#and the comments are full of people crying about how there are more black people in their vidya games now

[silvermoon424]

How it feels to learn about the Sweet Baby Inc controversy against my will, making me realize that there really are mfs out there who want to start up gamergate again

[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!

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ toji fushiguro x his favorite customer (revision)

✧ summary toji has a little soft spot for his favorite customer that he can't get enough of.

✧ content warnings reader is a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. chubby!reader and inexperienced!reader. rich girl in her midtwenties, very needy! usage of profanity, standing missionary, oral - m!receiving, doggy style, mixture of praise and degradation kink, breeding kink, unprotected, creampie and squirting, terms of endearment ─ pretty girl, princess, baby, baby girl, etc. softdom!toji with rough, passionate, and filthy intercourse. told in first POV ─ toji's. i got reader calling toji TJ, and i think that’s so cute pls.

✧ author's note happy birthday to my baby daddy toji fushiguro! we've been going strong now for years. just a little something something to celebrate him. this fic has been in the drafts since December. talk about black people time, old sksk. also, if you already seen the original of this fic on tumblr, it's mine lol. this is just a revision, so don't go around saying i copied someone! my writing has changed so i wanted to redo this and add some adjustments. i hope y'all enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. ♡ AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND/OR MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT.

 

 When it comes to women I fuck, I treat them the same because at the end of the day, they pay me good money to stuff their pussy with cock. 

 Don’t really care if they're married either. I usually get the old, desperate broads that aren’t getting any attention from their husbands at home, so it’s my job to make them feel good for the night. 

 I don’t do favorites. 

 I damn sure don’t give discounts. 

 And I definitely don’t get attached. But the moment I met Y/N that all changed. 

 My favorite customer. 

 Never did I expect a younger woman to pay me to get fucked, especially when she looks that good. 

 I’m almost positive she has a line filled with fuckers that’s desperately wanting to know what this tight, wet pussy feels like, yet here I am, living their fantasy. 

 I fucked Y/N once. 

 Then, twice. 

 Then, again.

 And again.

 And again…

 If I didn’t know any better, I’m fucking obsessed with her. Can’t even say it’s just for the money she’s paying me. Probably the best pussy I ever had.

 No. 

 It is. 

 So fucking warm, and she takes dick well, too. I usually give only an hour or two to my customers, but for Y/N? I reserved the whole night to relish her pussy. 

 The perfect fuck to end my day. 

 Those soft, sweet-sounding moans that slipped through her full brown and pink lips, having my previous cum shot staining them had me running wild. 

 But it seems like I’m not the only one who’s sex drunk. 

 Cock is all on Y/N’s mind right now. Whimpering and crying how big I am and thanking me for giving her dick. Tears pricks those chestnut-colored hues and I’m in fucking awe. She’s so damn pretty. 

 “You know how gorgeous you look taking cock like this? Being a good fucking slut for me, princess?” I ask, being met with a nod and her moaning in response. 

 Y/N’s pussy talks to me. Wet noises spreading throughout the room while I have my arms hooked under the fold of her knees, fucking her recklessly to push past any intrusion. 

 She’s jumping with me every thrust I make, causing her tits to bounce obnoxiously. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on them like it’s my last dying breath, hearing that sweet whimper. 

 I belong in Y/N’s pussy, and she belongs to me, too, the way she’s gripping my cock and milking me. All of her cream and wetness drips between us and down my balls, and it feels fucking amazing. Every time I experience her velvet walls, I find myself becoming more animalistic, hungry and territorial over someone who should only be seen as a client. 

 But fuck, something in me says I would go batshit crazy if I ever found out she had other motherfuckers experiencing this. 

 Knowing how she looks when sweat coats her beautiful brown skin. How it feels to stretch her out and make her adjust to you. Just thinking about it makes me pound into her deeper and more aggressively. 

 “Toji, baby, yes. This feels so good,” she purrs. “Like that. Keep fucking me like that.”

 I hum. “Yeah? This is what you wanted, right? Paid me to please this good pussy?”

 By all means, Y/N isn’t a virgin, but she told me she doesn’t have much experience and I can tell by how tight she is. 

 Our sounds of pleasure resonate in the air, and I call her my good girl, praising how perfect her pussy is, to be met with her squeezing me and watery brown eyes. 

 “Toji… Toji… Yes. God, yes.”

 “Keep using your words, pretty girl. Tell me how much you love my dick in your pussy,” I ordered softly.

 “I love it so much. It’s so big, baby,” she tells me, slurring her words because of her lips still being on mine. “You’re going to make me cum.”

 I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not yet. Come taste yourself.”

 Without hesitation, Y/N slides down to her knees and starts sucking my dick. I hiss at her swallowing me and the warmth of her mouth. She doesn’t take her time when sucking me off, immediately circling her head and throating me. 

 “Hot fucking mouth made to suck dick, huh, pretty girl?” I firmly grabbed her chin so she could look at me. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Open up your throat for me like a good girl.” 

 Y/N hollows her cheeks and bobs her head fervently on my dick, tightening her lips around me. 

 She sucks dick so fucking good, better than any other woman I’ve been with. And I just know I’m bound to bust quickly if she keeps doing this shit. 

 My hand finds the back of Y/N’s head to grip and I buck my hips deeper into her mouth, ensuring I hit the back of her throat everytime. I’m a fucking mad man when I begin fucking the gorgeous face, especially when she’s looking up at me with those big brown eyes. 

 A spoiled brat, prim and shy, who’s spending daddy’s money to get fucked and folded by an old bastard like me. Think I fucking developed a kink for this type because of Y/N.

 I pumped into her mouth more aggressively until she began choking and gagging on my cock. Drool and precum coating her mouth in the process. 

 Any type of control Y/N tries to take, I push past it because I want to use that pretty little mouth of hers how I want. She needs to get her money’s worth when fucking with me. 

 “Going to fuck my cum deep down that throat of yours, and you’re going to swallow it. Got that?” She nods and I softly tap the side of her face. “That’s it. Keep those lips tight around me.” 

 “Toji, pl—please,” she slurs, causing me to chuckle. 

 “Hm, look at you. Trying so hard to talk to me while sucking my dick. It’s cute.” I slow down my quick thrusts, but replace them with more fervent ones, pushing me and her head down until my cock outlines her throat. 

 My balls grow heavy and obnoxiously slaps Y/N’s chin, a clear indication I’m about to fucking cum. 

 Grunting, whining, gasping like a little bitch for air because head like this has a fucker like me sounding like a broken mess. 

 Blood rushes to my groin and I start getting sloppy, feeling my muscles tightening and ache burning between my thighs. I’m close, so fucking close to filling her mouth with my release, then I can finish fucking that fat pussy. 

 Everything about this damn woman is perfect. Her pussy. How she sucks cock. That fucking chubby and curvy body of hers. A pretty face with loaded cash.

 Yeah, she’s definitely mine after tonight. And I’m talking about anything lovey dovey. Meaning if I catch her being a slut like this to anyone else, I’d kill that fucker. 

 No hesitation. I-

 “Y/N, fuck!” I grunt while cumming in her mouth. This load is fucking heavy, but she’s trying her best to swallow every drop. 

 I groan at the sight of Y/N touching her tits and palming her pussy, knowing how much she’s turned on, too. It’s like the vibrations of her moans pulls more cum out my fucking dick.

 A mess I made on her face, but the joyful lust I see in her eyes tells me she doesn’t give a damn. 

 Good, because I’m not finished with her. 

 “All fours on the bed. Now,” I demanded. “Still gotta fill up your pussy.”

 Perfection is what I think when I see Y/N from behind, arched back, ass in the air and pussy dripping, ready for me to fuck. 

 I force an arch in her back and plunge my cock in her tight little pussy with one deep stroke. Y/N gasps in the air and I take the opportunity to pull her up by the throat and start pounding her cunt. 

 Why the fuck is she so goddamn wet? She takes cock well, bud shit, I abruptly slip out each and every thrust. 

 “Keep me inside that pussy, baby girl. Stop fucking letting go,” I gritted in her ear. She reaches behind her to hold my dick and push back into me with a tighter grip. “Hm, just like that. So fucking good to me, aren’t you?”

 “I need more dick, TJ. Fuck me harder, baby. I can take you,” she moans. 

 Begging for cock she’s already paying for… Shit, I get a kick out of how pathetically sexy she sounds. 

 I repeatedly slammed into her wet cunt, thrust after thrust, pussy creaming even further than before. If it’s one thing I can listen to for the rest of my life, it’s how Y/N sounds when she’s being fucked. 

 My name drips perfectly from her lips.

 Our skin smacking fills the air in the room along my hand striking her ass until I guarantee it’ll bruise in the morning. 

 “Look at this fat ass moving when I pound into this pussy. Fucking beautiful,” I growled.

 “Toji, please. I… I don’t care how much… I’ll pay more. Just keep fucking me like this.”

 I chuckle. “Atta girl.”

 I see why motherfuckers catch feelings when fucking pussy. I almost feel tempted to tell Y/N that I love her while fucking her. She has pussy that’ll make a fucker crazy… Possessive… Jealous.

 I applied more pressure to Y/N’s throat and pulled her against my chest. “You know who this pussy belongs to. Right, princess?”

 “God, yes, Toji. You… it belongs to you.” Her voice comes off as a faint cry and I know she’s on the verge of cumming. Especially with how her pussy is pulsating around me. 

 “Mhm, that’s right. Dreamed of my fucking dick pounding this tight little cunt, now I have you mindfucked. Huh?” I pinch her nipples with my free hand and increase my thrusts. “You’re about to come for me. Aren’t you, Y/N? I know you are. I can feel it. You should see the mess your slutty pussy is making between us.”

 “Fuck, I didn’t mean to, baby. It’s just… you feel good. So fucking good,” she whimpers, bouncing her ass back into me to meet with my thrusts. 

 “Maybe I should have you clean it with your mouth. Hm?”

 I release Y/N’s throat to shove her face into the bed and deepen her arch more than before. My single hand returns to her hips to grip, pulling her round ass back on my cock to kiss her center. 

 Can’t get over how wet—how tight and warm this fucking pussy is. The harder I fuck her, the louder her pussy gets and I grunt, curse underneath my breath at hearing the sound of her muffled moans. 

 I don’t give a fuck if one of us catches feelings after this. Actually, I want her to. I want Y/N to be dick hungry only for me. 

 I want her pussy to smell like I’m the only fucker that’s been running through her. I’m even fucking tempted to breed this pussy just so she’s mine.

 Why the fuck would I want to have sex with any other women after knowing what Y/N feels like? 

 “You take cock like a fucking pro. Look at you gripping me. Look at how this pussy is mine.”

 She spreads her ass cheeks to feel every inch of my dick. “Fuck me, Toji. Harder. Fuck me harder, I’m about to cum.”

 “Shit, me too, sweetheart. Such a perfect fuck toy. Going to fill you all the way up,” I rasped. “Fuck me back. Keep taking this dick.”

 My thrusts are sloppy. I throw my head back and swear into the air and moan her name. My balls grow heavier and heavier until I fucking but and empty my cum inside her pussy. 

 And she’s right there with me, crying my name and thanking me for giving her toe-curling orgasm. 

 Fucking enjoy hearing my pretty girl thank me for giving her cock. She just looks so damn pretty when she cums, too. 

 Dark brown skin sweating. The sight of her ruined makeup with mascara running down her cheeks. Moans sounding like a broken record. 

 Yeah, she’s a perfect fuck. 

 My favorite customer. 

© 2024 tojiscumdumpster Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost (sharing links is okay) anywhere. I only upload on tumblr and you will find some of my work in ao3.

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People - Final Part

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.

Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.

And how could Wayne expect him to?

No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.

Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.

He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.

In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.

Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.

But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.

Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.

Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.

He's going to fix this.

He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.

When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.

There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.

Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.

Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.

Eddie's van remains gone.

Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.

Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.

It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."

"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."

He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.

He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.

Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.

The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.

He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.

When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.

Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.

"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."

Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."

"I could have."

They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"

Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.

Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.

Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).

"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.

"Oh, I can fix it-"

"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."

"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.

He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."

Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."

"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"

"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."

It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.

"Yeah. I get it."

He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."

"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."

It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."

Steve frowns at him. "Why?"

Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."

Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."

"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.

"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"

Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."

"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."

Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."

Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."

"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.

Steve throws his head back and laughs.

They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.

Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.

Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.

"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.

He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.

Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.

He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."

Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."

Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."

They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."

"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."

Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.

"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.

Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.

"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.

"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"

"No," says Eddie.

"No," says Wayne, at the same time.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"

Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.

Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.

By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.

Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.

I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette

[catiuskaa]

rice pudding! —bf!felix thoughts.

A/N: the bf!thoughts series is finished! I’m so happy I could finish it. I had so much fun coming up with these lil scenarios. Feel free to check them all out, they’re all linked in my masterlist!

(because i’d kiss each and every one of his freckles SJFJSJGJJS mama i love him)

felix, who pouts, staring at the empty kitchen, and you gently smile at him when he looks at you as you mindlessly watch the TV.

felix, who is still pouting when he sits next to you on the sofa. A soft “…yongbok-a?” rolls of your tongue, and he can’t help but smile at the comfort your voice brings.

felix, who hides his face in the crook of your neck, and he sighs. “I was gonna call Hyunjin and Seungmin over, ‘cause I wanted to cook on live, but they said they had scheduled things or somthing.”

felix, whose arm passes over your shoulders, half-hugging you lazily, laying his legs on your lap and taking your hand with his small one, fidgeting with your rings.

felix, who’s distracted enough to ignore how you press your lips to hide a snort. It had been you who had mentioned the plans to the boys, amused by those two clumsy idiots.

felix, who would be purring if he was more of a cat than he already behaves like, happily enjoying the softness of your hold and the warmth of your body.

felix, whose face lights up impossibly bright when you kiss the corner of his lips, giggling. “Do you want me to help you, baby?”

felix, who hesitates, knowing the company had mentioned that even if STAY knew about his relationship with you, your screen time with him was quite limited for now.

felix, who grins like a child when some paboracha idea connects to his brain.

felix, who can’t stop laughing with you. “Doesn’t this look very stupid?” you’re grinning like a fool at him, just as much as he is.

felix, who had messily tied and hid your hair in one of your dark beanies, then covered your face with a black mask.

felix, who snorts. “Of course not!” He looks at you up and down, thinking, and blushes when you teasingly wink at him, both of you back to laughter.

felix, who runs to his drawer. “The eyes are missing!” You could see him from the hallway, stirring between his belongings, looking for something

felix, who quickly comes back to you. “What the—?” But before you could ask, he settles the last accessory on you, laughing so hard at the full picture that he starts crying.

felix, who watches you, your tone sounding equally amused and shocked. “…sunglasses?” you mentioned, looking at your reflection in the mirror over the tinted glasses.

felix, who’s shining in giddy cheerfulness. “Would you rather I accidentally commit arson?” he teases, and you notice in his smile after accepting that maybe he was exaggerating a little just to have an extra help.

felix, who can’t see your fond, hidden smile as he turns on his phone and greets the fans who enter the live.

felix, who snickers at the confused comments regarding the new mystery debutant—you. "I wanted to record a cooking live, but the members ran away like cowards… so, guys, give it up for skz-ji!” He’s giggling and cheering, a cheeky smile that almost makes you coo.

felix, who after repeating that you were a ‘member of staff’ that had to join to help him so he wouldn’t ‘break or burn anything’ —his words—, introduces the recipe for the whooping 834k people watching: rice pudding!

felix, whose hands come up to hold his tummy as he keeps laughing when you sheepishly wave at the camera and give a shy thumbs up, your shoulders shaking slightly in the failed attempt to cover your laughter.

felix, who, while you go ahead and start washing the utensils prior to use, he goes over and starts reading the comments. Most of them are about you.

felix, who argues that with the amacing armour that you two suited on you, your anonimity will be ok. “Gwenchana?” He teases, looking at you. You lower your sunglasses just enough so he can clearly see your eyebrows furrowed, and then you fan yourself with your hand.

felix, who is loving the whole conundrum as much as the thousands of comments laughing at the strange situation that briefly crossed his phone. “In their defence, I said that I’d burn the house if I cooked alone.” He jokes, going back to the ingredients.

felix, who tries as skillfully as he can, and enjoys the afternoon as you try to direct him without speaking, only whispering and lowering your mask when he moves to cover your face from the camera.

felix, who, after several hours of hard work, sits at the table at your command, and you take your beanie, sunglasses and mask off, now off-camera, encouraging him to try the dessert.

felix, who is cheekily nervous, but his eyes go wide when he shoves the spoon of warm rice and cinnamon. “Wait— It’s actually so good!”

felix, who eats up the serving, and then starts waving goodbye to STAY, mouth half-full.

felix, whose cheeks hurt from smiling so much, now almost red, but he can’t help but cackling loudly again when you chuckle, muttering “back hug!” as you put your arms around the camera.

felix, who sighs happily after you turn off his phone. “You can stay here. I’ll clean up.” You say with a gentle smile.

felix, who looks up at you from the chair, goofy smile planted on his features. “Mmhmm, missed your voice,” and he giggles, watching you blush.

felix, who’s the one back hugging you now as you clean up the dirty dishes and tools, and whispers to your ear a low “thank you, my little rice pudding,” kissing your temple with a snicker.

~Kats, who got this idea because she once burnt a rice pudding after being told to ‘watch it for ten minutes’. ☠️☠️

[letstripdotcom]

losing sleep - matt sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n: much needed enemies to lovers bc i’m a SLUT for enemies to lovers. also country song fic bc i’m a little southern girl🤠

summary: matt sturniolo was the boy you hated most. it wasn’t always that way. one day he just decided he hated everything about you. that was until you slowly started to break down every wall off hatred and anger.

warnings: smut (eventual) mentions of being drunk/drinking, mentions of family problems

well i’ve been losing sleep

like a man loses time

reminiscing over memories

bouta lose my damn mind

he was the kindest, sweetest person to walk the planet. he was absolutely adorable. everyone admired him, and worshiped at he’s feet. matt sturniolo could do no wrong. he had the sweetest smile and the kindest eyes, and he didn’t have a mean bone in his body

but that wasn’t the case for you. matt hated you actually. he couldn’t stand being around you. you genuinely didn’t know why either. you didn’t have a reason to hate him, other than the fact that he hated you.

every time you spoke, he would shut you up by throwing a mean comment at you. when you walked into the room he would groan. he just seemed so bothered by you, but you never asked why. the once time you tried the only thing he said to you was “don’t ever talk to me again” and so you didn’t.

you and matt were best friends at one point. you spent every day together one summer and you were inseparable. you would wake up, go to the triplets house, do whatever, and when the moon came out your adventures had just begun. on the night everything changed you were too blacked out to even recall what had happened. you just woke up the next morning and matt wasn’t talking to you anymore.

-

matt’s pov:

people constantly ask me why me and y/n don’t get along the way we used to anymore, and as much as i want to tell them it’s because i hate her, she’s a terrible person, and things will never be the same, i know that’s not the full truth.

yes i hate her annoying voice, and i hate when she talks about boys, or when she comes to nick crying because some boy broke her heart. i hate the way she laughs and i hate how she squeals when she gets excited. i hate everything about her, but i used to love her once.

it wasn’t until a drunken night in late july that everything changed. y/n and i sat out by the pool at her house as we passed a bottle of pink whitney and talked about our lives. a lot of that night was a blur. but i remember kissing her. we were both so shitfaced, and so stupid.

“hey matt?” she spoke up “hmm?” i turned my head to look at her, as the world around me spun. “would you ever kiss me?” she asked. “i don’t know y/n, why?” i stared at her trying to read her expression to see what she was thinking. she leaned in and kissed me like it was something we did all the time. it was messy, but it was sweet. but what i didn’t expect was what she said to me after.

“matt i think you should leave.” she slurred

“y/n i’ve been drinking i can’t drive.” i argues

“you can sleep on the couch tonight but you need to be gone by the morning matt, i can’t do this.” she demanded

“do what?” i asked

“i’m sorry matt. goodnight.” she got up and stormed inside

and that was the night everything between us changed. i wasn’t friends with y/n after that day. when people noticed the distance between us, i had told them we got into an argument. i told them how much i hated her for it, and i told them i would NEVER love her the same again.

in august, my friend nate threw an end of summer party. i went, but i avoided y/n at all costs. i sat by his pool alone, downing a bottle of malibu. i wanted to just drink until i wasn’t thinking about y/n, but it’s like she never went away. the more i drank the more i thought about her.

i pull out my phone as i start to type her contact in. i’m so drunk i can barely make out the letters, but i try my best. i need to call her. i just have to make things right. i know she’s got nothing left to say, but i should call anyways. just then, nate comes outside. “yo matt are you okay?” i didn’t call her that night, and i didn’t fix things.

-

time skip

-

i roll my eyes when i walk into my house and hear her voice. she’s laughing about something. i hate that stupid laugh. what could possibly be so funny? i scoff as i walk by. as i pass nicks room, it takes me a few moments to register she’s not laughing, she’s crying.

just then, i get a text.

nick

y/n is having serious family problems right now, be nice when you get home pls!

i’m not home right now, but she needed a place to stay.

me

👍

i stand outside nicks door for a moment before turning to the kitchen. i grab my tub of mint chip ice cream and a bag of blue takis. those were our favorite snacks when we were kids i quietly walk up to nicks door and knock lightly. she let out a broken “come in” i opened up the door with a soft smile and i hand her the snacks i grabbed

we didn’t speak to each other at all, but we didn’t need to. she took the snacks and scooted over on the bed, signaling me to sit down. i sat down and engulfed her in a hug. she pressed her head against my chest and began sobbing.

i held her in my arms all night. we didn’t talk, and she just cried. i never wanted to let go of her and expose her to whatever else could happen to her. i didn’t need to ask her what happened, and she didn’t need to ask me why i was letting her do this. eventually, we fell asleep. i held her like if i let go she would disappear.

part 2 tmr! ❤️

[rancidpancakebatter]

Love n' Locs | {P.P.}

Pairings: MCU!Peter Parker x Black!Female!Reader

Summary: Peter, your love, helps you with your hair. (Takes place after nwh)

Word Count: 4.4k words

Content Warnings: Minors DNI Smut (female receiving), shower sex, multiple orgasms, swearing, May's death is mentioned briefly but nothing graphic, tooth-rotting fluff that made me cry while writing it

( Masterlist )

A/N: HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH!!! I PROMISE TO BE AS INSUFFERABLE AS POSSIBLE!!! (and also to not write angsty black!reader fics during this time because we have suffered enough. Only Joy <3 )

You had the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world. He was so lovely and entirely devoted. He brought you flowers. He knew your favourite foods. He gave you hoodies and kisses when you were down. He held you close and listened intently. He encouraged you to chase your dreams and held your hand when you got scared.

You had never known love like this before. The kind that steals your breath every day. But that was just who Peter was. You would never get enough of him- but what was even more amazing, you know he feels the same.

He was a white boy, and you loved to tease him about his previous love interests. He always got a rosy blush when you called him a “snow bunny,” but he never got offended, recognising that you were only joking. He would sometimes call you his “melanated queen,” but only when making fun of people who did so sincerely.

He was refreshing in that sense. You had been around more than enough “woke” people who weirdly worshipped your blackness, but not Peter. He celebrated it; he celebrated you. 

Race wasn’t something that came up often between you. He would listen to your frustrations as they arose, but he never commented on the fact that you were black.

He never fetishized or tip-toed around you. Peter was a genuine ally, never feeling like he had to make a show of how much he believed your life mattered. He just supported and only acted when you asked him to. He may have a hero complex, but he didn’t suffer from the white saviour complex, and for that, you were grateful.

You woke up this morning feeling almost overwhelmed by that gratitude. Peter was asleep, his curls strewn about the pillow. You had convinced him to grow them out. You promised to play around all day with his hair, finding the right products and creams to use. He agreed because he loves it when you play with his hair.

His lips were slightly parted, plush and pink. A smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose glows in the early morning sun. They were very subtle, almost imperceptible unless you got the opportunity to track them down, inches from his face. You were happy to say you got that opportunity often.

Basked in light and in your arms is where he belonged. Not on the streets, fighting crime. He deserved to rest. He was exhausted last night. His eyes were half closed as he clambered out of his suit, tripping on the feet. He only agreed to a shower when you offered to join. You would have joined regardless, but there was no way in hell this man was climbing in your sheets covered in soot.

“I can feel you staring.” A small smirk pulled at his lips though his eyes remained closed.

You didn’t respond with words, instead deciding to pepper his sweet face with kisses. You felt his smile grow as you went, until it fell into a full-on laugh.

You swear his laughter had a direct line to your heart, the sound filled you, and your heart swelled to adjust. His hands found purchase on your hips and rolled you over until he was on his back and slotted between your thighs. His favourite place to be.

“You’re just so nice to look at, so handsome,” You tease.

You continue in your ministrations, your lips painting a path from his jaw to his cheek, his eyelids and his brows, up his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. All while cradling his face. Holding him like he was your most precious possession. Something deserving of the Louvre or the Tate. You poured out your love, letting it seep into his soft, golden skin.

While Peter was a giver, he struggled to receive. You took any opportunity to remind him how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him. You felt his deft fingers worm their way under your sleepshirt, where they fronted an attack.

“Pete!-”

You collapsed against his chest as your body racked with giggles. He flipped you around again, and you could do nothing as he continued to tickle you.

“Pe-Pete, no!”

His hands stilled but held you firmly. You slowed your breathing and finally opened your eyes. They were met with glowing stars, burning bright and filled with adoration. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, feeling flustered by his unabashed gaze.

He only chuckles as he pulls you up to sit in his lap. His hands move to your back, painting soothing circles across your skin. You melt into the touch. You get hit with another wave of love, feeling it pulse against your ribcage. You begin leaving kisses across his neck, trailing across his collarbones. Peter takes the time to work his hands up your sides, massaging the muscle as he goes. You truly are putty in this man’s hands.

You find yourself on the other side of his neck, releasing a sweet sigh as his hands worked over your shoulders. His hands move to your neck, focusing on any knot he finds until they’re all gone.

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer and encouraging him to keep going. He removes your bonnet, setting it to the side, and massages your scalp. This was heaven. You moan at the feeling, and Peter chuckles.

“I really should be doing this for you.” Your words are muffled and slurred, but you know Peter hears them.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “it’s black history month.”

You both fall into a fit of laughter. Eventually, his hands disappear from your scalp, reappearing under your chin. You let it guild you, bringing you face-to-face with him. His smile is lazy and warm.

“Do I get any real kisses this morning?” You tilt your head to the side and pretend to ponder it. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, though, with your wide smile- you fool no one. “I guess you’ve earned it.”

Kissing Peter was one of your favourite pastimes. In a perfect world, your lips would only feel his skin. Always attached in some way. But these kisses were your favourite. The kind where your smiles get in the way. The slow and steady kind, where there’s all the passion but none of the rush. You simply get to be, enjoy, and love. His are soft and sure.

You feel safe here in his hands, treasured. Your arms rest lazily around his neck, your nails tracing shapes on his back. Peter tilts his head, deepening the kiss. His tongue swipes at your lips, and you don’t hesitate to part them. It dances with yours and makes you dizzy. You get lost in it for a moment before you pull away. Peter whines, and you can’t help but laugh at his little pout.

“Sorry, bub, I got a full day ahead of me, and I need to get started.” He squeezes your waist, and you jump as your nerves alight, sending those familiar giggles to your brain.

“But it’s your day off,” he says through his frown. “And mine…we get the whole day together.”

You lay a quick kiss on his jutted lip, “Yeah, but it’s wash day. And I wanna braid it out. That’s gonna take all day.”

Peter hangs his head in defeat for a moment before it shoots back up. He beams, sitting up straighter as he presents his idea. “I could help.”

Scepticism falls on your brow, “You wanna help…?”

He looks at you as if you’ve issued a challenge. “What? You don’t think I can?”

You laugh as you link your hands behind his neck. “I think you can; I just don’t think you understand the commitment you’re making. It takes me upwards of nine hours to do my hair.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and resting his chin on your chest. Your hands run through his hair as he gazes up at you like you hung every star in the night sky. “Well, I’ll be here, and you’ll be here, so I might as well help.”

You couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Peter, when you said you’d help, I didn’t think you meant like this.”

You were currently in the shower with your boyfriend pressed against you. His hands trailed up and down your stomach as he pressed sweet kisses down your neck. You felt his lips tug at the side, a smirk you knew well.

“Don’t worry about me. You can wash your hair, just pretend I’m not even here.” His lips find the spot that makes you shudder. He holds you closer, knowing your legs weaken when he does that.

“That’s not fair; you’re very distracting,” you retort as your hand reaches up to tangle in his hair.

Pete’s hands find your hips and give them a firm squeeze. He knew you loved it when he showed off how strong he was. He was playing you like a fiddle, but you couldn’t bother to be mad.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Peter knew the answer. He caught the way your pulse quickened when he suggested you shower together. He heard your breath hitch when he took off his pants. He could smell you even as he lathered you with soap. You just liked to tease; you liked to act tough. But your bravado quickly crumbled for him. And he loved that. That your gentleness, your piety, was only for him.

“No”

It left your mouth in a puff of air. So soft and sweet, whispered with the water. Peter wasted no time dipping a hand into your slit. His finger probed around, collecting your slick and teasing you further. His foot found yours and kicked it, spreading you apart farther. You moaned softly as he licked up the collum of your throat.

“All this for me?” He rubbed small circles on your clit, a small taste of what he could do, and you both knew it.

“It’s just the shower.” His other hand reached up, gripping you by the jaw and twisting your face towards him.

“I don’t think it is”

He picked up the pace and swallowed your moans. His pillowy soft lips devour you hungrily, and you can feel his hard-on in the crest of your ass. He rips away from your lips, and his hand goes to your boobs, pinching and pulling on your nipples. He enters you with one of his thick digits. He shows no mercy as he thrusts it into you, finding your g-spot in a matter of seconds. Peter knew your body well and loved reminding you of that.

He adds another finger, and your body involuntarily jerks, chasing Peter in all directions. He hisses as you grind against him. Your toes are curling, and the steam makes it hard to catch your breath. All too soon, he removes himself. You whine as your high is stolen from you.

He waits until your eyes are on him before he brings his fingers to his mouth. He hallows his cheeks around them before pulling them out with a soft pop and a moan. You watch with wide eyes as he runs his tongue across them, collecting every drop of your essence.

“You taste so good, baby.” 

He presses his praise into your skin- down your neck and across your shoulders. He continues down a path, following the curve of your spine. He takes quite the bite out of your ass, causing you to yelp, before continuing to nibble on your thighs.

Your hand tries to grip the wall and provide you with balance, just his gentle touches making you shake with anticipation. He notices this and throws your legs over his shoulders, your back pressed gently against the cold tile.

“You okay, baby?” You try to slow your breathing, nails scraping against his scalp, the wet curls wrapping around your fingers.

“Yeah, I'm good.” Peter loved communication; it was important to him. Though often, he would steal your ability to string anything coherent together.

“Good, 'cause I haven’t had breakfast, and I’m hungry." He sent you a wink before disappearing between your thighs.

You let out a cry as he suckles your clit. His grip on your thighs is bruising as he spreads them farther apart, whipping his head furiously between them. You’re seeing stars.

This is a stark difference from the sweet kisses you shared this morning. This was need, hunger, a carnal desire. He was chasing your high as much as you were. He moved his tongue inside you, the pink muscle scraping against your walls. You ground your hips down, and you both moaned.

You, because your clit bumped his nose, a jolt through your nerves that brought you closer and closer to your peak. And Peter, because he loves when you get off to him like this. He loves that he gets to see you like this, on the brink of desperation and lost in desire. He loves that he can make you this way. That he’s the only one who can.

Eating you out is Peter’s favourite pastime. In a perfect world, he would spend every moment between your thighs, drinking from the fountain of you, never satiated.

He grinds his face into you, loving how you flutter around his tongue. He loved every way your body told him you loved this. It was like picking up a new language. He knew the meaning of every twitch, sound, and pulse. He was fluent in you.

He felt the way your thighs were shaking and knew you were right there, you just needed a little push, and he was happy to provide. He cages your leg against his shoulder as he reaches around and presses firmly against your clit.

“Fuck! Pete!”

You cry his name, and he thinks it’s his favourite sound. It spurs him on further. He only wants you to respond like that. He moves his thumb, spelling his name as if your brain would subconsciously pick up on it, and you would say it again. He’s fucking you with his mouth and marking you as his.

Your orgasm crashes through you, a broken moan ripping from your chest, completely overwhelmed by pleasure. Peter continues to fuck you through it, drawing it out for as long as he can. Wanting everything you had to give him. He really was hungry.

Your body convulses, your grip on his curls strong as you try to pull him away. This doesn’t dissuade Peter by any means. He knows you can cum again; he needs you to cum again.

Your pulling on his hair inadvertently brings him closer, and he revels in it. His mouth trades places with his fingers, giving your clit a small break from his brutal beating.

However, you don’t recognise it as a “break”. Your sensitivity sends your brain into overdrive, or underdrive- you weren’t sure. All thoughts were half-baked, and your muscles were moving of their own accord. You were glad Peter was there to hold you because there was no way you would have been able to support yourself.

“Pe-Peter! I-unghhh”

Peter had to fight his grin, knowing that he rendered your brain useless, only able to think of him and your high. There was truly no more beautiful sight. Your jaw slacked, as a cacophony of lewd sounds fell from your open lips. Your brows furrowed as you chase your peak. Your unfocused eyes, half-lidded, looking down, searching for him. Your body quaking around him. He wished he could capture this moment on camera, encapsulate this moment forever.

You pushed your hips forward in a final thrust, taking his fingers deeper and his unholy tongue pressing harder against your sensitive bud. This time you scream, nearly collapsing over. Peter brings a hand to your throat, keeping you upright while he drinks from your fountain.

He gently removes his fingers from your core, and you whine slightly, bringing a spirited smile to his face. He wrapped your legs around his waist, admiring your completely blissed-out face. You were so beautiful. In any way, but especially this way.

You rested your head in the crook of his neck, not caring that you were panting on your auditorily sensitive, always-way-too-warm, boyfriend. To be fair, he didn’t care either. He would suffer through anything to hold you like this. And it was deserved. He did kinda render you useless.

He laid a kiss to your temple and you hummed, cuddling into him more. “Alright, coach me through the washing.”

He listened intently as you told him how much product to use and where to massage it in. He was careful to try and keep all the shampoo on your scalp, heeding your warnings of drying out your curls. He was so tender and sweet. He was much gentler with your hair than you ever were.

He peppered you with kisses as he coaxed you under the shower head. Despite your recovery and your ability to stand once again, Peter refused to let you down. Keeping you wrapped around him like a koala or sloth. You couldn’t say you minded all that much.

Peter was most excited to brush your hair. He had never really gotten to do that, as you only ever did it in the shower. He felt proud that you trusted him to do it now. It felt intimate, special.

Sometimes he would get to brush May’s hair. It was long and beautiful, and when he was younger, she would let him if he asked. He would have her sit on the floor as he stood tall, bending at the knees to accommodate his short little arms. He missed those moments with her. He missed her. But in you, he found new things to miss, and he was forever grateful for that.

He continues to run the comb through your hair, even when the knots were gone, because he loved how you melted into him. You were practically purring, and it felt nice to take care of you for a change.

He couldn’t count how many times you had patched him up, made him food because he had forgotten to eat, checked up on him, or helped him through an existential crisis. You were always there for him, his rock. He would be lost without you.

The water started to get cold, so you begrudgingly left, feeling a little betrayed by your water heater for ruining such a wonderful moment. Peter only set you down then, but ordered you to stay on the bathmat. You chuckled as you watched him run, butt-ass naked, through the hall. When he returned, he held a few towels and worn shirts in his hand. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his smile. It will always make your heart stutter.

“Arms up,” He directs and you follow.

He wraps a towel around you, and you can’t stop the satisfied sigh that leaves your mouth. It was warm and fluffy, almost enough to put you to sleep. Once he’s secured it around you, he gently moves your arms back to your sides and places a sacrosanct kiss on your lips. Your only complaint was that it was too short; your body naturally follows him as he pulls away.

He chuckles, “Steady sailor. We still got a lot of work to do. Can’t get distracted now.”

You lovingly swat at him, and he rewards you with a laugh, one that squishes his eyes and crinkles his nose. It takes everything in you not to kiss him silly. But it’s not your fault; he knows better than to look at you like that.

“I brought you these to choose from. I remember you telling me cotton is better for your hair. So, here’s three of my shirts to choose from, and whatever you don’t pick, we get to wear.”

You can’t help but beam at him. You felt absolutely spoiled. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve such royal treatment. Usually, this kind of behaviour was reserved for birthdays and other such occasions. Not a Thursday afternoon.

But you relished in it anyway, telling him which shirt you wanted to wear and which one you wanted to use. He kissed you on the nose as he passed them both to you.

You explain every step you take as you do them, even coaching Pete through some parts as you let him try it. Peter is amazed by all the products and smells. He’s a little embarrassed as he struggles through some steps; you work with such grace and ease. You explain that the steps are a little different because you’re styling your hair today, instead of enhancing your natural curls. Peter tries his best to commit everything to memory.

While you’re blowing out your hair, Peter leaves to make breakfast. You don’t really need his help for it, and honestly, the sound of the fan bouncing around the tiled walls was a bit too grating for him. As he whips up your favourite breakfast meal, he scrolls through google images, trying to get a better idea of what you were wanting to do.

He sees a lot of looks he thinks you would like, but one sticks out the most. He hadn’t really seen it before, but he thinks you would look absolutely stunning. He’s watching a tutorial when you enter the kitchen. He’s so engrossed in the video you startle him as you wrap your arms around him.

His spidey senses work differently around you, and that’s something he’s still figuring out. His best guess is it doesn’t warn him about you because there’s not a single bone in his body that sees you as a threat. You’re the only person since he was fourteen who could sneak up on him. You don’t often do it on purpose, either. And he thinks his body knows that too.

Usually, his “tingle” lays dormant unless there’s a general danger, but now it’s…evolved in a way. If he focuses, he can almost feel you. He can just think of you, and his body will tell him if you’re distressed and where you are. His instincts lead him like a compass- to you, his true north.

There have been more than a few times he rushed home to check on you just to see that you’ve dropped something or were watching a scary movie by yourself...again. He loved it, though. He had never felt so close to anyone before. He loved that there were no defences between you.

“Whatcha watchin'?”

Pete pauses the video before he turns in your arms. 

“Have you heard of butterfly locs?” You grin, delightfully surprised. 

"Yes, I have,” you say as you peck him on the nose. “Why?”

“Well, it’s your hair, and you can do whatever you want. And I’ll help no matter what you decide. But I think you would look absolutely gorgeous in them. And you can do fun colours or add funky charms. But also, I know you said you were planning on the box braids, and I’m unsure how easy it would be to switch up the plan like that.”

God, could you love this man anymore? 

“It’s actually really easy. I still have to make a Sally’s run; I haven’t bought any hair yet. Do you wanna come with?” Peter nods his head fervently, and you can’t help but giggle at his excitement. 

Pete is in awe of the selection here. He had no idea there were so many options. He excitedly asks questions, and you’re happy to answer all of them to the best of your understanding. He happily holds everything you pass him and even convince him to get some products for himself, like a hair mask and some mousse. 

When you get home, Peter shows you the videos he watched and his strategy. He helps you section your hair and tries not to complain about the sticky gel too much. With his help, it doesn’t take nearly as long. You play around with the length and stylings, and once finished you’re very happy with it.

Peter was right; you look fine as hell. You check yourself out in the mirror and laugh when you catch Peter watching you from his seat on the bed through the reflection. He’s completely in his own world, his eyes ooze raw adulation, and you can’t help but feel a little flustered.

You walk over, slotting yourself between his legs. His hands come to rest on your hips, something he doesn’t even think to do. It’s just so natural. It’s where his hands belong.

“Do you like it?”

His expression never falters, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“Did you know that I am so in love with you? Like do you know? Because I am. So, so, very in love with you.”

You feel your cheeks warm, “Yes, I know.”

His dopey smile stretches, “I don’t think you do. But I’ll be sure to tell you until you’re sick of hearing it.”

Your heart is doing summersaults, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

He places a kiss to your sternum, “Well, I’ll do my very best.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled forward. You land directly on Pete, and if you weren’t aware of all his body was capable of, you might have worried about hurting him. Instead, you giggle at his antics and let him hold you tight.

Your new locs fall around his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so lucky. Here, hidden behind the curtain of your hair, it’s just you and him. You lay there for a while like that, just drinking the other in. It’s the perfect respite from all the chaos in the world. Your hearts beating together, your love flowing between you.

“I got you something,” Peter whispers. 

There’s no need for anything louder in this proximity. “What?”

His hand leaves your waist, and you hear a familiar thwip, then the crinkling of a bag. 

Peter opens his palm to you, and a small gasp leaves your lips. There rested a little charm; hung on a small ring. You picked it up and admired how it twinkled in the evening sun. A little spider, from your man. You sat up, looking in the mirror as you strung it through a loc. 

“Petey, it’s perfect!”

“Not as perfect as you.”

Taglist: @barbecuetiddy, @heejinw0rld, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @secretaccountlol, @scorpiolystoned, @thatblackravenclaw, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: Donna Floyd

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. There has been an emergency and you have been called into the line of fire. How will the Fam react?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, creepy perv man, gunshots, violence, killing

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 8: Pizza Joe's

Once again, days passed without seeing Jason. Embarrassment flared inside me at the thought of our last interaction. I wasn’t one that enjoyed crying in front of people. And I hadn’t just cried, I had wailed, and choked, with spit and most likely snot leaking from my face. It wasn’t a cute poetic actress single tear sniffle. It was ugly and loud. Whatever. It’s not like I want a relationship. I’ve worked hard to obtain my peace. I don’t want a man to come in and disrupt the life I’ve worked hard to build. 

I grabbed gauze packets and shoved them into my chart, trying to distract my thoughts. I had completely run through them when Duke came in with several lacerations and broken ribs from the Black Mask. I shivered when Duke told me the details. The mob boss was sadistic and cruel, Duke had barely gotten away. I couldn’t meet Duke’s eyes after that. I’ve healed the Black Mask countless times. Guilt gnawed at my bones. Duke was injured because I kept that monster alive. And how many others? That line of delightful thinking always leads me straight into a downward spiral. Quickly, I grabbed more 16 gages and refilled those as well. 

This past week has been relentlessly busy. It felt like it was a full moon every night with the amount of insanity that happened. Even for Gotham. It felt like every one of Gotham’s plentiful villains had some sort of scheme, disastrous plan, or some way to ‘conquer the world.’ It made both my jobs a living hell. 

I was a walking zombie. I would sleep at my workstation and be woken up by the Batmobile screeching in with more injuries that needed to be healed. Bruce was almost always back and forth anywhere from 4-10 times a night. It sometimes felt like he was more reckless with me around. Throwing himself into danger more than he did in the beginning. Or maybe I was just overthinking it. 

A chime on my phone interrupted my thoughts. 

[Bruce has seven gunshot wounds. He isn’t stable enough to travel. We are on 717 Street behind Pizza Joe's. Be careful the shoot-out is still happening.]

The bright screen burned my tired eyes. The second the words sank in I grabbed the emergency kit and my keys and ran. I never treated them outside of the Batcave. They had always come to me. It must be bad. 

I drove like a maniac and got there in record time. 8 minutes. 8 minutes of Bruce bleeding out. 8 minutes of more shooting and how many more injuries. A fucking lot can happen in just 8 minutes. Panic rose in my chest, but I swallowed it down. Countless gunshots popped around me, lucky enough for me, none were aiming for my car. 

I got out quickly, grabbed my gear, and ran toward the back of the shittiest pizza in Gotham. The blue on Dick’s suit stood out like a beacon as he motioned me over. My black scrubs and dark zip-up hoody instantly got soaked through with rain. I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the rain or gunshots that rang out around me like popcorn kernels on the stove. I cared about the physical state of Bruce Wayne. 

It was bad. With the rain puddle around him, it was hard to determine the amount of blood loss. I got to work instantly. I threw my bag to Dick and put my hands on Bruce. 

“I need you to stuff his wounds with gauze. I’m going to replenish his blood and then I need you to take the gauze out one by one, so when I heal him they aren’t inside him. Understand?” I asked as I let my powers take over. 

“I understand,” Dick said and got to work just as quickly as I did. That was before more shots rang out. Hitting the brick wall just above my head. 

“Fuck!” Dick yelled, grabbing his batoons. “They are closer now!”

I felt my body start to shake as I forced it to heal Bruce faster, “Who the fuck is ‘they?’’

“Black Mask’s men. They are shooting to kill,” Dick said, standing up and blocking me and Bruce from the new onset of bullets.

“Get down or I’ll have to heal you both!” I hissed at him. 

“I need to get them away from you guys,” and without a second word, Dick ran toward the bullets. 

“Dick! Don’t–” I knew he couldn’t hear my begging screams. My best bet was to heal Bruce as fast as possible, we both help Dick, and escape via my shitty car. 

I was close too. Bruce’s blood was replenished, and five out of his seven gunshot wounds were closed Albiet the work was sloppy, but he would live. 

That was before I felt the unmistakable coolness against the back of my head. My blood ran cold, and I pushed harder to heal Bruce faster. 

“Stop whatever it is you’re doing or I’m going to blow your brains out,” a man said. His voice was oddly distorted. 

I didn’t listen. I kept healing Bruce. Any minute now. Please. Please. He pressed the gun parallel to my cheek and fired. It burned hot against my face. I tasted metal and gunpowder. My ear was ringing louder than church bells. Hesitantly, I raised my hands. 

“That’s it. Be a good bitch and stand up,” He said, digging the barrel harder into the back of my skull. Fear spiked inside me. I knew he would recognize me, but what choice did I have? 

Slowly, I stood. 

“Turn around,” the brute ordered. 

Slowly, I turned. 

A low, mocking laugh escaped from his skull mask. “My, my. Little Miss Y/f/n? Everyone was wondering where you had run off to! Turns out your the Bats personal whore!” I saw his eyes trail me up and down. Disgusting oily unease filled inside me. “You have a woman’s body now.”

Anger surged, making my blood feel like it was boiling. I slowly unzipped my hoody. The fool's eyes were transfixed on the sight. So much so that he didn’t realize that I was grabbing my medical scissors from my back pocket. 

In one fluid motion, I grabbed the scissors, and the next I had them stabbed into Black Mask’s throat. Before he could react I withdrew the scissors, resulting in blood being sprayed across my body and face. 

The Black Mask didn’t seem to care about his spurting neck. He reached out and gripped my throat, hard. He ruthlessly squeezed until it felt like my lungs would pop and my eyes would pop out of their sockets. Weakly, I tried to kick and scratch him. He merely laughed in my face, spraying more blood all over me. 

From his pocket, he grabbed a knife. “You know how long I’ve wanted to play with you? Your father would never let me. But Daddy isn’t here, is he?” With a practiced grace, he sliced my forearm open. Earning a weak hissing breath of pain. 

He trailed the knife over my chest, slowly adding more and more pressure. 

I tried screaming for Dick, but he was too far away fighting with everything he had. Bruce was still unconscious. 

I reached for this throat, trying to scratch him. I dug my index finger into his stab wound making him cry out in pain and anger and release the pressure he held against my neck. Air was a sweet joy in my lungs. 

Pain flashed across my head as the Black Mask whipped me with the back of his gun. He pushed the gun into my mouth, and for the second time that night, I tasted gunpowder. 

A loud shot rang out. Two shots. Three. Four. Five. 

And the pressure was off me. The Black Mask fell backward. Taking his gun with him. Panicked I looked around for the source. 

There, standing above Bruce, was the Red Hood. The rain was tinking against the metal. His chest heaved harshly up and down. And in his hands, he held two smoking guns. His expression was carved in a permanent scowl, but everything about him radiated vengeance. 

The Black Mask groaned in pain. Without taking his eyes off me Jason shot until both magazines ran out. 

I was frozen in place. Jason walked over Bruce’s unconscious body toward me. 

“Why the fuck are you here?” He growled, taking me into his arms.

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno@killxz@morpheus-girl@redhood414@bungunz@conicoroahre@greenyofthegreens@taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo @eccentricarabella-blog @princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath @whirlwind2005 @the-lights-are-loud @00hellohello00 @tfygcdy @theblindhag @murkyponds @midnightecko @crookedmakerfury @cosmicqueenieb @deans-spinster-witch

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: sorry for the late update guys, I wasn't feeling very confident in myself or my writing. I will try to update more frequently! thank you all for your support it means so much.

Hashbrown Cam!

[wingedhallows]

i got my eye on you - three; marauders

pairing: marauders (sirius black x reader) | 3.3k words plot: albus reaches out to you to keep the marauders save, to not have them die, so you join them in their seventh year. authors note: I hope you're as happy with this chapter as i am , love u lots :) leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist :)

navigation | part one ; part two ; part three

“Sirius, Y/N!” You pulled apart as Lily stumbled onto the balcony, face distraught.

You stepped in front of Sirius, hands still intertwined.

“It’s Remus.”

Your feet worked without your will as the two of you followed Lily inside. The party was still going on full blast, people were singing, drinking, having fun.

But you sobered up quite fast at the thought of Remus being hurt.

You pushed through the mass of people with Sirius in hand. Your heart beat at an abnormal speed.

Lily passed through the portrait and you followed suit. She turned a corner and held her hand out to show you the damage.

There sat Remus on the ground, sobbing.

You stared at the man, the crying mess. “He gets sentimental when drunk.” Sirius whispered in your ear and you heaved a sigh. You had to be fucking kidding.

“I can’t catch a break with you lot, can I?” You let go of Sirius’ hand which he audibly frowned upon and you kneeled in front of the weeping individual. Lily swayed herself, hands reaching for the railing behind her.

“Remus, honey?” His head lifted and he drunkenly threw his arms around your neck, almost pushing you to the ground.

“Oh, Y/N. My dear Y/N, how lovey to swee ya’” He mumbled. 

He brushed his fingers through your hair as more tears escaped him, some unintelligible complaints left his mouth before you stood up again, which he wailed loudly about.

“Sirius, go get James.” He nodded with a stupid grin on his face and took off. Lily eyed you with squinted eyes, her legs trying to keep her drunken form up right. You lit a cigarette and crouched down again. 

Remus eyed the cigarette and sobbed a broken. “Pwetty please.” You shook your head and held the stick away from him.

“Only if you stop crying, then off to bed, okay?” He eyed you and wiped the tears off his face with a big sniff. He took a deep breath and held his hand out.

“Stopped.” He said and you pushed the cigarette between his fingers and he silently smoked his cigarette.

“Me too!” Lily said, a small smile on her face as she held her hand out. You rolled your eyes.

“You don’t even smoke.” She only frowned at you and you heaved another big sigh, what big fucking children.

“Fine, fuck.” You cursed and lit her another cigarette.

With a big smile she took the stick and went in for a kiss, her painted lips connected somewhere between your cheek and your hair as she threw a “Thank u so so much” at you.

You made a mental note to have Suki get you more than one pack of cigarettes at a time, you damn well needed it. 

Sirius made his way back to the three of you with James in tow. The man in question wasn’t as drunk as his friends as he looked at you.

“James, thank fuck. Please get Remus to bed, take Sirius with you.”

“I brought him.” Sirius mumbled next to you as he took your hand in his, a stupid smile on his face.

“Thank you, love.” You said with a sweet smile.

James chuckled and nodded at you. “What a party.” He laughed as he tried to get Remus to stand, he only complained. “M’Not finished.” He eyes the half done cigarette in his hand and left him. You lit yourself a cigarette.

“Want one too?” James shrugged and lit himself one as well. “Might as well.” So you stood there, with two shit faced drunk kids, a crying mess and James, smoking a fag. What a wonderful evening. You had to chuckle as Sirius went for your cigarette, you let him. His hand rested on your waist and his face on your shoulder.

“You look sweet, you two.” James said, blowing some smoke.

“Thanks.” Sirius answered and took another drag.

“Off now.” You said to Remus who scrambled to his feet with Lily’s help. You turned to Sirius, a hand on his cheek.

“Be good and help James.” He nodded and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “Yup.” He said and followed suit.

The castle was quiet, much a contrast to last night. In your bag you had stashed a few bottles of your own creation. A hangover potion, mixed and brewed by yourself, it had proven useful during your school days.

The great hall was fairly quiet, a lot of hungover students graced the benches. With quick steps you made your way to the Gryffindor table. You reached the desired bunch and greeted them with a simple.

“Good morning.” Sirius frowned and made space for you. “Morning, love.” The others didn’t look better so you placed your bag in your lap. “Here you go.” You placed a bottle in front of each of them.

“What’s this?” Lily spoke quietly, shielding her eyes from any kind of light. “Hangover cure, drink it.” You said and in an instant they grabbed for the bottle. James downed it in one go, so did Sirius.

“Ow, this tastes like goblin piss.” Sirius complained. “It’ll help tough, so say thank you.” 

He gave you a weak smile and muttered quietly. “Thank you, love.” 

“I’ll catch you for lunch, I have something to do.” You said and stuffed another biscuit in your mouth. Sirius caught your hand before you could leave. You turned and looked at him.

“Where’re you going?” You squeezed his hand and gave him a smile. “I’m visiting Suki, I have some things to sort out at home.” He nodded and gave you a small smile.

“It works, huh?” You pointed at the bottle and he heaved a chuckle. “Nothing dangerous, I promise.” He nodded and gave your hand another squeeze.

You bent down to place a quick peck on his cheek before you left.

“Suki, I’m home.” You yelled as you closed the front door behind you. The cabinet was shiny and your pictures polished. You noticed that the picture of your graduation was put in a different frame.

“Miss! Suki is indescribably happy to see Miss home, come come.” She waved her tiny hands at you as she noticed you eyeing the frame.

“Oh, Suki is so sorry. It fell while Suki was cleaning. Suki has punished herself by shutting her fingers in the cabinet and changing the frame right after, Suki is so sorry, Miss.” She cried out and you gasped at her.

 “Suki!” You scolded her.

“Why would you shut your fingers in the cabinet?” You took her hands in yours.

“I told you not to punish yourself, it was an accident!” She pulled her hand out of yours. “But Suki broke Miss’ favorite picture frame. Suki had to.” You frowned and pushed past her.

“We talked about this many times, Suki. I do not wish for you to hurt yourself.” She didn’t answer and followed you into the kitchen.

“More letters arrived, Miss.” Suki said as a few letters dropped on the kitchen table. You eyed the letters. 

Your parents tried to get a hold of you, every now and then.

“Burn them, please.”

Suki didn’t question your choice and the letters went up in flames as she picked them up. The ringing of the telephone which sat on a small table a few feet away, caught your attention. Suki left the kitchen and you with the phone.

“Oh, Y/N. Finally I’m able to get a hold of you.” You closed your eyes and suppressed a sigh.

“Josephine.” She laughed and continued talking.

“It’s good to hear your voice, I heard you’re on a long time mission, Hogwarts, I heard. You’re finally leaving some work for us, huh?” She laughed and you felt an urge to hang up, like right now.

“Paperwork has been piling up on your desk, I gave it to your cute little house elf, she’s the sweetest isn’t she. I hope you’re well-”I actually have to-”Oh, right, you’re one busy Auror, might even be the busiest. Well I don’t want to hold you up any further, I hope your elf hasn’t misplaced the papers, some do, you see.” You tried to keep your calm.

“Thank you a lot, Josephine.” “Nothing to thank, take care.” You nodded and thanked her once again before you hung up.

Josephine was nice, but she talked and talked without stopping. Her voice didn’t help the problem much either. 

You walked to the cabinet and poured yourself a drink. Suki came back with a stash of papers in hand.

“Miss Josephine left them with Suki.” She said before placing them on the table. You thanked her and got to work. Reports, approvals and other stupid forms to fill out.

“Please take them to Josephine, when you can.” Suki nodded and placed a stick of cigarettes on the table. You smiled at her before grabbing the big pack.

“You know me too well, Suki.”

She smiled at you. “Suki knows Miss best.” You nodded and gave her a quick kiss. You put your shoes on and grabbed your bag, which Suki held out for you.

“Treat yourself, Suki.” She nodded and rubbed your foot in a comforting manner. “Thank you, Miss.” You smiled at her and aparted to Hogwarts.

“There you are.” Sirius greeted you as he made space for you, Peter to your left. “What took you so long?” You gave him a small smile.

“Paperwork.” He nodded and placed some food on your plate. “The potion worked wonders.” Remus said, a content smile on his face.

“You needed it most, I think.” His face fell and his cheeks grew red.

“You were a sobbin’ mess.” James laughed and you joined, quieter though.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of, Remus.” You waved at him, he just sighed. “Sirius and Lily were just as bad.” Lily looked at you, wide eyed. “I was super good.” Sirius threw in.

“What?” Lily questioned.

“First, you were like a lost puppy, Sirius and Lily, you demanded a cigarette while you had said you’d never touch a cancer stick.” She tried to argue but you raised your eyebrow. Sirius put his head on your shoulder.

“At least I didn’t break down crying in the hallway.” You just shook your head. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You followed the kids to class, history of magic, next. Sirius stopped you as the others kept walking. “What is it?” You asked with a small smile on your lips. He scratched the back of his neck and gave you a smile himself.

“I was thinking, the others will go to hogsmeade tonight and I’ve been wondering if, you know-”Stop beating around the bush.” He nodded and blew a breath over your head.

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me in my room to listen to some music, talk, you know, hang out a bit.” You gave him a grin.

“Hang out?” He sighed, his heart threatened to jump out of his ribcage any minute now.

“Only if you like, I’ve got some good music. Led Zepplin, Black Sabbath, Prince, if you’re into that.” You gave him a nod, a big smile on your face.

“Alright, I’ll hang out with you.” He cheered silently, a big smile on his face.

“Go, you’ll miss class.” He frowned. “You’re not coming?” You barked a laugh as you fished your pack out of your pocket. “And sit through a whole lesson of history of magic? No thanks.”  He sighed and took a step towards class.

“I’ll wait on top of the Astronomy Tower, get the others too.” He nodded and took off before he turned around and ran back to you. He pressed a kiss on your cheek and left with a smile on his face. You held your cheek with a big smile on your face.

What a besotted idiot you were.

The weather was fairly nice today, not too many clouds, the birds were chirping. You liked the peace which was broken not much later as the kids made their way up the tower.

“Y/N!” Marlene cheered as she sat herself down, Sirius on your right.

“HOM is so so boring.” James complained, his bag discarded on the ground. Remus and Peter joined him on the ground whereas Lily joined you on the bench.

“You’re going to hogsmeade tonight, I heard.” They didn’t answer but you saw a few nods. “I charmed these.” You held a few bracelets out for them to take.

“Keep them with you at all times.” You paused while you handed them out. “When you smash these, a protective charm is released and the one I have alerts me.” Lily put it on her wrist immediately.

“Have fun and stay safe.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Peter questioned and you shook your head. “Sirius wants to hang out with me.” Sirius buried his head in your shoulder and sighed in embarrassment.

“Hang out? More like snogging with you.” James laughed and Remus jabbed him in the ribs.

“Just cause you can’t get any.” Sirius threw his way, Peter and Marlene broke into laughter.

“How about you keep your mouth shut, Jamsie?” You laughed before lighting yourself a cigarette.

You knocked on Sirius’ door with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand and one of your own vinyls tucked under your arm. The door swung open and Sirius greeted you with a smile.

“Come in.” He said, his shirt tucked in on one side and his tie hung pulled apart from his neck. He took the wine from your hand and placed the cups and the bottle on a small table in the room.

“Sit.” He said as he pushed his hand through his hair.

“I brought one of my own.” You spoke, lips pulled in a smile. He took the vinyl from your hand and eyed it.

“Guns N’ Roses, cool!”

He placed the record next to his record player and sat himself down next to you. His bed was made neatly, just like he had fixed it a few times before you showed up.

“I’ll just.” He got off his bed and placed a Led Zeppelin record on his player and adjusted the volume before he sat down again. He faced you and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

You took one and lit it for the both of you. A few moments went by as you two just looked at each other. 

“Why’re you so nervous?” You joked as you blew some smoke and he had to laugh. He lent back on the headboard of his bed and eyed you.

“You’re, like, insanely pretty, you know.” It was your turn to laugh as you blew some more smoke.

“That never stopped you.” He nodded and took another drag.

“It feels different, just you and me.” You nodded and watched the record turning on the player.

“To have you in my room is, like, a dream come true.” You chuckled, pushing some hair out of your face.

“How many girls have you told that?” His face fell as he watched you.

He leaned forward. His hand was now on yours. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m not like that anymore.” You placed your hand on his.

“Don’t worry, that’s not what I meant.” You paused.

“I mean, you’re very handsome, no wonder you’d have girls over.” 

He shook his head and blew some smoke. “I’ve had one girl in my room before, not that that was anything like right now.” He paused and tried to find the right words.

“People like to paint me as a womanizer, like I have girls over every other day but, I swear I’m not like that.” You patted his cheek with a small smile on your face.

“I believe you, don’t worry.” You lifted yourself off the bed and walked to the small table. You poured some wine into the two cups and handed him a glass.

“Cheers to your false rumors.”

He barked a laugh and clinked his glass with yours.

“Cheers.”

You sat the glass on his bedside table and laid down on his bed. “Tell me about yourself.” You said as he sat his glass down as well.

“What do you want to know?” You paused.

“Tell me your story, Sirius. You know mine, now I get to know yours.” He nodded and laid down next to you, his head propped on his hand.

“My parents are pureblood fanatics, supporters of you-know-who.” He paused. “They always expected us to join the cause, his army and become death eaters. I never wanted that, I rebelled since I was a little boy.” His hand found yours.

“I had a bad fallout with them around last year, they had cursed me and I had to get away. James’ parents took me in. My brother, Regulus, probably became one of them.” You looked at him, eyes soft.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He didn’t answer and continued. “I’m better now, now that I’m away from them.” You nodded and squeezed his hand. “I’m glad.” He smiled and sat up as the vinyl stopped playing.

“Mine now.” You demanded. “Yes ma'am." He laughed and placed your record on the player and layed down again. You now faced the ceiling while he took the same position next to you, much closer than before.

“Horrible parents, we got that in common.” You chuckled as you looked at him.

“That we have.”

He answered as he almost hovered over you. Without much thinking you placed your hands on the sides of his face and pulled him closer. Your lips connected like they were made for each other.

Electricity sparked through you, from head to toe. His hand found your neck and you swam in the kiss like you were made for each other. It felt so right, so good.

He pulled away and looked at you with ecstasy in his eyes. He placed his forehead on yours as he whispered.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to do this.” You chuckled and pulled him for another kiss. His lips worked with yours as you smiled into the kiss.

“Me too.” You answered breathlessly.

You pushed yourself off the bed and took a sip of your wine. You held your hand for him to take.

“Dance with me.”

He took your hand with a grin and put his hands on your waist. Like that you started swaying along with the music.

He leaned down and placed another kiss on your lips.

After dancing you ended up on the ground next to his record player.

“Put this one on.” You placed your finger on a Black Sabbath vinyl, which he had proudly presented to you a few minutes before. With a grin on his face he started the record and watched you bob your head along.

“I think I’ll hang out with you again.” You smiled and he chuckled before pushing his face to yours, his plump lips on yours.

“I think I'd like that.”

You opened your pack of cigarettes and handed him one, his soft eyes on yours.

“I like you a lot, Y/N.”

You nodded and blew some smoke, your eyes on the ever turning record.

“I like you too.”

( taglist: @navs-bhat ; @amethyistheart ; @hermionelove; @madsireds ; @urbansaint ; )

[coltrainbat]

What about chubbish and kind reader getting criticized for dating the world's sexiest man of 2022, she felt upset and cries. Chris felt angry at the people who doesn't know about his girlfriend

Sexist Girl Alive (Curvy!Reader)

A.N/WARNING: Screenshots are obvi fake, TW for fatphobia, slurs, people being mean ☹️ but happy ending, photos arent mine (mwah pinterest)

You smiled at the photo of you two, dressed up before a night out. Chris lips lovingly on your cheeks as you smiled happily. You thought you looked great in your new skin tight dress. Sure it showed a few insecurities but you hoped the black would hide it. Your makeup and hair was all done up and Chris couldn’t stop loving on you all night.

You chuckled at the sweet yet corny caption. He would never live it down - would he? You shook your head, grinning like an idiot. 

Fighting your better instinct, you went through the comments, chewing your thumb nail as you eyes laid on the key words:

“Fat” 

“Cow” 

“She takes up the whole mirror.” 

“It should be illegal for someone like her to wear a dress like that”

“Chris Evans is legally blind if he thinks she’s sexy”

You licked the taste of salty tears that had landed on your upper lip. You took a shaky breathe out as you quickly wiped away the tears that were forming. You felt pathetic, crying about what a bunch of nobody’s had to say about your body. They were jealous, they didn’t know you, they were protective of their internet boyfriend - your mind ran through all the reasons for such vile comments but that still didn’t stop the feeling of sadness and inadequacy that ran through you. 

That was until a wet little nose landed on your cheek, paw pushing the phone away from your face. 

“Would you look at that you found mama- baby what’s wrong?” Chris came in, catching your tear stained cheeks and red, watery eyes.

“The um… instagram you posted you-“ You were hiccuping, anxiously patting Dodgers coat. Too embarrassed to meet his eyes, firmly focused on the Instagram comments that were now blurry. 

“I didn’t post your nudes did I?!” His face full of concern that he had pulled another, much worse, social media blunder. 

“No.” You left out a shaky faux laugh 

“You left comments on and well some people aren’t very nice.” 

“Show me right now.” His jaw went tight and his expression changed to pure disgust and anger.

You handed him the phone, digging your face into Dodgers coat, drying your tears.

Chris’s eyes scanned the comments, jaw tightening as he grounded his teeth. 

“That’s it.” He throw the phone next him, making his way up in a frenzy.

“Chris it’s not a big deal I’m just emotional.”

“It is a fucking big deal.” He raised his voice now, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Chris wasn’t an angry person, rarely getting upset but when you were involved; people better run.

It perplexed him everyday how he thinks he landed the most beautiful woman in the world yet people want to pick apart something as stupid as your weight.

Chris wasn’t blind at all, he was  engrossed and obsessed with every curve, every roll, every stretch mark, every sag. He loved them all.

He couldn’t get enough of grabbing your belly whenever he could, even in public. His hand without fail always travelled from your waist to your pudge, slowly stroking the skin or the fabric - it relaxed him.

Or at home when he’d forgo your ass and instead just grab a roll and jiggle it in his hands, fuck, in his mind it was a bonus to your ass, more skin he could fondle and touch and enjoy, more ways to get a whole body ripple out of you.

Or in the morning before you’d wake up when he’d slowly trace your stretch marks, adoring the way they looked like tiger stripes he felt like they were a natural piece of art on your body.

The way your thighs would wrap tightly around his head, a built in pillow for him to rest on while he traced your body with his hands, following the natural trail created by your curves.

How every hug felt soft and warm as you pressed your plump body up against him, he would get so frustrated that he couldn’t grab every single part of you all at once and just squeeze but a hug was the closest thing.

He didn’t think pure beauty existed until he saw you for the first time, he remembers the way he jaw fell agape slightly and his eyes widened desperate to touch you, desperate to have you in his bed every night. 

You were his now and he wasn’t going to let some bullshit comments take that away from him.

To take the spark and light out of you, to push you down to a place where you felt you were anything but incredible.

You body wasn’t just a wonderland but the home for the soul in which he adored, his kind, intelligent, resilient, witty, outspoken, well read and highly cultured, drop dead gorgeous woman.

The purity of you being so authentically yourself was sacred to him and he was fiercely protective of you for that.

He dreaded the day the comments got too much and he cringed at the thought of you changing any part of the woman he met for some fucking comments. It wouldn’t happen. Not on his watch.

“You can’t just- you can’t fucking say those things about someone! I mean we go back 200 fucking years and there’s your body in fucking oil paintings around castles and here we are now where your accomplishments, your personality, your kindness, your fucking beauty is just completely shitted on.”

“I dealt with it way before I started dating you.” 

“Well it ends now.” He said crouching down in front of you as you sat curled into a ball on the couch. 

His eyes had softened and he was desperate for you to meet his. Wanting to assure you with everything he had that this meant nothing to him. 

“Baby you know I don’t agree with those comments right. Fuck, you remember how much I couldn’t keep my hands off you that night.”

“And every night before.” You snorted 

He gave you a soft smile, happy you were back to making jokes “Exactly.” 

“It’s my fault I should of turned comments off but we shouldn’t have to do that. I’m going to write something and that should be the end of it.” 

“We shouldn’t react that’s what they want.” You said wearily.

“In no world is that going to be said about you and I just sit back and let it happen. Absolutely not. Now come on, let’s get you in the bath.”

You sunk into the steaming water as the smell of lavender and rose filled your nose and muscles you didn’t realise you were tensing finally relaxed. Repeating mantras of self assurance in your head with the distant sound of Chris scurrying around the bedroom and his muffled voice on the phone. 

 Getting out and into your robe after an hour you made your way into the bedroom, finding an exhausted Chris waiting for you on the bed.

“Come here I wanna show you something.” He tapped the spot next to him, inviting you to snuggle against his chest as he got out his phone.

You rolled your eyes, sighing as you got comfortable. 

“Read.” He said sternly, putting his phone into your hand.

You brushed the tears forming in your eyes from happiness. Two things you could always count on with Chris is his ability to make you the happiest person alive and his passion. Combine them and you’re a babbling mess of gratitude and love. Pulling his head down towards you, peppering kisses all over his face and whispering thank you against his lips. 

“Don’t thank me come on now.”

“It was very well said.”

“Yeah well we won’t need this for awhile.” He grabbed his phone from you, throwing it down the bed as he fell off the edge, landing with a small thump.

“Come here sexy, I wanna love on my girl.” You giggled as his beard brushed against your neck as he left wet soppy kisses down your body, untieing your robe to get your unfiltered body in all its glory. 

Chris’s comments created a storm of support, bringing up a conversation of why a woman’s body is ever a topic of concern and the high expectations of male celebrity partners to look a certain way. 

And months down the line he still stood by them. Stating in an interview:

“I don’t think I have ever been more furious than when I read those comments. You know you have this beautiful, intelligent partner and you’re both in this happy little bubble of love and admiration and then these strangers, randoms on the internet just start attacking them for all the things you love about them. It’s like a kick in the gut. I felt so guilty like it was my fault because she didn’t ask to be famous or anything and it’s not easy to give that privacy and anonymity up to follow your heart but she did it anyways and all she was met with was horrible comments. Man, I was so scared that was going to be it for her and I’d never see her again. It just felt like people don’t realise that’s a real person, we are real people and if you wouldn’t say that to someone’s face then why comment it where they can see? She didn’t deserve that at all and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it never happened again. She means the world to me, I’d do anything to protect her. I’m just lucky I get to wake up to her everyday and she’s this strong, resilient person who can’t be knocked down easily.”

[chavahlahdraws]

okay i see you’re obviously a fan of hmc, as you should, but i have a question cause i read the book but people on tiktok pissed me off (as booktok usually does i’m about ready to get rid of it) and a lot of people were saying it’s weird that people love the relationship even though sophie “didn’t really love him” because she was charmed. but i was like no y’all i thought she really loved him?? like she stays with him to have a kid right so???

ok. here is a real way to comment on this yippee! this is actually aweslome because i get to do my little sophie rant.

first of all and most importantly - sophie was never charmed by howl. quite the opposite, really, which i would argue is how she fell for him in the first place.

“Oh, confound that gray-and-scarlet suit!” Sophie said. “I refuse to believe that I was the one that got caught with it!” The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same. She stumped a few steps further. “Anyway,’ she said with great relief, “Howl doesn’t like me!”

this is by far one of my favorite sophie moments in the whole book: and i understand the confusion here for more than one reason (will explain more later!) but clearly she’s using the gray and scarlet suit as a euphemism because she’s in denial. after everything she’s seen of him, sophie refuses to believe that she could fall in love with someone who is so intrinsically flawed—however, as we find at the end of the book—they’re the same in that respect.

howl is by no means a bad person or an evil person in the slightest, and despite herself sophie falls in love with him because of his kindness (like most people do, anyway) here’s some times that they bond …

More about Howl? Sophie thought desperately. I have to blacken his name! Her mind was such a blank that for a second it actually seemed to her that Howl had no faults at all. How stupid! “Well, he’s fickle, careless, selfish, and hysterical,” she said. “Half the time I think he doesn’t care what happens to anyone as long as he’s all right-but then I find out how awfully kind he’s been to someone. Then I think he’s kind just when it suits him-only then I find out he undercharges poor people. I don’t know, Your Majesty. He’s a mess.”

“Behold the new Royal Wizard,” he said. “My name is very black.” Then he began to laugh, much to the surprise of Sophie and Michael. “And what did she do to the Count of Catterack?” he laughed. “I should never have let her near the King!” “I did blacken your name!” Sophie protested. “I know. It was my miscalculation,” Howl said.

Howl pointed a shaky hand up toward the canopy of his bed. “That’s why I love spiders. ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try, again.’ I keep trying,” he said with great sadness. “But I brought it on myself by making a bargain some years ago, and I know I shall never be able to love anyone properly now.” The water running out of Howl’s eyes was definitely tears now. Sophie was concerned. “Now, you mustn’t cry-”

“If you come out here alone, bring your stick to test the ground with,” Howl said. “It’s full of springs and bog. And don’t go any further that way.”

As she had feared, the hard black-and-white daylight coming through the broken wall showed her that Howl had not bothered to shave or tidy his hair. His eyes were still red-rimmed and his black sleeves were torn in several places. There was not much to choose between Howl and the scarecrow. Oh, dear! Sophie thought. He must love Miss Angorian very much. “I came for Miss Angorian,” she explained. “And I thought if I arranged for your family to visit you, it would keep you quiet for once!” Howl said disgustedly. “But no-”

Howl rose up on his hands and knees with a scramble. “I can’t stay,” he said. “I’ve got to rescue that fool Sophie.” “I’m here!” Sophie said, shaking his shoulder. “But so is Miss Angorian! Get up and do something about her! Quickly!”

Howl looked a little sad, but he said, “We were both hoping you would. Neither of us wanted to end up like the Witch and Miss Angorian. Would you call your hair ginger?” “Red gold,” Sophie said. Not much had changed about Howl that she could see, now he had his heart back, except maybe that his eyes seemed a deeper color-more like eyes and less like glass marbles. “Unlike some people’s,” she said, “it’s natural.” “I’ve never seen why people put such a value on things being natural,” Howl said, and Sophie knew then that he was scarcely changed at all.

and finally…

“Sophie,” said Martha, “the spell’s off you! Did you hear?” But Sophie and Howl were holding one another’s hands and smiling and smiling, quite unable to stop. “Don’t bother me now,” said Howl. “I only did it for the money.” “Liar!” said Sophie.

howl and sophie are meant for each other! they compliment each other immensely, and it’s difficult to describe how well they do so concisely. what i can pin it down to is this: nothing is secret between them. they operate like best friends as well as they do as lovers; they never let anything slide between them! sophie refuses to take howl’s shit when he crosses a line, (and howl vice cersa, especially when sophie is putting herself down) but they also know each other well enough to truly know their intentions when they say anything. a great example of this in hmc is this whole conversation:

“Why did you pretend to run away? To deceive the Witch?” “Not likely!” Howl yelled. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell my self I’m not doing it!” Oh, dear! Sophie thought, looking round at the swirling grit. He’s being honest! And this is a wind. The last bit of the curse has come true! The hot grit hit her thunderously and Howl’s grip hurt. “Keep running!” Howl bawled. “You’ll get hurt at this speed!” Sophie gasped and made her legs work again. She could see the mountains clearly now and a line of green below that was the flowering bushes. Even though yellow sand kept swirling in the way, the mountains seemed to grow and the green line rushed toward them until it was hedge high. “All my flanks were weak!” Howl shouted. “I was relying on Suliman being alive. Then when all that seemed to be left of him was Percival, I was so scared I had to go out and get drunk. And then you go and play into the Witch’s hands!” “I’m the eldest!” Sophie shrieked. “I’m a failure!” “Garbage!” Howl shouted. “You just never stop to think!” Howl was slowing down. Dust kicked up round them in dense clouds. Sophie only knew the bushes were quite near because she could hear the rush and rattle of the gritty wind in the leaves. They plunged in among them with a crash, still going so fast that Howl had to swerve and drag Sophie in along, skimming run across a lake. “And you’re too nice,” he added, above the lap-lap of the water and the patter of sand on the water-lily leaves. “I was relying on you being too jealous to let that demon near the place.”

sorry for the chunky quote, but this is super super important for our two silly little characters and their dynamic!!

and as for the misconception that sophie was charmed by howl:

mrs. pentsemmon actually hints when she meets sophie that she cursed the grey and scarlet suit herself (out of jealousy, though she’d never say it) and the original passage says that;

The trouble was the blue-and-silver suit seemed to have worked just the same.

Sophie knows for a fact that she felt the same about Howl when he was wearing the blue and silver suit that she did when he wore the enchanted one, and she knew from that that she most definitely wasn’t affected by the charm.

also! a little note about misconceptions in general: the first time i read hmc, the ending scene felt out of nowhere. but that’s how subtly dwj worked in the character development throughout this story! at it’s core hmc is a character based story, and howl and sophie are the most important characters (sophie especially!) but in the first read through i think we all focused on the plot a little more since we didn’t know that was what it was. every read through since, i’ve seen how howl and sophie fall in love in real time! and it’s undeniable then. :3

anyways! relationships written by a woman always win fr. thanks for listening to my rant if you made it this far. and my good friend @thatfoolsophie if you have anything to add, please do to this already crazy long post lmao :3

[messrmoonyy]

It’s the apocalypse, sweetheart

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

Prompt- I did accidentally delete the original prompt but it was along the lines of ‘ reader is Bills niece and has raised her since she was little. When Tess and Joel visit her and Tess are a little flirty and they end up sharing a kiss ‘

A/N- let me first say. I literally re wrote this ENTIRE thing at 3am this morning. Idk what writing god possessed me. But. Here it is. And yk 2010 Tess was truly a blessing and I will take any and all opportunities to write about her. I love these more creative prompts. If anyone has seen Orange is the new black Bill and reader are totally giving Frieda and her dad vibes in this cause that’s what I was watching when I wrote the first half lmao

Warnings- I don’t think there’s any. I can’t even put my usual ‘Tess’ warning cause 2010 Tess is a soft baby lmaoo.

Word count- 8k ( I’m so sorry )

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated &lt;3

You sat in silence, eyes on the screens in front of you, your fingers drumming nervously against your leg. Officers had been in town all day, pulling people from their homes and loading them up onto trucks. They’d been lurking in town since yesterday morning, after putting up the notice that the town would be placed under mandatory evacuation with 24 hours notice. Fencing the town off and pushing evacuation notices through everyone’s door. 

You and your uncle, Bill, had been tucked away in the bunker for the last 3 days anyway. Ever since you’d watch the news on outbreak day, watched as the world had gone to shit over night. 

But thankfully for you, Bill had basically been preparing for something like the current situation his entire life. He’d seemed almost excited by the entire thing at first, finally able to give a big ‘fuck you’ to everyone that had called him stupid for preparing. 

Though mind controlling fungus hadn’t exactly been on his doomsday checklist, he was prepared all the same. And therefore, so were you. Your entire life has practically lead up that exact moment. 

Instead of sending you to the dance class in the town hall as a child, he’d taught you how to assemble a gun in the fastest way possible. Instead of buying you a nail kit for your birthday, he’d gifted you a knife. You’d thought it was pretty awesome, the girls in your math class hadn’t. But fuck them. You could see some of them clambering onto the trucks, crying and holding onto their mothers. 

Dance practice wasn’t looking so practical now was it. 

The sound of footsteps above you halted your fingers, muffled talking of the officers trying to clear the house. Bill turned to you with his finger to his lips and you nodded. You weren’t stupid. The officers walked around, calling out for anyone home until you heard a faint ‘ all clear sir! ‘ through the floorboards. And a smile tugged at your lips. 

“ not today you new world order jack boot fucks “ Bill muttered reloading his gun as way of punctuating his sentence. You turned back to the cameras, watching as they loaded up the last trucks after deeming the house empty. Deeming the town empty. 

“ what fuckin idiots “ Bill exhaled sharply though his nose beside you, some half attempt at a laugh. You watched the cameras as the trucks left town “ where do you think they’re taking them? “ Bill shrugged, pushing buttons on the keyboard to switch which cameras were showing on the screens. 

“ closest city is Boston. But I doubt they’ve managed to lock it down yet. There’s more further out, smaller. Probably already full “ you nodded understanding what it meant for them. 

What was it that you’d overheard an officer say?

Dead people can’t get infected. 

You watched the trucks on the screen, all filing out of town in a trail. Like some fucked up snake weaving through the streets and out through the gates. 

Bill flicked through the cameras once more before standing up, nodding towards your gas mask. 

“ let’s go make sure it’s clear. Mask on.  If there’s any left they might have tear gas. And grab your gun “ you pulled your mask on, letting Bill pull at it to make sure it was secure before he headed for the exit back upstairs. You picked up your gun, double checking it was loaded before following him. 

He’d given it to you on your last birthday. After spending your whole childhood teaching you how to use them, assemble them. He’d decided you deserved one of your own ‘ just in case ‘, something a little more exciting than a knife. 

 “ I’ll take the front. You take the back “ you nodded, shaking the nerves out of your hands and taking a deep breath “ I prepared you for this. Don’t look so damn nervous “ 

He went up first and you followed close behind, gun up and ready to shoot at any fuck wit of an officer that might still be lingering. You headed for the back of the house, movements careful and precise as you checked over the kitchen and the back rooms before stepping out  onto the back porch. You scanned the bushes at the end of the garden for any sign someone might be there, before deeming it empty. 

You almost wanted to laugh. You loved your uncle and his quirky ways and plans. But a tiny part of you had always thought that maybe he was just insanely paranoid. But he clearly knew exactly what he was doing. 

You made your way back through the house, finding Bill on the front path pulling off his mask. You stood next to him and did the same. Listening. 

The town was silent. The wind in the trees and the sound of birds all that could be heard. And you did let yourself laugh then, tucking your gun into the holster strapped to your leg and folding your arms across your chest. 

“ looks like we did it kid “ 

“ hell fuckin yeah “

“ they’re here! Bill!? Come on! “ you were startled awake from where you’d been napping on the couch, by Frank charging through the house and clapping his hands to grab your attention “ come on honey! You too! Up! And straighten those cushions back up again. I just picked them up on the outer perimeter cameras, they’ll be here any minute. Come on!” You squinted at him through your post nap haze, brain attempting to register what the fuck he was even talking about. 

Frank had too much energy on a regular day, but today he seemed ten times more hyped up. You didn’t know how someone could be so cheerful in such circumstances. He’d even had a smile on his face when you and Bill had found him, bottom of the pit outside the fence. Though you guessed if you’d have been in his position, you’d have been happy too. Of all the places to end up, Lincoln was the safest. 

You hadn’t trusted him entirely at first. But Bill had. You’d never seen him like that. Like some lovesick little puppy and you’d spent the night sulking out on the porch, ready to go in and shoot him in the face if you needed to. 

Of course, you hadn’t. 

“ were they armed? “ Bill appeared from where he’d been hiding in the kitchen for the majority of the day, somehow being convinced by Frank to cook a fancy ass meal for everyone. You smelt what you thought was chicken, your stomach growled in response “ just the two of them? “ 

“ just the two of them! And of course they’re armed, what you want them to walk all this way with no guns? Jesus Christ Bill “ your sleepy brain finally woke itself up enough to remember what was going on. 

Frank had made… friends. You’d over heard him chatting away to some woman on the radio one night, had then let it slip to your uncle. And now they were coming to fucking visit. Bill had gone ape shit when he’d first found out. But Frank had his ways, he knew how to wiggle into the tiny little soft spot in Bills heart. No matter how deep. Deep. Deep. Down it was. 

“ Honey. Will you please get up, sort your hair you look like you’ve been yanked through a hedge “ you scoffed at that but ran your fingers through your hair anyway “ make an effort would you. Both of you. This is good. Seriously we need some friends… especially you two “ Bills face matched your own, as it so often did, a frown and a look that simply said ‘ are you fucking with me right now? ‘

“ we don’t need friends “ Frank simply waved a hand of dismissal at Bill and walked over to you, nudging you with his arm 

“ you’ll like Tess I think. She sounds really nice. And she’s not much older than you “

“ you make me sound like a little kid that’s going on a play date to the park  “ you said with a sigh. 

“ this is good. Friends. We need friends you need friends “ you scoffed at that and Frank just rolled his eyes “ only talking to your uncle and me is not healthy “

“ in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not exactly surrounded by options to talk. Oh shall I go sit outside the fence and chat to an infected? Frank, I think theres worst things to worry about than my social life, and lack there of “ 

“ you. Are just like your uncle Jesus Christ “ Frank said mostly to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a moment “ come on. They’ll be at the gate any minute. Time to make friends. Whether you like it or not “ part of you did think that maybe. Just maybe. It would be nice to talk to someone that wasn’t your uncle or Frank. Especially another woman. You’d spent 7 years in the safety of the compound now, 3 of which had included Frank. Some new faces would be nice. But also. The world you lived in… there were no friends to be had anymore. No one you could trust. 

In your- and Bills- eyes, this could all only end badly. 

You and Bill were far too alike for your own good, that’s what Frank always said. But you had been with him practically your whole life, he was more of a dad to you than you real dad was. And yeah, maybe his forms of raising a child hadn’t been exactly… traditional. But you had a pretty good feeling that you were faring much better than the girls who had been at parties whilst you were being taught what to do if the world ever went to shit. 

Which is exactly what had happened. 

In fact you’d watched most of them get carted away on outbreak day. Whilst you and Bill had sat silently in the bunker and watched, listened to them searching the house above you to make sure they left no one behind. Stupid fucks. 

You and Bill had only needed each other. You hadn’t had friends then. And you didn’t really want them now. But you decided to humour Frank at least. 

So as you finally dragged yourself away from the couch, you grabbed the gun you’d left on the coffee table when you’d gone to sleep. Slipping it back into the holster on your leg and checking your pocket for your knife. Just to be safe. 

Bill clearly had the same ideas as you had, as when you found him waiting for you at the front door he too had a gun strapped to his leg. It almost made you laugh at just how similar you both were. 

“ c’mon kid. Let’s get this over and done with “ he grumbled and headed outside to where Frank was practically bouncing on the spot with excitement. Though he did drop his smile for a disappointed frown when he saw you two stroll down the porch steps sporting guns. 

“ really? “ you simply shrugged and joined him in the road, arms folded over your chest. Frank went to walk towards the gate at the end of the street but Bill swung an arm out to stop him. 

“ no. We wait here “

“ they’re not gonna sho- you know what fine. Here is fine. Let’s wait here! “ he said with a slightly forced sense of joy. 

You tried to think slightly positive, if just for Franks sake. Trying to conjure up an image of who these people could be. You knew they were from the Boston QZ. That it was a man and a woman. And that was about it. 

You were slightly surprised they’d even made it out this far, you didn’t know much about quarantine zones but you did know they were controlled by FEDRA. You wondered how they’d managed to get out, as far as you knew the only one and outs of a zone were for things like ration shipments or deliveries. Not visiting some strangers you found on a radio. You’d only had a small sampling of FEDRA yourself, the day they had come to clear the town. 

Promises to the residents of taking them to a QZ. Taking them to safety. That staying in their homes would be dangerous. 

They’d have faired much better if they had stayed. 

You could still remember the day you and Bill had secured the outer perimeters of town, past the fences and gates. The shallow grave and the people left to rot. You could still remember the smell if you thought about it hard enough. Could still see the faces of people you had once walked by on the street, brought eggs from in the shop, lived across the street from.  FEDRA had promised them safety and had done the complete opposite. 

No wonder people wanted to leave the QZ. 

“ there! I see them- you disabled the traps right? “ you gave a snort of a laugh in an attempt to conceal it, the thought that they might just blow up before they even reached the gate tickling you. And clearly Bill too, his lips twitching with a small smile “ I hate you both “ 

“ we’re well aware “ you all waited where you were as Joel punched in the temporary code Frank had given him over the radio, the static buzz sounding as it swung open. Frank was done waiting clearly, hurrying off towards them with a huge grin on his face. 

“ that gun loaded? “ Bill asked in a low voice as you followed a few steps behind Frank. 

“ obviously “ 

“ anything else on you? “

“ knife in my pocket “ 

“ that’s my girl “ as you drew closer and finally got a good look at your guests, you were mildly taken aback. You didn’t really know what you’d expected. Maybe some gnarled, scary and dirty pair of people. All you knew about QZs came from Frank and from what you knew they weren’t exactly great. But these people didn’t fit the thoughts. 

The man had a stony face to rival Bills, dark hair and a slightly scruffy beard. But you weren’t interested in looking at him. But her? Her you were interested in looking at. 

Maybe it was simply 7 years of having nothing but the posters of Kate Bush, Avril lavigne and Beyoncé on your walls to look at in terms of women, finally laying eyes on a real, non fungal looking, very much alive, woman again. She made you clam up for a moment, cheeks flushing and rational thoughts escaping you. 

She was beautiful. There was no point trying to deny it when it was so plainly obvious. You didn’t know what you had expected. But it certainly wasn’t… her. 

Maybe Frank had been right after all, you did need someone new to talk to. Because clearly your lack of human interaction over the years had rendered you absolutely useless in the face of new people. 

“ it’s so amazing to finally meet you! “ you and Bill both hung back as Frank enveloped Tess into a hug then held his hand out for Joel to shake. You both must have looked a picture as Frank turned around mouthing ‘ smile! ‘ at the two of you. You threw him your best ‘ go fuck yourself ‘ smile and he sighed “ Tess, Joel. This is Bill. This is y/n. They’re not exactly huggers “ 

Joel held his hand out and Bill reluctantly took it, shaking it for a time far too short to be welcoming. But he was trying you supposed, for Franks sake. He took Tess’ hand next and then she turned to you. Your eyes flickered over to Frank who gave you a small nod and you looked back to Tess, taking her hand. In the way that Bills hand shake had been a second too short, yours was a second too long. 

You attempted to ignore the blush on your cheeks and took Joel’s hand too. 

“ you hungry? Bill is a wonderful cook. He’s prepared dinner for us all, do you like chicken? “

“ oh I’m starved “ Tess said with a smile, following after Frank as he gestured for them to follow him up to the house. You and Bill hung back again, arms folded over your chest as you watched Frank talking animatedly to Tess and Joel as he walked up the street. 

“ you weren’t subtle “ Bill said in that almost light tone that only you- and maybe now Frank - could pull out of him “ blush a little harder next time I don’t think she noticed “ 

“ oh shut the fuck up I didn’t blush “ 

“ sure “

“ you’re in no position to talk to me about being subtle mr wine-and-dine-the-stranger-in-the-pit “ he grumbled something you didn’t quite catch and huffed 

“ go change the gate code to what we discussed. I’m gonna finish the food “ you watched him head up the road, craning your neck to see Frank had Joel and Tess sat down in the garden already. 

“ I didn’t blush. Fuckin asshole “ you muttered to yourself as you went about resetting the code on the gate. Of course that was complete bullshit. You knew you’d blushed like hell but you had hoped it hadn’t been noticeable. And if Bill had seen it. Tess clearly had. You wanted to slam your head against the gate and erase the whole thing from your memory. Is that why she’d smiled at you? Was she making fun of you? 

Once the gate was reset you took a slow walk back up, trying to shake your embarrassment on the way. And create a plan to just completely avoid any and all eye contact and conversation with Tess until she left, seeing as you had social skills of a newborn baby apparently. 

A solid plan. 

As you pushed through the front gate Bill was placing down plates on the table, frown still etched on his face, placing them down a little too roughly so that a few peas nearly went rolling off the plate. 

“ there she is! Just in time “ Frank said with his usual beaming smile, patting the empty chair next to him that would place you between him and Joel. And opposite Tess. Of course. 

You took your knife from your pocket as you sat down and made a point of flicking the blade up, placing it beside you. Much alike the way Bill had his gun placed next to his fork. 

“ I’m sorry about these two “ Frank sighed as everyone tucked in, Bills eyes trained inquisitively on Joel as he cut his carrots without even looking at them “ could you not?”

“ it’s okay. I’m the same “ Joel said in what you could almost make out as some attempt at a joke. 

“ oh? You’re a paranoid schizophrenic too? “

“ I’m not schizophrenic “ Bill mumbled, eyes still glaring at Joel as he chewed on a chunk of his chicken. Tess turned her attention over to you, eyes narrowing a little in curiosity to find you already watching her. 

“ and you? “ she asked, tilting her head to the side inquisitively. The eye contact almost felt like a challenge, and you held it as you sipped at your water. 

“ I’m not paranoid. Or schizophrenic. I’m practical. You’re complete fucking strangers in a world where everyone is trying to fuck everyone else over. You can’t blame me, or him, for being a little on edge “ the look that grew on her face surprised you a little, a look that was almost… impressed by what you’d said. 

“ that’s smart. That’s really smart “ your plan to withhold eye contact and conversation had failed ridiculously fast “ but look. I just want to say, guns and knife aside. Which I get by the way “ she said with a pointed look in your direction “ even if we don’t end up working together on anything, I’m happy we had this. A nice meal with civilised people? I needed this” she sounded genuinely sincere as she spoke. It made you wonder what the QZ was like again. How life differed there. 

Of course it was different but… how different. How tough. How lucky were you really to be out there with just Bill and Frank. No officers telling you what to do, controlling where you went, rationing your food. 

You all ate in silence for a few moments, your eyes flickering between Joel and Tess as she sighed around a mouthful of food. 

“ what’s food like in the QZ? “ you asked, your curious brain getting ahead of your mouth. 

“ not like this “

“ shit “ they both said at the same time and it made a smile pull at your lips. 

“ I can’t remember the last time I had a vegetable that actually crunched “ she said with another blissful sigh, her eyes closing for a second. You looked away before you did something stupid like blush again “ and ate something with actual flavour “

“ we have mostly dried or dehydrated foods. Makes it last longer. Especially if it’s travellin cross country between QZs “ Joel added “ any of the good stuff gets snatched up by the FEDRA officers first. If you’re lucky you’ll get a 20 year old can of beans or somethin “ 

“ you know much about FEDRA? “ Tess asked, glancing around the table but eyes ultimately landing back on you as she sipped at her wine. 

You and Bill both scoffed at that. 

“ yeah. We know about ‘em “ 

“ couple days after outbreak day they cleared town. Told people they were gonna be safe. Going to a zone. You know what they did? Took them up the hill, and shot them all in the back of the head. Safe my fuckin ass “ you mumbled, taking another bite. 

“ yeah. We saw the grave. Heard about that kinda thing but… not pretty “ Joel said with a shake of his head “ how’d you get away? “

“ he’s been prepping for this thing for years “ Frank said with a laugh and nudged Bills arm “ you’re looking at two real life preppers. I thought they were just made up for tv shows! Turns out they’re not “ 

“ survivalist not a prepper “ Bill grumbled. 

“ like there’s any difference “ 

Conversation fell quiet again as everyone finished their food, Frank got Tess talking again once everyone was almost finished and you watched intently. Eyes locked on her as she spoke, not really even listening to her. Just watching. She looked ethereal in the late afternoon sun, her skin almost golden in the light. You weren’t exactly spoilt for choice these days when it came to getting to look at beautiful women, so you took all the chance you could get. 

She caught you watching her once or twice, eyes flickering to meet yours, but you were far past caring if she saw you now. You’d embarrassed yourself enough to last a life time. So you might as well own it. 

She didn’t seem to mind. In fact her face seemed to soften every time she looked over and found you were still watching her, almost as if she liked it. She didn’t come across as someone that constantly craved attention, constantly wanted people watching her and admiring her. So maybe she liked it because no one else was looking at her like that. 

It made your eyes drift briefly over to Joel. They were together… right? You’d just assumed. But if they were surely he looked at her. Admired her. So why would she seem so flattered by your looks?

“ youll be staying next door, with y/n. It’s the only other house In town that’s fixed up, the spare rooms in our place have been taken over by Bill and his hoarding. She has the whole place to herself, plenty of room for you both “ your eyes darted over to Frank, tuning back into conversation as he readily offered them your place to stay without even asking you. He hadn’t told you about that. And some warning would’ve been nice about your new house guests. 

And being stuck in the same building as Tess for the night was as terrifying as it was appealing. Having her just across the hall? You were barely surviving sitting outside with her. If she was in your house you’d have to talk to her. And not just wistfully stare at her from across the table. 

“ I- what? “ 

“ thank you “ she said with a smile at Frank and then you.

“ why don’t you go show Tess around? “ Frank suggested and kicked you lightly under the table, a knowing look thrown in your direction. You scowled at him and he simply raised an eyebrow. God you hated him sometimes. 

“ yeah. Sure “ you said, still scowling at him and his stupid fucking smile as you stood up from the table “ this way “ you didn’t wait for her, heading out of the garden gate and rounding to your own. You heard her footsteps behind you as you climbed the porch steps, pushing open the door and turning around “ after you “ she gave you another smile and a nod of thanks as she stepped inside. 

“ whole house just for you? “ she asked as you closed the front door behind you. You hadn’t done all that much to it since you’d moved in. Frank had insisted you decorated a bit. He’d taken you around the old furniture store and made you swap a few of the things out, and you’d moved the stuff from your old room at Bills over. So it was a little more… you. 

“ yeah. Figured I needed some space to myself as I got older so. We fixed this up. Moved in like a year after Frank got here. Gives them more privacy too “ she nodded, poking her head into the lounge and glancing around. 

“ can I see upstairs? “ you nodded and followed a few steps behind as she went up. It felt weird to have someone in your space. Even Bill and Frank didnt go in too often. 

She stopped at the top of the stairs and you pointed towards the spare bedroom

“ you can stay in there “ she headed in and looked around, hands on her hips. 

“ wasn’t expecting this “ she walked over to the vanity, trailing her hand across the various trinkets that littered it and sending a small cloud of dust particles into the air, catching in the sun leaking through the curtains like glitter. You’d picked over the stuff in there years ago, taking the stuff you liked and leaving the rest. You hadn’t liked the family that had lived there before. So you actually quite enjoyed stealing their stuff “ you don’t strike me as a 1970s chic type of girl “ 

“ I don’t use this room “ you shrugged “ it’s how they left it. Minus a few things I liked “ she looked over to you with a smile at that, she picked up a bottle of perfume. It had gone yellow in its bottle from age and sunlight

“ not a fan of the perfume? “

“ she was like 50 something and always smelt like moth balls. I doubt it smelt any good then, never mind now “ she scoffed and placed it back down. 

She moved over to the bed, pushing her hands down on the mattress and soothing her hands over the blankets. 

“ almost forgot what a nice bed felt like. One we have in the QZ is thin as fuck “ 

“ most of the stuff here’s pretty nice. Most families in town were well off. The dicks that lived here were too, lucky for you. Smelt like moth balls but had a shit ton of cash “ she laughed a little and shrugged 

“ Lucky me “ 

“ you can take anything you want out of here. I don’t need it. It’s mostly old lady shit but. Go for it “ she placed a hand on her chest and gave you an over dramatic look

“ wow. Just wow. Thank you. I’ve always wanted a girl to give me free reign at ‘ old ladies r us ‘. Some moth ball perfume? Man. You’re really spoiling me sweetheart “ 

Your breath hitched a little at the pet name. She’d been joking but it still made your cheeks prickle, made a funny feeling blossom in your chest. 

If she noticed she didn’t say anything, simply averted her eyes to look around the room again. 

You headed over to the en-suite then, clearing your throat lightly to try and appear as normal as possible. She turned to face you as you opened the door so she could look inside. 

“ uhm. Bathroom. All the pipes and plumbing and shit works so you know. Use the facilities as much as you want to “ her eyes practically sparkled as you spoke and she walked into the room and over to the sink, turning on the hot tap and sighing as the water ran over her fingers. 

“ hot fuckin water “ she said softly, mostly to herself it seemed “ in the QZ you get two types of water. Freezing or slightly less freezing. If it’s the summer and the suns been on the pipes you might get lucky and actually get lukewarm. Rationed too it shuts off after a few minutes “ 

You couldn’t imagine that. You loved being clean and warm, loved long showers that left the bathroom steamy or baths that you stayed in until the water was cold and your fingers pruned. 

You really were starting to realise just how lucky you were in Lincoln. You’d probably be dead if you had gone to a QZ. You didn’t take orders well. And you liked your home comforts. 

“ you can take a shower. If you want. I can get you some new clothes and there’s a bunch of soaps “ you said scratching your head a little nervously wondering if that would come off the wrong way, like you were insinuating she needed to shower. Which you weren’t. Of course. She seemed to spot the internal panic plastered on your face and smiled warmly at you 

“ Now? Cause that’d be fuckin awesome “ you gave a small nod and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jeans. 

“ sure. And don’t worry. It’s not gonna shut off. Hot water might run out if you’re in there too long but give it a few minutes and it’ll heat up again “ she turned to face you with a genuine look of gratefulness in her eyes. 

“ thank you. Really “ she took your hand and gave it a light squeeze. She did exactly what you had done when she arrived. She held it a little longer than she should of, her eyes soft as she held your gaze. You couldn’t figure out the exact colour of her eyes in the late afternoon light coming through the frosted glass of the window. If they were blue or more green. 

You wanted to know. You wanted to see them in the bright morning sunlight. In the moonlight. In the winter sun. The summer sun. 

You wished you’d paid more attention outside. 

“ I’ll leave you to it then “ you said after a moment “ I’ll go get you some clothes, I’ll leave them on the bed for you “ she gave you a small nod and you stepped away, closing the door behind you. 

Maybe you understood Bill more now on the day Frank had turned up. How incredibly strong a sense of longing could actually be for someone you didn’t really even know. How overwhelming it could suddenly feel. 

You took a breath and closed your eyes for a moment. Before heading out of the room. 

As you went into the storage closet at the top of the stairs to look for some decent clothes for her, you realised you hadn’t left her a towel. You hurried through into your own bathroom and grabbed one from the cupboard. It was probably nicer than one that had been boxed up for months on end. So you took it back through. 

You knocked on the bathroom door, not hearing the water running yet and hoping you’d caught her before she got in. 

“ Tess? I. I have a towel. Forgot to give you one “ the door opened a moment later and all words escaped you, mouth hanging open slightly and closing again like some kind of fish. She was stood there in her underwear, that same gentle smile on her face as if it were truly the most normal thing possible. That it was an everyday occurrence for you to see her stood there like that. You knew your cheeks were flaming and you cleared your throat slightly, avoiding looking at her at all and staring at the floor instead “ t- towel “ 

She took it from your hands and you chanced a glance up at her face to see her smile, eyes narrowed slightly in question. Could she see how flustered you were? Could she tell? 

“ thanks. You okay? “ you turned on your heel and left the room before you could embarrass yourself further, not even giving her an answer. 

“ fuckin idiot “ you muttered to yourself as you went back to the boxes of clothes and sighed. Had your lack of human interaction affected you that much? That one interaction with another had turned you into a silly stumbling mess of a girl. This wasn’t you. You were strong. Brave. 

It made you think of Bill again. How he had all but melted on the spot after half a day with Frank in the house. 

You were almost a mirrors image. 

One meal. Letting him shower. Letting him stay. 

You leant your elbows on one of the boxes, cradling your face in the your hands with a sigh. You had made fun of him then and still did. Yet now? Maybe you got it. Maybe you were more like him than you’d ever allowed yourself to accept or see. You had pushed down that deep, aching, yearning in your chest for so long just like he had. 

Yearning and longing for… someone else. Someone that looked you the way people did in those stupid romance movies. But also saw you for what you were. Brave. Strong. Capable. Accepted it and nurtured it, protected but wanted to be protected right back. You had wanted it all along. But had suppressed it. Forced it down in favour of focussing on things you deemed more practical. 

Exactly like Bill. And it had taken a whole fucking apocalypse to see it. With him. And you. Some stranger leaving a QZ. In your case though, that stranger was going back again. But she’d be back. You hoped. 

You gave another sigh before looking though the boxes of clothes, looking for something that looked relatively decent for her. You plucked out a few options and too them back through into her room. 

You could hear the shower running, a small stream of steam seeping under the door. She must’ve had the water as hot as she could stand. You placed the clothes down on the bed and tried not to think about the image of her behind the door. You wanted to know what she looked like, feel how soft her skin felt under the hot water, look and touch and map out every detail. See the way the water droplets caught on her eyelashes,  trace patterns in freckles. 

You left the room, suddenly feeling too hot. As if it were you under the stream of scalding water and not her. 

You busied yourself with finding out some clothes for Joel too. You wondered what he was talking about with Bill and Frank outside. 

Were they talking about Tess? Discussing relationships and telling stupid stories of how Bill met Frank and how Joel met Tess? 

It made your chest hurt. And made you realise that maybe you weren’t in the same situation as Bill after all. Frank had been alone. Tess wasn’t. Tess had a… Joel. Whatever he was to her. And there you were getting flustered over her in the shower. Idiot. 

You loitered by the storage closet for a while. A pile of clothes for Joel in your hands but not entirely sure what to do. You didn’t know if she was done yet. She hadn’t come out. If you listened carefully you couldn’t hear the water anymore. And you couldn’t stay on the landing all night. 

So you headed over to the door again, knocking lightly. There was some shuffling for a moment and then the door opened and you clammed up again. It’s not like she’d looked… dirty before. But now she just looked. Clean. Her hair was wet and tied up on her head, her skin that shiny glowy pink that came from a hot shower. The clothes fit her well. And a waft of the coconut body wash she’d clearly used drifted into your nose. You used the same stuff yet it didn’t feel as dizzying on you as it did on her.

“ sorry. I was just- you okay? “ 

“ I’m good. Thanks for the clothes “ she said and walked back into the room, sitting down on the bed with a content sigh “ I haven’t felt this clean in so long “ you stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind you “ you don’t realise how good you’ve got it here “

“ I’m starting to realise “ you said softly, dropping the clothes for Joel onto the vanity and moving to sit beside her. She seemed almost wistful. Looking around the room and hand tracing the embroidery on the blanket absentmindedly. 

“ how’d you end up here? With Bill and Frank? Frank was never really clear about it on the radio “ 

“ Bill is my uncle. My mom died when I was little and my dad was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine. Thought a bottle of vodka was more important than a tin of baby milk. Bills the only other family I had, before my mom died she asked Bill to take care of me. He didn’t exactly want a kid but. I don’t know, he loved my mom. So. Here I am “ 

You didn’t like talking about your past much. You’d avoided it as much as possible before the outbreak, you hated the looks of pity you always got. You didn’t want pity. You couldn’t do anything with pity. 

But Tess didn’t give you that look. Instead she smiled. 

“ should’ve known you were related to Bill. You both frown the same “ you scoffed at that, but you knew it was true “ he’s been preparing you for this shit you whole life then? “ 

“ not this exactly. But something. Don’t poke fun at it. If it wasn’t for his smart thinking you wouldn’t have just had a hot shower “ it came out a little more snappy than you meant to and she raised her hands in mock surrender 

“ I didn’t mean anything by- “

“ sorry. Sorry “ you sighed. You ran a hand over your face before standing up and deciding to just get out before you embarrassed yourself further “ I’ll leave you to it. I found some clothes out for Joel I’ll take them next door and- “

“ no no “ she reached out and grabbed your hand “ stay? I wanna talk to you more. It’s nice to talk to someone other than Joel “ you hesitated for a moment before sitting back down. 

“ you don’t like talking to Joel? “ she shrugged and flopped backwards onto the mattress, throwing an arm over her eyes

“ his brother was the more talkative one. But he’s gone. He wants to save the world. Joined the fireflies “ 

“ like the bug? Is this some kind of metaphor or- “ Tess laughed at your clear confusion. An actual laugh. Not like the small little chuckles you’d heard once or twice in the day. You liked it. Liked the way it made her eyes crinkle and her nose scrunch. 

“ are you being serious? I can’t tell “ you rolled your eyes with a huff, not exactly fond of her making fun of you “ okay. Serious “ she pulled at your arm until you lay down next to her and she smiled at you “ there’s a group. Trying to make things how they used to be. No FEDRA laws. They’re fancy terrorists basically “ 

“ and Joel’s brother joined them? “ Tess propped her self up on her elbow and turned to look at you. 

“ Joel said he’s… ‘ a joiner ‘. He wants to change to world “ a lot of people wanted to change the world. And a lot of people failed at it “ it’s a shame. He was nice. Joel… he has his moments but. He’s not much of a talker “ 

“ And you are? “ 

“ maybe “ you were hyper aware suddenly at how close you were, lying there beside her and looking up at her. 

Her eyes were green. 

The setting sun outside was shining across her face and you could finally see them better. Green. 

“ I don’t know if I’m much of a talker “ it came out far quieter than you’d meant it to, but she didn’t seem surprised by it. 

“ i gathered that from the way you were just staring over dinner and not actually joining in the conversation “ your cheeks were aflame, your eyes blowing wide in a mild sense of horror. Of course you’d known she’d seen you watching her. But to have it confirmed out loud  wasnt exactly what you were expecting. You went to sit up and escape the situation as fast as possible but she grabbed your arm again to keep you down “ hey. Don’t… you keep doing that. Runnin off “

It was instinct to run. 

She didn’t let go of you even when it was clear you weren’t going anywhere, her hand sliding up from your wrist to your bicep and squeezing softly. 

“ im sorry- “

“ don’t be. It’s nice “ her voice was quiet now. Soft. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach “ you’re also really not subtle with it. When I arrived. Over dinner. When you gave me my towel. Now” you hadn’t even realised you’d been staring that time. But you had. Examining the green of her eyes again. 

“ I’m. Sure I’m not the only one “ you have Joel for that 

She shrugged again her hand moving from where it been burning into your arm, up to tuck some of your hair back behind your ear. 

“ only one worth looking back at though” her fingers grazed across your jaw, lightly over your lips before coming to rest on your cheek “ stop acting like you have to be tough all the time. Even your uncle seems to have let down his guard if he let in Frank “ You didn’t know what to say to that. How she seemed to have sussed you out incredibly fast, seen through your facade “ so let me in too “ 

You hadn’t expected her to kiss you. So it took you a moment to process it when she did, closing the small gap in between you and capturing your lips in hers. 

But as soon as you accepted what was happening, you pulled away and sat up, your brain screaming at you for how wrong it was. Joel was only downstairs and you were there kissing his girlfriend? 

“ no. We. I- can’t- Joel “ you said it a little broken but she got the point, her brow furrowing and her hand on your shoulder. 

“ Joel? What’s Joel got to do with- oh “ her eyebrows shot up and she let out a little laugh again. The same kind as the one from earlier, the nose scrunching, eye crinkling kind “ you think? Me and Joel? “ you folded your arms across your chest, a scowl forming on your face as you realised she was laughing at you again.  

“ what was I supposed to think? “

“ look. Me and Joel… it’s not like that. At all. I promise you “ she reached out for your hands, turning to face a little more  “ don’t give me that look. You look so much like Bill when you scowl it’s off putting “ you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched as you tried to suppress a smile at that. Frank often said the same thing. That you and Bill both had the same pissed off face. The same everything face. 

“ you could’ve told me that earlier “

“ what? You think casually slipping into conversation that me and Joel aren’t fucking is just easy? “ you huffed, the scowl still etched into your face “ hey! It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Tess and this is Joel who’s not my boyfriend. Oh chicken you say? Awesome I’m starving! “ she said with sarcasm dripping from her words “ I thought. I thought I was being as obvious as you were. Clearly not “

You thought you’d have noticed. You had been staring at her all day. But you hadn’t. Too consumed with admiring her rather than paying full attention 

“ would’ve stopped me ruining our kiss if you’d just said something“ you grumbled and she sighed, sliding a hand back up to cup your cheek again. 

“ yeah well that’s the thing about kisses, you don’t just have to do it once. You can redo it. Over. And over “ she pulled you in closer as she spoke, her nose brushing against yours “ and this time, please don’t think about Joel. Knowing you’re kissing me and thinking about him is a real fuckin turnoff“ 

“ shut up oh my god “ she did just that, pulling you back in again. It was better than the first, of course, it lasted longer than a few seconds for a start. And you didn’t have a voice in your head telling you how wrong it was. 

You revelled in it. Letting her pull you closer until you were practically sat in her lap, fists twisting into the material on her shirt too scared to actually… touch her. She wasn’t afraid though . Her fingers were laced into the hair at the nape of your neck, the other hand holding your face to guide you at the pace she wanted. 

It was a little clumsy. You weren’t exactly open to opportunities for practice when it came to kissing, well… anyone. But she didn’t seem to mind. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you were afraid you’d go deaf, your skin prickling with goosebumps. So starved of touch for so long that you didn’t even know how to fully react. 

But the way she inched her fingers just under the collar of your shirt, told you she was probably as touch starved as you were. 

When her tongue brushed against your bottom lip you wasted no time in letting her in. The whimper that escaped your throat was slightly involuntary, and at any other time you thought you might have been embarrassed by it. But you were far too preoccupied with her to care. The fingers splayed across your cheek burning into your skin, guiding you and keeping you grounded. You were running out of air but you couldn’t find a single part of you that even cared. 

You didn’t want it to stop. But the world, as it so often did, had other ideas. 

“ y/n? Tess? “ you startled as Franks voice sounded from downstairs, his footsteps growing nearer as he climbed the stairs. You practically dived away from her, hurriedly trying to soothe your hair and look somewhat normal. She didn’t look even remotely concerned, falling back against the mattress again with a smug smile stretching across her face “ hello? “

“ in- in here! “ you called, clearing your throat mid sentenced as it cracked with your nerves. 

Franks head popped around the door, his usual goofy grin in place. 

“ you two doing okay? You’ve been up here a while “ his eyes flashed between Tess and you and his smile took on new light, quirking an eyebrow at you “ honey? You’re all red. Doing okay? “ the little shit

“ I’m fine “ you said with a glare that only made him smile more. 

“ well the alpha male energy out there is becoming unbearable. Come save me? “

“ is Joel in one of his moods again? “ Tess finally spoke, getting up and smoothing her hands over her shirt “ I’ll come save you. Let’s go “ she gestured for Frank to lead the way and headed for the door, grabbing your hand as she passed and pulled you along “ you too sweetheart. Looks like you’ve got a new member to the grumpy club “ 

“ I’m not grumpy “ you muttered under your breath. She simply scoffed and headed back outside, hand still laced with yours. 

[cy-cyborg]

I am SO close to finishing Baldur's Gate 3... I think, I've been saying that for the past 20 hours lol, but I really want to gush about Karlach! Once I've actually finished the game I'll probably make a proper post talking about her in a more structured way from a disability standpoint but I just really want to talk about her now lol.

[ID: A gif of Karlach from Baldur's Gate 3, a tall woman with red skin, one black horn, black hair and glowing orange eyes. She is covered in scars and tattoos, her chest glows and she is dancing on the spot in front of a cluttered tent./end ID]

I did not know how much my inner child needed to see someone like her on screen. Strange thing to say about a character from a game that's intro features worms crawling into your eye in hell but its true.

I have massive burn-like scars all over my my lower body, especially my legs, and while I always (mostly) saw the amputations they came with as just a part of me, I had much more negative feelings about those scars, well into my young adulthood, but especially as a teenager. It wasn't helped by the fact that while most folks had the decency to keep their comments about my visible disability... neutral-ish, the comments about my scars ranged from "you should cover those up" to "that's discusting" and young children literally crying at the sight of them. On top of that, every time a character with scars like mine was in the media, they were either the villain, used to teach others a lesson about not being mean or to teach that chatacter a lesson about how beauty is on the inside or how to love their appearance despite thier scars (that they'll be sure to tell you they think are hideous).

But karlach isn't any of those things. She's confident and literally walks around armour that show her scars by default. No one calls her gross or tells her to cover them. Her scars are never brought up as a negative at all, at least that ive seen, they're never something that detracts from her appearance. She never tries to hide them or gets insecure about them. When you romance her, there's no comment about if you're sure you can find "someone with scars like hers" attractive. Characters in the game dont find her attractive in spite of them, they just find her attractive. Full stop. They're just, there. And what's more, the fandom, for the most part, seems to agree. I have seen so many people swooning over her, and they almost never bring the scars up. People don't care, they just think she's hot! (There will always be outliers of course but they seem few and far between in my circles at least lol).

And my God, it's SO refreshing! Don't get me wrong, it's not inherently bad to have chatacters be insecure about things like scars (Wyll has a few moments of insecurity around his, and I think it's done well) but it's so nice for it to not be the central focus for once, or even really a big at all. Especially for a woman character.

I was so convinced as a teenager that no one would find me attractive because of those scars. Scars like Karlach's. I'm older now, I have worked through it all, and any lingering insecurities I had on the subject were shut down when me and my partner got together. But 15/16 year old me desperately needed to see a chatacter like Karlach, and im so happy she exists now!

[gattmammon]

I am literally SO TIRED of Westerners in all social media but also in the destiel meme here the comments are full of "why are they so ass backwards? Didn't they invent homosexuality lmfao" "lol what took them so long" shut up! You don't even know that orthodoxy exists. Also I saw the tag "I thought Mediterraneans approved of mlm affection" boy am I going to blow you your mind that men kissing each other on the cheek and saying I love you is normal here but gay sex is thought as an anomaly against nature. Anyway so many western progressives are so smug.

Djdjfjfjfjfjfur like. Literally. Im gonna make this about italy because ive seen this a l9t about italy as well but the fact that we sometimes get a breakthrough international artist cishet man who wears makeup does not mean thats the norm anymore than lil nas x's existence means glitter is the norm for American black men.

The fact that italian soccer fans full on jump on each other after a goal or cry openly when their team wins does not mean that they would not beat the SHIT of any kid in their vicinity who does not perform gender correctly. Like the whole "men cannot have feelings or touch each other" thing is a Puritan/Protestant neurosis that they project without realising. Gender performance looks different but that doesn't mean that it isn't strictly enforced. I know kids who stopped washing after doing sports because the other kids on their team called them gay for wanting to not smell. I remember this whole lithany by a Southern Italian author of things that get you called a slur in his culture which included "not putting super spicy pepper oil on your pizza" and "using an hair-dryer". And yet tons of people just accepted idk James Somerton talking about how Italy was full of gay men longing for nothing more than banging British kids on the grand tour... But it was just taken at face value until someone actually sat down and considered his pattern of making up shit on the whole.

And like. As usual Greece gets a whole lot of this as well only even worse because people usually have some notion of the Catholic Church and the Italian middle ages being a thing but the Orthodox Church straight up does not exist in their mind. Like Greece went from Ancient to Today in some sort of time capsule I guess. And that's not even touching the misconceptions about ancient Greece as yaoi paradise

[angelshimaa]

━━ 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 ;; 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔

♡ cw :: gn!reader, slight angst; baby’s just sad about distance, but also maybe a liiiiitle fluffy, mentions of tears (not reader’s), reverse comfort maybe ?? tbh this is just a ??

♡ pet names :: angel & pretty !

♡ a/n :: inspired by a comment @hfhxjdndnnrnt (hope you don’t mind the tag !) left under a post on my archive blog— this just got carried away from me ig so i hope this is okay :) and and yes eijirou = best long distance bf <3

“ei, aren’t you supposed to be sleeping now?”

it’s a rhetorical question— you already know the answer. you don’t miss how his eyes squint as he looks at his screen, the only source of light in the otherwise pitch-black room. nor do you miss just how deep his eyebrows crease, trying to get his vision clear enough to focus.

yet, as lazy as it is, he smiles at the sound of your voice.

“…maybe?” his voice half-heartedly carries his word, rough and slowed. “doesn’t matter though, ‘m talking to you.”

you can’t hold back your own small smile, caught between wanting to stay on call and wanting him to catch some sleep— slight time difference and how busy he was with an international mission already made him more scarce than his physical distance did. you weren’t ready to talk about your third feeling— let alone let it sit in your mind, rotting every other thought you had.

that yearning always made you lonelier.

“i miss ya, angel— so so much.”

eijirou says something he’s repeated in every call the two of you shared while he was away, yet there’s something heavier to how softly he says it this time. something in the sentence rang like a confession to himself more than anything. the words tug at your heartstrings, and so does the way he can barely hold his head up— settling for letting his arm cushion it while his other hand held his phone.

“i miss your hugs and holding your hand and your cuddles— miss ‘em so much.”

you smile lightly, a certain twinge of sadness turning the corners of your lips up for you.

“i miss you, eijirou. you and your bright crocs,” your attempt at a joke has him let out a short chuckle. “can’t wait to see you and your smile in real life— and to hear you laugh next to me.”

you don’t miss how his eyes start to well with tears as he smiles.

“you’re helping so many people alongside fatgum and amajiki— can’t wait to tell you again just how proud i am the moment you come back home.”

you hate how you can’t reach out to hold his face, or open your arms to invite him in— to have him melt in your arms. you hate how you can’t catch his stray tear with your thumb and you hate how this is the only connection such distance allows.

“but, we’re almost there ei, okay?”

slowly, you see his head nod, a mop of red hair moving a little in any which way it pleased.

“mhm— almost there— i’m sorry, pretty.” the tears come and he tries wiping them onto his sleeve. “just miss you is all— didn’t mean to cry.”

if one listened closely, one could hear the swelling of your heart against your ribcage— full and fragile and thumping softly at the sight of his tears.

it’s clearly been a rough while.

“you didn’t do anything wrong, eiji— it’s okay to cry.”

you’re soft with him, as soft as you can be when a screen is all you share. it’s that softness that helps stop the flow of tears, that helps him keep breathing steady. it’s that softness that helps him into bed, hoping it’ll follow him into his dreams.

“goodnight, pretty. i love you.”

his voice holds the slightest tremble still. yet, you smile, pressing a kiss onto the pads of your fingers and pressing those to the screen.

“we’re almost there, eiji. goodnight— i love you.”

and with that soft promise, you can’t find it in you to drop the call until he dozes off, his breathing just as soft and steady.

— thank you for reading ! please consider reblogging / leaving feedback ! <3

[its-actually-minicika]

Headcanons for the HotD!Main Three

Part 1? (Let me know if you would like more);;

Pairing(s): Aemond x Reader, Jacaerys x Reader, Aegon x Reader

Warnings: None, for once in my life;

Author's Note: just a couple of fluffy headcanons for your pleasure, to make up for the last part of the Yule Ball series;; they date back to your first meeting with the boys, and go as far as to touch close to the full-swing celebrations of the ball, during your 5th year at Hogwarts :)

Of First Meetings And First Crushes

☆ Aemond Targaryen ☆

There is a single, undisputable fact when it comes to your life at Hogwarts - you and Aemond go way back;

He bumped into you on your first ever ride on the Hogwarts Express. While you were discoursing with your new possible housemates, he was frantically searching for his old cat, Vhagar;

"I lost my pet. She is a Siamese cat with only one ear - answers to the name of Vhagar." He said stiffly to the cheery group of people, and one 3d year Ravenclaw snickered in reply: "Shit, little guy, I'd run away too if my name was Vhagar."

His group of friends immediately started laughing and it's safe to say you didn't like that;

After a short screaming match with the rude Ravenclaws (which you effortlessly won), you decided to help Aemond find his missing cat;

"You shouldn't have done that." He chastised you with a serious tone. "They could be your new housemates."

"There is only one thing I won't tolerate in my presence, and that is a bully!" The fire in your eyes made him smile - truly smile. "Now, let's go find your cat."

Vhagar ended up being in the back compartments, with all the other caged pets; she was trying to reach for your own cat with a shaky paw, but was failing miserably

Aemond grabbed her hurriedly and you made a joke that your pets should be best friends - he turned really red after seeing your wide smile;

For the rest of the train ride, you both sat together in an empty compartment - and when Aemond got hungry, you gave him one of your P&J sandwiches that you made for the trip;

"I also added chocolate chips. The secret is to add many, many chocolate chips."

He felt really dejected when you were sorted into Gryffindor, and he in Slytherin. He thought that was the beginning of the end for your sudden friendship - but you proved him wrong when you defended him time and time again whenever anyone made a nasty comment about his hair, his height, his gloomy disposition or his "ugly" cat;

He fell in love with you very quickly: how could he not, when you were so radiant and so good to him?

Your friendship was going steady, until the end of your 1st year, when he stopped writing to you mid-summer;

You were crushed by his silence, and eventually stopped writing as well;

When you saw him on the Hogwarts Express again, you understood why he ghosted you - his left eye was covered by a black eyepatch, and a deep scar cut from his brow to his lower cheek.

A lot of drama ensued between you two: Aemond tried his hardest to push you away, but you were very determined and head-strong. Eventually, your friendship won in the face of any argument or harsh words Aemond could throw in your face;

During your 3d and 4th year, he was COMPLETELY DEVOTED to you;

He was your shadow - wherever you went, he was quick to follow.

Some students made nasty comments about it (always behind his back, of course, because Aemond had that scary presence);

When he told you about the stinging comments, you assured him that you loved hanging out with him and it would really hurt you if he stopped being near you;

Aemond.exe stopped working for 3 working days after hearing you say that - yeah, he does loves you that much, HE IS WHIPPED;

That being said, Aemond's love language is acts of service and quality time;

He "helps" you with homework (a fancy word for "he literally does it for you even if you don't ask him to") and is always there when you need someone to listen and lend you a crying shoulder;

You invited him over for Christmas during your 3d year, and he was so nervous, he wore his best clothes when meeting your parents;

He looked really chill on the outside, though, and spoke really mechanically for the 1st half of the night, like he was applying for a job or something;

Little do you know he was applying to be your boyfriend EYYY--

Everyone knows you're in love. EVERYONE. It's really annoying to look at the two of you sometimes smh;

"JUST CONFESS AND GET IT OVER WITH PLEASE WE'RE ALL BEGGING YOU"

"Celeste, he doesn't like me like that..."

"YES BITCH HE DOES"

He's the main Slytherin Chaser and the Quidditch team captain;

What a surprise, omg!11!!1!

He's not even into the sport, he just wanted to make a point that even with his missing eye, he can still do anything everyone else can - and better;

Okay, Aemond, we get it, you're really cool;

You're also the Gryffindor Seeker (oh-oh, athletic rivalry???) and he ALWAYS comes to your games (when he's not directly playing against you, of course);

He won't be cheering for you while swinging a butterbeer in the air - but he will curse the other seeker out under his breath and smirk when you catch the Golden Snitch;

Your first ever game was against the Ravenclaws, and when he came to support you wearing all silver and green, you gave him your Gryffindor scarf;

"So you can blend in with the enemy!" You beamed at him so innocently;

He gaslit you into believing he gave it back and you just lost it;

You didn't lose it;

He stole it from you and now hides it in his trunk;

He takes it out when no one is in his dorm and sniffs it from time to time LMAO;

He bought you a new scarf from Hogsmeade, though;

Never give it to him during a game.

NEVER!

He will steal it again.

And buy you ANOTHER scarf;

And repeat the terrible cycle;

It just smells like you, okay???? It's not his fault, now leave him alone;

When you win a game, and you're not otherwise engaged, he celebrates with you in Hogsmeade;

He takes you to "The Empty Barrel" (literally the fanciest restaurant the little town has to offer);

"Don't even think about covering the whole check, Aemond!"

"Hmm."

No, he won't take you to Three Broomsticks. The tables there are sticky and he wants to do this right, god damn it...!

You feel bad that he always pays for those little dinners, when it should be you who covers the table;

So you shyly ask him if he wants to go celebrate one of his victories with you one day;

He wants to whisk you away and keep you all to himself with how adorable you're being;

Aemond accepts (how would he ever say no to you), but has to take an hour long cold shower after your proposition to cool off;

Anyway, you decide to take him to The Hog's Head!

You eat there and HE STILL COVERS THE DAMN CHECK;

"Aem. We agreed on something. Come on!"

"Did we now?"

"You're terrible. I'm never going out with you again."

But you do. And he knows not to take your cute threat seriously;

He gives you a small chuckle that makes your whole face burn in embarrassment over the things it led you to think about;

Despite the initial set-back, you do manage to one-up him that night, though! You tell him to wait in the empty Great Hall for you, and you return with a homemade apple pie and those horrible peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that you gave him when you first met;

"We never ate dessert! There's no way we can end the night without dessert."

He almost kisses you then and there, but gets scared you'll reject him;

The Portrait of Merlin ships you two. That's all I had to say.

No, but seriously, the most invested on-looker is the portrait of Merlin - he learns both your schedules every year and always keeps one of you busy with talking in between classes, so that you may "accidentally bump" into each other (see part 1 of the Yule Ball for a snippet of that);

The whole ass West Wing placed bets on who you'll end up with between Aegon, Aemond and Jacaerys.

Bonus: when you walk with Aemond, no matter the time of day, you have the biggest "scary dog privileges". NO ONE is getting close to bother you;

☆ Jacaerys Velaryon (Strong) ☆

You and Jace are also in the same year! But despite the fact that you guys have been seeing each other day and night since your sorting, you weren't really friends until your second year, when you suddenly got partnered up in so many of your classes;

You were excited to work with him, since he was so sweet to everyone, but you were also a little scared of rejection;

He came from a good family, he had a good last name, a million friends and a thousand extra-curriculars he partook in;

You half-expected to do all those projects wholly by yourself - to your surprise, Jace was incredibly serious, and the best partner anyone could ever hope for!

He never takes himself and his vision on things too seriously, and is more than happy to admit when he's wrong or when you have a better idea than him;

He smuggled pumpkin pastries into the Library for your first study meeting, and it ended up becoming tradition for the two of you;

How you never got caught eating in a forbidden space is beyond everyone at this point;

Although you never really started hanging out outside of class after your first couple of projects, you now called each other "friends" and always sat next to each other in Potions and DADA;

Unbeknownst to you, Jacaerys got into a fight over you and actually broke a Slytherin's nose when he heard him talk smack about you and your supposed weight;

"I dare you to say that again."

50 points were taken from Gryffindor that day - it was a pretty big deal;

He ended up talking so much about you to his parents on Christmas break, that they invited you to celebrate the New Year with them - you accepted, although a bit confused by the spontaneity of it all;

His family is the sweetest EVER;

Laenor made you a beautiful maroon sweater with your name designed on the collar with golden letters;

Of course, Jace had a matching one and wore his almost every day when you guys came back to Hogwarts;

He loved the fact that you were twinning your fits - even if you did it accidentally;

During your stay with his family, you got really close to Baela, Rhaena and Luke! You felt really grateful - your second year was rough for you, with Aemond's ever changing mood, and you felt so happy to be surrounded by friends who cared about you;

Jace and Luke BEGGED their parents to buy them a phone to talk to you over the summer in a more conventional way;

And they literally called you every single day while they spent their summer away in Denmark, visiting relatives;

You can only imagine how much they had to pay for all those international phone calls...

Let's get one thing straight, Jace has always been adorable.

BUT HIM DURING YOUR THIRD YEAR AT HOGWARTS??

HELLO??

Puberty hits this boy LIKE A TRUCK;

He looks so soft with that short fluffy hair and THE CURLS;

He also grows taller than you with half a foot;

To your (and everyone else's) mind, he was literally perfect - unapproachable;

People started calling him the school's prince, AND UNDERSTANDABLY SO;

Third year is a busy time for both of you - the try-outs for the Quidditch team are in full swing, and Jace lands himself the position of chaser (Luke follows you shortly the following year as your new keeper);

He quickly becomes the star of the Gryffindor team;

Girls swoon over him and his "sexy dimples";

You make fun of him for that and he blushes profusely, saying that he "doesn't like anyone like that anyway";

He literally sucks at Charms and Transfiguration, and he uses that to his advantage to get closer to you, since you excel at those subjects;

HIS LOVE LANGUAGE IS PHYSICAL TOUCH AND ACTS OF SERVICE;

Jace is so, so respectful of you though, he drinks that women respekt juice every single day; he wouldn't dare touch you if you weren't comfortable with that;

If you are just as touchy feely as he is, he LOVES having a protective hand thrown over you;

He has his own insecurities regarding his paternity rumours - The Targaryens are the embodiment of those very old pure-blooded families who still believe that muggleborns and half-bloods shouldn't "mix and match";

This is why Rhaenyra is even married with Laenor (who is obviously gay, and in the same predicament as she is, due to his family - bless him) and not Harwin Strong, Jace's actual father;

He feels trapped in his own family heritage, and feels so guilty when he catches himself thinking about escaping it sometimes;

Due to all that, Jace has a tendency to over-work himself and try to be in too many places at once;

You manage to level him and bring him back to earth - when he's with you, he forgets about his worries and he's so, SO GRATEFUL;

He falls in love with you during your 3d year at Hogwarts, but doesn't realise it until the very end of your 4th year (denial is a river in Egypt...);

Speaking of your 4th year, you have a small fall-out with Jace during that time, due to the fact that he gets his first girlfriend;

She's an exchange student from Ilvermorny, and she doesn't approve of your friendship one bit (oops);

Jacaerys tries to be the perfect gentleman with both of you, and fulfil both his "friend" duties, and his "boyfriend" ones;

Unfortunately, the perfect balance he figures out is ruined the moment you come to him with an emergency, and he completely forgets about the dinner date he had with his girl;

She breaks up with him the next day, telling him that he shouldn't use people to get over others;

And he's so confused, bless his heart;

"W... That's not... That's not what that was about!";

He feels really guilty for making his ex feel that way, and eventually figures out a way to make it up to her enough to stay friends;

Jacaerys is honestly the perfect ex LMAO;

Don't hate the player, hate the game;

His face completely falls when they brew Amorentia in Potions class and the whole place starts smelling like you;

But he STILL denies it for a while;

Psh, please, so many girls in this school could wear your exact perfume.

Right?

... right?

Jace is a very, very determined person. And once he sets his sight on someone, it's on;

You can bet the moment he hugs you goodbye at the train station, he's gonna think all summer about you and your beautiful soft hair;

Bonus: Jace's Boggart is a random manifestation of his loved ones dying - the worst one for him to face is yours;

☆ Aegon Targaryen ☆

Aegon doesn't care much about you at first;

He knows you're his younger brother's and nephew's "little girlfriend", and honestly doesn't see what's so great about you;

That is until you have a heart to heart with him when he's drunk out of his mind in Hogsmeade one day, during his 6th year (and your 4th one);

He was passed out into the snow, and you - beautiful, angelic you - came to his swift rescue;

He feels your warm hands touch his cheeks and forehead, and your own trench-coat cover him;

You lead him to the castle, and give him your coughing syrup that your parents packed for a quick pick-me-up;

"What's this?"

"It's cough syrup. For when your throat is sore."

"My throat isn't sore."

"Yet."

He becomes completely obsessed with you after that - and shows it to you in the harmless ways that he knows how;

Endless teasing, big and small pranks, small anonymous gifts;

His love language is gift giving and physical touch, so expect a lot of both, even if you aren't comfortable with that;

He is so thirsty for attention - even more so for your approval;

But he'll never admit it;

Still, if he happens to overhear that you like boys with short hair, he'll cut his hair short;

If he hears you like that soft boy aesthetic, that's exactly what he'll aspire to look like;

Unlike his younger brother and your other suitor, Aegon doesn't play Quidditch;

He'd much rather watch from the sidelines, thank you very much, and cause trouble while enjoying a cold butterbeer;

And unlike his baby brother, Aegon goes crazy with cheering for your victories (and even your losses when he's very drunk);

"HELL YEAH, (Y/N), THAT'S MY GIRL, WOOOO!"

"You do realise we lost... right?"

"... Oh."

"And I'm not your girl."

"... YET!"

The latter doesn't happen as often as you'd think;

It's cheesy, but you really do change him for the better. Slowly yet surely;

His support and affection for you goes as far as denying support for his own house.

"BOOO, FOUL PLAY!! THAT SEEKER SHOULD GET A RED CARD, HE PUSHED (Y/N) INTO THE OLD ARENA!"

"Aegon, that's the Hufflepuff Seeker..."

"..."

"..."

"BOOO!! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THESE THINGS?"

It's kind of obvious to everyone that he's also in love with you;

Except for you, since that's a theme;

You take his flirting as just that - Aegon flirting.

He gives you flowers on your birthday and a very expensive necklace with his initial on the back? - Nah, that's just how Aegon is.

He asks you out? - Nah, that's just how Aegon is.

He only dates girls who have a resemblance to you? - Nah, that's just how Aegon is.

Everyone gives you judgy looks when you say those things;

Aemond and Jacaerys are the only ones who are sort of glad you don't realise the depth of his feelings tbh;

You can bet Aegon and Aemond fight a lot because of you LMAO;

Oh, I'm sorry, you thought their relationship was bad before you entered the picture? Have a look at it now that Aegon's also courting you;

"You are so spoiled."

"I'm sorry? It was just a necklace. I don't understand why you're so pissed off about it."

"You know I love her."

"Are you dating her?"

"Hmm."

snickering "I'll take that as a no, then"

"Why is it that you feel the need to go after everything I want?"

"Easy there, brother, she's not your property or something."

"She's mine."

"You've known her for five years and you've done nothing to court her."

"Not everyone sleeps around on the first fucking date."

"Some people go after what they want. I warmly suggest you start doing the same."

"You aren't worthy enough of her. You never will be."

"... We'll see."

Bonus: Aegon has a moving picture of you and him in his wallet and sometimes talks to it when his life at home gets too hard;

Now this could be cute and sad at the same time, if not for that fact that Alicent caught him reciting a love poem to it once and Aegon panicked so hard, he pretended he was schizophrenic so she'd leave him alone;

She didn't, in fact, leave him alone;

He had to go to three different psychiatrists over the summer, to confirm that he was okay;