you. But then he’ll seriously tell you to wear the outfit; he’s always telling you that you’ll look sexy in whatever you wear—and he’s right, but he especially likes it when you’re naked. Once you asked him if you could do it with the lights off and when he realized why you asked he immediately said no, he loves seeing the ripples in your hips when he fucks you. The recoil of your ass if just too perfect and the way your breasts bounce with every movement is too pretty to miss. He’s a firm believer in confidence so he’ll fuck you in front of the mirror—holding your arms behind your back as he fucks you from behind; telling you to keep your eyes on the mirror. “Don’t you look so beautiful baby? Hm? Who’s my pretty girl? Huh? Aren’t you pretty? Yes? Yes? You wanna have my baby then?” He gets so turned on hearing your voice as you struggle to respond, all he can think about is getting you pregnant. “I’ll show you how pretty you are…I’ll make sure you know how pretty you are.” He cums so much, he doesn’t want a drop of it to spill out so he’ll carefully walk back to the bed and have you sit on his lap until he knows you’ll get pregnant.

JENO is so unbelievably obsessed with you, he loves putting his hands on your stomach, having you lay on his chest, making you the little spoon—anything where he can hold you and feel your soft body as close as possible, not to mention how short you are and how small your hands are. He doesn’t want you to shy away from getting undressed in front of him, if he notices you getting self conscious he’ll immediately intervene and praise you; shamelessly admitting how much he loves your body. But unfortunately he’s also in love with your body in other ways and just from talking about how much he loves you he’ll get turned on. He praises you so much when he’s fucking you, he wants to look at your face while he’s inside of you too—he’ll make you look him in the eyes while he’s fucking you into the mattress. “Don’t you feel pretty baby? Do you feel pretty when I fuck you like this? Say it…say you’re pretty.” It’s like he’s trying to fuck it into your mind just how beautiful you are, and he’ll get you to love yourself one way or another. He’ll have you screaming out in broken moans; “I’m pretty! I’m so pretty.” And to really drive the point home he’ll cum inside of you; telling you that he thinks you’re so beautiful that he wants you to have his baby. The mention of getting you pregnant only turns him on even more, he has to cum inside of you as deep as possible—so he’ll push your body into a mating press to make sure you’re knocked up.

JISUNG your first thought when Jisung started flirting with you was “he don’t even know what to do with all of this.” But then he proved that he does in fact know what to do with all of that, he is so in love with you and your body—his giant hands are always all over you. Your thighs, your butt, your breasts, your belly; he’s so touchy that you have to pry his hands off of you. Don’t even think about wearing anything tight or anything revealing, he’ll tear it off you before you can get out the door. He loves how soft your body is and how plush it feels when he fucks you, the way your hips look with his fingers dug deeply into your soft hips makes him feel like such a pervert. “So pretty…so fucking pretty…You look so good taking my dick baby…” “So soft…fuck, m’gonna get you pregnant baby…m’gonna fill you up and-and cum inside…mhmm that’s right baby, that’s right…you ready?” Every time he fucks you he talks about getting you pregnant and how he loves stretching you out with his thick cock. He fucks himself dumb thinking about how good you’ll look carrying his child, he just has to make you a mother. When he knows he’s getting close he’ll push your legs back as far as they can go and fuck you as deep as possible; when he finally cums inside of you he’ll keep going—he only pulls out when you’re both sensitive; and when his cum slowly drips out he’ll push it back inside with his finger. “You’ll make such a great mother baby.”

[lilbunnis]

❛ ♡. gif credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐬. ❜

★ ⎯⎯ big brother!aemond is used to your sweet moans and whimpers, though he is reaching his breaking point--- he must have you, no matter the consequences.

author’s note᛬ hii! first time posting on here--- this is obvi a new acc (personal reasons) but i also just wanna strictly post my writing on this blog. first time writing incest, too! oh, & im in my witchy era. anyways, if u’re a minor then do not fuckin interact, thx.

warnings᛬ mdni! smut, angst, dubious consent, dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, afab reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, manipulation, pussy whipped!aemond, incestuous relationships, breeding kink, cunnilingus, fingering, obsessive & possessive behavior, pet names. any grammatical errors are my own--- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

word count᛬ 1.5k

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘.

oh, how sweet her lips were, so soft and plump, like the ripest of peaches during the middle of summer, ready to be kissed. gods, her eyes… so dark and tempting, yet warm and doe-like, a gift from their mother, the queen. her skin was pure and soft and untainted, almost whispering to him to touch, touch, touch--- touch her!

she was his--- since she was torn from their mother’s womb, bloody and screaming, a dragon come forth, his darling little sister.

he loved, he loved, he loved her.

the very epitome of a true born targaryen, made for him.

he knew since the day that she came into this cruel world that she would belong to him, that she would be his.

his, his, his.

“b-brother! no, n-no, i- nghh.. ‘m gonna—“ she babbled cutely, her voice like sweet music to his ears, a siren’s call, begging him to take her maidenhead.

the voices in his head were insistent and loud, screaming venomously at him, luring him to kiss, to touch, to take--- she was rightfully his by birthright, why shouldn’t he indulge?

yes, they hissed, encouraging him with their sweet, persuasive voices inside of his head--- had he finally gone mad? were the rumors of the targaryen madness true?

even so, he did not give a fuck.

his sweet baby sister was his, she always would be, and the way she clawed at his wrist, begging him to fuck her with his deft fingers faster, faster, faster!

or, perhaps… trying to push his hand away--- no, no. she loves him, and he loves her!

it was destiny, their destiny, to be together as husband and wife and bring forth a whole new bloodline of true born targaryens!

yes, his sweet little sister would give him so many babes, he’d fill her up and watch her as she’d grow round and fat with his many sons and daughters.

fire and blood, fire and blood, fire and blood---

then, a scream--- oh, so feminine and sweet; how he just adored his sweet little sister, his little darling.

aemond heard her cry out, the sweetest wail, fat tears falling down her flushed cheeks as he continued burying his long, nimble fingers inside of her sweet, drooling cunny, preparing her for his cock.

meanwhile, he kept pressing against that little patch of nerves inside of her that she could never reach by herself, stroking relentlessly--- meanly.

poor, sweet little lamb.

aemond was panting heavily, watching as her sweet little cunt sucked in his fingers greedily, making his lips twitch in amusement--- he could barely withdraw his fingers due to how fucking tight she was.

uncaringly, yet so lovingly, he would cruelly plunge them back inside of her, wet noises and her sweet, breathy little moans and whimpers filling his chambers.

“that’s it,” he cooed softly, his voice a raspy baritone, so convincing, “—doing so fucking well for your big brother, issa jorrāelagon.”

quietly, he continued into the night, moonlight spilling in through the glass windows of his chambers, his amethyst colored eye was fully blown wide and focused solely on her squelching cunt, watching as her little clit twitched and practically begged him for attention.

and who was he to deny his little sister such sweet, sinful pleasure?

not a second later, aemond moved to settle between his sister’s thighs, lowering his head until his breath ghosted over her wet, puffy folds, allowing him to inhale her feminine scent--- causing him to release a low, satisfied groan.

then, the prince nuzzled his sharp, prominent nose against her little, fleshy bundle of nerves, breathing her in further as two of his long fingers continued to wildly fuck her little virgin fuck-hole.

“b-bro-brotherrr! please, please! need.. n-need to--- please!” came her sweet, girlish voice which was higher in pitch than usual, making him let out a soft, amused hum.

“as you wish, sweetling,” he murmured against her clit, the vibrations from his deep voice causing her to squirm impatiently, before finally, she felt his plush, naturally curved lips wrap around her aching, throbbing clit, causing her to wail brokenly and clutch the silk sheets with tiny fists.

aemond, the kinslayer, could never deny her, could never say no to her--- perhaps, he should be furious at how weak she made him feel, but he could never find it in his cold, blackened heart to ever feel any sort of anger towards her.

his sweet beloved.

it was maddening how helpless he was against her, how deep his devotion to her was--- possibly, others would call it obsession, sinful, an abomination, but aemond knew the truth; dragons did not concern themselves with the likes of sheep.

oh, how he loved her, how he wished to possess her, to be the only person she would ever love, to be her one and only like she was his.

passionately and glowing, burningly real, her nude skin glistened in the moonlight, the few candles that were slowly dying out around his chambers and the burning fire in his fireplace teased shadows from the corner of his eye, the ghosts that still haunted the red keep were always watching and judging them viciously for their sins.

and oh, how their intertwined souls would burn in the brightest of flames, always together, even in the deepest pits of the seven hells, for all of time; for eternity.

still, he ignores the demons--- too drunk by the sweet taste of his little sister’s cunt.

“mine,” he purrs against her cute, twitching clit, suckling the nub into his watering mouth, which made his cock leak even more pre into his small-clothes, causing him to groan and harshly grind his loins down against his bed.

“say it, sweetling--- tell me that you’re mine,” he murmured, wrapping one of his massive hands around his sister’s smooth, left thigh, digging the tips of his calloused fingertips into the meaty skin possessively, holding her in place.

“ah, ah, ah— aemond, nghh..! oh-hmm, ‘m yours,” she babbled sweetly, her words slurring slightly as she began reaching her sixth peak of the night, causing more tears to spill down the sides of her face as she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her blurry vision as she felt her big brother scissoring her weeping cunt open.

wailing in despair, she felt her brother’s skilled tongue flicking and rolling her clit into his eager mouth again, suckling at it and nipping at the little nub mercilessly.

gently, with such cruel, bloodstained hands, aemond squeezed his sister’s thigh harshly, causing her to squeal and thrash her head around on his feathered pillow, her back arching like a bowstring as she finally reached her sixth peak, crying out and babbling her big brother’s name over and over and over--- pleadingly.

“oh, oh, ohhh..! f-feels so--- so good,” she sobbed brokenly, her thighs shaking and clenching around his head, making him continue to dig his neatly trimmed fingernails into the pillowy skin of her left thigh that he was still clutching, while moving his head quickly back and forth, stimulating her little nub until his little sister saw stars.

aemond knew it was sinful, having his sister gush and leak and drool all over his fingers and tongue as he continued suckling at her now overstimulated clit, her skin glistening with sweat, making her skin shine so beautifully against his silk bedsheets--- she was ethereal, an angel, his.

“sweet girl, you’ve done so good for me this evening--- so fucking perfect, little darling,” he praised tenderly, removing his mouth from her clit, while still gently nuzzling the twitching bud with the tip of the cleft of his nose, his fingers still moving almost lazily inside of her cunt, curling his fingers inside of her.

…as if he wished to stay inside of her; forever.

a soft hum escaped him in content, while he continued to gently fuck her with his fingers, more slowly as he heard her soft, girlish pleas--- more like sweet little mewls of his name.

“i think you’re ready for my cock now, don’t you?” he questioned darkly lovingly, pressing soft kisses against her engorged clit, allowing his slightly swollen lips to trail open-mouthed kisses all across the soft curls covering her mound, then across her inner thighs which were covered in her slick, watching as they continued trembling in his strong, possessive grasp.

silently, he gazed up at her longingly, a low purr rumbling deeply inside of his bare chest, the thought of plunging his furiously hard, weeping cock into his sister’s tight little cunny was almost too much to bear for the kinslayer.

oh, and how all of my devotion turns violent, aemond thought wickedly to himself, but no--- not with his sweet, beloved little sister…he would take her as his lady wife, to love and cherish and breed her nightly with loads of his seed until she was pregnant with many of his babes.

even then, aemond would never stop, how could he? she was his everything, and whether or not she was too fucked out by him feasting on her cunny for hours was no matter, because he already knew.

she loved him just the same, even if she truly did not know it just yet, his innocent little sister.

hm, what a sick little head he had, how his love turned into obsession, into possession--- but nonetheless, it was still love.

pure, undying love.

fin.

[dee-writes-anime]

haii!! blue here! 🫐

a birdie told me that your requests are open yehehe (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

thinking about keigo x reader where they promised to marry each other while they were kids just to met again years later

or

keigo x reader where reader is a single parent from a little kid

thankyouu have a great day or night <3

- blue

Soaring Sons with Hawks

FEATURING Keigo 'Hawks' Takami x Reader

SUMMARY Meeting your son for the first time :) (request by blue)

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, single mom, toddler/elementary age kid, hawks being super soft and parental (??)

AUTHORS NOTE Thank you so much for the ask, blue!! I hope I did your thoughts justice with this single-mom reader fic. I apologize for the shorter writing, my boss decided to up my hours this week so I've been dying between classwork and that T-T

Keigo had faced impossible situations before—battling villains, saving lives, even surviving high-profile scandals that shook him to his core. But standing in front of your door, waiting to meet the most important person in your life, he felt a nervousness he hadn’t experienced in years.

His wings shifted restlessly behind him, feathers trembling with the weight of his nerves. You had told him to take things slow—Ren was shy, and this was a big step. But that wasn’t what gnawed at Keigo’s gut.

It was the fear of not being enough. Not for you, and certainly not for your son.

The door opened, and there you stood, framed by the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, your smile gentle yet a little tentative. At your side, holding your hand, was Ren—small and quiet, his wide eyes staring up at Keigo with an innocent kind of wonder that made the hero’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, your fingers giving Ren’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come in, Keigo.”

“Hey,” Keigo echoed, his usual playful lilt softer now, more cautious. He stepped through the door, folding his wings close to avoid knocking into anything, but his gaze was completely focused on Ren.

He crouched down, making sure not to loom over the boy, trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible. Ren stayed tucked behind your leg, peeking out at him, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“So, you must be the little superhero I’ve been hearing all about,” Keigo said, his voice warm and gentle, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He kept his tone low, not wanting to overwhelm the boy.

Ren blinked, his grip on your hand still tight but loosening just a bit as his gaze flitted between Keigo and his wings.

“You have wings,” Ren whispered, his small voice breaking the silence. “Like a birdie.”

Keigo couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Slowly, he unfurled one of his wings, letting the feathers shimmer in the light as they shifted softly.

“Yeah, pretty cool, huh?” Keigo said, giving his wings a little flap to show them off. “Wanna touch ‘em?”

Ren hesitated, glancing up at you as if asking for permission. When you gave him an encouraging nod, he stepped forward, reaching out tentatively with his small hand to graze the edge of Keigo’s wing.

Keigo watched the boy’s expression carefully, seeing the awe and wonder spark behind Ren’s eyes as he marveled at the softness of the feathers. There was a quiet patience to Ren, a shyness that mirrored your own, and Keigo felt his heart swell with a tenderness he hadn’t expected.

“Do they help you fly?” Ren asked, his voice a little louder now, his initial nervousness starting to fade.

“They do,” Keigo replied, his eyes soft as he glanced between you and Ren. “And they’re also great for giving rides to special little guys like you.”

Ren’s eyes went wide, his mouth forming a small ‘O’ of surprise. “Really?”

Keigo chuckled, glancing at you for approval. You smiled at him, your eyes glowing with a quiet warmth that sent a surge of affection through him. He hadn’t seen you this relaxed in a while, and it made him want to protect this moment, to keep it safe.

“If it’s okay with your mom,” Keigo teased, looking back at Ren with a playful grin. “I could take you for a little flight. Just around the yard.”

Ren looked up at you with eager eyes, practically bouncing on his heels. You laughed softly, nodding your approval. “I think we can manage that.”

Keigo’s heart swelled with something warm and light, and he stood up, unfolding his wings fully as Ren watched in awe. He crouched down again, offering his back to the boy, who scrambled onto his shoulders with your help.

Once Ren was settled, his little arms wrapped securely around Keigo’s neck, the hero stood up slowly, making sure the boy felt safe and steady.

“You ready?” Keigo murmured, his voice gentle as he glanced over his shoulder at Ren, who nodded with wide-eyed excitement.

With a single powerful beat of his wings, they lifted off the ground, gliding into the sky in a smooth, gentle arc. Ren let out a squeal of pure delight, his laughter bubbling up as they soared above the yard, the wind rushing around them.

Keigo’s heart soared along with them. He felt Ren’s tiny arms tighten around his neck, the boy’s joy infectious as they floated higher, and in that moment, everything else melted away. The worries, the doubts, the fear of not being enough—it all faded as he listened to Ren’s laughter echoing in the sky.

When they landed softly back on the ground, Ren was still giggling, his cheeks flushed with excitement. He slid off Keigo’s back and ran to you, his eyes bright and full of wonder.

“Mom! Did you see that? I was flying!” Ren exclaimed, his face lighting up as he looked between you and Keigo.

You laughed, crouching down to wrap your arms around your son, your smile radiant. “I saw, baby. You were so brave.”

Keigo watched the two of you with a soft smile, his heart full in a way it hadn’t been in years. Ren was still bouncing with excitement, telling you all about his little flight as you listened with a mother’s quiet pride.

And as Keigo stood there, watching you and Ren, he felt something settle deep in his chest. He wasn’t just some outsider, hovering at the edges of your life anymore. In this moment, he felt like he belonged—with both of you.

He hadn’t just met your son today. He had found a place where he was more than a hero. He was someone who could be part of your world, part of Ren’s world, and for the first time in a long while, Keigo felt at peace.

[herstarburststories]

steve harrington fucks your boobies.

a/n: kinktober babes!! beware boob fucking and dirty talk! also random lube

Tender moments are a rare gift when you’re Hawkins. It’s even more sporadic when you are on the battlefield evert day. Therefore, moments like this are made to be burned in the back of your mind, and enjoyed like a lifetime.

Steve is laying on top of you, his hand resting against your chest, arm around your waist. You have one leg intertwined with his as your fingers run through his short hair. The breathing is calm. Surprisingly, not because someone knocked you or Harrington out, or you two got too drunk to have a light sleep. Both of you just happen to have a good day, and now are enjoying the end of it in bed, tangled with each other.

Yet, Steve Harrington is Steve Harrington. End of the world or not, he still got the essence. Don’t get him wrong, relaxing is definitely something he enjoys doing with you, especially when you play with his hair so good. But there’s another part of you that doesn’t let him slide into sleep despite how comfortable he is.

Your boobies.

The brown- eyed man always loved boobs. Big, small, whatever. Any color, any size. If a chick got a pair of boobs, he’d be trying his luck with her - the King Steve reputation proved it just right. Now, Steve doesn’t have to run after them, and this position only makes it better.

He’s laying on your chest, while you are wearing one of your summer pajamas, the red one with a large cleavage. God bless summer nights, he thinks to himself, moving a bit while he glances at your boobs. Your breathing causing them to go up and down slowly. Steve can’t help but imagine getting between them and making his cock follow the movement— nice and squeezed between your breasts in a good tittie fuck.

Harrington leans in, loving the heat of your chest against his cheek before he kisses your right boob. Steve’s so close to your heart, he can almost discern your erratic beating once he kissed there again. A chuckle leaving his lips, gaining a soft groan from you.

He doesn’t stop there, sneak fingers pulling your pajamas shirt down as he starts spreading pecks all over your breast. Sweet kisses soon melting into longing licks, which only appeared to turn into sucking. Steve wants to leave marks, he always does. That man can be possessive when he wants to remember you both you are his and only his, and the thought of hickeys that he made with his own mouth showing on your skin when you are wearing one of your usual tank tops only makes the crotch in his pants harder.

“Steve.” You moan, both hands pulling his head to your breasts to the point Harrington found himself buried between your boobs. This is it, he accepts, I’m in heaven. Heaven of boobs.

He blows on your sensitive nipple, getting a whine of yours back. A lopsided grin on his expression when he notices how much you want him, just like he wants you. His plump lips surround your already hard nipple as Steve sucks your boob, his hand massaging the other one.

The man spends time on it, your sighs and moans encouraging him to keep going. His cock’s only growing more bothered in his pants, the sweat in the air is as natural as your breathless state. You both need more. You often do. It always starts with a sweet giving until you both feel like owning.

Harrington, using all his inner strength, pulls away from your chest. His elbows to the mattress as he lifts his head to look into your eyes.

“We could try a new position.” He suggests.

“What’s it?” You furrow your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side. “I’m telling you beforehand, porn isn’t real life. No woman or man can do those things.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Relax, honey. That one’s very possible.” He bites his bottom lip, looking at your uncovered, dirty with saliva chest before glancing at you. “I wanna fuck your boobs.”

You have to fight yourself not to moan shamelessly at his statement. Steve, with those hungry green eyes and plump lips red from sucking your boob, openly talking in his gruff voice about fucking your breasts. God, you just want to beg him to destroy you.

Instead, you look to the side, a sloppy idea welcoming your mind. You smile devilish as you notice that the half full bottle is still on the table next to bed— ultimately, Harrington's mess would do you good.

Your hand grabs his old man's whiskey, the mouth of the bottle meeting yours in a double intentioned kiss. You toss the cap away, dropping the liquid over your chest. You and Steve didn’t have any lube in hand, might as well improvise.

“I guess this will do.” You smirk, savoring the way his mouth is slightly open in surprise. You place the whiskey on its place, wiggling your eyebrows at the hunter. “What are you waiting for, Harrington?”

Steve groans at your teasing. “God. I love you.''

He doesn’t want to waste time, decided to fill up the silent of the night with the sound of his cock fucking your titties. Harrington throws his pants away, his length hitting his belly as soon as it’s free. You lick your lips, watching the magnetic body of his coming closer to yours.

You feel like a prey, cornered by a hunter; the exact minute you know there’s no other way but to give yourself out.

Steve isn’t too far from that either. He hurries to get on his knees, approaching you with a whimper. You look better than any porn, soaked in whiskey and ready to get your boobs fucked by him.

You can’t wait for Harrington to make a feast out of your body. Being with him was like becoming a virgin all over again: each touch of his discovered a new shade of pleasure within you, all you begged to be corrupted.

One of his hands holds the bedpost as Steve finally slides his cock between your breasts. His legs are trembling, mouth slightly open and eyes barely shut; this kind of pleasure, this unique sentiment of being hurried between your boobs is marvelous— and he hasn’t even started fucking them! You aren’t away from that either, pressing your lips together in a dumbfounded attempt to contain a moan… As if you could ever control how your body reacts to Steve Harrington.

Steve licks his lips, looking down to catch a glimpse of your face. God, this is perfect: you, sitting in bed naked, scotch all over your chest, hard nipples, titties waiting to be fucked by his length. He can’t physically wait anymore, even his bones are hurting to get with you. The man's hold on the bedpost intensifies, as if he could crave his fingertips like a lover does with a name. His knuckles are turning white, green eyes watching when his cock starts to go up and down between your boobs like he was fucking your pussy. Heaven.

“God, honey. You take my cock so good with your titties.” He groans, “I love your boobis so much. Always thought about fucking them.”

But then you squeeze your breasts together, trapping his hardness between your titties, Steve realizes how wrong he was. Before was just the golden gates, but this is heaven. He starts moving his hips, increasing the rhythm through each thrust.

“Yeah. Just like that. Fuck my boobs like you are fucking my pussy, Steve. Make me come.” Your words are tangling his arousal, getting a howl out of him as he fucks you rougher.

The smell of whiskey and sweat embrace the atmosphere into pure lust, among your and Harrington's pleading groans. You feel full in places you didn’t even know that were empty, and he can’t wait to come all over you and mark this spot as well.

Your shared bed crying is a beautiful melody, too. Adrenaline rushing inside your veins like blood, making Steve go quicker, making you press your boobs against his cock harder. You can feel his precum mixing with whiskey and sweat, and you can’t wait to taste it somehow. He’s getting tough, your hands are marking your own body. You both want more of this newness.

“I’m gonna come all of your pretty boobs, baby. Is that what you want? Get all dirty with my cum?” Steve says breathlessly, his voice cracking at each other. He can barely hold himself from screaming and coming. Yet, he wants you to come first.

“Yes.” You whimper, looking up to him. He’s on his knees, but you are the only begging. “Please, Steve. Come on my boobs, make me come just fucking my boobs. Please. I need it, please.”

Any vestige of self control is left behind when Steve grunts loudly, moaning to your name as he cums on your breasts.

request for kinktober, babes.

[angelikook]

Red String of Fate

Pairing(s): Janitor and delivery person!Yoongi x college student!reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, e2l-ish, college au-ish, soulmate au-ish

Word Count: 10.7k

Warning(s): Profanity, alcohol use

Summary: The red string of fate connects two enemies. However, Yoongi’s red string, which is attached to Y/n, suddenly disappears after he meets her the second time.

A/n This fic officially marks my comeback to Tumblr *insert applause here 👏* After years of hiatus, my life finally settles a bit so I can continue what I've always loved. I had so much fun writing this one. Enjoy! This fic is still unedited though, I'll edit it ASAP.

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There were three things that Yoongi wished didn’t exist. One, flat-earthers. Two, anti vaxxers. And three, the red string of fate.

During 21 years of his life, he learned that not only the red string of fate foresaw the relationship of two people, but also the fact that it predicted hostility between them and not romance like what those legends had said. Not to mention the disturbing fact that he could see them for as far as he could remember.

He’d seen his parents divorced, his two best friends fought one another, and even random people argued on the street. And what was the similarity of all of them? That damned red string that was attached between the people involved. The sure sign that those people would go their separate ways sooner or later.

As he went about his typical Saturday which consisted of getting ready for work, doing some deliveries, and depositing some money to his parents’ bank account, he noticed the absence of his red string. With an almost inhuman speed, he finished the rest of his routine and called his only friend.

The door jingled as he pushed the door open. In an instant, a smell of coffee entered his nostrils. He couldn’t help but to take a long whiff, enjoying the rich aroma.

Upon seeing him walking in, the boy who stood behind the counter grinned at him. “Take a seat. I’ll come to you in a bit.”

He strode to his favorite spot in the cafe, at the far corner near the window where he could watch the pedestrians outside.

The boy who was once behind the counter turned the store sign to ‘closed’, turned off some of the lights, and made some drinks before sauntering to Yoongi with two cups in hand.

“Sorry for meeting you at this time, Tae. I honestly don’t know what to do if you are busy.”

“No worries. It’s not like I’ve other things to do after this.” The boy placed a cup in front of Yoongi.

“Thanks,” Yoongi mumbled. “Won’t your boss be angry if you have a guest here?”

“Nope. In fact, she encourages us to have guests. To introduce the cafe to more people, she said.”

“Good marketing strategy.”

“I know right. So, what do you wanna talk about?”

Yoongi told the boy in front of him about his day. From the moment he woke up, until the time he texted his friend to meet up with extra detail when he realized his string had disappeared.

He was just finished with the second to the last delivery. The lady who received the food thanked him and went back inside her house. He took it as a cue for him to continue with his last delivery.

It was when he was checking the next address when he felt something was missing.

He patted his pockets to look for his phone, wallet, and keys which were still intact. He made sure he didn’t forget the food he needed to deliver. He even checked his phone in case there was a task he’d forgotten to do.

But he found none.

With head full of confusion, trying to remember what was missing, he drove to the last address.

Five minutes away from the last place he needed to go, at a traffic light, his eyes fell to his left pinky, the place where his red string attached to him. The place where there was no longer a red string.

His eyes were big as saucers as he inspected his pinky.

During 21 years of his life, there was not a single time, as far as he knew, in which the red string ever disappeared. It could twist, bend, stretch, and become thinner, but never disappear. It could even fade sometimes, but could never vanish.

He looked around to see other road users. Their red strings were glaringly obvious. Some even had a deep red color.

He sighed though not all his worries went away.

He didn’t lose his ability, just his string.

“Oh my God! I just realized that your string is very much gone.”

“Do you have an idea of what this means? Or what caused this to happen?”

Taehyung leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “It’s your fault for not joining our weekly meeting.”

Yoongi met Taehyung at a club specifically made for people who can see the red string. He didn’t know what made him join the club, but he could probably blame his curiosity for that.

“I have work. Plus, it’s not like you understand what’s going on either after attending them.”

“Touché. But, do you know who’s at the other end?”

“I knew about it a few weeks ago.”

How stupid of him to ignore the weather forecast this morning. It said that there was going to be a thunderstorm. Yoongi just realized how accurate the forecaster was as the rain hit against the library's windows loudly.

His shift as the campus’ janitor had ended an hour ago, but since the rain didn’t let him go home and he was stupid enough not to bring an umbrella, he decided to wait in the library until the rain subside.

Every now and then, a thunder illuminated the dimly lit library before breaking in an ear-splitting noise. And every time it happened, he couldn't help but to wince even after hearing it for the nth time in the past hour.

He was sitting on the floor in the corner while gripping the encyclopedia on his lap. His mind couldn't cooperate for the last few minutes. He'd been reading the same line for countless times now and he grew agitated.

On the next aisle, a couple had been arguing for the past five minutes. And as much as Yoongi didn't like to eavesdrop, he had no headphones he could use to cover his ears.

"So, going out with my best friend behind my back was your brilliant solution?" the girl half-yelled.

They had been half-yelling the entire time. They knew that they weren't allowed to be loud here, yet they still chose a library out of all places to have an argument. That ticked Yoongi off.

"She came to me first, okay? I didn't know you weren't there. She said you were coming along," the boy defended himself.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. Of course a cheater would make up stupid reasons.

“Here’s what’s going wrong. One, you could leave her once you knew. Two, you could tell me you were with her. Three, you could cross-check with me first. And you did nothing out of all three.”

Yoongi smirked and nodded in agreement though he knew well they couldn’t see him. It was exactly what he’d say in a situation like that. He liked this girl, they had a similar way of thinking.

Yoongi suddenly grew curious at what the girl looked like. He scooted closer towards their voices and peeked between the books on the shelf.

Just like what he’d imagined, the girl was gorgeous. Or, at least as gorgeous as a sleep deprived college student can be.

She had a cute nose and lips, and bright eyes despite looking tired and sleepy. Dark eyebags and fading eyeliner decorated her eyes. Her hair glistened under the dim light, probably still wet due to the rain. Her pink lipstick also started to wear off, showing off her natural chapped lips.

The boy grew quiet for a bit. “Sorry, babe. It won’t happen again.”

She snorted. “I know. Because there’s no such thing as next time. Bye.”

As she walked off, his eyes trained down to her pinky, a habit he’d had because of the stupid ‘talent’ he had. He followed the red string on her pinky to the other end of the string, another habit he’d had because he was full of curiosity.

Most of the time he couldn’t see the other end, since enemies usually weren’t within sight with each other. This time, though, he kinda hoped that hers would connect to the boy she was dating. That way, it’d explain why they broke up.

Not as expected, her string ended on his pinky.

“Do you hate her?” Taehyung asked after sipping on his hot chocolate.

“Nope.”

“Maybe that’s why the string disappeared?” Taehyung suggested. “The string only connects enemies. Maybe if it makes a mistake like this, it’ll disappear.”

“Can the string make a mistake?”

Taehyung shrugged. “You don’t hate her, though.”

“But why didn’t it disappear right then, why today?”

Taehyung bit his lip, deep in thought. “Did something happen today?”

“Not today, but I met her yesterday.”

He was late to work and his dead watch was to blame. Somehow it slipped his mind to change the batteries and now he had to deal with his own stupidity.

As he scurried to campus, someone accidentally crashed into him from behind. His tattered bag fell and spilled its contents.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry!" A girl crouched beside him and helped him pick up his stuff.

"It's okay," he replied timidly.

Right as he put the last thing into his bag, the girl's friend, who since then only loomed over them in silence, clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"Can you be faster? I have a presentation in 10 minutes."

When Yoongi and the girl stood up, he finally got the chance to see who the girl's friend was. Their connected red string only confirmed it further.

Since the last time Yoongi saw her, she was in a worse condition. A cup of coffee was in one hand, a laptop in the other. Her eyes were puffy and dried tears were visible in her cheeks. Unlike back then at the library, she didn't wear any makeup. She wore an old oversized sweater which looked older than Yoongi's seven years old bag with a pair of washed up jeans that were baggy in weird places.

The girl who helped him snapped back at her, "That's your own fault for having a midlife crisis this morning."

The library girl only linked her arm around the girl's arm and dragged her.

He knew she was supposed to be his enemy, but for the rest of the day Yoongi couldn't help but to wonder what happened to her. His curiosity got the best of him now that he knew she was on the other end of his string.

Did she have another relationship problem? Or maybe her ex pleaded to get back together again? Or maybe just college stuff?

"You didn't ask her name?"

"She was in a hurry,” Yoongi defended himself.

"Still. I think we need as much information as possible, and a trusted person."

"Like who?"

"Namjoon."

"The club's leader? Are you kidding me?"

"Hey! He might be the only one who knows about this ordeal."

"But you're talking to him." It wasn’t a question.

Taehyung shook his head. "No. You talk to him."

"We're talking to him."

"Fine."

Despite Namjoon’s busy schedule and Yoongi’s multiple jobs, meeting him was easier than Yoongi had initially thought. One day he just texted him and not five minutes later Namjoon replied to meet up the next day after his shift ended. Just as promised, Taehyung came as a moral support and to provide with drinks.

After hearing Yoongi’s story, which was occasionally added by Taehyung with small details, Namjoon frowned. He bit his bottom lip and his eyes became unfocused.

“Do you think you can help us?” Yoongi asked after a minute of silence, already expecting a negative answer from the way the leader was behaving.

Namjoon’s eyes focused back to Yoongi’s. “I’m not sure. I’ve read something about this, but there wasn’t any more research about that. Maybe I can ask the previous leaders and see if they know about it.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“You said you knew who was on the other end. Can you bring her here? Maybe she knows something.”

“He doesn’t know her name, though,” Taehyung chimed in before Yoongi could say anything.

“That’s fine. Take as much time needed. I need to talk to the previous leaders anyway. Just tell me once you’re ready.”

“Joon,” Taehyung called him, catching his attention. “Is it possible that the string is wrong? Yoongi doesn’t hate her and that’s why the string disappeared?”

Taehyung’s question echoed in his mind for days on end. If his theory was right, then why was the string still there on the day at the library? Why didn’t it disappear right away? And what was going to happen now that his string was gone?

But one more question stood out the most to him. How could he ask for her to come with him without sounding creepy?

With the clock struck seven, his shift had ended and he could go home. He changed out of his uniform and walked towards the campus’ exit where there were some students still lingering.

He rolled his eyes at them. ‘Those kids are so lucky to be able to get an education at a place like this and they’re probably unaware of it,’ he thought.

Right as he was about to step out the door, a poster caught his eyes. More specifically, a face he’d grown to recognize just caught his eyes.

The poster was talking about a speech that was going to be held in a week’s time. The speech was going to be about the importance of vaccines and would be attended by some famous speakers. He knew one of the speakers.

It was the library girl. But unlike at the library nor in front of the campus, she wore a bright smile. She flashed her teeth, her eyes twinkled. Her makeup was perfectly done, thanks to meticulous makeup artists who took time with her face.

Underneath her photo, her name was printed in bold. Y/n L/n.

Yoongi gasped as he read her name again and again. He even tried how her name tasted in his mouth when he said it.

Her name was exactly like herself. Sweet, but not too sweet, with a hint of salty for her sharp words. It was closest to salted caramel in his mind.

But what was more important was the fact that he’d found her name. He grinned to himself at the thought. His only feat left was to talk to her and ask her to meet Namjoon.

The speech was held after the lunch break, which meant he got half a day to plan what to say to her. However, since he woke up, his mind had been a cloudy mess, he couldn’t think straight.

He tried to jot down possible things he could say to Y/n, but his clammy hand kept wetting his paper. He tried to type his thoughts on his phone, but his supervisor caught him playing on his phone and scolded him. All his efforts were futile in the end. His mind, paper, and phone notes were still as empty as they were this morning.

The night before, he’d talked to Namjoon and Taehyung, but both were as helpful as his empty mind.

“Just say whatever. It’s better if you tell her we’ll be talking about the red string,” Namjoon had said.

“Tell us how it goes, okay?” was the only thing Taehyung said.

When the time arrived, he waited in front of the campus’ hall where the speech was held.

Through the glass doors, he could see Y/n and a couple other speakers he didn’t care for. He couldn’t hear what they said, though. They took turns to speak, each more passionate than the speaker before them until the time Y/n stepped to the center of the stage.

All these time Yoongi only saw the angry, sad, and tired Y/n to the point he’d internalized the idea that she was like that most of the time. This was the first time he saw her speaking in front of hundreds of audience with a burning passion.

From outside where he couldn’t hear a single thing, he still felt moved and inspired by just seeing her hand gestures alone. He couldn’t imagine what it felt to be able to listen to her speech.

When she was done with her speech and bowed to the audience, they erupted in cheers and clapped their hands.

The event quickly ended with the MC saying some closing speech. With that, the crowd left the hall one by one not even minding Yoongi who was standing outside. Only a couple of faculty members and students still lingered inside, chatting animatedly with the speakers.

A pang of jealousy coursed through him at the sight of them. If money wasn’t a problem for him, he would have had a higher education just like these people. And to be reminded that those students were around his age made him sullen.

Among all the people inside, Y/n was the first to leave the hall. Looked like lady luck was on Yoongi’s side today since Y/n left all alone.

Yoongi quickly snatched his only chance and approached her.

“Hi. You’re Y/n, right?”

“Hi. Yeah, I am. And you are?” Her honey voice was sweeter than what he’d heard at the library. He could tell from her voice alone that her mood was definitely better than the last time he saw her.

“Yoongi. I’m the campus’ journalist.” At this point he just spewed out lies and he thought he was quite good at it. “Can we talk for a bit?”

“Sure. About what?”

“I was listening to your speech earlier,” another lie, “and I think you’re strongly opinionated,” not a lie. “I’m wondering if I can interview you? It’s gonna be about the red string.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “The red string?”

Yoongi involuntarily gulped in fear Y/n would reject him.

“I don’t think I have anything to say about that, I’m sorry.”

His heart dropped.

Y/n was about to leave when Yoongi spoke up again, “Umm… It’s okay. We’re going to compile different opinions into one anyways, so if you don’t have a lot to say about it, that’s fine.”

“Oh.” Y/n stopped in her tracks. “When’s the interview then? Is it now? Because if it’s now, I have-”

“No, don’t worry. We can have the interview anytime you’re free. Plus, I won’t be the one interviewing you, an expert or something will ask the questions and I’m just gonna sum them up.”

Y/n nodded. “Can we do it tonight? Maybe around eight after the classes end?”

Technically, Yoongi could, but he didn’t know whether Namjoon was free or not.

“I need to ask the interviewer first. Make sure they’re free and all.”

“Good!”

Yoongi pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Can I have your number?”

Asking for a girl’s number was an achievement he didn’t know he would reach.

Y/n punched in her number and gave the phone back to him. “What’s your name again?”

Yoongi put his phone back into his pocket. “Yoongi.”

The walk to the cafe Taehyung worked at was as awkward as it could get. Two people who just knew each other for a couple of hours walking together, not knowing what to say to break the tension. Not to mention this was Yoongi’s first time walking with a girl.

Yoongi didn’t know whether he should feel lucky or not with Y/n trying to start small talks between them. Lucky because he didn’t have to come up with a topic, unlucky because he had to keep building lies upon lies.

“What year are you in?” Y/n kicked a small rock away from her path.

Yoongi counted in his head. 21 years olds usually were in their third year.

“Third. You?”

“Same. What are you studying?”

“I’m in art. Music.” In his defense, he did music in his free time, so he wasn’t exactly lying.

Y/n halted in her tracks. “Music?”

Uh, oh. Did he just say something wrong?

Yoongi also stopped walking and gave Y/n a questioning look.

“As far as I know, there’s no music major here.”

“Umm… I mean I’m studying art, but also join the music club.”

Y/n started walking again. “I see.”

Yoongi sighed in relief. Nice save.

“What-” The words caught in his throat. “What about you?”

“Science.”

The interview went pretty much the same. Only a series of questions and short answers. She was right when she said she didn’t have anything to say about the red string.

“Do you believe the red string?”

“No.”

“What do you know about it?”

“Not much.”

“Like?”

“Some people can see it.”

“And?”

“It connects soulmates.”

Yoongi stifled a laugh. If only life wasn’t so cruel, it would happen.

“What if I tell you I can see the red string?”

Y/n shrugged. “Good for you.”

“You don’t wanna know to whom yours is connected?”

And other questions that Yoongi had tuned out in boredom. From his peripheral vision, Y/n was holding back a yawn as if to confirm to him that the interview was indeed boring. The now cold coffee in front of them did nothing to keep them alert.

Thanks to his ability to ignore his surroundings for long periods of time, the interview came to an end before he knew it.

Namjoon glanced at the clock before closing his notebook. “It’s almost 10. Sorry to keep you until late.” He stood up and shook Y/n’s hand. “Thank you for helping us.”

“No problem,” Y/n said, though her eyes were starting to droop.

Yoongi was trying hard to hold his smile. It was a rare sight to see someone so tired they barely could keep their eyes open.

Worry and realization clawed at his heart at the sight of Y/n. With a little money he had in his pocket, he had to pay for her favor. Not pay directly with money, because that would be rude. But maybe give her something that she needed.

As if on cue, he heard Y/n’s stomach rumble as they said their goodbyes.

That was it! He could buy her food as a thank you.

He only had money to feed one person, though. It was supposed to be his dinner.

Yoongi bit his lip in confusion. He needed to pay tonight because he didn’t know if they were going to meet again. Plus, going without food for one night wouldn’t be that bad for his health, right? He could just start breakfast earlier the next morning.

He had made up his mind.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna eat?” Y/n asked after swallowing her burger. In front of her, Yoongi could only stare at her food while drooling.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You can take my fries.” She pushed her fries towards Yoongi. “I don’t eat fries. They make me fat.”

He gratefully shoved one into his mouth, savouring it before chewing on it. “And burger doesn’t?”

“Well, it contains meat and lettuce, so it’s not 100% carbs.”

Yoongi silently nodded though he was sure a burger contains more calories.

“How come I never see you on campus?” Y/n asked.

They had been walking towards her place for a while and Y/n refused an awkward silence to fill the air.

“We’re in different buildings, remember?”

This wasn’t a lie. Yoongi indeed worked most of the time in the arts building, a solid 100 meters away from the science building.

“Right. I keep forgetting that. Sorry.” Y/n giggled. As cliché as that sounds, her laugh sounded like bells in his ears.

“Don’t be sorry. No one really cares about art majors.”

Her giggles died down. “I care. I think art is a great way to make a statement. Not to mention it transcends all language barriers. A great media to change the world, isn’t it?”

That was definitely a view of art that Yoongi had never heard before. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t stunned at her words.

“Wow,” Yoongi eventually blurted. No wonder she was giving a speech a few hours ago.

Y/n stopped in front of a huge gate belonging to an apartment building before turning to him.

“Thank you for the food and for taking me home. I owe you one.” She smiled.

“No. Take the food as a thank you for helping me with my article.” At this point, lies came flowing out of his mouth. “And taking you home is just something normal everyone does.”

“Still. I gave you a favor, but you gave me two. It’s only right if I pay you somehow.”

“I want to, though. It helps me sleep at night.”

Yoongi stared at Y/n’s eyes. They were droopy and red from sleepiness, but still held sincerity. Before he drowned in her eyes, he pulled himself back and nodded.

“Okay.”

That night, Yoongi fell asleep with a half-empty stomach and a full heart.

The next few days went by as usual. Wake up, get ready, go to work, go home, sleep. No Namjoon, no Y/n, nor Taehyung in his mind. He was truly back to his boring life before his string disappeared.

The only difference was the ringing noise of Y/n’s words in his ears. ‘Art is a great way to make a statement.’

All these times, he only did art—music—because it was all he knew. He’d known of the possibility of making a statement with music, people had brought politics and social issues into their songs, but he wasn’t brave enough to challenge himself with those issues. He always thought that only famous or rich people were allowed to make such statements.

Yoongi’s next interaction with Y/n was in the form of a text.

Hey, Yoon. Sorry for disturbing you. But I’m curious whether my interview will make it to the campus’ newspaper.

He quickly made up another lie.

Hey. It’s fine. The team decided to change the topic, sorry. Kinda sad, I know.

Y/n instantly replied.

But you’ve worked hard for this! Can’t you say anything to them?

Oh, how he wished he could. Problem was, he wasn’t even a student here.

No convincing will do. They have made up their mind.

Y/n sent in two messages.

That’s inefficient journalism, wasting perfectly good interviews.

Before he got the chance to read Y/n’s second message, his supervisor warned him to put his phone down.

He only got the chance to read the message after his shift ended.

I think it’s the right time for me to pay you back, don’t you think?

Ice cream definitely wasn’t the first thing that came to his mind when Y/n said she wanted to pay him back. He was thinking something like paying for his bus ride home, or maybe buying him some food just like what he did for her. Basically anything that would be more useful than just a sweet dessert that couldn’t even fill an empty stomach.

He wasn’t one to complain, though. In his defense, he hadn’t had one in a long time; he didn’t even remember when was the last time he ate one. He was rather happy to break his long streak with Y/n.

“Something’s wrong with the journalism club,” Y/n said before putting a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

“How so?”

Y/n waved her spoon around. “How redundant to have a person interview a bunch of people only to change the topic in the end?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Things happen.”

“Does this happen often? If yes, that’s crazy.”

“I don’t think so.”

Y/n snorted. “You probably wanna keep your club’s secret. I understand.” Y/n angrily scooped her ice cream. “Aren’t you angry at being mistreated like this?”

“To be honest, I don’t care. It’s not like I like this club anyways.”

“You should leave the club, then. Do something you actually like instead of rotting in that club.”

Yoongi just nodded. What else could he do? He wasn’t even a member to begin with.

“What do you like to do? You said something about the music club.”

“Yeah. I do music in my free time although I’m not that active in the club.”

“Do you do gigs?”

Finally a topic he didn’t need to lie about.

Yoongi answered after he swallowed, “I don’t do that type of music. I don’t perform. I produce music.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “This is the first time I know a music producer. What's it like to produce music?”

Yoongi told her about the first time he learned how to produce music, who taught him that, and even where he learned that. He was 13 at the time and a neighbor offered to show him how to produce music. It was the first time he knew music, it was love at first sight.

“I think it’s great for you to know what you wanna do,” Y/n commented after he finished his story.

“That’s the thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I want to pursue it deeper but I don’t know how.”

“You can take up producing jobs?” she suggested.

It was time for him to open up. “There’s this entertainment company looking for an intern, but I don’t know if I can squeeze some time for that.”

Y/n’s face that was once relaxed, now became stern. “Are you sure you want to produce music your whole life?”

It was the same question his parents had asked him when he told them he wanted to do music.

He nodded.

The creases in Y/n’s face disappeared as she leaned back in her seat. “There you have it. Clear up your schedule and run for your dreams. If it’s worth it, you make time for it.”

That was the cue he needed to send his CV.

Despite his protests of not wanting to disturb her time, Y/n met Yoongi after her classes ended just a few days after he sent his CV.

Y/n grinned immediately upon seeing Yoongi in front of the campus’ gates.

“Have you seen the results?”

Yoongi shook his head, not trusting his voice.

“What are you waiting for? Open it!” Y/n peered into Yoongi’s phone.

With clammy, shaky hands, he opened the email and read the message.

Dear Min Yoongi,

We’ve read your CV and would like to discuss more with you on Tuesday, July 6th, 2021 at 13:00.

Regards,

Go Youngjae

He was still registering the message and rereading it over and over again when Y/n jumped and yelled, “This calls for a celebration!”

Y/n, her yellings, and people watching them thinking they were weirdos were all around him, yet his mind was clouded with the words from the message.

Only when Y/n grabbed his shoulders to grab his attention he was brought back to reality.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Huh? A celebration?”

Y/n nodded so enthusiastically he worried she would accidentally hurt her neck.

“Okay, then.”

Y/n took a sip of her beer. “I’m jealous of you.”

Around them were bustling with people coming home from their work to eat.

“How?”

“You’re talented enough to achieve your dreams.”

“I’m not accepted yet.”

“Yet,” Y/n emphasized. “It’s just a matter of time before you work there.”

Yoongi frowned. “What do you wanna do then?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know,” she whisper-yelled before taking a large gulp of beer. “And people think we’re adults who are supposed to know what we’re doing.” Y/n snorted.

Yoongi sipped on his own beer while nodding. Sometimes people around him forgot that he was a 21 years old kid who still needed guidance on life. Just because he had two jobs, didn’t mean he knew what he was doing.

“Are you happy with your life right now?” he asked.

Y/n shrugged. “I’d like to think so.”

“Then keep doing what you’re doing.” He knew his advice didn’t help, but he wasn’t graced with the talent to console people.

“I can’t keep being a student.” Y/n laughed in frustration. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “In a year, we’ll graduate. And then what? It’s all black for me while you’re interning. At least you have direction while I’m still as blind as a bat.”

“That sounds depressing.”

“Because it is!” Y/n whined before taking another sip. “Sorry to ruin your celebration with my sad girl problems. Let’s just talk about you.”

Oh, Y/n didn’t know how much he’d rather have his celebration ruined by Y/n than to celebrate on his own.

In between her fading makeup, he could see Y/n’s face started to turn pinkish. Out of courtesy, he gently pulled her beer away from her.

“I think you’re tipsy.”

“No, I’m not.” Y/n reached back for her beer but it was out of reach. “Give it back.”

He argued with something he knew she wouldn’t refute, “You’ll ruin our celebration even further if you’re drunk.”

That kept her sober for the rest of the night.

“I think you’re too keen for celebrations,” Yoongi commented as he eyed Y/n with a bottle of wine. He didn’t even want to know how much it cost a fortune to buy that.

“Who doesn’t like to celebrate?” Y/n sat on her couch and patted the space beside her. “Don’t just stand there. Sit down!”

It was just a few hours after his interview. While he didn’t want to assume how well it went, Y/n believed it went pretty well. In her defense, had the interview gone wrong, he wouldn’t be here in her apartment, he would be crying away in his bedroom. Thus, Y/n convinced him to have another celebration.

Y/n couch was soft to the touch and probably cost more than his kidneys, he felt bad of having to sit on it and potentially dirtying it. But Y/n didn’t pay attention to it while she poured the wine into his glass.

“We have work tomorrow.” He immediately corrected himself with a cough. “Class, I mean.”

“We won’t drink a lot.” She handed him his glass. “Just one glass.”

Yoongi took the glass. “Just one glass.”

But of course one glass turned to two, and three, and a morning full of confusion and hangover.

Yoongi woke up startled. He sat up and gasped for air. His head was killing him, as if someone was hammering his head. His throat was dry, as dry as the desert. More importantly, he didn’t know where he was until the memory of the night before came rushing into his head.

Y/n pouring his drink, laughing at something silly he said, leaned closer and closer to him as her awareness slipped away little by little. And the feeling of her chapped lips on his.

He choked on his saliva. Did he really just kiss her? Or was it just a dream?

His fingers lingered on his lips, trying to remember the taste of Y/n’s lips.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a familiar voice emerged from the kitchen. “Are you thinking about the kiss?”

Yoongi stared at the girl sitting on the dining table.

“Relax, nothing happened. Just a drunken kiss.” She shrugged before shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

How could she talk about the kiss so lightly? Or maybe he was reading too much into it while the kiss really didn’t mean anything.

“Does that happen often?” he croaked. He winced, he really needed to drink.

As if reading his mind, Y/n grabbed a glass of water and gestured to it, ushering him to take it.

Yoongi slowly got up from the couch, hissed when his headache flared, and walked to the dining table.

“Being drunk or the kiss?”

“The drunken kiss.”

She snorted. “Can you believe it? I don’t get drunk that often and I don’t kiss people every time I’m drunk.”

“You were almost drunk a few days ago.” Yoongi took a seat in front of her.

“Almost. Not completely black out drunk like last night.”

With how nonchalant Y/n seemed, Yoongi blurted out the burning question, “Doesn’t the kiss mean anything to you?”

“I’d like to believe that a drunken kiss means nothing.” She shrugged. “We’re drunk, we can’t even recall it. A meaningful kiss is not a kiss you easily forget.”

“And if you’re drunk but still remember it?”

“Is it still meaningful if the person you kiss doesn't remember it?"

Just like how it always had been, Y/n’s words rang through his ears for days. When he was scrubbing the walls, mopping the floor, taking the trash out, and even on the weekends when he had deliveries.

Not only her words, but the taste of her dry lips and the way she leaned to him etched permanently in his mind. The way she poured him a drink, the way she lazily ate her breakfast. He memorized it all like a fanatic memorizing the Bible. Not leaving a single detail out.

It was just a matter of time until he decided to take action against it.

“I can’t do this. I need to come clean with her.”

The time happened to be a week after the kiss after Taehyung’s cafe closed for the day.

“What? Who? Why? What happened?”

“I think I’m starting to like her, hard. Y/n, I mean.”

Taehyung gave him a meaningful look.

“Don’t give me that look,” Yoongi groaned. “I know it’s wrong because we’re supposed to be enemies. But she’s so fascinating, you know.”

“Tell me about it.”

“She has this… different views of things.”

Taehyung nodded understandingly. “Of course. A quirky girl who can change you. Like an unoriginal love story.”

Yoongi thought, had Y/n been there with them, she would say something along the lines of, "That what makes those movies realistic, doesn't it? Real people don't fight zombies for love."

His mind had been poisoned with the thought of her.

“She’s not just quirky, okay,” he protested, though he didn’t know whether he was defending himself or Y/n. “She’s not quirky at all. In fact, she’s the typical college student.”

“The rich, spoiled one?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“The rich and spoiled one.” Yoongi nodded while chuckling, remembering your fear of adulthood and your lavish apartment.

“I don’t know, dude. But whether you like her or not, or even love her, you still need to come clean.”

Yoongi quieted down at the thought of having to confess his lies to Y/n.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

What was he scared of? To be honest, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like he was going to confess his feelings or anything. Just coming clean that he wasn’t a student, but a janitor. That he wasn’t a broke college student, just broke.

Maybe he feared the unknown. He was entering a whole new territory he had never been to.

He’d made up lies upon lies to the person he thought he would never kiss, would never be addicted to. Would never wonder how their day went or if they had breakfast.

He was stupid. Stupid for making up those lies, stupid of ever wondering about his red string, stupid for getting involved too deep with Y/n. His supposed-to-be enemy, a person he should’ve avoided. Stupid for catching feeling with her.

He wanted to kick himself, or Taehyung, or even Namjoon. Himself because he made up those lies. Taehyung because he supported him. Namjoon because he pushed him to come up with anything.

But he knew one thing for sure. If Y/n left him after his confession, he would never forgive himself.

He was going to keep his secret a little longer. If Y/n leaving him was inevitable, at least he had delayed it as long as possible.

Y/n’s life must only contain college and celebrations.

After the results came back—he was officially an intern—Y/n wanted to hold another celebration in his stead.

“We must celebrate every milestone in our lives,” she had said.

Going by her motto, he reluctantly agreed to have another celebration. This time in the form of a small party. So small, only three people were involved. Y/n, Taehyung, and himself.

“Taehyung is your barista friend, right?” Y/n asked enthusiastically when Yoongi told her about his plans. “I always wanted to work part time as a barista,” she sighed dreamily.

Y/n was in charge of the drinks—Yoongi told her not to bring alcoholic drinks. Taehyung was with the take out food. And Yoongi was going to host the party in his house.

He hoped his mom wouldn’t mind having his friends come over.

In fact, his mom was the complete opposite. She was too hyper in his opinion.

First of all, his mom literally bonked him in his head with a vegetable spoon. “Had you told me about it, I’d make some food.”

Second of all, she embarrassed him in front of Y/n. “Yoongi here never told me that he has a pretty friend like you.”

Third of all, she started playing matchmaker. “Are any of you dating Yoongi? No? I think he looks good with Y/n, don’t you think, Taehyung?”

Yoongi had had enough.

“Mom,” he groaned. “Please, stop.”

His mom giggled. “Alright, alright. I’m going back to my room. After you’re done, clean everything up, okay.”

“So, Tae,” Y/n immediately opened her mouth after Yoongi’s mom left, “Is your boss looking for a part-timer?”

“I don’t think so. She never mentions anything about that.”

Y/n nodded sadly. “If she ever looks for a part-timer, can you tell me? I’m interested.”

“Sure.”

Y/n eyes lit up. “Oh my God, really?” She laughed. “I owe you one.”

Taehyung waved his hand dismissively, “Nah, I don’t mind helping out a friend.”

“Are we friends?”

Taehyung shrugged. “A friend of my friend is my friend.”

Y/n clapped in excitement. “That’s what I think, too! I think we’re going to be great friends.”

While they were having a conversation, Yoongi only listened and imagined a life without Y/n. A life after he confessed. His parties would just be filled with silence. Heck, he wasn’t even sure if he would ever throw a party ever again.

But then another thought popped up. This one was more urgent like a ticking time bomb.

He had to leave his current job, and Y/n, to work at his new place.

No matter if he told her or not, she would eventually be out of his life.

The question had changed, then. It used to be when he was going to tell the truth. Now, it was whether he wanted to leave her on a good note or not.

“Hey.” Y/n touched his arm lightly to pull him from his thoughts. “Are you okay? Why are you so glum?”

Yoongi just shook his head, not trusting his own voice.

“Are you sure?” She frowned.

“Y/n, prepare the fruit punch! Let’s have a toast for Yoongi,” Taehyung said, catching both of their attention.

Soon after his friend said that, Y/n’s warm touch left his arm.

Though the party only ended when both of his guests went home, the fun part of the party left with Y/n. It was marked by her phone rings.

She quickly tossed her stuff into her bag and explained, “It’s my alarm. I have an assignment I forgot to do and a class early in the morning.”

“You’re going home now?” Taehyung’s glass of half-full fruit punch looked sad in his hand.

She sighed. “I’m sorry for ruining the party.” She looked at Yoongi. “Again.”

“It’s okay,” Yoongi replied. “How will you get home, though? It’s dark outside.”

“I’ll call a cab.” Y/n slung her bag over her shoulder. “Tell your mom I say thank you for having me.”

With one last glance at Yoongi, she left.

“What does she mean by ‘again’?” Taehyung dared to fill the silence.

Yoongi explained everything. About the burger after her interview, the ice cream, the beer and Y/n’s sob story, the interview and the drunken kiss, and this party. All the while Taehyung listened to every word he said.

“You can’t keep her in the dark. She’s too nice and sincere,” Taehyung finally said.

“I’ll leave her anyway. I can’t keep my job at the campus while being an intern.”

“And never tell her the truth? That’s cruel, dude.”

“It’s either that, or she hates me for the rest of her life.” With a choked voice, he added, “I don’t want her to hate me.”

“You can’t possibly think of that.” Taehyung shook his head. “You’re selfish if you do that.”

“Is it wrong to be happy?” Yoongi cried.

“Yes, if you’re sacrificing her trust. Your happiness is just a lie.”

“But you were the one encouraging me to talk to her back then!”

“Had I known you were going to fall with her, I would have told you to be honest.”

He shook his head, refusing to listen to his friend’s words. He had made up his mind and there was no need for Taehyung to make him doubt his choice.

“I’m going to enjoy my time with her as long as possible.”

Taehyung’s next word, however, echoed in his mind. “You’re going to regret this.”

You’re going to regret this. The words kept ringing in his ears, just like Y/n’s words. But unlike hers that was soothing, this was hot and painful. He deserved it, though. He needed a constant reminder that he was living his best life at the expense of Y/n, her trust, and Taehyung.

“So, there’s this opening party for a new club this weekend.” Y/n stirred her tea with her straw. “And I need a plus one. I’d ask my friend, but she has a seminar or something.”

As Taehyung’s words screamed in his mind, Yoongi asked, “You want me to come with you?”

“Well, if you’re okay with that. We won’t be there long, I promise. I just wanna say hi and stuff.”

You’re going to regret this.

“Sure. What should I wear?”

Y/n shrugged. “Anything comfy. It’s just like a normal frat party at someone’s house.”

Yoongi had never been to a frat party.

By the time they arrived, the party had already started. The music blared out loud, Yoongi was sure the neighbors were filing a complaint. Inside, people were dancing, singing, and playing drinking games.

Yoongi winced when a drunk person hit him accidentally.

This wasn’t a pleasant experience.

Y/n had been long gone from his side, being dragged away from him right when they passed the door. He remembered Y/n flashing him an apologetic smile and mouthed to him, “I’ll be back.”

She’d be back. All he needed to do was stay exactly where he was and don’t catch other people’s attention. He wouldn’t want an art student to recognize him.

“Hey, I think I know you,” the drunk person from earlier slurred.

Yoongi cursed under his breath. So much for trying to stay low profile.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi replied, trying to get away from him, but he instead grabbed his arm.

“Yes, I do. I’ve seen you somewhere.” He called his friends over. “Do you know this guy?”

Gulping, Yoongi saw some of them nodded while the others shook their heads.

“I’m sure I’ve seen him before.” The drunk guy frowned, trying to remember where he met Yoongi. “Did you watch our speech?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. There was no way this dude was a speaker there. He didn’t recall him at all.

“What’s going on here?” A booming voice came from behind him.

Yoongi turned around and sighed in relief when his eyes met with Y/n’s.

“Y/n! Have you ever met this guy?” The drunk guy pointed to him.

“Yes! He’s my friend. Get away from him.” Y/n yanked the guy’s hand off of Yoongi’s arm.

“Okay, geez.” The guy raised his hands in surrender and walked away.

Once the guy was out of ear sight, Y/n hissed, “What were you thinking? He’s a person you don’t wanna get involved with.”

“He approached me first,” Yoongi defended himself.

Y/n shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Just try not to get too close with him.” Y/n whispered in his ears, “He’s a fuckboy.”

Y/n took his hand and was about to pull him out of the party when suddenly another drunk guy stopped them.

Yoongi immediately recognized the boy to be Y/n’s ex, the one she was talking to back at the library.

“Y/n!” he called, pretending to be surprised, but Yoongi could see straight to him. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

Y/n snorted. “That’s supposed to be my line. Now, get out of my way.”

“No way. I haven’t seen you in weeks. I miss you.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “And I don’t. If you have some kind of self respect, please go away.”

“There’s no way you don’t miss me. Are you seeing someone else?” The boy nodded his head towards Yoongi. “Him?”

Y/n gave her ex a straight face for a few seconds. But then her face lightened up as she whispered to Yoongi, “Play along.”

“Yes!” she answered while linking her arm around Yoongi’s. “I’m with him.”

It was the ex’s turn to furrow his eyebrows.

He checked out Yoongi. From his face, down to his clothes and shoes. Scepticism was evident on his face.

“He doesn’t look very loaded,” the ex commented, much to Yoongi’s dismay.

Y/n shrugged. “At least he’s smarter than you.”

The ex’s attention was back on Y/n. Yoongi finally could draw a deep breath.

“He can’t possibly make you happy.”

“And your cheating ass can? Get out of my face.” Y/n pushed the ex away to the point he stumbled.

As Yoongi and Y/n walked past him, the ex yelled, “I’m marking your face, remember that.”

“Whatever. Just ignore him,” Y/n said.

“I’m assuming he’s your ex?” Yoongi asked though he already knew the answer. He could recognize the lanky boy anywhere.

“Yep. Thanks for the help, by the way.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did a lot by staying quiet.” Y/n chuckled softly as she shook her head. “He was looking for a fight, your silence confused him.”

“Why did you come to this party if it’s filled with problematic people?” he asked.

“I need to at least stop by. The club was my idea, after all.” Y/n shrugged. “Plus, not everyone there was problematic. Some are nice.”

Yoongi nodded. “I see.”

Y/n sighed. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

Resigning was another problem he had to deal with. First of all, he needed to make a letter of resignation which he didn't know how to make. Second of all, he had to print the letter though he didn’t have any printers. Third of all, he had to face his manager whom he only met once.

His manager stared deep into Yoongi’s eyes after reading his letter. “You have a new job?”

“Yes.”

“When will you start working there?” His boss tossed his letter to the trash can.

So much for trying to make a good letter.

“Two weeks from now.”

His boss pursed his lips for a moment before answering, “Okay, then. You may leave.”

“Thank you.”

Once he was outside his boss’ room, Yoongi exhaled in relief. His current job was coming to an end.

And so was his friendship with Y/n.

Three days before Yoongi left his current job, Y/n wanted to meet him in front of the campus after her class ended. He didn’t know why she wanted to meet him. After all, all she sent was a short text.

Meet me at 7 at the usual spot. Important!

He couldn’t help but to feel a sinking feeling at her last word. Did she find out about who he actually was? Or about the red string?

He was going to get his questions answered soon since he could already see the back of Y/n’s head.

But he didn’t even get the chance to greet her when Y/n turned around to face him and shoved her phone in front of Yoongi. A photo of him in a janitor uniform while holding a broom was displayed.

Yoongi stopped in his tracks and gasped. His eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Where did you get that?” Inside his deepest mind, he knew who’d taken the picture.

“What is this?” she demanded.

“I-”

“This is edited, right?” Her voice wavering, eyes brimming with tears. “You’re just a student just like me. Right?” She sounded desperate. Desperate to believe that Yoongi wasn’t lying to her.

All Yoongi could do was to look down and shake his head in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she sniffled. “I trusted you.”

“I wanted to tell you but I was looking for the right moment.”

“Bullshit! That’s all what they say. Have you ever thought of me as a friend?” She stared at Yoongi with so much venom in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

Y/n wiped her tears aggressively. Her mascara started to run down her cheeks. She looked similar to the day at the library. The day Yoongi was making fun of her ex for being stupid. But this time, he was the stupid one.

“Stop saying sorry, dammit! What part of you are real? Are the company, the email, your internship all lies? Your ambitions, too?” At this point, her tears flowed freely down her face. “Answer my questions!” she yelled ferociously, not minding about passersby who stopped to watch them.

Yoongi really wanted to spill everything. From the library, the connected red string, then when it disappeared, the speech, and the friendship he’d gotten from it. But his mouth was sealed. Closed with the weight of the words.

With the lack of an answer, Y/n shove her phone back into her bag. She nodded and sniffled one last time.

“You’re just like my ex. A liar. A dirty, dirty liar.” She laughed sourly. “You know what’s funny?”

Yoongi shook his head.

“The fact that my ex was right all along. You can’t make me happy.” She visibly gulped, trying to hold back her tears. “Thanks for the friendship all this time. Goodbye.”

Just like that, she left his life without a trace.

Each word coming from her mouth attacked him like bullets. And it only hurt more every time he replayed it. He liked the pain, though. He deserved it after ruining his second friendship. He deserved it after hurting his friend.

The remaining days at his current job dragged on. He couldn’t focus at all. He kept forgetting his tasks, forgetting to turn off the ACs after the classes were over, getting scolded by his supervisor.

Not to mention that he found out Y/n had blocked him on every single of his social media, effectively cutting any means of communication.

“The manager told me you’re leaving. But I don’t want you to slack off,” his supervisor once said.

He wanted to scream at his supervisor, his manager, anyone that there was a giant tear in his heart. His heart was bleeding and it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. The best he could do was show up to work. But just like at the night when Y/n confronted him, his mouth was shut tight.

That same day, Namjoon visited him after his shift ended. While there was a twinkle in the leader’s eyes, Yoongi’s eyes were filled with void.

“I’m done with my research,” Namjoon said.

Yoongi sighed. He just wanted Namjoon to say whatever he had to say and leave him alone. Better if Namjoon cursed him too before he left.

“You’re actually in a good place.”

Yoongi wanted to laugh at that. Oh, the irony.

“She’s no longer your enemy. But, you're in a grey area right now. Play your cards right, and you'll find your true love. Take a step wrong, and you'll make a new enemy.”

“Look.” It was the first time he opened his mouth in front of Namjoon. “I know you’re just trying to help. But it’s too late.” He bit his bottom lip. “I already made her an enemy.”

Instead of curses, Yoongi was getting a warm, knowing smile.

“It’s to be expected, actually. Your string was attached to her, after all. I never said it was easy to make her your true love. Only that it was a possibility.”

“Then, do I still have the chance to-” He didn’t need to finish his question for Namjoon to know what he wanted to say.

“Since you’re no longer attached to her, your enemy status is not permanent.” Namjoon laughed. “So, I’d say, go for it.”

Yoongi stared at the ground in disbelief. Warmth emerged from his heart, where emptiness was once, and spreaded throughout his body.

“But she hates me,” he whispered.

“I’m not a counselor. But you might have a chance, if deep down she feels the same.”

That was the problem. He didn’t know if she felt the same.

On his last day, Yoongi was packing his stuff up from his locker, shoving it mindlessly into his old duffle bag.

His supervisor was leaning against the locker beside him with an envelope in hand.

“You’re actually leaving, huh?”

“I don’t break promises.” Yoongi zipped up his bag and closed the locker.

His supervisor handed him the envelope. “Here’s your pay. Thanks for working with us.”

With a curt smile, Yoongi accepted the money. His job here was done.

He was about to leave the perimeter of the campus, promising himself not to look back for the last time, when he heard someone shout his name. Someone he had been dying to talk to. Someone he’d be willing to break his promises for.

He turned around and came face to face with the owner of the voice.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.

Yoongi gestured to Y/n to talk first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain first. I was too caught up in my emotions.”

“No worries. It’s nothing compared to lying.”

“I've already come to terms with it. You were probably scared. It happens to the best of us.”

Yoongi nodded. “I was. This is better, actually. I don’t need to hide the truth anymore.”

“What were you scared of?”

He took a moment to respond. “I guess, being rejected.” It came out more like a question.

Y/n frowned. “Why would I reject you?”

“In my mind, you’re rich and amazing and perfect, basically everything a person wants to be. And because of that, I’m scared you’d think of me as being less than you.”

Y/n snorted. “I’m not perfect. My life is fucked up in its own way. I just never tell anyone about it.”

His mind reverted back to Y/n’s fight with her ex back at the library, and again at the party.

“I would never think of you less. Even if you lied to me.” Y/n flashed him a genuine smile, a sign that he had been forgiven. “Mistakes happen so we can learn from them. What’s important is that at least we acknowledge that and learn to be better.”

Yoongi nodded. He knew her words would ring in his ears for days as usual.

“May I know who took the photo?” he asked.

“My ex.”

His suspicion was confirmed. Somehow he felt even more at peace.

“He marks my face, no wonder.”

“I already told him not to mess with you again.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s nothing.” Y/n shook her head.

Y/n looked down at the duffle bag in his hand. “You’re leaving now?”

“Yeah. It’s time for me to move on with my life.” ‘And move on from you’, he added in his mind.

“Do you wanna grab ice cream for the last time? For old time’s sake?”

Y/n scooped her ice cream as she said, “Stupidly, I forgot to give you the chance to explain yourself. Again.”

Yoongi shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”

Y/n dropped her spoon. “It is for me. So for my sake, please explain.”

Just like that, Yoongi blurted everything out. Letting out everything that had been pulling him down. The fight at the library, the interview, and everything happened after that. Including the red string.

“Wait, red string?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows.

“Right. You don’t believe the red string actually exists, do you? Well, I can see it.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as big as saucers. “Are you making up another lie?”

“Unfortunately, that’s the truth.”

Y/n leaned back in her chair as she snorted. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“Well, if you don’t believe me, you can ask Taehyung. You believe him, right?”

“Yeah, he’s still my friend.” She blinked her eyes repeatedly. “But what does that have anything to do with him?”

“He can see them, too. That’s how we know each other, actually.”

Y/n laughed in surprise. “I’m surrounded by crazy people.”

“We’re not crazy!” Yoongi searched for Taehyung’s contact in his phone. “Just talk to him first.”

After one ring, Taehyung picked up the call.

“Why are you calling me? I don’t want to talk to you until you’re telling her the truth.”

“I’m doing that right now, but I need your help.”

“For what?”

“Tell her about the red string, our red string, and the fact that we can see them because she doesn’t trust me.”

A shuffling sound could be heard in the background. “Okay. Give her the phone.”

During the entire phone call, Y/n was mostly nodding while saying, “Yes”, or, “Sure, or, “I understand.” Some questions were also thrown around like, “Mine was attached to Yoongi?”, and, “Mine disappeared?”

A few minutes later, the call ended and Yoongi’s phone was back in his hand.

“Wow,” that was all she said.

“So, do you believe me now?” Yoongi bit his bottom lip.

“Now I understand why you lied to me.” Y/n giggled. “Had you not lied to me, I wouldn’t come with you.”

“That was what went in my head at the time.”

“But what if I believed the red string? Or if I could see them?” Y/n teased before shoving her ice cream into her mouth.

Yoongi was stunned for a while. “I’d like to not think about that.”

Y/n laughed so loud it was etched into his head permanently.

The ice cream date could only go so long before they had to part ways and go home.

“So, this is goodbye?” he asked nervously, the duffle bag still clasped in his hands.

Y/n shook her head and smiled. “No. I believe this is a ‘see you later’.”

“See you later, then?”

“See you. When you’re famous, please have a collab with me so I can be famous, too.”

Yoongi let out a genuine laugh for the first time since the fight with Y/n.

Though parting and saying goodbye were never his forte, at least he could let out a laugh. He wouldn’t want his ‘see you later’ ruined with tears or sobs.

Not only Y/n’s laugh was stuck in his mind, the way Y/n’s hand flicked when she waved at him would also be another memory of her he treasured the most.

He swore to himself he still remembered the way to the administration office, but somehow all memories of the campus suddenly disappeared once he went past the gates.

As he was trying to recall where the administration office was, his thoughts were interrupted with a loud cheer coming from a group of girls in graduation gowns.

He frowned and stared at the group, showing his displeasure.

“Wait, Yoongi?” A girl ran away from the group and hugged him, making him stagger.

Yoongi was about to scold whoever just hugged him when his eyes landed on a familiar face. It was Y/n, his old crush.

“Y/n?” He stared at her attire. “You’re graduating?”

Y/n nodded while flashing her teeth at him. “Surprise!”

“You didn’t tell me you’re graduating.”

“Well, it’s been a year since we last met, right? It’s time for me to graduate. I’m sick of this place.” Y/n glared at him while pointing to the map he was holding. “And you didn’t tell me you’re a student here.”

“It’s only right to study here after working here.”

“Still! What about your work?”

“My boss wants me to pursue a higher education.”

“Oh, I see.” Y/n turned around to look at her friends before facing back to Yoongi. “I’m almost done with my stuff.” Her eyes glistened in mischief.

With a bored look, Yoongi asked, “What do you have in mind?”

He still remembered how outgoing Y/n was. It was something he liked about her.

“You finish whatever you need to do, then meet me at our usual spot, then we go for ice cream. What do you think?”

“Is it another celebration?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.”

Yoongi’s smile was enough as an answer.

[Masterlist]

[Taglist]

@lyoongx @jjddk @babeejeon @thehopelessromanticclub @okvmv

Join/leave my taglist here

[finniestoncrane]

HELLO FINNIE!! HELLOO FINNIEE!!!

We already talked a bit about this but, would you make some headcanons about how all the mercs from TF2 would hug and comfort someone having a bad awful day?? Please and thank so very very much LOVE YOU 🧡

TF2 Merc Headcanons thank you gus gus for asking me for my very personal and no doubt completely off-canon opinions on the boys!! i too needed some comfort and hugs from them omg u-u i'm also very much hoping that these work platonically and romantically!! ❤️ request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: comfort, hugs, cheering up attempts

scout

he struggles to take things seriously, younger brother in a sitcom ass

"there, there, it could always be worse... i guess, maybe... probably not though this is pretty bad"

a gentle pat on the shoulder, and then another, and then another, and then a relatively painful whack to see if the shock works

playful teasing that maybe makes things worse at first, but makes you giggle

and then when he takes it too far, gives you a reason to pummel him, which lets you release some of the anger!!

even with his often blunt and immature response, there's always a sense that he cares deeply

it's there in his embrace, a one armed side-hug that pulls you in close while he asks you in his softest tone

"hey, you wanna go play baseball or somethin'?"

pyro

hugging isn't actually his go to response, and it's not third or fourth on his list either

first of all, he's taking you outside to set fire to something

it's cathartic, and fun, and dangerous!! and FIREY

then he's trying all of the things that make him happy!!

you can play dolls with him? or have a tea party with his stuffies!

or maybe you just wanna lay on your tummy on the floor and do some colouring in

but if none of that cheers you up, and he can't destroy the thing/person that made you sad

then he'd wrap his rubbery little hands around you and bring you in for the biggest squeeze he can offer

sniper

pack it up fellas, it's time to head out on a "touch some grass (or sand)" nature trip to cure the blues

you get to sit up front in the van, obviously

not in the back where you're bouncing off the walls and ceilings

he'll stop at every service station to get you a fun beverage or a snack on the off chance that it will make you crack even a little smile

and then you'll be out there in the world, safe because he's standing directly beside you

he's surprisingly big on physical affection, so he'll have you in a side hug most of the time, just to keep you comforted

and before he lets you go off to your room, he'll get out of the van and give you the biggest hug

full body, very warm, very gentle, completely silent

heavy

the gentle energy in him is in itself, quite intense

likely because he has all of this stored up nurturing and soft encouragement and gentle adoration

but his sisters don't really need it (and let's face it they never did, he just over worried)

so if he has a reason to love and comfort, he's taking it

you'd barely even have to utter a little word of sadness and he'd be wrapped around you

maybe so tight that you might have to get your ribs checked at the emergency room

but the bear hug is worth it

it's warm, safe, comforting, everything that heavy is

and bonus: he can lift anything and anyone

so if you need to be cradled like a leetle behbeh to get some sleep or to work through the sadness, then he can do that!!

soldier

TURN YOUR FROWN UPSIDE DOWN SOLDIER!!

there's so much to be grateful for!! like freedom!! and honey!! and guns!! and america!!

but if none of that works, he's willing to put his shirt back on just long enough to let you nuzzle into his chest for a hug

and if you're very lucky, you might feel another large set of arms around you

because if soldier is hugging you, then zhanna is joining in

maybe with a menacing reminder to stay away from her man

but still with enough warmth that you're surrounded from both angles and left with a fuzzy feeling in your chest

and a little bit sweet and sticky too...

medic

a sensible shoulder pat is his first port of call, because he's usually elbow deep in some body cavity or other

and there's not much he can offer in the way of extensive comfort that doesn't involve you being covered in blood, or worse

but once he's cleaned up, he's all OVER you

you're just a little dove in need of some snuggles

a little soft coo in your ear while he holds you close

a gentle stroke with his large hands so he doesn't hurt you, keeping things light and gentle, not intense (as he usually is)

face smothered in his chest as he rocks you back and forth and sings a deeply concerning lullaby

and then, if none of that works, he'd let you root around in his pile of "dead bits" for something to carve up

it really does let out all of the tension and stress

engineer

oh no don't be sad, he can't engineer his way out of this one...

or can he... OH!! maybe what you need is some comfort, he can do that

just give him 16-20 hours and a large amount of sheet metal and screws

he can work something out, like a little machine that can pat your head at different intervals depending on your needs

or a set of arms that can hug you, as well as deploy turrets and toss grenades!!

but you still look sad... perhaps, while you're waiting on him to create the cure for your sadness

you'd like a little hug?

and honestly, who can hug better than a short king with thick arms? perfect height, perfect squeeze, sweet little honied words to make you smile

absolute love bug with a perfect remedy (eventually...)

demoman

"do you want to drown your sorrows like a horrible wee beastie?"

"or do you want me to come over there and cuddle ye like a wee bairn?"

you can choose one or the other, or both!! either way your soul is going to feel lighter and warmer by the time he's finished with you

and, realistically, you're gonna get hugged either way

once he's drunk enough he won't be able to stop himself from holding you so tight you can't breathe, smooshing your cheeks between his palms, and just generally loving all over you

"yer a bonnie wee thing, i wish you never had to pout they wee lips"

he's slurring his words, but they're all meant with the greatest of sincerity

and you can bet he'd be just as willing to do it all sober

spy

he's a man of few words when it comes to comfort

somehow, despite his confidence in every other area and his preparation for every scenario, this one escapes him

the risks are a lot greater, somehow, than anything else

because he feels like he has to cheer you up, he has to make you feel better

anything less is a failure in his mind

so if you come to him with wet, sad little eyes he won't say a word

a quick grab of you by the shoulders, bringing you in to his room

where he'll wrap a robe around you and make you a nice omelette

and feed it to you in manageable bites

and give you a little tiny peck on the cheek and a quick tap on the head

and then a hug that could be formal or very romantic, it's hard to ascertain the meaning behind it, but it gives you exactly what you need without revealing anything

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | mutual masturbation

pairing | best friend!ransom drysdale x reader

warnings | very innocent!reader, bordering on little!reader. soft!ran <333 specifically soft for reader. ddlg undertones tbh (no use of the word daddy but ran is daddy af and also tells reader to "be a big girl" multiple times.) reader is having orgasm troubles/anxiety. mutual masturbation (clit rubbing, jerking off through pants.) subtle humiliation vibes (not verbalized.) praise and encouragement. delayed orgasm. he steps in and helps/finishes her off. he also comes in his pants lol. they come together! :D

word count | 886

it all starts when he overhears you on the phone with your friend, admitting you’ve never been able to make yourself come 😭

it somehow leads to him laying you out on your bed, tugging playfully at your jean shorts. “c’mon, baby. i promise, i wont make it weird. i just wanna help you”

and he’s your beeeest friend, your very best friend in the whole wide world, and you know he’s got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to this sort of thing, so you try to swallow down your humiliation and go along with it

he kneels attentively in front of you as you rest back against your pillows, shyly pulling off your bottoms. he chuckles sympathetically at your cute little pastel panties with your favorite cartoon characters on them. if it were any other girl, he'd probably make fun of them, but you've always been a sweet innocent baby in his eyes so he can't help but find it endearing 💕💕

"c'mon, cutie. don't be shy, it's just me" you try to remember that he's right; it's just your ran, your safe, wonderful ran, who you've known your whole life

you squeeze your knees together as you pull off your panties. ransom's surprisingly patient with you, "let me see, silly. can you show me how you've been doing it? i can't help unless i know what the problem is"

it takes a bit more coaxing before your knees finally fall to either side of you, revealing your perfect little petals which instantly have ran giving you the biggest heart eyes 🥺💖 "oh baby, you're so pretty down there. aww, are you a little wet, sweetheart? it's okay, don't be embarrassed" as you're squirming softly in front of him

your hands are so clumsy as you try to figure out where to even begin. he's right: you're wet (though you swear this isn't turning you on!!!) your fingers fumble around as you lamely begin poking and prodding at your leaky hole

ran raises an eyebrow at you, not sure whether or not you're playing dumb or just really this clueless. "that's it?" he asks in disbelief, clearly not impressed. you sigh, trying not to hide your face in your hands from embarrassment. "what about your clit?" noticing how you immediately grow more squirmy at his question, he calls your bluff- "come on, y/n. be a big girl and show me" 🥲🥲

you finally bring one hand up to begin rubbing carefully over your little button. you fail to hold in a soft gasp at the sudden rush of pleasure, earning a smile from the man sitting in front of you. "there you go. keep going, princess," he encourages you

as the warm, fuzzy feelings grow, you find the courage to spread yourself out a little with your other hand, giving you better access to your swelling bundle of nerves. ran's grin grows as he watches it growing and pulsating beneath your rubs

"shit, sweetheart. so fucking cute when you play with yourself like that," he curses softly, bringing one of his own hands down to begin palming himself through his pants. seeing him getting worked up by you only turns you on more. you don't even notice when your juices begin leaking down onto your bedsheets 🥲

you become more vocal, holding back fewer of your sweet little moans and whimpers. the noises you're making are clearly driving ran crazy, his pace over his impressive bulge quickening as his face flushes red. "fuck, just like that. keep rubbing that pretty little button for me, baby. look at you, you're fucking soaked"

your fingers grow faster over your throbbing clit, your breaths becoming more labored as you feel pressure beginning to build in your tummy. as soon as you recognize what's about to happen, a familiar sense of doubt hits you as your motions begin to falter. "r-ran," you choke out, big eyes looking up at him for help.

he's immediately leaning down with a worried look on his face, quickly recognizing the problem. "no, no baby, it's okay," he tries to cheer you on, "just keep going, you're almost there"

"can't do it," you frown as your poor clit twitches helplessly after being abandoned so abruptly

"yeah you can, come on. let me help," you can't even think to speak up or stop him before he's reaching down, using his own fingers to resume the stimulation. for whatever reason, you lay back and take it. "spread yourself open for me, sweetheart. just like you did before, there," he hums in approval as your hands fumble to do as he instructed. he keeps his pace steady over your hardened nub, watching as you quickly near the edge once more

"now come on, baby. be a big girl and come for me," with him towering over you, one hand gripping himself shamelessly through his pants while the other works your burning button just right, he's able to coax an orgasm out of you with just a simple command

"there it is, that's my girl," he's beaming proudly as you're finally given your release. the sight of you losing control under his simple touch and order is too much for him to handle; he comes right there in his jeans with a loud groan 😌

[maaarshieee]

Can you please Head cannon sleeping with genshin characters? ( Wanderer, Dottore, Childe, Diluc or Kaeya please??) <333

⎯⎯ ୨ Sleepy Eepy (HCs) ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Childe, Diluc, Dottore, Kaeya & Wanderer x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

SLEEPY EEPY BABIES I LIKE,,, WROTE THIS AS SOON AS I GOT IT !! youre such,, brain!! i love your brain... hehehehehe,,, i wanna cuddol wit them when i go eepy... HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHGT!! <3 okay so i might write all guys as clingly so im... trying to give diversity LMAO

He tries so hard to be able to sleep on the same bed as you every night, but he gets too busy with his work as a Harbinger. But with enough effort, he manages to get in bed with you.

Sometimes he comes home awfully late, but there are times when he comes home early.

Sleeps shirtless because he loves, LOVES the feeling of your skin against his freckled body. He absolutely loves skinship, so feeling your hands trace over his scars right before falling asleep? Absolute heaven.

Want him to big spoon? Sure, baby! He loves to wrap his arms around you, it gives him a sense of calmness, knowing that even when he's asleep, he can have you in his arms to protect you from anything.

But if you want him to small spoon? Of course, whatever you want, babe! While he relishes the feeling of being able to protect you... His absolute guilty pleasure was to be held by you as if he's a fragile little thing... 

Your hands tenderly roam all over his abdomen, your chest pressing against his back while you pepper kisses all over his freckled shoulders always sending shivers up his spine. 

It's always so reassuring that, if there ever is a time when he'd be too vulnerable, you'd also be there to protect him, just as much as he'd protect you. 

Similar to Childe, he tries his best to get home on time so he could snuggle up with you and sleep soundly with you in his arms. He often comes home late, and he always feels bad to see you asleep on the couch, waiting for him. 

He's usually tired when he gets home so when he's finally in your embrace, he's immediately knocked out, no matter what position you're in. Diluc's body could be on top of yours and he'd be sleeping soundly.

You'd always have to take off the ponytail for him when he's about to sleep since he'd often forget, just too eager to just be with you in bed.

Not one to care if he's big or small spoon since he's already asleep before he could get himself in position. But he does enjoy being a big spoon, it makes his tense body relax further when his arms are wrapped around you. Your heat, closeness, and breathing are signs that you're still here, right next to him, not bound to disappear.

If you stay awake long enough, you'd hear him whispering your name while he was dreaming, with a small, soft smile tugging on his lips.

Rarely ever sleeps, so the chances of him sleeping with you are always sparse. He doesn't need sleep anymore. 

But if you should ever be lonely, you can just nab one of his segments and cuddle with them to be instead! Dottore encourages this since he can be very busy at times. 

And the segments never refuse, after all, you usually give all your affection towards Prime, so this is a good chance for them to be able to have you all for themselves, holding onto you tightly. 

If you're feeling extra frivolous, you can invite a bunch of segments into your private chambers and have them all sleep with you. It felt weird and suffocating at first, but now you've grown addicted to the feeling of multiple arms wrapping all over your body. They'd occasionally press kisses or nip on your exposed skin as well, anywhere and everywhere. 

Well, only if a segment was daring enough because Dottore is the only one to have access to your entire body. Poor segments :(

At the rare times when Dottore will decide to join you to bed, it usually happens at least 5 times in a row, night after night, before working all night once again. 

It was sporadic, so you never knew when he'd be joining you. Fortunately, you always took it as a pleasant surprise, grinning ear to ear with an incredulous look in your eyes as Dottore starts stripping to put on something more comfortable for the night. 

Dottore doesn't care what position you prefer, as long as it's comfortable and you're touching him. He does like big spooning though. 

His arms wrapped around you, trapping you as he pulls you impossibly close. Because you're his, and his only. Not anyone else's, and having you in his arms only feeds on his possessiveness. 

​Always there to be in bed with you as much as he can. While Kaeya can be busy in the morning, he makes time for you at night. In fact, the Cavalry Captain has become a bit more productive ever since he's gotten with you. 

Of course, he's not there all the time for you, or he's late, so he always makes it up to you by kissing you all over and mumbling sweet nothings in your ear, promising that he'll treat you so nice just to ask you for forgiveness. 

Before you get to bed though, if he's home early, he'd let you join into his nightly routines. It's just an excuse to pamper you even more and touch your cute little face. Plus, it helps you maintain your skincare!

He definitely got you into having nightly routines even if Kaeya comes home late or isn't able to sleep with you. Your skin has never been so healthier.

He adores wrapping his arms around your torso and burying his face in your chest. He thinks it's the most comfortable position to sleep in.

Would always tease you for a bit, tickling your sides or pressing his cold palms against the skin of your back, making you squeal and slap on Kaeya's arm to stop.

Big spoon or small spoon? He doesn't care! As long as he's in your arms, or you're in his arms. It still fills the void of longing in his heart to be so close to you, to have you as his lover.

He'd often wait for you to fall asleep first, only to shower kisses all over your face and whisper soft confessions that he aches to tell you, but was not just yet ready to do so.

And you'd be lying if you hadn't pretended to sleep often, just to hear him say those words over and over.

Always sleeps with you, no questions asked. Ever since he finally allowed himself to indulge in his desires, one of them is sleeping next to you, he never has given you a single night alone on your shared bed. 

In the beginning, his hugs were very tight, desperate, and never letting go, that if he ever did let go, you'd vanish in his arms, never to return. Gradually, it has changed. 

Now, it was gentle. Loose arms cradle you close to him as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, lips brushing against your skin before attacking you with a plethora of kisses, making you giggle. 

They're lighthearted now, loving and secure. He was relaxed and comfortable. While his hands gripping your clothes tells you that he's still desperately clutching onto you, in hopes you'd still be next to him once he opens his eyes, slowly, his hands would let go of your clothes. 

It gives you a sense of relief whenever he does, for you know he trusts you. Trusts that you'd never abandon him, to leave him so hastily without even a proper goodbye. Trusts that even if you decide to go, you'd return if you wanted to. 

He likes small spooning the most. Mostly because it greatly reassures him that he's wanted. That he's important to you. That you'll never let go of him if he ever told you to. That you treasure him, cherish him, adore him... That you still chose him despite his flaws. Despite being a puppet.

If you want to be tagged in future works, fill out this form to be added to my taglist! Remember that usernames are only lowercase and have no spaces!

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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[reticent-writer]

Alot of people asked the same thing so I decided to make one big one so as I used this as a reference

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Charlie called everyone into the living room for a team-building exercise.

"Before we begin, I wanna thank everyone for coming. Today we are going to talk about our feelings." Charlie happily sat as everyone sat on the floor in a circle. She was really excited because she got you and Alastor to participate. (Alastor was standing ain't no way he was sitting on the floor)

"For some of you, it seems like your life is still affecting your death. sooo, we will try and scratch the surface of that trauma with.... Dolls." She squealed as she pulled out a bunch of ragdolls from behind her.

"You don't have to use the dolls btw." Vaggie commented with Charlie whispering 'but it's encouraged' right after.

"Why don't you go first y/n." Alastor said with the same wicked grin he always had, "You had a lot to say yesterday."

"Oh fuck off." You flipped him off, "You of all people know my background. If you find it so interesting then you tell it."

"Don't be like that, It's your story to tell not mine." He grabbed a few dolls from Charlie and gave them to you but you didn't use them.

You sighed as you started your short story, "My dad was a drunk jerk with anger issues, my mom was also a drunk and Alastor's tailor. Alastor practically to me and my siblings in annnnd the rest is history."

"That's it?" Angel questioned as he leaned towards you, clearly wanted more details.

"That's it. plain and simple."

"So you see him as your father figure."

You didn't say anything as you looked down at the dolls.

"I don't like talking about this." You tried to say with a slightly hostile tone but your voice betrayed you as your throat started to swell.

"I-it's okay." Charlie placed a hand on your shoulder," Who wants to go next."

Angel volunteered and tried to lighten the mood with an erotic story of how he started..... doing what he was doing.

He successfully changed the subject and made every disguested with what he decided to share. In that moment you saw his progress. He came far and you wanted to thank him for it

---------

Later that night you were in your room midlesly scrolling on the phone Charlie gave you when there was a knock on your door.

You got up to open the door.

There stood Alastor with a surprisingly warm smile.

"Ya know when I met you, you were such a sad kid. You hardly ever made a sound, it scared me. A child like you didn't deserve a family that made you feel that way. I wanted to become your family." He paused for a moment to study your expression before continuing, "I know it's a bit selfish but I'm glad you called dad, my (child/son/daughter)."

You felt the years fall from your eyes but you didn't care as you hugged the man in front of you.

"Thanks, Dad."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

I just realized Cheri Bob was were Angel started before joining the hotel. 　

art by @ghostly-one

[princessbrunette]

rafe whos proud of u for being the bigger person for once ?? maybe in an argument w someone u are always the one throwing tantrums but for (once) u decided to keep the rage to urself and rafe is js so proud :(

🧁ಇ.ೀ

arguing with a friend over text was juvenile — rafe thought so anyway, but he also supposed that a girl like yourself wouldn’t wanna handle all her business face to face, or with violence such as he would.

you’d been in endless conflict lately. what about? he couldn’t tell you, but everyday it was a new argument with one of your friends which lead to a total, utter meltdown which he had to calm you down from. you didn’t take well to being accused of things, you didn’t like being treated poorly and you hated feeling misunderstood. that’s what he’d gathered from these out bursts anyway, usually explained through muffled babbling as he holds you tightly to his chest. you were like him in a sense sometimes, couldn’t control your emotions. however instead of lashing out, you just were a total cry baby.

he’d found you like that when he’d arrived home, being able to hear it all the way from downstairs. he sighs, jogging up the stairs to find you pacing his bedroom, phone tightly clutched infront of you, letting out loud sobs with your eyes glued to the screen.

“whats— what’s all this what’s going on?” rafe pauses in the doorway, dumbfounded and practically gaping at the fact this was happening again. you sniff harshly, voice high and defensive like rafe was the one attacking you.

“she said i’m a bad friend and i’m disloyal but you know i’m not you know i try—” you cough, and rafe walks in, setting his sunglasses and keys down on the dresser.

“who? same girl who was givin’ you trouble yesterday?” he squints, leaning against the dresser as he watches you pace around, an upset wreck.

“yes.” you whine, bringing a fingernail to your mouth as you continue to cry, reading over the message.

“alright, okay so what are you gonna do about it? ‘cos this can’t keep happening everyday baby you’re — you’re not in high school anymore.” he pushes, almost unable to believe for once that he was the voice of reason.

you think for a long time, letting out a sad sob as you lock your phone and drop it onto the bed, wiping your eyes. “be the bigger person.” you repeat his words, words he’s been encouraging you to follow since the first argument. it was difficult, you refused — and he didn’t fight you too hard on it. being the bigger person is hard when you’re being unfairly attacked.

“yeah? come over here.” he opens his arms and you drag your feet over, snivelling and pawing at your eyes. “its hard, alright? if anyone knows it’s me. but you’re… you’re so much better than these girls okay they’re nobodies. trust me. you’re doin’ a good thing kid. believe it.” he gently bats your hands away so he can thumb beneath your eyes instead, cupping your hot wet face with large coarse hands.

“not in high school anymore.” you repeat his words, voice raspy from your own crying and he nods slowly, eyes wide and intense as they stare into yours. he really wanted to get the message across.

“right. you’re a big girl now. time to do big girl things, yeah? when you’re with me, you—you can let all that shit go and lemme take care of things. but when it comes to your friends they’re just immature little girls and you gotta step up. like me, yeah?” he points to his chest in a quick succession of taps. “like daddy.”

you nod in his grasp, exhausted from it all. “okay.”

it’s then he lets you melt against him, cradling your body to his chest and rubbing your back with the wide expanse of his hand. “okay. i’m proud, don’t forget that.”

🧁ಇ.ೀ

[factual-fantasy]

Ah yes, the old King Kong himself! I didn’t actually think I was going to add him and Diddy to my AU because I wasn’t sure how they’d fit.. But after brainstorming with a friend, we found a way! XD

I tried to put a lot of thought into DK and Diddy’s designs. Everything was intentional. Diddy and DK’s ENORMOUS size, DKs long fur, the red and blue tones in their fur, DK having long claws while Diddy does not, Diddy’s clothing choice, EVERYTHING! I tried my best to think it all through.

If ya wanna read about their lore and why they look the way the do, I have a ramble below the keep reading just for you! :D

Ahem,

SO

Off the coast of Daisy’s kingdom is this big island that can be seen from the shore. Daisy sent some of her Delfino people to go explore it but they never returned.. so she sent a rescue team after them, but they disappeared too.

Desperate, she turned to Mario and Luigi for help. Now, Mario and Luigi have just proved their strength and heroism by defeating Bowser. And they ALSO have a pet Yoshi. If anyone can go to that seemingly dangerous island and return? Its them.

Daisy approached them with an offer. You go use your magical powers and find out what happened to my missing people, and I’ll give you whatever you want. They agreed and made their way over...

Only to find destroyed campsites, boats torn apart... and bodies. Bodies everywhere. 

Turns out this island is home to these enormous ape like animals. And they attacked the Delfino’s because they were loud, setting fires, chopping down trees, taking their food, etc. When they encountered the King himself, Yoshi was utterly terrified. He knew he was outmatched. There was absolutely no way he could protect the Mario brothers from this thing. So he just slowly pulled Mario and Luigi to the ground and cowered in fear. Trying to make them all look as non confrontational as possible.

Thankfully their petrified faces and absolute silence labeled them as a non-threat. And the situation was defused. Loads of shenanigan's later and they waved goodbye to Donkey, Diddy and all the other monkey creatures and returned to Daisy with the gruesome news..

Their reward? They just wanted enough food to fill Yoshi’s belly. Poor guy probably burnt all the calories he had trying not pass out back there.

Now the design lore! :D

On this island, there are these really powerful fruits and veggies that have super star power in them, just like Yoshi’s island. Only these ones work a little differently..

There are two main super foods on this island. The giant red beet type veggies that grow deep in the ground. And the big blue fruits that grow in the trees.

The big red beets are really bitter and tough like rocks. But anyone who eats them will begin to grow in size. The gorilla like animals on this island will use their claws to dig them up and use their iron jaws to crack them open and eat them. That’s why Donkey Kong is red. 75% of his diet consists of these bitter, giant red super beets that make him grow to be giant.

Meanwhile Diddy, and all the other Monkey like animals.. they cant dig for these beets. And their jaws are not strong enough to crack them open. Plus the beets are really bitter.. SO, they prefer to climb into the trees and eat the sweet blue fruits that grow at the very top.

These sweet fruits are also powerful in nature, but instead of making you stronger, they encourage brain growth. So all the monkeys that eat this super sweet brain fruit, will just get really smart and their fur will turn more blue.

The two species almost had a war between them. But they quickly discovered they’re better off together. The gorillas can protect the monkeys from threats, while the Monkeys use their intelligence to make tools and shelter.

This peace is further solidified by Donkey Kong and Diddy Kong's friendship. Diddy being the smartest monkey and DK being the strongest Gorilla.

All in all this island is rather peaceful at its core. But in the end its still full of wild animals. And is considered more dangerous than Yoshi’s island. To this day no one has ever returned to DK’s island. Although DK and Diddy would happily welcome the Mario Brothers back with open arms if they ever decided to visit.