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#it's still christmas in here so i hope you have a great time a great life and eat something nice!!!!!
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Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 1
Here's the new story! I hope y'all like it.
Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood
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The New Year was upon them.  The castle was bustling with maids and squires decorating and scrambling to get everything ready in time. The halls were filled up with garlands, pinecones, dried oranges, berries, and candles lit every ten feet.  A large tree had been hauled into the great hall during Christmas Time and decorated with the same oranges, berries and pinecones, as well as ornamental pieces that shone through the branches in the candlelight.  The last seasonal ball was to be held in a few days time, and the noble families from all over the Isles had traveled in to be part of the festivities.
Princess Y/N watched the chaos in boredom as her little brother Prince Alfred, or Alfie,  ran around the room with a stream of ribbon in hand, singing holiday songs at the top of his lungs.  As much as she loved and adored him their age difference was definitely apparent during these moments.  “I watched three ships come sailing in on Christmas day on Christmas day…”
“Alfie if you sing that wretched song one more time I will–”
“You will do nothing,” her mother, Queen Eugenia interrupted as she walked into the great hall to inspect the decorations.  “After all these years of training, you still resort to violence, you ridiculous child.”
“And you still call me a child when I near my thirtieth year, Mother,” Y/N spat back.  “Perhaps my penchant for violence comes from my frustration with said training and the constant degradation of my age and ability.”
“Your petulance and independence has made you unmarriable and therefore a thorn in my side,” Eugenia sighed.  
“There have been no, as you and Father called them, “suitable” suitors to marry me off to, Mother.  And this,” she held out her hand, opening her palm, wherein a green orb of light appeared, “scares you both to death.”
“Put your hand away!” Eugenia ran over and slapped Y/N’s hand down before anyone could see.  “Stop being so careless!”
Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Yes, Mother.”
Eugenia sat next to her.  “You will attend tonight’s ball, dressed appropriately, with a smile on your ungrateful face and nothing but patient, polite mannerisms escaping that mouth of yours.  And you will not play tricks,” she looked pointedly at Y/N’s hands.
Y/N glared at her.  “Yes, Mother.”
Eugenia sighed again.  “Go get ready.”
Y/N left the great hall as Alfie continued singing away.  Her lady’s maid followed her as she roamed the halls towards her room.  The only ones who knew about her ability were her family, the royal advisory court and her lady’s maid.  No one had been able to figure out what to do with it.  She didn’t have a handle on it, either.  She could manipulate objects and people’s bodies to move how she wanted, heal minor injuries, and when touching someone she was able to see their thoughts and feel their feelings.  She could feel that there was something more to it, that her power had the potential to grow, and yet she and her ability had been tamped down so heavily from the moment she first started exhibiting it that she was unable to truly hone it and see what she was capable of.  The advisors had researched their history and fairy tale books extensively and could not find a rhyme or reason as to why she had this power.  The only reason she had not been burned at the stake as a witch was because her father thought it could be useful to him and his never ending battle against the Norsemen.
Y/N had only seen one Norseman in her entire life.  Her father had captured one after a horrible battle and brought him back from the battlefield.  He was what they called a Berserker, a Norseman warrior that would lose all sense of self-preservation and run into battle like a feral animal, like they were out of their minds and drunk with bloodlust.  Her father had put them in a room together, separated by a line of thin prison bars.  The Norseman didn’t try to attack her, just watched her intently.  Her father told her to try her powers on him, see what she could make him do.  Y/N had refused, so her father flogged her to try and make her submit.  The Norseman had become so incensed by her father’s mistreatment that he had broken through the bars, bending them like they were butter, and just as he was about to lay his hands on her father she threw her hands up.  The Norseman was encircled in the green light, stopping him midair.  Her father gave the first genuine smile towards her she had seen in years.  
The guards had shackled him and took him away shortly after that.  The look in his eyes as they dragged him away was one of shock and betrayal.  Y/N couldn’t stand it, and that night snuck through the castle to the dungeon.  She had found secret passages as a child that she used regularly, and slipped through undetected.  She stole the keys and found his cell.  He was awake, and when he heard the jingle of the keys he looked up at her.  His eyes widened and he scurried towards the farthest wall from her.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” Y/N had whispered, holding her hands up.  He watched her carefully as she unlocked the door and swung it open.  She had stepped away, giving him room to leave.  He had slowly walked out of the cell, watching her constantly.  He stepped away towards the nearest exiting door.  “Run,” she whispered as she backed away from him, keeping her hands up.
He stopped for a moment.  He cleared his throat and asked in perfect English, “Are you a witch?”
Y/N had blinked at him in surprise.  “I…I don’t know,” she answered honestly.  This man could kill her in a second without making a sound, and yet he merely nodded.  “Thank you, Drottning,” he bowed his head to her then ran off towards the door.
Y/N had never seen or heard from him again.  The castle had been abuzz with confusion and fear upon finding him missing the next morning, but they ultimately decided that the barbarian had his ways and wasn’t worth pursuing. 
Y/N had never trusted her father again after that day, and had steered clear of him whenever and however she could.  He only wanted her for her power and what it could do for him.  He didn’t love her, he didn’t love Alfie.  He was a true English King, hoarding power and wealth wherever he could.
Y/N dressed in her holiday best for the ball and begrudgingly entered the great hall later that night.  The party was in full swing, nobles dancing together as the music played, the King and Queen laughing madly at the jester performing in front of them.  The wine was flowing, making the crowd more rowdy by the second.  As Y/N ascended the stage where the King and Queen sat she saw two short legs poking out and found Alfie hiding behind the Queen’s wide throne chair.  She quickly walked over and pulled him into her arms.  “What are you doing here, Alfie?  It’s late, and this is no place for a young boy,” she scolded him.
“Papa said I had to be here, because I’m to be king, and this is what kings do,” he mumbled.  Y/N glared over at her father, who was drinking himself into a stupor.  Alfie was a mere 11 years old, and already her father was trying to sink his dirty claws into the little boy’s mind and heart.
“No, Alfie, this is not how kings should act,” Y/N reassured him as she ran her fingers through his hair.  “Let’s get you to bed.”
Suddenly there was a loud bang and a whistling as wind whipped through the hall from where the front doors burst open.  A thunderous roar from what seemed like hundreds of men swarming the hall filled the room, echoing through the high ceilings and making Alfie cover his ears.  Y/N held him close as she huddled behind the throne, concealing him and herself as best as possible.  There were shouts and screams from the nobles as the men started to cut many of them down, pushing and beating others as they made their way to the stage.
The King and Queen sat in shocked silence as they watched their guards and nobles die or be captured around them.  Y/N glanced around looking for an escape and saw men standing in the higher windows, pointing arrows at the royals.  She knew they were seen and so any attempt to run would be met with death.  
Heavy footsteps walked up the stage steps, and before she could even move large hands were hefting her and Alfie from behind the chair.  They ripped Alfie from her arms and she screamed, trying to get ahold of him again as he cried and tried to grab for her.  Y/N’s body was wrenched around and she came face to face with a familiar looking man.
“Hello, Drottning, remember me?” the Norseman from years earlier smiled at her.
“You!” Y/N breathed as her eyes widened.
The Norseman chuckled as he led her to the front of the stage to stand next to her Mother and Father who sat dumbfounded on their thrones, Alfie on the other side of them being held back by another man.  Y/N looked around and even through her fear was struck by the attractive nature of these men.  Most of them were spattered in blood and sweat from fighting, and yet she had never seen so many handsome men.  The yelling started to die down as one Norseman walked forward, assumedly the leader, the rest of them parting to let him through.  The one approaching her and her family was easily one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life.  His long, dark brown hair was half tied back with braids that had ornaments of beads and metal cuffs attached to them.  His full beard was cut neatly and framed his pink lips, which were stretched into a menacing smirk.  His blue eyes shone bright like the ocean just after a storm, and she could see the mischievous glint in them as he scanned the family.  He was covered in Norse battle gear from just under his jaw to his feet, a large sheathed sword on his right side and a war hammer at his left.  His left arm was bare, and upon further inspection Y/N realized it wasn’t flesh, but some kind of metal, yet it looked and functioned like a normal arm.  He was huge, like all the other men, tall and broad.  His eyes settled on her and he appraised her, giving her a long look up and down.  Y/N straightened herself under his stare, refusing to bow or show weakness to him.  His smirk deepened at her as he looked back at her parents.
“King Henry, Queen Eugenia,” he greeted them in a deep, booming voice.  “I am James Barnes, Jarl of the Danes, or Norsemen as you like to call us.”  He nonchalantly took a half eaten pastry off the table closest to him and popped it in his mouth, chewing it slowly.  “What a lovely party.  We missed our invitation,” he said with a sly smile, making his men laugh heartily around him.
Henry just couldn’t help himself as he stood up.  “You aren’t wanted, heathens!  Leave immediately!”
“Now now, Henry, is that any way to speak to the ones who have conquered you?” James admonished him.  “I’ve come to make peace, and you want to scream insults?”
Y/N silently gasped.  Peace?  With the Norsemen?  
“Make peace?  While you murder my nobles and threaten my family?  That’s preposterous,” Henry scoffed.  Y/N glared at her father, silently wishing for him to shut up.
“Well you could either choose peace, or watch the rest of your nobles and your family die, starting with your heir,” James threatened, glancing at Alfie.  Y/N squirmed against the Norseman behind her at the threat.  “And we’ll make some stops along the way to some of your most prosperous cities and take what we need.  The choice is yours.”
“That’s no choice!” Henry yelled and then started to move towards James.  “You wretched, barbaric–”
A whistle sounded through the hall as an arrow was loosed.  It flew straight towards Alfie’s chest.  Y/N’s hand yanked out of the Norseman’s hand that was holding her and stretched toward her brother as she screamed, “NO!”
The arrow stopped, hovering right in front of Alfie’s heart, surrounded by the green light.  The men gasped, James staring at Y/N with an awestruck smile on his face.  “So it’s true,” he whispered.  Y/N flicked her wrist and the arrow went flying towards the wall and shattered.  Before she could even drop her hand James was in front of her.  He looked at the Norseman holding her back and nodded to him.  “Thor, is this the English witch of royal blood who freed you?”
The man behind her nodded and lightly shoved her into his arms.  James held her by her arms and looked down at her.  “What’s your name, Princess?”
Y/N could only stare at his bright blue eyes, her heart hammering in her chest at exposing herself and her ability.  “Y/N,” she whispered.  
“Y/N,” he repeated it like it was a prayer.  “I’ve been talking to the wrong person.”  He pulled her forward to face her family.  “Henry, you’ve been hiding something,” he chuckled as he plopped his chin on her shoulder so they were cheek to cheek and ran his fingers up and down her arms, the metal ones sending chills up her spine.  “She’s the one with power, not you.”  Henry glared at her, a hateful look on his face.  “Oh, I see,” James’ voice became sharper.  “You feel threatened by her, so you’ve hid her away, stomped on her potential to grow,” Y/N was nearly shaking as she felt the adrenaline rush through her.  “She’s a goddess among you pathetic royals,” he kissed the side of her head, “and you wanted to reduce her to a torture device.  You let the magic go to waste.”  He turned her towards him again and dipped his face to be at eye level with her.  “We have magic at home.  We can help you learn and grow,” Y/N’s eyes widened at him.  “So I ask you, Princess Y/N.  What do you choose, death or peace?”
Y/N exhaled a shaky breath as she stared at him.  As he touched her she let her ability slip into his mind.  She could find no lie in his words.  He and his people were tired, the constant war depleting their resources and wiping out families.  They won the battles more often than lost, but it had put a strain on their lives.  His mention of magic seemed real, too, with glimpses and flashes of things that were unexplainable popping up in his mind.  Y/N thought about her people and how the English had been begging for peace for years as well, all of it falling on her father’s greedy, prideful ears.  She could tell James was good, and only wanted good for his men and his people.
“I propose an allyship,” she said.  James blinked and his eyebrows furrowed at her.  “A peace treaty with a tradition as old as time,” she clarified, gulping quickly.  “We join our families in marriage.”  His eyes flicked between hers, like he was studying her.  His men around him mumbled as they considered the idea.  “If you are unmarried,” she amended, since she wasn’t sure, “or if someone in your nobility is unmarried, I will come with you as a peace offering, a marriage tribute.  You will have me, and my power, and leave my family and my people be,” she said, trying to look and sound every bit the princess her mother had always wanted her to be.  “And we will end this war and finally bring peace to our people.”
James stood straight, towering over her.  He watched her for another moment, then stepped back and looked to his men behind him.  Two of them walked up and spoke to him quietly.  Y/N waited on baited breath as they consulted with each other.  They stood back and he turned toward her again.  “Done,” he said simply, the smirk returning to his lips.  Y/N nodded and quietly sighed.  “My Drottning,” he spoke lowly, holding out his metal hand.  She put her right hand into his metal hand, admiring it.  
“What does that mean?” she asked him.
“My Queen,” he winked at her.  Y/N blushed deeply.  He turned to his men and held her hand up high in his.  “We have peace!” he yelled triumphantly.  The thunderous roar returned as they cheered, their hands and swords and axes held high as they hugged each other and drank some of the wine left on the tables around them.  James dropped their joined hands and kissed the hand he held, making her blush again.  “Say goodbye to your family, Drottning, we leave immediately.”
He let her go and she ran up the stairs towards her family.  She ignored her parents altogether, grabbing Alfie and holding him tight against her.  
“Don’t go,” Alfie cried as his fingers clutched her dress.
“I have to,” Y/N cried as she carded her fingers through his hair.  “You listen to me,” she knelt in front of him and held his face in her hands, “you remember what I’ve taught you.”  He nodded frantically.  “Do not listen to Father,” he nodded again, making her father sneer at them next to her.  “I’ve seen it in you,” she whispered, laying a hand against his heart then tapping her finger to her head.  “You will become one of the greatest kings England has ever known, as long as you don’t do as Father has done.  You will bring continued peace and prosperity, you hear me?”  She wiped his tears away.  “Because you are a good boy, and will become a great man.  My little king,” she kissed his forehead firmly before pulling away.
Alfie cried harder as she stepped away from him.  She turned to her father.  “Stay away from him,” she warned him, glancing at Alfie.  “I have procured a peace that you, and your father, and your father’s father could never have dreamed of,” she sneered back at him.  “Do good by our people, for once in your miserable life.”  She glared at him before turning back towards James who stood patiently waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.  
His men were slowly retreating out of the great hall as he held his hand out for her again.  She took it as he flashed one last glance and triumphant smile at her father before leading her out the front doors.  As they walked through the courtyard and towards the horses waiting for them he glanced at her attire.
“Hm, this won’t do while riding,” he said as he twirled her around.  Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him.  “Where’s your lady’s maid?”
Y/N looked around and saw the telltale eyes peeking from behind the stables.  “May,” she pointed.
James summoned her forward out of hiding.  She quickly ran across the courtyard and into Y/N’s arms, sobbing as Y/N pet her hair.  “Miss May, go fetch your princess’ riding clothes and some simple dresses for travel,” James instructed her.  May stared at him with wide eyes, looking at Y/N who nodded to her.  She was escorted back inside with Thor to get Y/N’s things packed.
As they stood there waiting, the snow started to fall.  Y/N looked up and sighed as the cold kissed her face, a welcome reprieve to her inflamed cheeks from the night’s tension.  She looked towards James who was already looking at her.
“What do I call you?” she asked him.  
“You can call me Bucky,” he said.
“Bucky?” she asked, a small smirk pulling her lips.
“A nickname,” he laughed at her perplexed look.  “Saved for those closest to me.  And since you’ll be my queen–”
“So it is you I’ll be marrying then?”  Y/N asked.
“Yes,” Bucky laughed harder.  “I guess I didn’t make that very clear.”
“Hm,” Y/N hummed.  “You have a very English name...James.”
“Yes,” he agreed, sighing as he looked at the falling snowflakes.  “We Norsemen and you Anglo-Saxons are not that different from each other,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he winked at her again.  
Y/N pondered that as May came out holding Y/N’s riding clothes and boots with Thor holding a small trunk that he loaded onto one of the wagons they had waiting.  May ran back to Y/N.
“Go change, and then we’ll be off,” Bucky excused Y/N, who led May over to the stables.  They went into an empty bay and May quickly stripped Y/N out of her gown and into her riding clothes.
“My lady,” May said as she held Y/N’s crown in her hands.  Y/N looked at it and gingerly took it from her.  She stared at it for a moment before giving it back to her.  She gave May another hug.  
“Take it, my love,” she said as May sobbed in her arms again.  “Run away and marry that stable boy, Ben, and use it to live long happy lives together,” she said as she pulled away.
May nodded as she cried, gathering up the gown as she said goodbye.
Y/N came back out in her riding clothes.  She approached Bucky who was preparing his horse.  He mounted it and held his hand out to her.  She took it and he helped hoist her behind him on the saddle.  He wrapped her hands around his waist then she felt him tying her wrists together.
“What–” she started, trying to look over his shoulder.
“So you don’t run off,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her in warning as he looked back at her.
“I won’t,” Y/N promised.
“That’s what they all say,” Bucky chuckled before he turned to his men who were all waiting.  “To Danmark!!”
“To Danmark!” they all yelled, and the pounding of hooves rang through the night as they all rode out of the courtyard and into the English countryside.
Y/N’s arms tightened around Bucky, her head tucking in between his shoulder blades as the winter wind stung her face.  She was not going to run and wanted to prove it to him.  She wanted peace, even if it meant giving up herself to get it. After about an hour they all started to slow as they reached the water’s edge where multiple ships were docked, secured by other Norsemen who waited anxiously for them.
Bucky untied the rope around her wrists then dismounted.  He held his hands up to her hips and helped her down as well.  He inspected her wrists, giving them a short rub.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to each wrist.  Y/N was surprised at his affection, but welcomed it in the moment.  He pulled her towards one of the boats.  He helped her step onto it and settled her into a corner of the stern that was covered in furs and quilts.  He pulled one of the furs up and covered her with it, securing it around her shoulders.  There was plenty of room around her as she got herself comfortable.
“It’s going to be a four day journey, Drottning,” Bucky kneeled in front of her.  “This area is for all of us to sleep, so you’ll have at least a few men next to you, but don’t fear,” he reassured her at the look on her face, “they’re harmless.  Just tired.”
Y/N looked around at the men loading themselves into the boat, many of them taking seats at the benches where the oars were sitting.  She felt worried but nodded at him.  He gave her a smile and stepped away to help load more things into the boats.  They all worked methodically together until in just a few minutes they were ready to pull off.  Bucky was stationed at one of the oars as well, giving the signal and they shoved off the shore.
Y/N watched the men in her boat and the others row in perfect unison.  She admired their strength and the way they all seemed to be of one mind as they worked together to get into a good rhythm, making the boat fly through the water.  The rhythmic rowing lulled her to sleep as she snuggled down into the furs below her.
She woke a few hours later.  It was still dark out, the rowing still going strong.  As she shifted to get more comfortable she felt a heavy weight around her waist.  She panicked until she turned and saw Bucky’s peaceful face sleeping next to her, his metal arm resting on her side.  Y/N looked down at the arm.  She admired its craftsmanship, unsure of how he was able to find or create such a thing.  Her fingers traced along the metal, the plates and divots carved like the muscles of a real arm would be.  When she reached his hand she lightly traced each finger with the tip of her pointer finger.  His hand suddenly moved to grasp her wrist.  She gasped as he gently maneuvered her to face him.  His eyes were still closed as he let go of her wrist then wound his metal arm around her back this time, holding her to his chest.  “Sleep, wife,” he mumbled, his voice coming out hoarsely as he kissed her forehead and rested his chin on top of her head.  
Y/N was stiff for a moment until the warmth enveloped her and she melted into his embrace.  She pressed her nose into his sternum and breathed deeply as her hands gripped the fur coat he was wearing.  He hummed as his breathing evened out and a soft snore rumbled in his chest.  It lulled her to sleep again, a small smile on her face.
**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**
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fafrogke · 4 months
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i did these bc i got inspired from some tags i got some months ago ehehe
im pretty sure the quality is going to die but when i flipped the canvas is like they're dancing go white boy go
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respondedinkind · 5 months
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|| I finally wrote my headcanon for Khan's aging process and ohmygod it turned out so long, unsure if anyone will ever read it LOL but - I am so happy I wrote it. Will have dinner now and then post it.
It just gives me a heartache because of some aspects of it and I just have A LOT of Khan feelings ok. ;;
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arthur-r · 1 year
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my fire opal converse arrived i’m screaming
#/hyperbole but the color is so perfect#i spent around twenty seconds screaming in a bad way because of how friggin white they are it scares me#like i don’t want to ruin them. i have owned two pairs of not-hand-me-down sneakers in my life and this is one of them#and so then i felt like a terrible person for doing purchases and wanting things and not just sticking with my old hand me down red converse#which are too small for me now and literally stained with blood. and also mud but the blood is the problem part#anyway mal blum voice oh my god look at all the stuff you got does it make your loneliness more bearable#but genuinely it kind of does. they’re my exact color it’s ridiculous guys. like it’s the color of my walls exactly#and they will make me taller so i can actually see at concerts and in the school hallway. and i’ll keep them forever#(this was an early christmas present from me to myself i put a bunch of tip money on my debit card and bought myself the shoes i’ve wanted)#they are custom because the color doesn’t come in regular converse you have to get a custom fall colors pair so i did#and so they’re lift platforms with a gold star logo patch and stripey gold and white laces it’s really cool#anyway they were supposed to arrive in time for the happy fits concert and they didn’t. but the concert didnt even happen for me so whatever#good news!!!! daisy the great is coming back this april on their first headlining tour it’s gonna be so cool#no news on the happy fits and i really want to see them and also meet them but they did say something about how they can’t wait to be back#so i hope that comes sooner rather than later and that i’m still minneapolis-adjacent enough to go#or i guess i might have to go to a show in chicago!! we grow and change with the times#anyway i’m kind of disjointed cause i woke up recently and also have been in an anxious spiral for like a week but we’re managing great#playing sudoku and being parented by my dad which means: sitting alone in my room with the door closed for hours on end#so i’m here if anybody needs me!! usually dad parenting comes with caring for my sister but she has gymnastics today so i’m like. here#anyway yeah i have these bright red-orange converse with gold on them and i’m gonna cry#i’ll post a picture soon if i’m feeling up to it they’re really exciting like almost enough to fix me#like it’s literally my color. it’s the color that i am. i’m going slightly insane about this (is insane already)#and i painted my electric guitar with nail polish so now the tuning pegs are sparkly red and it’s just a good time for the arthur community#period-induced paranoia that i thought i was done with put aside. and general anxiety put aside. the arthur community is doing great#do y’all remember mononokay by sorority noise? the arthurcore song? it still is. i’m listening to it rn and it still is#anyway idk what to say. i’m here and things are weird but i’m going back to school on monday and it won’t be as weird anymore. i hope#and i cleaned my room like actually deep cleaned it and it’s fixed now. my room is actually good now. how did that happen#anyway i want to go home but i am home. i should also eat breakfast. yeah. so i will do that now. yep#me. my post. mine.#friends only
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slvtforfiction · 5 months
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Jake Webber smut where he tells you to sit on his face. That would be soooo hot
“Sit,don’t hover.”
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☆ Omg anon,ur amazing
☆ Lots of love
☆ Jake Webber X Reader
☆ Pandemic times!
☆ Smut
☆ Masterlist
☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (if requests are open.)
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
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"Fine, no orgasms and no sex for a week." He told me.
"Does that include masturbating?" I asked him with an innocent smile.
"Yes,Y/n." He snapped back.
Now how did we get here?
Well...
The break down of it being I was being a brat, which then led to him on top of me pinning me down before that sentence left his mouth.
Easy challenge,he will give up so easily, he loves it as much as I do and he won't last 3 days.
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Day 1;
We still cuddled up to each other last night but other than that nothing,I gave him 2 days more and he will for sure break.
Day 2;
I barely saw him at all today,he had something to do with Johnnie but I thought when he got home he would have broken that pact,turns out I was wrong.
I'm sticking with my initial impression with 24hours left though.I'm struggling and he seems to be just fine.
It’s killing me to see how easy he thinks this is when I’m beyond tempted to pull a vibrator out of my drawer.
Day 3;
This is killing me,I thought he would have given up, but he hasn't,he hasn't even mentioned it and it's driving me insane.
I can't give up though,l bragged about it to him all day after his said that saying that I would last so much more than him.
Im as stubborn as he is and he knows it.
Day 4;
I'm fucked,he keeps grabbing my thighs and I'm melting,he knows it.
I didn't think he'd last this long,sometimes I can hear him in the kitchen talking to Colby about the challenge and how easy it is.
Day 5;
2 days left and I think Jake will break,he was talking to Colby earlier about how hard it was for him,metaphorically and physically.
Turn of events from yesterday then,I thought to myself with a smile.
He got hard last night,I felt him pressing into me I hoped he was giving up,but nope.
Day 6;
I give up.
He pressed his back into me,his hard on pressing into my ass.
He grabbed something from the cupboard above me in the kitchen and then moved away from me trying to palm himself from the painful boner he wasn't trying particularly hard to hide.
Maybe I won't have to give up?
Maybe he will.
I can only hope.
"Mh how about you fuck me? I know you have a hard on."I told him teasingly.
"You know I can't." He told me continuing to cook.
"Well how about you give up the challenge? You don't want blue balls." I told him with a sly grin forming.
"Fuck off Y/n." He told me angrily.
I smiled and walked away to the sofa reading a book that Kat had gave me for Christmas.
During the Pandemic,christmas wasn't a great time for everyone,very scary at the least.
I heard the oven being switched off but I didn't dare to turn around,so I kept my head buried in my book.
"Stop fucking reading that book and give up the challenge." Jake said into my ear from behind me clearly wanting to fuck.
"Mh,I don't think I will." I told him with a smile slapped across my face before returning to my book.
"You want this as bad as me,I know you do Y/n,I heard you talking to Kat." He told me.
Now I can't lie I did talk to Kat about how I was struggling but I didn't realise Jake was listening behind us.
"And I heard you talking to Colbs,not to mention how you've pressed 2 hard ons into my back side just begging for my attention." I smiled back at him dragging out the 'begging' and turning around to look at him leaving my book on the coffee table.
I hummed at his response of gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.
God he looks beautiful.
I snapped out of it before kissing his Addams apple.
"Hm I'll give up if I can top?" I hummed looking at him. "No,Y/n,Just give up now." He snapped getting extremely sexually frustrated.
I hummed at his response as if saying no and then walked off to the bedroom.
He followed behind me and sat on the bed before I could. “I give up,sit on my face.” He said.
And I smiled turning around,more of a nervous smile to be honest. “What?” I asked unsure if I heard him correctly.
“You heard me,strip and sit.” He told me and I smiled,turning around as I took off my leggings and panties,walking over to the bed where he lied.
I sat on top of the prominent imprint on his trousers,moving my hips around as I smiled at him teasingly.
“Do you give up the challenge?” I asked him,grinding and grinning on top of him. “Yes,for fucks sake,stop being a brat.” He said and with that he lifted my body above him and sat me down on his face.
I lifted myself off slightly not wanting to suffocate him “Sit,don’t hover.” He told me,his voice sending shivers down my spine as the vibrations hit my pussy.
I sat down as he immediately started to lap at my clit. I moaned out of pleasure,my pent up sexual tension leaving my body as I relaxed.
He slipped his tongue in and out of my hole,my body feeling as if I was in heaven.
I relaxed further as he pumped his tongue in and out,his hands holding up my hips as I let him take full control.
“Jake please!” I all but screamed as I felt the knot in my stomach tighten,knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop it from snapping soon enough.
“Cum for me love.” He told me as I came on his face,riding through my high on his tongue.
“Jake please,too much.” I whimpered out as he continued his movements.He flipped me over,his head resting between my thighs as he continued.
I grabbed a hold of his hair,pulling him further into me and simultaneously pushing him away.
I came undone on his tongue again,riding through my high on his face as he let me down gently.
He kissed my thighs as I whined out,the subspace staying engraved into my mind.
He walked into the bathroom to grab a wet cloth to wash his face and clean up my thighs.
He tried his best to gently clean me up,apologising whenever he hit an especially sensitive area.
He laid down next to me,pulling me into his chest and taking his hands through my hair.
“You lost.” I laughed weakly at him as I smiled up at his looking into his eyes.
“Yeah but I’ve won the most beautiful girlfriend in the world.” He told me as he held my head close to him,pulling the covers up with his other hand.
“Go to sleep princess,you deserve it.” He said with a smile,I knew I would make it up to him in the morning I thought as I drifted off.
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latetaektalk · 21 days
Text
love to hate you | jjk [viii]
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“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!
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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.
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“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.)
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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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. 
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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?
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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.
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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. 
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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.
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→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!
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947 notes · View notes
tealfloyd · 10 months
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ANONYMOUS REQUESTED:
"Okay, okay! Hear me out on this: An MC who gifts every boy and the staff (minus Crowley) a specially made gift (alongside chocolate ofc) for Valentine's Day. For example, Riddle gets a bouquet of roses alongside heart-shaped chocolate, Ace getting a chocolate cherry pie and a watch, and Cater gets a skateboard and spicy chocolate.
I can just imagine the chaos that will ensue.
"Hey! Your chocolate is bigger than mine!"
"No fair! I wanted that too!"
Thank you and have a great day!"
AN UNTYPICAL VALENTINE’S
“Congratulations, MC. You have now become the Santa of Valentine’s Day!”
SUMMARY: It's Valentine's Day in Twisted Wonderland, and you already know what that means: a mix of chocolates and petty discussions~! (Everyone x Fem!Reader)
WARNINGS: None... Other than MC’s empty wallet.
CONTENT: Ortho doesn’t have a section, but his reaction is described in the introduction. Me trying to understand these boys and their past, so they might seem a little ooc. Also Lilia’s part may have end up a little too philosophical. 
A/N: Okay okay. I know Valentine’s was five months ago, and that I was in an unexpected hiatus for more than six months, but I just really wanted to post this because this draft was eating me alive. Also, I don’t know why, but Pomefiore’s part was so difficult to write, and thus, I ended up giving up temporarily.
Annnd, I know that the request asked for the staff as well, but I didn’t want to make this longer than it already is, so I decided I will post it separately. Eventually.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! :)
WORDS: 10K+
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Ah, Valentine’s Day. A lively festivity that encompasses love and friendship, usually celebrated by those who want to demonstrate affection to the people they care about the most, being in a platonic or a romantic way.
Yet, that’s talking outside of Night Raven College, an academy that’s full of eccentric students, and so, on behalf of that eccentricity, things are a little bit different.
And it all starts with your protective and small companion, Grim.
You finished checking your bag for the last time before leaving, assuring that all the chocolates and gifts you packed were inside, afraid of forgetting any of them in the dorm.
“Sevens, how am I going to carry this...?” You murmured while staring at the huge sack that contained all of your presents, thinking that it resembled the bag that a certain character would only use every Christmas.
All you did was sigh, mentally preparing yourself to carry that seemingly heavy Santa bag.
Or at least that’s what you were going to do, until a sleepy voice stopped you from doing so, effectively getting your attention.
“Where are you going, henchman...?” Grim groggily asked, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. “And why do you have that bag...?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Grim’s drowsy expression as you approached him, scratching his head lightly. “You see, since today is Valentine’s, I wanted to make something special for our friends, so—” And before you could finish your sentence, an excited scream echoed from the old dorm, startling you both.
"Did someone say Valentine's?!" Conrad yelled, cheerfully floating around.
"This brings back so many great memories! I still remember all the chocolates I've received when I was alive. Such great days~" Brawley said, his mind consumed by memories from his past, all while wearing a nostalgic smile.
"Oh, what do we have here~?" Arthur asked, curiosity getting the best out of him as he picked some of the presents that were at the top. "Some gifts for your friends, perhaps~?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows in a funny manner.
Letting out a soft chuckle while trying to calm Grim down—who was certainly not happy after the abrupt appearance—, you answered. “Indeed, it’s Valentine’s after all. Do they meet your expectations?” You jokingly asked, prompting a playful laughter from the trio of ghosts.
“I absolutely approve them, but I don’t know if those students will.”
“It's obvious they will! She even has personalized chocolates for all of them!”
“That’s true... I wonder how long it took you to prepare all of this.”
They commented, starting a light chat about the festivity, all laughing and having fun. However, in between the funny remarks and jokes, Grim had enough, whining in annoyance as his brain tried its best to understand what was happening.
“What are ya’ talking about?” He complained, turning to look at you with an angry expression. “Henchman! Explain this madness!”
“Well, Grim,” you started, trying to find the correct words to clarify the meaning of this holiday to him. “Valentine’s Day is—“ Although it seemed that you didn’t have to in the first place, seeing that you were once again interrupted by your strangely excited fellows.
“Oh!”, Brawley exclaimed. “Can we explain it?”
“Yeah, we’re the best people, er- Ghosts when it comes to Valentine’s,” Arthur enthusiastically stated.
“Can we make the explanation, MC?” Conrad asked, and since you didn’t want to ruin their happiness, you agreed.
“The floor is yours,” and with that cue, they stood in front of a confused Grim, who looked at you with slight fear and overall confusion.
It took you a few moments to realize that they took it quite literally as you listened to their old-styled song about the festivity, which maybe overused the word “love” in a romantic way... Yet, it was a detail that you didn’t pay much attention to, instead deciding to enjoy the show.
But someone that didn’t take this lightly was Grim, being that a certain sentence was starting to repeat in his mind over and over again: “A day when love stories start! Who would be the next one to take this important step~?”
He was so alarmed that he missed the part where they explained that it was also a day to share with friends, so the first thing that passed through his head was: “They’re tryin’ to steal my henchman! I cannot let that happen!” 
And so, a genius idea was born.
“I’ll go with you, henchman!” He suddenly exclaimed, taking you by surprise, frowning in response.
“Really?” You inquired, and so did the ghosts, adding themselves to the confusion train while raising an eyebrow.
“What? I’m just sayin’ I’m going with you!” Grim repeated, further confusing you four.
“Yes, I heard that, but why...?”
“Why not?” Your companion said, avoiding answering since he knew you were going to tease him about it, instead choosing to walk towards the front door.
“Why though…?” You questioned for the last time, eyeing him with suspicion as you made your way towards the door, picking the bag—that was, to your surprise, much lighter than you thought—in the process.
“We don’t have time for this! If we hurry, we can come back in time for dinner!”
Now that was the Grim you remembered, and even if you never thought that hearing that sentence would make you relieved your wallet isn’t pleased to hear this though, this time it certainly did.
“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, turning to your translucent companions—who still had their mouths wide open, very much resembling to a cartoon—to wave them goodbye.
“Goodbye, guys! We will see you later! The song was amazing, by the way!” Was the last thing you said before closing the door, snapping the ghosts out of their trance.
“Aw! She loved our song!” Was the first thing Conrad said, happy that you liked their performance, not noticing the strange looks he received from the other two.
“Is he just going to ignore the fact that Grim seemed suspiciously protective over MC?” Arthur asked, and Brawley shook his head, disagreeing with him.
“It’s not weird that Grim is protective over her, that’s like a world-known fact,” he paused for a second, as if trying to think of the results of your sincere actions. “I’m more intrigued by how those boys would react upon receiving such a lovely gift from their oblivious love interest.”
And that, my dear Brawley, is what are we going to witness today.
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIRST STOP: HEARTSLABYUL
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Heartslabyul was your first dorm of choice, and that was because you knew everyone will be in the same place at the same time. It was supposed to be easy; go in and go out.
Yet, what was the first thing you heard when entering the dorm’s living room? Screams. Certainly one of the most welcoming sounds while stepping into a place that embraces the idea of discipline.
Seeing that the other students (or at least most of them) were minding their own business, you thought it was not that big of a deal. After greeting the ones that weren’t busy, you both walked over to the kitchen, encountering a not so peculiar scene: Riddle arguing with Ace.
"Guys?" You asked, eyebrow raised as you wondered what happened.
"Oh, Prefect!" Cater exclaimed, cheerfully approaching you. "Thanks for appearing! This situation was #stressingmeout," he commented, thankful for your presence.
"Prefect," Riddle said after coughing slightly, attempting to compose himself. "What brings you here?"
“Well, since I assume you already know what day it is, I thought it would be nice to gift you some chocolates,” you voiced, chuckled at the expressions of your friends as you gave them their respective presents, who were pretty much baffled to hear that. “Or maybe you don’t know, and the heart motifs everywhere are misleading.”
The ones that caught up the fastest were Trey and Cater what a surprise, promptly putting two and two together and realising the reason behind your sudden but cute action.
"Sevens, is it Valentine's already?" Trey questioned, placing a hand on his hat to cover his face due to the embarrassment.
"Are these for us~?" Cater excitedly asked, already pulling out his phone to document this moment. "They are totes cute! Thanks, Prefect!" He said, taking dozens of pictures of the little red box.
“Valentine’s...?” Deuce muttered, face turning pale after his brain clicked and realised what that meant. “I’m sorry, MC! I don’t have a present for you!” He quickly apologised, bowing before you.
"You don't have to give me anything, you know?" You assured, trying to ease his concern. "I just wanted to gift you all something as thanks for all your help and support, and for being my friends, of course."
And that is how you make the Heartslabyul (and pretty much anyone in NRC) students blush in mere seconds; if these guys weren’t blushing before, now they undoubtedly are.
"Yeah, yeah, enough of these speeches!" Grim chimed, wanting to move onto the next dorm already. "We don't have all day! Let's go, henchman!"
"Geez, what has got into you today?" You said, turning to the students to wave them goodbye. "I have to go now; I hope you liked the— Agh! Grim, stop pushing me!"
In an instant, the two of you departed, leaving behind five startled students who were speechless by the sudden turn of events.
Riddle’s heart-shaped chocolates match his new bouquet of red roses.
Riddle never had a Valentine’s Day celebration before. Mainly because his mom, being the main factor in his life, used to call the holiday a “disruptive event,” and so, he ended up thinking that Valentine’s was an unnecessary and dumb festivity. You can now assume he doesn't think that anymore. As everyone already guessed, this boy was red; in fact, if you inspected his face closely enough, you would notice that his cheeks were tinted with the same shade the flowers gifted to him had, which he used to cover his face. And don’t get me started when he saw the chocolates; he nearly dropped the box out of embarrassment, not believing that you were bold enough to give him heart-shaped chocolates... But it’s not like he’s complaining so please gift this boy more heart-shaped sweets.
Trey’s hazelnut chocolates match his new set of heart measuring spoons.
Trey doesn’t know how he could’ve possibly forgotten about Valentine’s; his family owns a bakery, by the Sevens! He must’ve had the date imprinted on his mind by now! He's just wondering how he didn't think about it before while looking at the gifts, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't have anything for you. Although... That doesn't mean he wouldn't focus on your kind-hearted present, after all, who could after receiving such a detailed gift of your dear romantic interest friend? Immediately after this, he knows that he has to make something for you as well; something to remind you how special you are. Hence, why his mind is in a whirlwind of ideas, contemplating which chocolate would best match your taste, and what’s better, he can use that cute set of spoons you just gifted him.
Cater’s spicy pumpkin chocolates match his new skateboard.
Cater was very aware that today was Valentine's Day. Like, it's Cater we're talking about. He literally spent the entire week thinking of gift ideas for a friend crush in order to find the perfect one for you. He just wasn't expecting for you to pull an uno reverse card on him, or at least not before he gave you your gift. Less to say that he was over the moon with this action; he already had a new wallpaper and ten new posts featuring his new possessions. He was so excited that he forgot he had something for you, and by the time he remembered you were already gone. He figures out he can drop by Ramshackle later, but it didn't take long for him to realise that everyone would have the same idea. Oh well, what a perfect occasion to have a new skateboard~.
Ace’s chocolate-covered cherries match his new frog watch.
Ace has never been a big fan of Valentine's. After breaking up with his first girlfriend, he ended up disliking the romantic idea of the holiday. Though that didn't mean that he didn't like the presents and the chocolates, which he would sometimes receive. He used to feel confident when receiving those, yet he didn't give them too much importance, so he doesn't understand why he was blushing over some chocolate-covered cherries and a stupid frog watch. Like, are you mocking him, MC? Do you really think that he would use such a dumb thing? He definitely doesn't think that this is so cute coming from you, and he definitely is not going to use that watch everyday spoiler alert, he is definitely going to.
Deuce’s cinnamon flavored chocolate eggs match his chicken plushie.
Deuce isn't very versed when it comes to Valentine's. He did celebrate it with his mom, but that was literally it. The only times he received chocolates and other gifts were from anonymous letters, but he thought it was a joke, so he never tried to find the author (which ended up being a girl that had a huge crush on him). Hence why this boy is worried. He definitely appreciates you and your gifts, because it’s not every day that you get a Valentine’s gift from your crush! Like, what is he supposed to give you (even though you said it was fine) after you took the time and effort to elaborate such a wholesome gift? He ends up worrying so much about it that the chocolate has probably melted by now. But don’t worry, his plushie is still safe and sound!
You may be thinking that “they ended up living happy forever after,” right? No. That’s not how Heartslabyul works.
"Hey! Why is your chocolate bigger than mine?!"
"How is that my fault...? Hey! Stop trying to steal my chocolates!"
"There's no need to fight. I'm sure that the Prefect made sure to make everyone's chocolates equally."
"Yeah! You should worry about what to gift her instead~"
“I will take my leave then. You're free to come with me to try to find something that she would like.”
"Why did that sound so condescending...?"
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SECOND STOP: SAVANACLAW
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Savanaclaw’s was the second dorm you entered, and even if you loved the dorm, you weren’t sure how your chocolates were going to handle its weather because, surprise surprise: heat and chocolates do not go well together. Unless they like melted chocolate.
The situation didn’t seem to go any better, as you didn’t know where could the Savanaclaw students be. Well, all of them except for Leona, who was comfortably sleeping on the living room’s couch.
“Maybe we should find the others first. I don’t want to wake—” You commented, being abruptly interrupted by Grim and his yells, sighing upon the situation. “—Him up.”
"Hey, sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Your companion shouted, about to jump on his stomach before you grabbed him, keeping Grim from doing anything he might regret.
“Why are you being so goddamn loud...?” Leona grumbled, groggily standing up with a scowl on his face due to the sudden awakening. Looking at Grim, fully aware that he was the nuisance that interrupted his sleep, he sent him a threatening stare.
Before Grim could reply (or try to, at the very least), you stopped him from doing so, further explaining why you were in the dorm to begin with.
"I'm sorry, Leona. I'm sure it wasn't Grim's intention to wake you up in such a rude way," you stated, briefly glaring at the pouting creature.
"That's not true! And don't think that you've scared the great Grim! I—" Deciding that it was enough, you started to scratch behind his ear, sending an apologetic smile to the dorm leader in front of you, who seemed to be a little annoyed jealous of this action.
"I brought Valentine's presents for all of you," you answered, momentarily shocking the lion for a few seconds before his lips erupted into a smirk.
"Valentine's, huh?" He remarked, stepping closer towards you. "Then I guess today's the perfect day to—"
And just like we saw before (and will continue to see), Leona was interrupted, because students at this college apparently don’t like when people are about to finish their sentences.
Ruggie and Jack weren't far away from where you three were. In fact, both of them were preparing their meals before they heard your voice coming from the living room.
And when they decided to check, what's the first thing they see upon exiting the kitchen? His dorm leader shamelessly flirting with you at a really close distance while you carried a sleepy Grim.
"What do we have here~?" Ruggie chimed, walking towards your side so he could be near you. "What can we do for you, Prefect~?" He asked, ignoring Leona's death stare.
"And why did you bring such a large bag?" Jack questioned, making the two beastmen suddenly notice the heavy bag you were carrying on your shoulders.
"Glad you asked, Jack," you replied, looking through your bag’s different contents until you finally reached the ones that were labelled after them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
Immediately following your statement, you presented them with their respective gifts, easily recognizable by the distinct yellow hue of the packaging.
The beastmen’s cheeks were slowly turning into a bright red after receiving the present, treating the little package like the most precious thing on earth, which was true, at least in their eyes.
"Are these… For us…?" Ruggie hesitated, unsure of how he should react.
"Duh! Didn't you just hear her?!" Grim said, annoyance showing in his voice.
"You're just jealous you didn't get anything," Leona guessed, smirking upon seeing how irked he got by that teasing comment.
"I'm sorry, MC, but I don't have anything for you," Jack apologised, and before he could even think of bowing before you, you stopped him.
"You don't have to give me anything. As long as you like the present, I have nothing to worry about," you explained with a small smile, starting to walk towards the exit. "Unfortunately, I can't stay for much longer. So, I guess I will see you later!" 
And with that, you managed to leave just before your fluffy companion started to complain.
Leona’s smoked dark chocolates match his new lion pendant.
Leona isn’t that used to celebrating holidays, and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He would sometimes receive large amounts of gifts, ranging from expensive jewelry to different sets of clothing; things that he would just leave unused and forgotten. But your gift is a different story. You can be sure this man is going to use that necklace until he dies. He’s not going to entertain the possibility of it going missing in the depths of his bedroom, already frowning at the imaginary scenario of looking at your sad face while you ask where his gift was. He even clicks his tongue in annoyance, putting on the pendant to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere. Let’s see how fast you catch on this one, herbivore.
Ruggie’s mini donuts covered in chocolate match his new handmade bracelet.
Ruggie hasn't received, nor gifted a Valentine's gift ever. Holiday presents were (and still are) something that he deems as important and special. The only times when he did gift something to someone were during birthdays and as thanks, and vice versa. He’s not used to receiving presents outside those situations, and what’s even more surprising to him is that you were the one that brought the gift. Actually, no; what’s more surprising than that is that you don’t want anything in return, something that really caught him off guard. Less to say that he is going to be over-protecting those presents; this was something that you made for him and him only, and so it shall continue that way except the donuts, he can’t let them rot, can he?
Jack’s pear cider chocolates match his new snowboarding gloves. 
Jack has actually received quite a few Valentine’s gifts, but the thing is, just like Deuce, he still doesn’t know who the person behind those presents was. He never paid a lot of attention to it at the time, and so he continued with his life. Now he’s aware that he had to paid attention before. The one day that he doesn’t check the calendar ends up being Valentine’s Day; I can completely assure you that he’s setting up an alarm for the next one, also adding to the reminder some present ideas that say: “you’re my crush,” but don’t scream it. When you leave, he stands so still you can mistake him for a statue; if statues could wag their tail, of course.
Savanaclaw is savage what a shock, right? These boys would not even let the other one stand next to their present. Sevens, they wouldn’t even let them breathe next to their present.
"I feel sorry for you. That's really all the Herbivore got you?"
"At least I will make sure to use it. I wonder how long it will take before that pendant disappears."
"What did you say?"
"I guess I will see you later. I don't want to be a part of this."
"Hey, come back!"
"We haven't even started on your present!"
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, THIRD STOP: OCTAVINELLE
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Octavinelle, as your following choice, felt like a secure place. You were almost sure you were going to find your friends in the blink of an eye, give them their gifts and head to the next dorm. Yet the variable you didn’t have into account was considering how empty and eerie the dorm appeared at first glance.
"Henchman?" Grim started.
"Yeah?" You answered, slowly walking towards the Mostro Lounge.
"Don't ya’ think there's something fishy going on today?"
"What do you mean?"
"Floyd and Jade aren't here."
And upon that remark, you stopped. Looking around to try to spot your usually welcome committee, you noted that Grim was correct. Jade and Floyd were nowhere to be found, slightly confusing you.
"Well, today must be a busy day at the Mostro Lounge. They are most likely working," you said, resuming your walk.
Although Grim didn’t seem to want to continue the walk, scared to be a victim of whatever evil scheme the eels were plotting.
You assured that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him on your guard, to which he responded by saying he didn’t need your protection, rambling about how you dared to think he wasn't strong enough to protect you— Ahem, to protect himself and you, until he suddenly stopped.
"Henchman," he started again.
"Yeah?" you answered a second time.
"I think there's someone behind us—"
Noticing two large shadows that covered yours, you both slowly turned around, encountering two identical faces that looked down on you with a sly smile, vocalizing:
"Shrimpy~!"
"What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Prefect."
Grim let out a high-pitched scream, hiding behind your legs due to the shock, unaware of the death stare that Floyd directed at him.
"Ah, Jade, Floyd. We were just talking about you," you said, sighing in relief upon listening to their characteristic voices.
"Wah~! Did you hear that, Jade? Shrimpy was looking for me~" Floyd exclaimed, to which his twin only chuckled.
"I heard that she was looking for both of us, in fact," and before his brother could whine in response, Jade added. "Why would that be, Prefect?"
"Before I answer to that, do you know where Azul is?" you asked, looking behind them in hopes that the octomerman would appear.
"Azul? Oh, that's right," Jade let out a small smile. "He must be looking for us."
"Eh~? But I don't want to go back!" Floyd whined, thinking about what he could do to avoid going to work again. "Oh!" He exclaimed, an imaginary light bulb appearing over his head. "I can hide behind you, right, Shrimpy~?"
"You can try, but I don't think it would do much," you responded, and just when he was about to do it, you heard a yell coming from the end of the hallway.
"Jade! Floyd!" Azul screamed, walking over to where you were. "Do I need to remind you that you are still working? If you continue—"
"Hello, Azul," you greeted, seeing how the businessman yelped due to the surprise, unaware that you were behind Jade. "Great timing, I was about to look after you."
"Prefect!" He exclaimed, unconsciously tidying himself up, trying to distract you from his earlier action. "And why did you want to see me?" He stuttered, cheeks tinted of a light pink.
"I'm sure you already know what day is today, so I'm just going to give you these," you briefly explained, handing all of them their respective gifts and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
"Valentine's...?" Floyd muttered, face brightening up due to the excitement. "Does this mean Shrimpy loves me~?" He boldly asked, trying to get a shy reaction out of you, all while Azul covered his face in embarrassment, making this scenario all the much more entertaining to Jade, who was lightly chucking.
Yet when all of this unfolded, you talked, saying something that took all three of them by surprise. “Of course, I love you all after all,” you replied with a bright and contagious smile; it was at that moment that Grim realised that if he didn't do anything about this soon, they wouldn't let you go, and he can't let that happen.
"Henchman! We have to get going! Is gonna take us forever to finish if we stay here!" 
You sighed at Grim’s impatient behavior, not really understanding where it was coming from. But he was right; your chocolates weren’t going to last a whole day outside, they just weren’t made for that kind of purpose.
"As you see, me and my new guardian have to get going, so I will see you later," you joked, being weakly dragged by your companion, biding them farewell (hoping that Floyd wasn’t going to carry you like a sack of potatoes, again).
Azul’s blueberry flavoured chocolate coins match his new octopus coin.
Azul didn't really care about Valentine's (and no, it’s not because he was made fun of constantly during this day, why would you think that? It was, please give this boy lots of hugs and support); the only reason keeps track of it is that he knows it's a very profitable holiday. And I said "didn't" because that was before he realised that he had a crush on you... Okay, maybe Jade made him aware, but he still realised it. He spent the last couple of months planning the perfect plan to confess to you or at least try to, but this wasn't on his schedule. He marked this situation as "very improbable," hence why he looks like he has a fever. Furthermore, he tries to dissimulate it since he doesn't want the twins to make fun of him (again), but it's too late. A flustered Azul is always going to be interesting to witness.
Jade’s chocolate shaped mushrooms (like the Meiji Kinoko Chocolate), match his new decorations for his terrariums.
Jade is sort of neutral about Valentine's. He's not one that usually gives gifts (he definitely gave Floyd some mushrooms as a Valentine’s gift, and you can tell he was not happy about it), but he has definitely received a couple of presents, which he usually doesn’t keep unless they're interesting enough. But, if he's being honest, he wouldn't throw away anything that you gift to him; most people would call it "simping", he calls it "courtesy." His first reaction is to smile upon receiving it, yet unlike most of his mannerisms (which he keeps very controlled), this was something that to the untrained eye would go unnoticed, yet his twin and his boss childhood friend know that there's a hint of genuine happiness in it.
Floyd’s sea salt caramel lego-shaped chocolates match his new eel bracelet with his name on it.
Unlike his brother, Floyd thinks Valentine's is a very interesting holiday. He considers it the “funniest” day just because he finds the rejected Valentine’s faces so amusing. One thing he has in common with Jade though, is that he doesn't keep most of the presents given to him, especially if he can't see the reaction of the person. So, to meet his expectations you have to: one, give it to him directly, and two, wait for the best. Fortunately, we're talking about you, so that’s good news for you. Although the bad news is that you only have two options now that you’ve given him something: run or face his clinginess. 
If you didn’t know who these students were, you wouldn’t be amused, but if you do, well, it certainly was strange seeing all three (especially Floyd) staying idle in the middle of the hallway just... Existing.
"Why are you standing there? Go back to work."
"Aren't you going with us, boss?"
"Yeah! That's really unfair!"
"I have some important things that I have to take care of."
"Really? How strange, I remember you said that you had some paperwork to do."
"Oh~ Jade caught you lying, Azul~"
"Just go back to work, and don't even think about following me."
"Do you want to follow him, Jade~?"
"Of course, Floyd."
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FOURTH STOP: SCARABIA
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Since Scarabia was your next stop, you were a bit worried. Mainly because Scarabia’s weather, just like Savanaclaw, wasn’t the ideal for your chocolates to be in. Yet, something that kept your hopes high was your positivism, assuring yourself (in order to not panic) that you were going to find your friends rapidly.
"Henchman, don't ya' think we should hurry? I don't think those chocolates can stand this heat."
"I know, it’s starting to worry me," you responded, face changing from concern to determination. "But I think I know where they could be."
Grim tilted his head, as if asking: "What do you mean?"
"I called Kalim earlier to ask him about his and Jamil's plans. They don't stay in one place for long, so it was only to be sure."
"And where are they then?"
"Right here," you stated, standing in front of a big door: the one that contained all of Kalim's treasures.
You grabbed the handle, ready to open it when suddenly, the door pulled towards you. It collided with your forehead, making you lose your balance slightly, trying to not fall since it could make it worse.
"Prefect!" The Scarabia students exclaimed, worried and confused about what just happened. "Are you okay?!"
"It's okay, I'm okay," you reassured them, holding your head as a reflexive reaction.
"Henchman! Can you hear me?!" Grim yelled, making you wince slightly due to the headache. "How dare ya', pesky humans! She could have died!"
"I'm so sorry, Prefect! Do you need to go to the infirmary? Jamil and I can bring you there!" Kalim exclaimed; eyes full of concern out of fear of something severe happening to you.
"Don't worry, Kalim. I know it was an accident," you said, feeling much better now that they were starting to quiet down. “I’m sure it’s not going to leave a scar or something.”
"Prefect, are you completely sure? We don't have any problem accompanying you to the nurse," Jamil suggested, but you refused.
"Guys, seriously, I'm fine," you said, crouching down, so you could look for their gifts. "Now onto the thing I wanted to talk about..." You handed them the presents and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's."
"Valentine's...?" Kalim asked, thinking about something for a moment before an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. "Oh, that's right! We also have a present for you as well! Right, Jamil?"
Jamil didn't answer, seemingly lost for a few seconds until he snapped out of his trance. "Yeah, that's right," he answered, murmuring a little "thanks," loud enough for you to hear.
"It's nothing. I hope you like it, I tried to make them the best I could."
Before they could show you your gift, Grim had enough of this and decided that it was time to move on, practically dragging you outside Scarabia.
"Goodbye guys, maybe we can see each other later— Grim! Stop pulling me! I only have this pair of pants!"
Kalim and Jamil may be very different, but if they had one thing in common as of right now is that they were completely happy to receive such a heartfelt gift.
Kalim’s coconut chocolates match his new friendship bracelet.
Kalim has definitely received plenty of Valentine's chocolates and gifts in equal amounts, even if most of them came from his parents and his thirty siblings. All of this made Kalim believe that celebrating Valentine’s like that was very normal to be honest, it’s more of a lovely Halloween than most things, but that’s fine, it’s Kalim; at least, the platonic side of it. This could explain why it felt kind of odd when he received your gift, but don’t worry! It’s a good type of odd. He knows that he has a crush on you Jamil’s courtesy, so this gave him the slight hope that you might see him more than a friend one day. And even if not, he’s totally okay with it, since he will still be able of being your friend.
Jamil’s chili pepper chocolates match his new talking parrot plushie.
Jamil isn’t very fond of Valentine’s. It is not a surprise that he didn’t receive as many gifts as Kalim, but he never showed his discomfort to not anger his family; after all, he already knew that he just wasn’t made to give and receive something like that, or at least, that was his mentality until you and your adorable present came into the picture. He just thinks you’re a box full of surprises He had absolutely no idea that he was going to fall for you, but just like he never expected to like you, you surprised him with a gift. You gifted him something. MC, let me tell you that if he wasn’t head over heels for you, he now is.
Scarabia is by far the most normal one out the seven dorms. They’re happy, and that’s all. The difference is that one of them shows it and the other doesn’t.
“Did you see that, Jamil?! She said she made them herself!”
“Yes, Kalim, I heard it. You don’t have to yell”
“Oh, right, sorry!”
“...”
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIFTH STOP: POMEFIORE
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Pomefiore, being the next one on your list, gave you hope. Hope that maybe your original plan will work, and that you would be able to leave quickly enough to continue the rest of your long journey.
But, as you already may have guessed, things can’t be that simple.
“How strange...” You muttered, walking away from the common room after finding it empty. “Where could they be?”
“Nyah! It’s gonna take us forever to find them!” Grim whined, already tired from all the searching. “Can’t we just leave the gifts at their doors?”
“I’m not going to do that, Grim,” you stated, intently searching for your friends. “The whole point of this was to hand them the presents personally, even if it takes me the whole day.” Believe me, MC. It is going to take you the whole day.
“But we can’t just expect them to appear out of nowhere!” He claimed, unaware of the towering figures that stood right behind him after voicing those words.
“Yes, that seems certainly impossible,” Vil said, scaring Grim to the point where he climbed to your arms, hissing at the student. “Oh, did I scare you?” He teased, a bit more playful than usual.
“For your information, ya’ didn’t scare me!” Your companion quickly retorted, and although he tried to come up with an excuse to fight back, you stepped in to prevent a petty argument—certainly a wise decision—.
“So, before Grim can start a discussion here, in the middle of the hallway. Again,” you called out, eyeing him, trying to make him understand the hint. “I would like to give you these.”
“Are these... Gifts?” Epel asked, unsure of why the sudden display of affection. “Why are ya’ giving us this...?”
“Epel, don’t be disrespectful,” Vil corrected, sighing upon seeing that his little apprentice apparently didn’t know what day it was. 
“You see, Monsieur Crabapple. Today is the magnifique holiday called Valentine’s Day!” Rook briefly clarified, proceeding to deliver a monologue embellished with fancy words, listing all the wonderful things that Valentine’s entailed. “How wonderful out of you, dear Trickster, to grace us with these detailed presents!”
The hunter approached you, taking your hands in his as he gazed into your eyes, seemingly aware of the looks he was receiving from his housewarden and dorm fellow.
It wasn’t until Vil coughed that Rook stopped, only chuckling slightly while leaving your hand, not wanting to infuriate his beautiful friend.
“They do seem very elaborate. So, I’m grateful for this present, dear potato,” he thanked, looking at Epel to remind him that he hadn’t thanked you yet.
“Oh! Thank you for these gifts, MC. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to give you in return...” The boy apologized, making you sigh once again.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You commented, amused at your friend’s sincere words. “I’m not doing this in exchange for gifts. This is a gift to thank you all for being amazing friends.”
Ouch. Collective friend-zoning. That must’ve hurt.
“Yet, we do have presents for you, ma chérie,” Rook voiced, not wanting you to go before you received their display of affection.
“Indeed. We don’t have them here, but—”
“No!” Grim interrupted, having enough of the whole conversation. “Henchman, it’s getting late and, we still have lots of gifts to deliver!” He said, trying to convince you to get out of Pomefiore before Vil and Rook’s charms trapped you there.
You turned to the students, doing an apologetic bow before explaining. “I’m sorry, he’s right. I can’t stay for much longer. But I appreciate the intention, and I hope to see you later— Grim! Why are you so impatient?!”
“We have to keep moving! So say goodbye to them already!” The little creature demanded, threatening to rip the hem on your pants.
“Okay, okay! Goodbye, guys! Maybe we can meet later!” Was the last thing they heard you say before disappearing behind a corner with your protective monster-cat.
And so, surprised and with rosy cheeks that weren’t part of their makeup, they headed towards the— Oh, it seems like they don’t remember anymore... You’re giving people amnesia, MC.
Vil's chocolate-covered berries match his new bouquet of violets.
Vil has a long history with Valentine’s Day; specifically the gift part of Valentine’s. This man right here has received countless gifts and cards from fans and people around him confessing their love in extravagant—and sometimes expensive—ways. He’s used to this by this point, but his balance point was broken the moment you decided to hand him that present. Dear potato, have you ever thought about being the partner of a renowned celebrity? No...? Well, would you like to? Because Vil takes this detail as your way of expressing your fondness for him. Sure, you said it was because he’s an ‘amazing friend’ (which he obviously is), but that doesn’t mean you can’t see him as more than a friend. After all, Vil’s patience is truly one of his virtues just don’t tell him you have a gift for Neige. You know, only if you want him to live a bit longer.
Rook’s mint chocolates match his new poetry book.
Oh dear, when I say no one at Night Raven College loves Valentine’s as much as Rook does, I’m being completely serious. We’re talking about a holiday that’s all about expressing love, and taking into account that Rook calls himself “le chasseur d’amore...” There’s not much left to piece together, is it. He is mesmerized by this gift; it doesn’t matter if you said it was to appreciate his friendship, he’s focusing on the fact that you, kind and wholehearted you, seemed to put so much effort to make this present that was for him and him only. Oh, beautiful Trickster; I hope you are prepared, for this dedicated hunter is going to be next at your feet expressing his admiration and appreciation for you in a very... ‘Rook manner,’ for the next couple of days... Or weeks. Maybe months, but it’s not like he didn’t do that from before, so that’s fine.
Epel’s chocolate-dipped apple rings match his new apple plushie (with an evil smile, may I add)
Epel isn’t really involved in Valentine’s. His experience with it consists of him occasionally receiving some gifts from his family and carving out some apples with Valentine’s elements on them. Being the only young boy in a village full of elderly people, we can assume that he never really got into touch with the romantic part of the holiday; at least, not until now. And I have to congratulate you, MC; you just made Epel’s face resemble an apple, and all because of your thoughtfulness. Now, does he think that having plushies is manly? No. But will he put your gift aside because of this? No. Not only because it will make you sad, but also because he assumes it wouldn’t be so bad to have an evil apple plushie in his room. You know, at least it’s evil, and that makes it a bit more manly. Sevens Epel, a manly apple-?
Pomefiore are just turning on the passive-aggressive mode. Nothing can stop these boys from feeling superior just because they received a personalized gift (which everyone got, but let’s not ruin their fantasy).
“Isn’t our belle Trickster so endearing. To take her precious time by making all of us these detailed gifts; ah, what a beautiful way to celebrate Valentine’s!”
“Although yours doesn’t seem that detailed, Rook. Are ya’ happy with that pocket diary?”
“I could ask the same to you, Epel. Although I may say that plushie compliments you.”
“Quit that, please...”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Monsieur Crabapple! The magnifique shade of this plushie truly enhances your beauty!”
“I’m not going to ask you anything from today onwards...”
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SIXTH STOP: IGNIHYDE
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Ignihyde had to be the easier dorm to “infiltrate” so far. The housewarden was known for being a programming genius, but also, and most important of all, for staying in his room.
It was a fool-proof plan. Entering Ignihyde, encountering Ortho along the way, and finally, greet Idia at his bedroom Nothing could go wrong.
And this may surprise you, but contrary to all the things that happened to you today, nothing went wrong. In fact, the list of events I just spelled did happen in that order.
After entering Ignihyde, you were greeted with the usual sight of an almost empty living room, saluting the few students that weren’t occupied with winning an intense game of Animal Crossing.
Subsequent to the first stage of your plan, you encountered the youngest Shroud brother while walking towards the oldest, seeing his cheerful face approach you with a welcoming voice.
“Hello, MC! What brings you here today?” Ortho said, instantly noting the large bag behind your bag. “And why are you carrying that bag? Are my brother and you going to study today?”
You giggled at his comment, shaking your head in refusal. “Not exactly. I’m here to gift Idia a Valentine’s present.” You explained, followed by asking if he was in his room.
Ortho stayed silent for a couple seconds, quickly searching for the holiday you just mentioned, and when he knew what it was about... Let’s just say that his expectations of you confessing to Idia (because honestly, at this point he knows his brother isn’t going to, for now, at least) were rising like the sky-high.
“Of course! My brother will be very happy to see you and to receive your awesome present, MC!” The little one answered, taking you by your hand to guide you to Idia’s room.
As soon as he arrived, Ortho knocked on the door, patiently waiting for his brother’s response.
“What is it, Ortho?” Idia asked, lazily opening the door, thinking that Ortho had come up with another plan to hang out with you. Jokes on him, no plan was needed, as you were right in front of him, a wide smile plastered over your face. “MC—!” He blurted out, surprised to see you.
“Hello, Idia,” you exclaimed, assuming that it would be best if you explained the meaning behind your visit. “I know you may be busy, and I don’t intend to take much of your time. I just wanted to give you this,” and thus you gifted the blue haired boy a small blue box, alongside a translucent bag of chocolates.
“Huh...? W-why are you giving me this...?” The boy questioned, only to be smacked with a reality check by remembering all the special side quests he completed regarding the love and friendship’s special day. “Oh. OH—”
In the blink of an eye his hair goes from blue to a bright pink, not giving you enough time to comment about it since he shuts the door just as fast, too embarrassed to pronounce a word other than a small: “thank you.”
“Brother! Are you okay? Your heart rate is going extremely fast!” Ortho voiced, not really helping Idia’s situation don’t tell him that, he’ll get sad.
“Don’t worry, Ortho. I’m pretty sure Idia’s okay. He must’ve been taken aback, that’s all.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely fine and we should definitely go to deliver these last presents,” Grim suggested, already making his way back to the mirror chamber.
“Not so fast, Grim. I have yet to give Ortho his gift.” The mentioned raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting that.
“A gift? For me?” He uttered while moving his head to the side in curiosity.
“Yeah, for you,” you reiterated, handing him a little box—no chocolates this time because, well, he’s a robot—. “I hope you like it. You can place them wherever you want, and they also got little chains in case you want to bring them with you.”
He stares at the keychains, looking at the similar characteristics between him, his brother, Grim and you; and with a bright smiley face, he exclaims: “thank you, MC! I will make sure to take great care of these!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We have to keep going, if you don’t mind.”
“Goodbye, Ortho. And goodbye, Idia! Hope you like your present too!” You voiced, unsure if he heard you or not.
Oh, and indeed he heard you, it’s just that he’s a little too occupied trying to not die from cuteness overload— Never mind, he just short-circuited.
Idia’s peanut butter chocolates match his new videogame.
Taking into account his past, we can safely say that Idia didn’t really have a lot of experience with Valentine’s, aside from the games, that’s for sure. He never gave or received any chocolates nor gifts, and you know what? He was fine with that; just enjoying his games and not worrying about love and romance at least irl, because this man proclaims himself as an expert when it comes to ships in manga and video games. He was fine, and now he isn’t. His mind is flooded with too many questions, like: why on earth would you give him anything? Is it because of social etiquette or because you wanted to? How did you get your hands on this game? Should he take this as a sign to finally confess his undeniable crush on you—? Okay, he may have gone a little too far with that one. But don’t worry! He is going to do it, it’s just that it might take a bit of time. He’s absolutely going to gift you something back, don’t doubt it. But you may want to wait after the short-circuit passes.
VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SEVENTH AND FINAL STOP: DIASOMNIA
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Now, you knew that Diasomnia was going to be a tough one. Firstly, you were sure there was going to be a lot of shouting (Sebek’s courtesy), followed by Lilia, and possibly Malleus’ teasing. Silver was the only one that didn’t really do much apart from being the most normal being out of the four that’s a compliment, Silver. You make MC’s life a bit easier.
“Okay, Grim,” you started, happy upon seeing that this was the last location. “After this, we can go back to Ramshackle and eat the dinner you were so impatient for. Isn’t that exciting?”
No response.
“Well, I know you’re tired, but I have to thank you for accompanying me today. Even if you were a bit rude and odd, it really means a lot that—” 
“The Great Grim is going to fight all of you...!” He interrupted, mumbling incoherent things while you looked at his sleeping face, not sure when or how he fell asleep.
“I should have guessed that a whole day of walking may end up in this,” you muttered, carefully lifting him up so he could rest in your shoulders, trying to accommodate him the best you could as you made your way towards the Witch of Thorns’ dorm.
If felt strange having Grim by your side and not hearing him chit-chat with his characteristic tone, after all, it’s not like Grim and silence usually got along unless he was sleeping or reprimanded.
Feeling a bit bored, you started to hum softly, slowly strolling to find the garden, where you thought your friends might be.
It didn’t take long for you to encounter them, and they, likewise, didn’t take long to notice you were there. 
Malleus approached you first, a smile spreading across his face upon seeing you. “How delightful it is to see you, Child of Man. What brings you here today?” He asked, unsuspecting of the surprise you’ve prepared for all of them.
“Oh. Don’t tell me the rumors are true,” Lilia voiced, floating behind you to take a peek inside your bag. It seemed like him, unlike the rest of the dorm, was aware of your intentions.
“What rumors...?” You questioned, keeping him from grabbing one of the small boxes sitting at the bottom of the bag. 
He blinked in surprise, followed by a giggle after realising that you had no idea what was being said behind your back. “I wouldn’t like to ruin the surprise. It’s something you may want to express yourself, am I right?”
“Master Lilia! What do you mean by that?” Sebek shouted, prompting you to shush him quickly so Grim wouldn’t wake up. “You dare to quiet me down, human—!”
“Sebek,” Silver intervened, noticing the sleeping being on your shoulders, and thus he pointed it for the green haired boy to see.
“I’m sorry for shushing you, Sebek. It’s just that Grim is asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you apologized, hoping that your crocodile friend would try to lower his voice at least a little.
“O-okay, human. But—!” He paused briefly, trying to not raise his voice. “I’m not doing it because of your orders.”
You sighed, thankful for his thoughtfulness, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Thank you, Sebek.”
Malleus coughed as he eyed his guardian’s red face, wanting to continue the original topic. “Say, Child of Man. You were about to tell us the meaning behind your visit.”
“Oh, that’s right,” you replied, cautiously taking the four remaining gifts to give them to the students. “I wanted to give you something as a Valentine’s Day present. So, I hope you like these details,” you stated, sighing after handing out the gifts, glad that this would be the last parade.
“My, my. I didn’t expect to receive a Valentine’s Day gift until a couple more of years,” Lilia muttered, seemingly happy to see his gift. 
Silver stood silently for a few seconds, quickly realising that he had to thank you, softly expressing his gratitude over your recent action.
Sebek felt in the obligation to ask the purpose of this unexpected act, but since he wasn’t able didn’t want to express it his usual way, he recurred to mumble a small ‘thank you,’ taking you by surprise.
And the last and most dramatic reaction of all had to be given to Malleus. Just as we’ve seen before, he tends to... Overreact a little when it comes to small details like this one; so, in truly dragon-fae fashion, he kneeled before you, took your hand and prepared to say the words he’s been wanting to say for a long time now.
Lilia, however, had to step in, immediately clarifying how Valentine’s Day is also a day express your love for your friends. Less to say that if Malleus had his dragon ears, they would be flopped down like a puppy.
“Well. It seems that your wonderful visit has brought new moments to reminisce about,” the old fae said, trying his best to ease the situation. “We are very grateful for what you’ve gifted us today.”
“I’m happy to see that you’ve liked them,” you voiced, chuckling a bit after witnessing their reactions. “And, although I can’t really stay for much longer, I enjoyed this moment with you.”
You were about to head out after biding them goodbye, only to be stopped by Malleus, who was still a little gloomy for the news he just received. “Do you really have to go now, Child of Man?”
“Unfortunately, I do. It’s already late and Grim might get mad at me if he finds out that he’s not at Ramshackle when he wakes up,” you calmly explained, softly caressing his cheek as you walked away, promising him that you would have more time to spend together tomorrow.
You better keep that promise, MC. Malleus is already too dejected to suffer another deception.
Malleus’ gelato truffles match his new gargoyle keychain.
Malleus’ knows what Valentine’s is, but his knowledge about it is limited to the romantic part of it. Hence why he is about to pursue you, ready to propose, again, and take you to his castle so that you can live a long and happy life together; until Lilia explained him the other side of the holiday, disappointing the dragon fae. Well, excuse him, Lilia, but how was he supposed to know that humans also celebrate their friendship during Valentine’s. He’s frustrated, but also enchanted  in a nutshell, he’s a mess right now. Yes, he’s still quite sad that this wasn’t a confession and that he may have to wait a bit of time before making a move on you, but nonetheless, you just expressed that you care and appreciate him, and that, at least for now, was enough for him.
Lilia’s green tea chocolates match his new bouquet of black and fuchsia roses.
Lilia has witnessed and experienced many Valentine’s days during his life. He probably has enough information to fill an entire encyclopedia about it, maybe including some of his stories as a bonus. Having lived for so long, Lilia finds enjoyment in how humans celebrate their holidays; and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He reminisces about his past lovers and confidants, basking in the subtle aroma of his recently acquired bouquet while thinking about all the memories he made along the way. This may sound like something an old man would say, but Lilia truly relishes in the fleeting moments that life graces him with; he most definitely takes delight in spending those moments with you, happy to see that you also enjoy his presence.
Silver’s cashew chocolates match his new deer plushie.
Silver’s pretty much indifferent towards Valentine’s. He doesn’t have time to celebrate these kinds of festivities when he has to make sure his young master isn’t in any danger. But he guesses that once a while won’t hurt... Malleus and Lilia are within his sight, Sebek is right next to him, and he doesn’t have the will to reject your gift. After all, who is he to decline such a selfless act? He gives you a warm smile as his cheeks turn into a slight shade of pink, uttering grateful words until he was too sleepy to continue the conversation. Just as he was slowly falling asleep, he unconsciously hugged his new stuffed plushie, unaware of the future teasing his father would carry out. Well, seeing the bright side of it though: he had an splendid nap and you had another sleeping beauty Silver picture. A win-win situation indeed.
Sebek’s lemon caramel chocolates match his new crocodile and dragon mug.
Sebek wasn’t and still isn’t fond of Valentine’s Day. In fact, he’s not fond of almost any of the holidays that you, mere humans, like to celebrate. However, even if he states that he doesn’t care about your gift and complaints about your display of affection towards his young master, Sebek ends up liking you a little bit more than usual. Don’t be mistaken, human! It’s not because of the cute action you just confer upon him, why would you even think that? He just thinks that a gift like this can be very useful, that’s all! He’s not smitten by your sweet smile, kind and thoughtful self, or the way your eyes shine when you’re happy... Wait, what was he saying? Oh, of course! He’s definitely not smitten by any of those things I just mentioned, so don’t you dare to think that after he gifts you your Valentine’s gift. What? It’s called being polite, you know?
Diasomnia might be the only dorm that doesn’t take down the gifts from the other students. Most likely because they were all a happy and beloved family... And also due to them thinking very highly of their presents. But is something that most people have done at this point, so the first part still stands.
“How come I didn’t know about this...”
“Oh, don’t worry, my prince! For the Prefect most certainly did this with love and effort for all of us!”
“It certainly seems that human put so much care into these...”
“What are you mumbling, Sebek?”
“N-nothing!”
“That’s right. If I gift Child of Man a present deserving of her, I can partake in this celebration with her.”
“What an enlivening idea! This makes the perfect occasion to try out that cookie recipe I got from Jade, kee hee~”
“Father, please don’t.”
INITIAL STOP: RAMSHACKLE
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The wood of the door creaking was the only sound that could be heard upon returning to your dorm. Being accustomed to it, you didn’t think of it as you left Grim on the couch, sitting next to him while watching his peaceful face, far away in dreamland.
“Aww, isn’t he the cutest when he isn’t awake?” Brawley commented, appearing out of nowhere as he floated around the little creature.
“So, tell us, MC. How did you Valentine’s journey go?” Conrad asked, anticipating an answer that never came. “MC?”
When the ghosts turned to look at you, all they found was your sleeping form, who couldn’t resist the tiredness after a whole day of walking and searching.
“Poor thing. She must be so exhausted,” Arthur said, dragging a blanket to shield you from the cold weather. “I can’t believe she really took it upon herself to prepare all of those gifts.”
“Right? I haven’t seen anyone so determined to prepare so many boxes and chocolates without expecting something in return,” Brawley added, trying his best to sneak a pillow under your head.
“Well, she may not expect anything in return, but I’m almost completely sure those boys are going to return the favor,” Conrad voiced, placing Grim in a more comfortable spot close to you, careful to not wake him up.
After that, your ghost fellows decided to float around for a bit, talking amongst themselves to guess what the gifts your friends had for you might be, also questioning if they were also thinking of competing not only for your attention, but for your love as well.
THE END~
DON'T REPOST.
EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.
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norizz-nation · 1 month
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Could you write something for Lando after the christmas dinner with both of your families and you were needy and wanted his attention so you kept teasing him through the whole dinner till he couldn't stand it anymore, so he grabbed you and took you both to your house early so he could fuck the attitude and bratiness from you. Thanks
Brats Like You | L.N4
Summary: When it comes to having dinner with both your families, things can turn out pretty wild.
Warnings: nsfw, 18+, degradation, choking, dacryphilia, hair pulling, usage of belt to tie reader’s hands, orgasm denial
“You didn’t have to do this, right?” Lando asked, sounding disappointed as you looked at him with confusion on your face. “Do what, baby?” You acted like you didn’t know. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw as he focused on driving. “Do what?” You asked again, hoping for his answer this time. Although you knew what’s the answer. “You know exactly what.” He stated coldly as his hands gripped on the steering wheel so hard that you could see his knuckles turning white.
You did know what Lando meant. It’s not like it was an accident when you wore a dress that revealed a bit of your back. Well, most of your back. You did that on purpose. And he knows that. He knows that you just like to be a slutty little brat in front of everyone. He also knows that you know how fucked out you’re left when he’s done showing you the consequences of your actions. “Can’t even behave for once.” He murmured as his jaw clenched hard.
Fuck, you really made him mad.
“Just behave and don’t try to be a bratty little girl and don’t do anything stupid that you might regret later.” He told you as he guided you to the table where both of your parents were sitting.
“So, how’s everything, y/n?” Lando’s mum asked as you smiled at her innocently from across the table, “Well everything is going absolutely great.” You said as you placed your hand on Lando’s thigh, well, his upper thigh. This made Lando breathe nervously as his arm that was resting on your chair softly taps the back of your neck with his finger to signal you to stop whatever you’re planning to do.
But did you stop? No.
“Right, baby?” You asked him as your hand slowly moved towards his crotch, making him move a little under your touch. “Right, yeah.” He said as he took a sip of his wine. Your fingers twirled around his crotch and you stopped right where his belt is. You acted like you’re going to unbuckle it which made Lando push your hand away.
“Hey baby, come here. You have something on your face.” The way he said that assured you that there’s nothing on your face. But, you still move your face close to him as he brushes your cheek and whispers, “Don’t you dare behave like a fucking slutty brat here. Because you know that your ‘little acts’ have consequences, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You said, smirking at him. At this point, you’re just trying to see how much you can play with his nerves. “Alright, sweetheart you wanna play? Then let’s play, come on.” He said as you looked at him with confusion, not knowing what he’s going to do next.
This evening went slower than usual. It felt like this wasn’t going to end. But surprisingly it was only 15 minutes. You couldn’t stop but wonder what Lando meant by his “play”.
Your thoughts got distracted when you heard Lando saying that he’s not feeling that good and needs to go home as soon as possible.
“Oh honey, we just started our talk.” Your mum said as Lando smiled innocently. “I know mum, but my head is aching so much. I can’t take it anymore.” He said as both your parents started to get worried.
Right. He’s definitely not sick.
“What the fuck were you doing?” He questioned as you winched in pain. The grip around your neck tightening more and more. “Answer. Me.” He spat those words as you let out a little smirk that made him more mad. “Oh is it funny, huh?” He asked as you nodded lightly. The smirk not leaving your face.
It didn’t take much time for him to get you positioned on your hands and knees. “Let’s see if you still find it funny after I’m done with you tonight.” He stated as he unbuckled his belt and tied your hands behind. “B-baby please.” You pleaded as Lando pulled on your hair, whispering, “Please? Brats like you don’t deserve this cock. Now keep your face down and ass up.” He said as he slowly trailed his fingers down your spine. Making you squirm for more.
“Please baby please.” You pleaded again and Lando just scoffed at your words. “Already needy?” He asked in a taunting tone and you just nodded. “P-please.” You pleaded. Again.
He then teasingly pushed your lacy panties aside asking, “Please what, huh?” “Please just fuck me already. Baby please I want you to fuck me.” Your needy words made Lando grin a bit. “Always wanting my cock like a dumb little slut, yeah?”
You couldn’t help but whine out as you nodded your head, answering him. He then pulled on your hair a bit harder than before asking, “I need your fucking words. Say it. Do you want my cock just like the dumb little slut you are?”
His question made your cheeks burn as you could assure that is damn red now. “Y-yes, yes I want i-it.” You managed to say as you could feel your thighs stick with each other from how wet you’re.
This “play” was torturing you. All you want is just to get yourself off. No matter how. “Wow this brat can finally get some words out of her mouth instead of just whining.” He taunted.
Your head felt fuzzy. It felt like the world was falling apart. As if you two are the only people alive on earth. All you could focus on was him. Only him.
Every thrust made you scream a bit louder than before. His belt definitely left a good bruise on your wrists.
“F-fuck baby, y-yes right t-there!” You screamed out when you felt him hit the perfect spot that makes your body shake uncontrollably. “Fuck, your pathetic little pussy clenches so fucking hard around my cock.” He said breathlessly as you could hear his groan fill the room.
“I’m g-gonna-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence and Lando pulled out and started to jerk himself off which made you squirm and cry out for more of his cock.
His warm cum coated your ass and some landed on your hands. “Oh my God. Please Lando…” You pleaded and he scoffed at you. Coming closer, whispering, “Still find it funny? I don’t think so. See that’s the reward for your ‘little acts’. Now let’s see how long you can squirm for.”
Fuck, his ‘play’.
A/N: Your baby is back with another fic! I’m sorry for not writing for a while but I’m back now. Hope y’all like this one. As always requests are open so feel free to ask what you want me to write. I love you. ❤️
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clockwayswrites · 2 months
Text
Masked in Amity
CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)
Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.
“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?
“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”
“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”
“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”
“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.
“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”
“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”
Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.
“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”
“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”
“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”
“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”
Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”
Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.
This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”
The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”
“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”
“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”
“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…
Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”
Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”
Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”
“So you want to leave me in the past?”
“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”
“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.
Danny scrambled off also.
“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”
Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”
“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”
“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”
Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”
“And then left.”
“So I could help other people!”
“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”
Danny closed his mouth with a clack.
Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”
“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”
“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.
“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”
“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.
Maybe he really was just a caged beast.
“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.
As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.
--
AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.
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luv4fushi · 4 months
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omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well
tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!
this december
jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader
it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.
content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry
word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)
click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!
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it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.
“why me?” you groan.
gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.
“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”
“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.
satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”
you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.
“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.
satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).
satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”
your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”
“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”
“i appreciate your honesty, but—”
“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.
“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”
“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”
“gojo!” you whine.
“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”
and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).
so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.
megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.
“i think we should break up.”
and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.
now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.
“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.
you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.
“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.
the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.
what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.
if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.
megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.
you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.
“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.
it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.
you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.
“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.
��i can take the couch,” megumi says.
it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.
“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”
“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”
we’ve shared a room countless of times before.
megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.
“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.
megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”
he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.
“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.
“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”
to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.
and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.
december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.
“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”
you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”
he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.
by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.
you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.
your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.
you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?
“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.
with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”
you pale. “this sucks.”
“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.
“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.
he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”
your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”
“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”
“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.
“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.
you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?
there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.
that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.
so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?
you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”
you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.
it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.
you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.
when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.
“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.
you smile and nuzzle closer.
it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.
to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.
tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.
it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?
“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.
you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.
“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.
the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.
“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.
you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.
“don’t touch my wife.”
the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?
“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”
“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”
the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.
“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”
“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”
you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”
“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”
“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.
“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”
“i don’t want to,” you argue.
“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”
“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.
“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”
from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.
you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”
“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.
“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”
the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.
when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.
the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.
there’s nothing to do anyway.
you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.
you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.
without much thought, you buy the gift.
the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”
you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”
she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.
you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.
reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?
you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.
you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.
you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.
he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.
“is this for me?”
“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”
he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”
“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.
“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”
you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”
“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.
you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.
he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.
“thank you,” he whispers.
december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.
“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.
“huh? why not?”
“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.
“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”
“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”
your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.
“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”
“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”
“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.
you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.
“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.
he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”
why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?
your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?
you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.
“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.
he stills completely. “what?”
“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”
his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.
“i do care,” he admits sorely.
“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.
“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”
you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.
“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.
“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.
“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.
he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.
“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”
“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”
he flinches against you. “but i…”
“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”
he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.
you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.
“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”
“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?
“w-we gotta report back to—”
“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.
the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”
“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.
all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.
it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.
“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.
“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”
megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.
your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.
"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.
satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”
“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.
“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.
“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”
megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.
“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”
“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.
“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”
“watch me!”
“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”
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cdragons · 3 months
Text
Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2
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Previous Part, Next Part
Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.
Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic
Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇
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Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006
“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”
Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.
“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”
He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.
But he made a mistake.
The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.
Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.
No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.
But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and
“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”
Fuck, he was getting soft.
Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.
That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.
Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.
His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.
He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.
Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.
Oh God, he was going to blow.
Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.
Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.
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First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006
Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.
He had to know more.
Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.
All the better for him to keep observing you.
As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.
He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.
But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.
He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.
He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.
“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.
You were American. How adorable.
“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”
You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.
Must have been Farleigh’s idea.
Anyway, back to you.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.
Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.
Except that he was.
He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.
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Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.
It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.
My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋
Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.
By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.
“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”
“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”
Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”
Felix just shrugged.
“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”
Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.
“Merry Christmas, indeed.”
A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.
“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”
“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”
“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”
Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.
“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”
Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.
Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.
Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.
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Manchester, December 2006
You were having the time of your life.
Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”
But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.
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Oxford Dining Hall December 2006
You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.
“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.
Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.
“What?” you croaked out.
“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”
“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”
“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”
You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.
You hated feeling small.
“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”
He rolled his eyes at your concern.
“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”
You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.  
His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.
When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.
“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”
“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”
Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.
“Look, are you coming or not?”
You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.
“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”
A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”
“Don’t push it.”
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You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.
His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.
“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”
When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.
“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”
“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”
“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”
“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”
Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.
“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”
You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”
“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.
“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”
Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.
“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”
“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”
“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”
“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”
Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.
“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”
“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”
You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.
“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”
“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”
Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.
“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”
“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.
Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.
The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.
You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.
When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.
You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.
But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.
Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.
At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.
Well – everyone except one.
Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.
Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.
Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.
“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”
You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.
“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”
If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.
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Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006
In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.
He had to get out of here.
In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.
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Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss
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moonstruckme · 5 months
Text
Busybody
summary: when Steve notices your anxiety spiraling out of control, he finds his own way to help
cw: anxiety
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
You’d woken up with some busybody in your chest that you can’t get rid of. 
It feels like you’ve had three cups of coffee despite your four hours of sleep. You’d all but jolted awake, pre-panicked about something that you haven’t identified yet. Something you have to be forgetting, or not assigning enough importance to, surely. And the way you figure it, if your body’s going to freak out at you about being idle, you may as well appease it and hop to. 
By the time Steve cracks an eyelid, you’re thinking about what to make for lunch. Heart never having left your throat, you’ve cleaned the kitchen, baked a blackberry cobbler, tried to read a few pages of your book before giving up for fidgetiness, reorganized your portion of the bathroom cabinet, and begun a grocery list for the week. 
“Morning,” he yawns, leaning against the counter. He’s looking endearingly rumpled, a faint red line on his face from a crease in his pillowcase and his hair pressed flat on the one side. You smile at him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Smells like fire in here.” 
“Morning! I made a cobbler,” you explain, not mentioning the burnt first attempt that’s smelled up his kitchen despite you opening all the windows. “Do you want some bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast?”
Steve blinks, eyebrows rising slightly. “Uh, sure. You gonna make me some?” 
“Mhm.” You’re already taking the eggs out of the fridge. “Scrambled?” 
“Yeah. Thanks, babe.” 
“No problem.” You grin, happy to be of use as you whisk his eggs with a fork, turning on two burners of the stove to preheat as you do. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good,” he yawns. “Well, pretty good. Woke up a couple times this morning, but you were already gone. Been up for a while?” 
“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 
Steve nods, frowning. “Sorry, honey. You didn’t get much chance to sleep the night before, either, right?” 
You hum, bacon sizzling when it hits the pan. You put the toast down in the toaster, hoping you’ve timed it right so it’ll still be warm when everything else is done. “Oh, do you want orange juice?” 
“Sure, but I can grab it.” He moves for the cabinet, but you nudge in front of him, too restless to stop moving while everything heats on the stove. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You shoot him a smile as you grab a cup. Steve returns it, but muddled.
“So between last night and the one before, how many hours have you gotten?” 
You shrug. “Not sure.” Nine, give or take. “But I don’t feel tired.” 
“Well, that’s good,” he says slowly, watching as you fill the cup with orange juice before hustling back to the stove, flitting between tasks at something approaching light speed. 
“Hey, so I was thinking,” you go on, flipping the bacon, “do you want to do some Christmas shopping today? I mean, I know you said you’re not thinking about it yet, but it can’t hurt to get a jump on things.” 
Steve yawns again, stretching his back. “Yeah, that sounds okay. Not sure I’d know what to get anyone.” 
You nod a few times. “Maybe you’ll know it when you see it.” Flip the bacon onto a plate, add more pepper to the eggs, put the bacon’s pan in the sink, turn off that burner on the stove—the toaster goes off, and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling. You jump straight up. 
“Oh.” You press a hand to your chest, laughter tripping off your tongue. Your blood thrums excitedly, like it’s finally found the outlet it's been looking for all morning. “God, that scared me.” 
“I could tell,” Steve says, eyebrows at his hairline and smiling faintly. “You doing alright?”
“Yeah, good.” Your heartbeat has become more noticeable all of a sudden, a hollow ache behind your breastbone. “I’m almost done, just a sec.” 
“No rush, honey. Thanks for making me breakfast. It looks great.” 
“Of course, no problem.” You plate up the rest and spin to find Steve already there, his hand the only thing stopping you from nearly flinging the dish into the wall surprisedly. 
“Thank you,” he says earnestly, taking the plate from you and setting it on the counter. He brings his arms around your shoulders, and you wrap yours around him too, an automatic response. Steve sighs, his ribs expanding and contracting with the force of it, and you copy him mockingly. 
“Still tired, baby?” 
“A little,” he admits. “Though I can’t really complain, considering how little sleep you’ve gotten.” 
You make to pull out of the hug, but Steve tightens his grip on you, palm pressing into the midpoint of your upper back. You give in, a willing captive. 
“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m sorry you’re tired.” 
Steve hums, taking another big breath. “I’m good.” A pause. “Okay, you can tell me if I’m crazy, but it does smell like something’s burning in here, right?” 
“Burnt,” you admit. “I left a blackberry cobbler in the oven a bit too long. The one in the fridge is a re-do.” 
“Oh, okay.” 
“Sorry.” 
“No, don’t be. I think the smell’s clearing out anyway. Right?”
You sniff experimentally at the air. “Yeah, I think so.” 
“Yeah?” he sniffs too. 
You inhale more fully, only detecting the faint remains of smokiness under the newer scent of bacon grease. 
“I’ve never had blackberry cobbler,” he says, palm beginning to coast slowly between your shoulder blades while his other arm stays firmly around your waist. “What’s it taste like?”
You perk up. “Wanna try some now?”
“No—I wouldn’t want to ruin this breakfast you’ve made me. Describe it to me.” 
It’s an odd request, but nothing you can’t manage for him. You think back, letting your tongue conjure up the memory of the last time you had it. “Well, the blackberries aren’t tangy by the time they’ve been cooked,” you tell him. Steve hums, hand solid and steady on your upper back. “And this recipe is really sweet. The dough is kind of like sugar cookie dough.” 
“Sounds good,” he says appreciatively. “Hey, do you think you can smell it?” 
“From inside the fridge?” You take your head from his shoulder to give Steve an odd look. 
“Sure, just give it a try.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. You wrinkle your brow, sniffing tentatively. Steve opens his eyes as if to check you’re doing it, and it’s the worry in his look that gives him away. Your bemusement gives way to fondness as you take a long breath in, filling your lungs and holding the air inside you for a few moments before emptying them. You know what he’s doing, but you’re letting him anyway. 
“Mmm, don’t think I can,” you tell him wryly.  
“No?” Steve’s smile is sheepish, well aware you’re onto him. “Do you think we should find three things you can touch, just for fun?” 
You roll your eyes at him, but inhale again as you hug him tightly. Some of the pain in your chest eases. “Thanks, Stevie.” 
“What for?” he asks, hand resuming its route between your shoulder blades. “Hey listen, I’m all about your Christmas shopping idea, but do you wanna try taking a hot shower first? It might help you relax.” 
“That’s a good idea,” you admit, peeling away from him. He lets you this time, albeit reluctantly. “Your breakfast is going to get cold.”
Steve looks at it as though just remembering it’s there. “Right, thanks. Sit with me while I eat? You could have some of that tea you like.” 
You smile at him, taking a mug and your herbal tea down from the cabinet. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” 
“You’ve got to stop thanking me, I haven’t done a thing all morning.”
890 notes · View notes
malum-forev · 11 months
Note
If you still have Receiving/ giving a gift available, could you please write about Avenger Bucky receiving a gift from reader, for Christmas or his birthday? But he totally doesn’t expect it and gets all emotional cause he hasn’t received a gift in decades and doesn’t know what to do with the whole thing.
Yes yes yeeesss this is such a great ideaaa <3
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*
“This is stupid.” Bucky grumbled.
“What’s stupid is that you waited until December 24th to buy your Secret Santa a gift!” Sam said, dodging the thousands of people roaming the streets of New York. 
“I didn’t think the gift exchange would actually amount to anything.” Bucky groaned. “I thought we would be sent away on a mission!”
“I don’t care what your excuse for procrastination is! I just want you to buy your Secret Santa something.”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what-“
Sam covered his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m not listening, don’t want any spoilers.”
“I want to be put back in the cryostasis chamber.” Bucky sighed dramatically.
-- 
Bucky stretched the neck of the uncomfortable wool sweater someone on the team had forced them to wear. The itchy fabric made his skin red. Whoever started the ugly sweater tradition should be sentenced to life in jail. Bucky thought. 
“Will you stop acting like a toddler, we’re supposed to be the adults here.” Sam spoke from the edge of his mouth to not attract any more attention. 
“I’m not acting like a child, I’m acting like a senile old man. This is the appropriate way for me to act seeing as I’m over a hundred years old.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting the action as he pressed the disgusting fabric against his chest. 
“Okay! Bucky’s turn!” Sam yelled, not wanting to bare another second of his friend’s complaining, pushing Bucky to the middle of the circle. All of the agents’ eyes were on him. 
Bucky never really celebrated Christmas, back in the 40’s it was common for families to celebrate it but ever since he got out of the ice he- well let’s just say The Winter Soldier didn’t really have time for holiday shopping. 
“I got-“ Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Ryan as my Secret Santa so, here’s a knife.”
The room got eerily silent as they all watched Bucky take out an unpackaged knife from one of his pockets. 
Sam facepalmed himself. 
“Thanks Sarge.” Ryan awkwardly smiled. 
“I sharpened that myself.” Bucky said proudly. 
“Let’s move on!” Sam said, this was more painful than he’d ever imagined. “Who got the cyborg as Secret Santa?”
Again, silence met everyone. The agents looked at each other but no one stepped up.
“It’s fine,” Bucky forced a small smile. “I withdrew my name from the bowl. I didn’t need anything.”
Scattered chatter was whispered before they continued with the gifts. 
Bucky looked down at his watch an hour later, how much longer would he have to put up with this?
The double doors opened loudly and in you came. You quickly said your hello’s to a couple of your friends and walked straight towards Bucky. With a big smile on your face and a small bag in your hand. 
Bucky gulped as you approached him. 
“Merry Christmas Sarge.” You beamed, his brain was trying to process your words. Bucky felt like he’d never heard someone call him that, and no one should ever try to top it because it would never compare to how the word Sarge sounded coming out of your lips. 
“Me-Merry Christmas.” Bucky stuttered. 
“I’m your Secret Santa.” His eyes widened but it seemed like his reaction only made you happier. “I saw you pulling your name out  when everyone left so, I decided to pick it up for myself. I hope you like your gift.”
You were truly the human form of sunshine. He thought.
“C’mon, open it. I need to know if you liked it.” You pushed the bag closer to him. 
Bucky took it by the handles and peeked inside. It was a book.
He saw how you nervously fidgeted. 
“When I got recruited, I researched about you- well both of you, Sam and yourself. God this is embarrassing.” You fumbled with your words. “Anyways, I read that your favorite book was The Hobbit so, I tracked down a first edition copy since well, it’s been edited since it came out and I thought it would be nice for you to have something from back when you first were alive- not alive because well- Oh god, it was stupid right? Giving you a book? You probably don’t even have time to read-“
Bucky cut you off by wrapping his strong arms against your frame. 
“This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” He mumbled against your hair. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” You squeaked.
“This is incredible.” Bucky whispered, not knowing if he could get any other words out without his voice cracking. No one had ever done something as special as this for him.
“You made Barnes smile!” Sam laughed, patting Bucky on the back. “You should get a medal for things like that.”
This one's short and sweet! Hope you like it!
Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <;33
And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!
*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.
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A few different people have been observing that Scrooge begins to change more quickly in the book than is often shown in adaptations. The Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come isn’t the one crucial factor breaking his obstinacy, but rather a final message to drive home a point that Scrooge had already become receptive to. I want to trace the shape of Scrooge’s progress over the course of the book and see what it reveals. (There will be some ‘spoilers’ here, since the story seems fairly universally known even among those who are reading the book for the first time.)
After Marley’s appearance, he is disturbed and discomfited, but still trying to hang onto denial and not face what he’s been told.
With Chistmas Past, adaptations often treat it like a psych session - see, you hate Christmas because you were so miserable during it. But in the book, that isn’t the point at all. Scrooge sees times when he was unhappy as a boy, but he also sees what comforted him during those times - reading and imagination, which his adult self would dismiss asfrivolous and unprofitable - and recaptures his joy in those things. He sees times when he was happy, like at Fezziwig’s Christmas party. And he sees how he’s become the kind of person who made his younger self unhappy rather than happy, and how easy it would to be otherwise.
He sees himself asan unhappy child, and wishes that he’d been kinder to the young boy singing carols at the door. He sees himself happily employed with a kind, generous and personable employer, who could create a vastly more pleasant workplace climate at trivial expense, and wishes he’d been nicer to Bob Cratchit.
And then he sees Belle, and is shown that his unhappiness is of his own making and the consequence of hus own choices. His being the selfish, avaricious person he is is not the consequence of Belle breaking up with him; it is the cause of it. She saw him already becoming that person, and chose not to follow him in that path. Her choices left her a happy, loving and loved woman; his left him unhappy and alone. Scrooge cannot bear this, and rejects and fights the spirit rather than face it.
But he has nonetheless already begun to change. Whereas he initially did not want to go with Christmas Past (“a night of unbroken sleep would be more conducive to [my welfare]”), he willingly goes with Christmas Present and expresses the desire to learn and benefit. He sees people in all manner of circumstances, good and bad, choosing to take joy in each other’s company and the comforts, small or great, around them. Many adaptations fail in this, focusing Scrooge’s attention on the idea that people dislike him (Mrs Cratchit; his nephew’s joke) but in the book Scrooge clearly greatly enjoys his nephew’s party, the nephew is being good-humoured and generous and expresses his goodwill towards Scrooge, and Scrooge doesn’t mind the joke at all. He sees the Cratchits making the best of what they have, and how he is making their lives harder than need be. He sees, in many ways and places, how he could be making others happy and being happy himself, rather than making evrryobe miserable, and it is an appealing picture. And Present calls him out, several times, on his past words and sentiments, and Scrooge repents them.
By the time he meets the Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come, he is already willing and prepared to change, and making deliberate plans to do so. The thing that I think is emphasized through the scenes with Yet To Come, as a driving home of the point, is that Scrooge’s actions up to this point have not only made him and others unhappy - they are an utter failure at getting Scrooge the one thing he had prioritized: wordly security, respect, and dignity. In Belle’s words, his turn to avarice in his youth was in hopes of avoiding the “sordid reproach” that the world has for poverty. He was fine, and even pleased, with being feared rather than loved - what he did not want was to be patronized, despized, looked down on.
And now he sees where that got him! His business partners don’t even care to attend his funeral. Men whose respect he hoped to have gained don’t even give him a second thought, and for the brief moment they do, think ill of him (“Old Scratch” is Victorian slang for the devil). His chambers and even his body are plundered (tomorrow’s reading is even more graphic about this, in some lines, than most adaptations). He’s buried in an obscure, untended, weedy churchyard, because no one cares enough about him to make other arrangements. He has none of the worldly respect, regard, dignity for which he turned to money as a protector. Past and Present showed that he was wanting the wrong things; but Future shows him that he wasn’t even achieving the things he thought he did want, amd was in fact achieving their opposite.
The point of Future, then, is not to convince Scrooge to change. He has already chosen that he desires to change. Future alone, without the earlier spirits, would be supremely ineffective; showing Scrooge that his servant and the people around him hate him, without first showing him that he can be happy and make other people happy, would only make him more of a misanthrope. This is not a “scare ‘em straight,” as some adaptations play it. The point of Future is as a final guard against backsliding, against regret: you are losing nothing by changing, because your current path is losing you even the paltry things you sought to gain by it.
Also, I hadn’t really registered this on previous reads, but this is the very near future - the Christmas one year after the period of the book. This is never stated outright, but Christmas Present says of Tiny Tim, “If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race will find him here” - meaning, no future Christmas. And, in the visions with Christmas Future, Tiny Tim has died only a few days ago. In the words of Dante (paraphrased) “the time was perilously short for turning.” The Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come doesn’t teach the lesson - that’s the previous spirits - but he makes sure it sticks.
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jkslipppiercing · 4 months
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So show me | Part 1 | jjk
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♡ summary: your boyfriend has always been a fan of PDA, unlike you.
♡ genre: angsty, not really fluffy, a lot of frustration, miscommunication
♡ pairing: boyfriend!jk, frustrated!jk, whipped!jk
♡ warnings: oc is self-conscious, both of them are severely frustrated, not much in this lol, little bit of cursing, y/n is super horny, suggestive content.
♡ WC: 2.5K.
♡ a/n: well hello again! i'm back lol. this is the first part of the "show me" series! i hope you like it <333 this is my first go at angst, and im trying to ease myself into it 😭😭 i have zero clue as to what im doing please help <3
▪︎ general taglist
▪︎ index
▪︎ previous/next
enjoy!!
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"That'll be $22.50."
You smile sweetly at the cashier, opening your purse to pay.
Handing over the money with a grin, you thank her.
"Can I get it gift-wrapped, please? That would be great."
Christmas is about a week away, and the holiday vibes are clear as stockings and ornaments hang on every wall of the store. Decorated christmas trees shine with bright colorful lights and the festivity of the shop you're in makes you feel warm on the inside, in addition to the amazing smell of cinnamon.
On that note...why does it smell so good in here?
Christmas has always been your favorite holiday, multiple reasons why. one of the many is spending time with your loved ones...and buying them gifts.
Something about seeing them so happy just makes you feel happier by ten-fold.
The cashier smiles in return before she nods, holding the item as she turns her back to you and starts wrapping.
Meanwhile, you take the time to admire the little details of every single decoration-taking it all in- just when you feel a presence behind you.
Jungkook steps close, engulfing you in a tight embrace and humming softly. You welcome the feeling of security, humming back at his body warmth as he back-hugs you.
"Hey baby."
you giggle. "Hi."
"You done shopping?" He asks from above you, his chin pressing into the tip of your head. He had drifted off earlier on and left you to do your shopping, telling you to call for him if you needed any help.
"Yep. I asked for gift wrapping. Should be done in a few."
"Mmm, good."
Jungkook hums, dipping his head down. he inches towards your neck, resting into the crook of it and humming in a deeper- more suggestive- manner.
The sole sound has you kind of- blushing? Even though your cheeks never got that red, your eyes water and your breath hitches. You call it 'blushing' in your book.
He always does that kind of hum when you're doing a good job pleasing him...stuffing his cock-
His hands that were once wrapped around your arms and trapping you now release, only to circle around your waist instead, this time more intimately.
You love these kinds of moments, though you can't help but notice that the cashier is almost done wrapping your gift.
You find your eyes glued to her movements, almost anxious.
Jungkook's hand inshes dangerously close to your tit, and you grow slightly self-conscious in response, eyes still set strictly on the cashier's hands.
Her seeing you and your boyfriend in this situation would be kind of...awkward?
It's not that you don't appreciate the affection, you've just been more of a private person. Always loved to show love when alone, but never been a fan to do so publicly.
Jungkook, though? If PDA (Public Display of Affection) was a person? It would definitely be him.
Trying to voice out your thoughts, you whisper to him.
"Jungkook."
"Hm?" Again, that oh-so-beautifully-deep hum.
Fuck.
He snuggles his head even deeper into the crook of your neck, making it harder for you to think.
"We're in public."
He raises his head a tad bit, so you can hear him better.
"We're the only people here."
"Still, the employee could find it uncomfortable-"
"Are you uncomfortable?"
You're not.
You love jungkook.
Of course you're not uncomfortable.
You just care about people's opinions...a little too much.
Privacy is your thing, and you've always stuck to it- making sure not to make anybody feel a certain type of-
"Oh."
When you take too long to respond, your bad habit of overthinking the simplist of things pulling you under, jungkook's arms slip and waver.
He stays silent.
Jungkook was never silent.
He completely untangles and detaches himself from you.
"That's not-" You try to explain yourself, but the cashier beats you to it as they turn around and walk over to you.
"Here you go."
You accept the neatly wrapped box and thank her, rushing to leave. Your breath catches in your throat when you see jungkook already through the exit of the store.
You fucked up.
---
Under any other circumstances, you would've welcomed the pitter patter of the rain against the car's surface with wide, open arms.
But instead, you want to shrink; let the world split in half and swallow you whole.
Jungkook hasn't said a single word since you've left that store.
He went straight to his car, waited for you, then directly drove off as soon as you got into the car with him.
Not. A single. Word.
You observe him, taking note of how automatic- distant- his actions are. With one hand on the steering wheel, he rests the other on the armrest as he stares straight ahead. It's like he can feel your gaze burning a hole to the side of his face, but he's numb to the heat. Your eyes beg his own to look, but his are deaf...far; so far away.
You shouldn't have stayed quiet.
Mentally groaning at your stupidity, you lean your head against the window.
The rest of the ride home is silent.
---
"Jungkook."
No answer.
"You can't keep ignoring me like this."
Well, he can.
He proves that to you when he lets the barbell join the floor with a hard thud.
Only a small grunt of triumph escapes him, but otherwise; silence.
He hasn't spoken to you.
He parked the car under your apartment building- in its usual spot- exiting the car and heading to your home.
-silently.
He entered the apartment and left the door open for you, changed into his usual workout attire, and headed into his personal gym.
-silently.
It has been an hour since he's been in here, not sparing any effort to check on you.
You're getting quite frustrated with him. It's just- unreasonable.
He has his reasons for acting this way- you'll give him that- but where'd all the communication go?
You've been with Jungkook for well over a year now, and it feels weird; whatever this is. It hasn't ever happened before, probably because a similar situation has never occured.
You'd always hold hands in public, and it was never a problem for you.
But as a first real relationship...guess you were growing self-conscious about it.
What if they saw?
Will they speak?
Your train of thought cuts off as the sulking man grunts again, this time louder; intended to grasp your attention back to him.
He must've seen you zoning out.
"Enough, Jungkook."
Your words leave a tangy taste on your tongue. You really don't want to argue with him what-so-ever, but this is ridiculous.
he's being ridiculous.
You two could've talked it out to figure what the problem was- you should.
Instead, you're running after a person that keeps looking back to make sure you're still there.
He wants you to feel like you're genuinely being ignored, which is just- again- unreasonable.
Okay, the earlier...incident hurt him a little bit- and maybe a little more than that- that much is evident.
Jungkook merely scoffs at your words,
yet again ignoring you.
Fucking hell,
he's actually pissing you off.
"Giving me the silent treatment?" Your eyes sharpen with challenge, and his own light up with one of their own.
He leaves whatever he was doing to cross his arms and properly stare you down, almost belittling you- no, not almost, he is.
You've always known just how much Jungkook loves a challenge.
"Fine by me." Your smile is so sweet- but it's wrong. It's not the kind of smile he's used to.
And with that, you exit the gym, grab a random book, make yourself a cup of coffee, and prepare yourself for the long night ahead.
---
It's been...two hours.
Two long hours of utter torture.
And you've read a total of five pages.
Dammit.
Instead of reading, you're embarrassed to admit how instensely you've been ogling him for two hours straight.
He's just so hot.
The way he lifts weights like they're nothing.
The way his groans and grunts fill up the quiet space- and the whole entirety of your thoughts, leading them to other, much more sexual, places.
The way those exact sounds resemble the ones he's likely to make during sex.
You can basically feel your underwear sticking to you, your arousal evident.
For the first time since you've sat on this bench, stubbornly so, with your book and cup of coffee, he flicks a gaze over you.
Indifferently.
It makes your blood boil.
Your eyes lock.
his cold,
yours set ablaze by intense emotions of frustration.
You rip your gaze away from him to set it on your book, only to look back up at him two seconds later.
He slings a towel over his shoulder, grabs a bottle of water and unscrews the lid.
gently placing the bottle on his lips, he opens his mouth and chugs a mass of water all at once.
He repeats the motion once...twice... and your eyes are glued to the way his adam's apple bobs.
A thick lump forms in your throat, your breaths quickening. Must be...horniness.
You take the chance to properly look at him;
hair ruffled, body hot, muscles bulged.
Theres a slight sheen of sweat highlighting his neck, and a vein pops out from the way he's angling his neck up.
Your senses heighten.
He sets the bottle down, only to turn to you.
You try your best to hide the hormones.
Your eyes then trail down his neck to his collarbones, and you almost drool.
Scratch that, you're definitely drooling.
He looks fucking divine.
Well, of course.
He always does.
He looks as divine as it feels to love him.
You've always loved Jungkook. You still do. From the moment he waltzed into your heart with no foul intention and swept it off its feet, you knew you were absolutely done for.
Wrecked,
Ruined,
No longer containing any available capacity in your whole being to love anyone else.
Anyone but him. Even saying you love him more than you do yourself wouldn't be over-exaggerating...it would be true.
Call it obsession?
So be it.
A subtle scoff turns your attention back to him; body erect and all guarded up, his body language almost makes you tense up yourself.
You know for a damn straight fact that this is going to lead to an unpleasant conversation- even more so an argument- but whatever it is that's sizzling between you two like static electricity needs to die down.
It was never like this.
Tension,
Frustration,
Miscommunication.
"Bold of you to stare at me like that." His eyes never leave yours a second when he speaks.
He locks his hands behind his neck and rests them on his nape. His forearms bulge, and your eyes physically hurt from how hard they're trying not to gape at him.
Knocking his head back, he stares at you through his lashes with hooded lids and the most beautiful dark eyes.
You would've found the sight quite attractive- you do- but the subtle dig aimed at your staring attracts your attention more.
"Better get used to it, then." You stand, maintaining a protective stance yourself.
You're not angry, or...defensive, thought you might be a little shameless.
You just want this to end. For everything to go back to the way it was.
He smirks.
Your eyes harden.
"Oh yeah?" He lazily strides in your direction, and you cross your arms, almost acting nonchalantly.
Your irritation is evident and so is his, but the tension is so heavy on your shoulders, it makes your muscles tense.
His steps shorten until he's only a few feet away.
Not too close,
Not too far,
Yet feels like hundreds of miles apart.
"Wonder where that's coming from."
"Guess you'll have to find out."
This time, it's you who smirks when a sudden spark of challenge ignites in his irises.
"What i'd like to find out," He lowers his voice, his tone calm; in contrast to the dark storm reflecting the thoughts of his mind through dark, fogged up orbs. "...is what the hell on earth it was that happened today."
You stare at him, contemplating your options.
"I felt self-conscious."
The response is quick, but you're satisfied. You want to be completely honest. That's the best way to go at it.
You notice how he blanks out before you look away. Almost like he's fighting with himself over what to think of the response, his eyes portray the most intense feelings of complexity.
Quickly covering the slight feeling of confusion with frustration, his brows tug together, and in another context, you would've found the action to be adorable.
"Self-conscious? About us? What-" He scrambles to understand, and your eyes widen by an inch. "-are you- like- not sure about us? Anymore?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" You directly jump to answer his questions with one of your own. Your own brows join together, and the frustration builds further.
"Fuck, y/n." He gives you his back, walking in the opposite direction.
"What- I didn't even mean it like that!" Your voice raises slightly, purely in expression of desperation.
Why is this so complicated? It wasn't even that big of a deal.
He looks at you over his shoulder, his features bitter.
"How did you mean it then?" He scoffs, but his words come out quiet, serious, and clear of sarcasm. They come out hurt.
"Look- I just-" You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. "I don't want to fight."
You look at his feet, directing your gaze to a place where your mind doesn't feel overwhelmed. When you look at him, you want to look at his eyes, nose, lips...all of him. When you look at him, you see nothing but him. The whole world disappears when you do.
When you look at him,
You can't think about anything but how much you love him.
And right then it's like the whole world stops.
Like it's just you and him, in this gym, with nothing and no one else but each other.
"Fight?" His eyes rage with a thousand different broken emotions all fighting over dominance at once.
He shifts closer to you, only eager to show you the true weight of his love for you.
His index finger hooks under your chin and tilts it up to meet his eyes, only making your breath catch.
"I'd drop to my knees and beg if you wanted me to."
You feel your eyes water. There's nothing you could possibly think to say to him in this moment, except...
"I love you."
He returns a sad smile.
"Show me."
He cups your cheek.
Strokes it with his thumb, once.
Twice.
And in his presence remains a cool gust of air as his touch lingers and leaves a fire awakening.
Just then you realize: the fire that seems to spread further and further is that of love, nestled in between the teeny crooks and tiny nooks of your heart; the wildfire seemingly one of pleasurable pain.
Gone is jungkook, and welcomed is the loneliness as you hear the shower turn on.
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hope you liked it! dont hesitate to share your opinion <3
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Collide (2)
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Hello everyone!
Here is the rest of Collide, you can find the first part here, I obviously advise you to read it if you come across this part first… Otherwise you will surely not understand much!
A big thank you for your support, this story is longer and more thoughtful than the ones I have written so far, so it takes me much more time.
I really hope that all of you are having or will have a wonderfull Christmas. Take care of yourself and your loved ones ❤️
I hope you'll enjoy this part :)
TW : Alcohol, Angst and I think it’s ok like that!
World : 5.4K
PART 1 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7
______________________________________________________________
Time has gone by nicely since you arrived in London and your integration into the Arsenal team is no longer in doubt. You get along well with everyone, you participate willingly in the parties organized by your teammates and you even managed to make yourself appreciated quickly by the fans. Which is not a difficult thing as long as you play well. And without wanting to throw yourself flowers or play the presumptuous, you are more than satisfied with your performance on the field right now.
Alessia has become a very close friend and the fact that she’s your neighbor probably helps a lot too. You often go to the training ground together and it happens regularly that one finishes at the other apartment in the evening. You have become a bit of an essential element of each other’s apartment decor. You are also close to Manuela, your goalkeeper, and Viv makes you die laughing. You also enjoy spending time with Lia, even if she is very close to Leah who continues to torment your thoughts. Katie and Caitlin are great mates too.
After some time of tension between Leah and you following your defection during your kiss, you managed to find a cordial relationship. You can’t help but look at her when she doesn’t see you, you still feel very attracted to her. And it’s not just about physics, you find her funny, interesting and you have the impression that your souls are made to get along. But you’ve never been alone with her since the party. And you feel like it suits Leah like that.
You were getting ready for practice when your phone rings, somewhere in your apartment. After a few long seconds of research, you end up finding it under a cushion of your sofa and answers without taking the time to look who may try to contact you.
"Y/N, hi!" makes a joyful voice.
"Wally, what’s going on?" you ask, sitting on your couch.
You hear from the noise around her that she’s definitely driving somewhere noisy.
"I had to pick up Leah to take her to practice but I’m stuck in traffic and I don’t think I’ll be on time myself. Could you go get her, please?"
No? Out of question to find myself with my crush in the same space clot for twenty minutes without interruption miss Wälti, I am not sure to survive. Have you see this girl? The way her face light up when she smile make me want to...
"Oh, yes, of course" you answer, pinching your nose. "You’re telling her I’m coming?"
"Yeah, yeah, no worries. Thank you very much Y/N, see you later."
"Drive carefully. See you"
Your voice is just a mumble at the end of your sentence and you hang up before Lia has time to say something else. You always go early when you drive alone like today, Alessia having an appointment before training. You have plenty of time to get Leah, but you’re still very worried.
So you nervously take the wheel, driving to the blonde's house where you’ve already been to for one of your evenings. Before the kiss. When you park in front of her house, you take a few seconds to take a big breath before getting out of the car.
You press the doorbell a first time before sliding your hands in the pockets of your sweatshirt and you press a second time after a few minutes, when you realize that no one comes to open. You know Leah lives alone so maybe she just didn’t hear the doorbell the first time.
But your ear is drawn to a piano melody that makes you frown. Since when has Leah been playing the piano? You don’t have time to question yourself any longer, though, since your captain’s voice ends up in your ears.
"Come on in Wally, it’s open!" Leah screams
Ouch. So either she didn’t get Lia’s messages, or Lia just forgot to warn her. Whatever it is, you’re hoping Leah won’t take your presence at her place badly. You end up slowly entering inside, carefully closing the door behind you. Leah’s home is different in the daylight and you mechanically follow the melody of the piano that resounds in the house.
You end up finding Leah in a room that probably serves as her office, actually installed behind a piano. This woman is full of surprises. You don’t dare interrupt her, so you cross your arms and lean on the door frame until she’s done. You recognize a song by Shania Twain, but you can't remember the title of it.
When she’s done, Leah turns in your direction with a satisfied little smile. That quickly turns into a surprised frown when she sees you there. "Hi" you say before clearing your throat. "Lia is stuck somewhere in London with her car and asked if I could pick you up. She was supposed to warn you. Sorry, I guess she forgot to" "Oh, okay" Leah replies, getting up "It’s been a while since I looked at my phone, I may not have seen her message" You nod thoughtfully, tightening your arms around yourself mechanically while waiting for Leah to check her phone. You see a new smile lightening her face and you imagine that it is by seeing the message of the Swiss woman. You’re kind of jealous about the ease of their relationship, to have a friendship as strong as they both have... No, actually, it’s not a friendship you’d like to have with Leah. But you have to stay wise. Anyway, you doubt it’s what the blonde wants on her side. She’s not one to be in a long relationship. "Shall we go?" Leah’s voice cuts you off in your thoughts and you simply nod, taking off against the wood you were always leaning on. You pick up Leah’s bag mechanically as you pass the front door, which seems to both surprise and amuse her. "I can carry my bag, you know?" "Oh... I just thought with your leg... sorry" Leah does not answer, content to laugh gently closing the door of her home with a key. You mask your red cheeks by storing her bag in the trunk of your car and you hope to have found a casual face when you sit next to her. "I didn’t know you played the piano" you say after a few minutes of silence. Leah looks at you briefly and you feel like she’s holding back from saying "There’s a lot you don’t know about me," which is probably true. "I started it during the lockdown. I’m not really good, but I like it."
"What I heard was very good" you countered, looking at it in the corner of your eyes.
"Well thanks" Leah laughs and you feel your belly make a somersault "But I’ve been repeating this song for a long time. I have no right to tell you why for the moment"
"It’s a piece by Shania Twain, isn’t it?"
"Yes. You’re still the one"
This time, you see her turning in your direction to be able to better observe you. Is it done voluntarily or not, you do not know. What you do know is that you’re happy to have started a conversation that allows you to exchange without having disturbing silence in the car.
"Do you like country music?" asks the blonde
"Not really. All I know about country is that Miley Cyrus has a father who does. Does it count?" you ask with a laugh.
"I could hit you right now"
Leah has a smile when she says that, and it makes you laugh again. A new silence comes between you, but this one is nice. You are finally relaxed with each other since your party and you feel you can breathe more easily.
"We’re going to a Luke Combs concert next weekend. You could come with us, it would open you up to the country world?"
You bite your lip thoughtfully. You know many of them are going. Leah, Lia, Alessia, and so on.
"Less offered it to me a few days ago but I refused saying that I didn’t like to go to concerts if I could not sing the lyrics" you admit thoughtfully.
Your gaze clinging to the dense traffic in London doesn’t allow you to see the disappointment read for a few seconds on Leah’s face.
"I guess I’ll have to revise quickly"
To be honest, what also made you turn down that offer was not to make Leah’s evening unpleasant. You quickly understood how she can’t stand being away from others on the field and how these shared moments with your teammates are important to her. But that she still wants you to come also makes you exceedingly happy.
During the rest of the trip, Leah asks you about your own musical preferences and you tell her that you got stuck with the old rock and pop-rock bands you used to listen to when you were a teenager. A little Norwegian variety also thanks to your parents, whom she has never heard of but that doesn’t surprise you particularly.
********
"Looks good, your integration into Arsenal" Leila’s voice says from your phone as you cook yourself something for dinner.
"Frankly, I have nothing to complain about. They are all adorable" you answer sincerely.
"Adorable is not a term I would use for Katie McCabe"
You laugh softly and shake your head. You know perfectly well the reputation that Katie has outside the field, you have heard about it since your arrival in the English champion.
"She’s like a bulldozer on the ground, but outside she’s really nice. A hell of a character maybe, but I’ve never seen someone as loyal as her"
"Look at her, completely on the enemy’s side"
Leila laughs and you smile, rolling your eyes. Sometimes keeping friendships isn’t easy when you’re away or playing on opposing teams, but you’re glad to see that you seem to be keeping your bond with Leila for now. You obviously hope it lasts.
Two shots are taking at your front door before Alessia comes inside to drop on your couch. It’s become such a habit between you that you don’t even react to her presence.
"How was the concert?" asks Leila.
"It was good, sincerely. It’s not the music I used to listen to, but I liked it."
That’s the truth. You honestly didn’t expect to have such a great time. The good relationship between Arsenal players also exists outside the field and this spirit makes you feel like part of a family. From someone so far from yours like you, it’s more than pleasant. And that night you spent gave you an opportunity to spend some time with Leah too. Like a child who tests his own limits, you try to determine where the line is that you must not exceed. As if she were reading your thoughts, Leila resumes speaking as you mix what you cook in your pan. "What about Williamson?" "What about Leah?" You ask, taking a quick look at Alessia to see if she’s listening to what you’re saying. "Huh? Since you kissed, is..." You don’t hear the end of the sentence, jumping on your phone to cut the microphone. But it’s too late and you see Alessia’s face turning into a surprise. The amazement, rather. "I call you back Lei" you mumble to your friend before hanging up. "You kissed Leah?" Wide-eyed, Alessia has made her way to you. A big smile appeared on his face, but you startled when you heard him scream half. "Shh!" you tell her, as if you were afraid someone else would listen to you. "Why didn’t you tell me? When was that?" Alessia put her two hands on your shoulders and she shakes you gently, apparently more than willing to have answers to her questions. "At my moving-in party" you end up sighing. "And she kissed me." Well, you didn’t reject it to be honest. Well, at the beginning anyway. The rest, no need to remind. "Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your place?" laughs Alessia. "Why does it look like you killed someone when you talk about it?" "Because nothing has happened since then, we are probably not looking for the same thing. Not many people know, Lessi, you have to keep it to yourself please"
"Of course I will. But maybe Lia knows too, Leah say her everything."
"Maybe" you shrug.
"But still. You kissed Leah Williamson"
********
The break for international competitions arrive at à great time. You were able to see your family again, especially your parents and seeing your friends from the national team also make you happy. Your reunion with Ingrid was filmed and posted on social media, your embrace being visible to everyone. You don’t know what makes people not think there’s something going on between you, but you’re grateful that it’s going on like this. You like Ingrid as a friend and you don’t want to have to think about how to behave with her so you don’t hurt her girlfriend.
The results of your national team didn’t live up to your expectations however, despite the goals you were able to score. The disappointment must have been visible in the message that you tried to shoot positively on Instagram. You got some messages of encouragement from your friends, from Arsenal or not. You also received a message from Leah, the first one she addresses you directly on a Whatsapp band.
If you were sad to have to say goodbye to your best friend again, finding your Arsenal teammates is a pleasure. This feeling of being at home warms your heart.
"Hi Frozen" tease Katie at you when you see her for the first time, making you roll your eyes with fun.
This time again, the hug that you exchange with Leah lasts a little longer than the others and you smile at her when she pinches you affectionately the cheek. Maybe you missed her too much.
In the next game, against Aston Villa, you feel like Leah’s mind is somewhere else, but yours too. This is the first time in a long time that you will find yourself facing your ex and you know that Leah will also have to live with the fact that Jordan will be around.
Even though the blonde is still not playing, Leah participates in the briefings and is always around when you play at home.
No wonder, her love for the team and the club is now known to everyone. You haven’t been thinking particularly about Alina lately, Leah taking a lot of time in your thoughts. But you have to admit that to see her again, even from the back, training with her teammates, it does you something. You no longer have the slightest feeling of love for her, of course. Everything magically disappeared the day you learned about her infidelities. But you still have trouble swallowing betrayal.
"Are you okay here?"
You recognize Leah’s voice easily, but the hand on your shoulder makes you jump. Crossing her eyes, you quickly understand that she understood and you just shrug your shoulders.
"Yeah, I know. Come on, let’s go."
Leah’s hand slips on your back as she takes you to the small group forming by Alessia, Katie and Kyra. You find yourself regretting the feeling of her hand in your back when Alessia puts her arm around your shoulders in a comforting embrace. You nevertheless let yourself go against her, looking over Leah’s shoulder. From a distance, you have the impression that Jordan Nobbs was looking in your direction.
The game was hard, Aston Villa scored first and your team have trouble to find the back of the net. It last almost until the end of the game, until you caught Leah’s eye in the bleachers. From there to say that it’s her who gave you the impulse to go and score the goal, there is a world. But still, it’s only a few seconds later that you score. And a few minutes later, Alessia scored the winning goal, allowing Arsenal to win the match.
It’s probably cruel for the other team, but honestly you don’t care. You don’t get asked to show your joy, celebrating with Wally, Kyra and Alessia. You watch while a smiling Leah jumping into Alessia’s arms just before Katie comes to offer you a hug in her own way, passing an arm around your neck while strocking your hair with the other hand.
"Manu’s organising a party for tonight, are you coming?" says you a happy Katie.
When she gets your positive answer she releases you, literally pounding up to Caitlin. It’s by following her with your eyes that your eyes cling to a silhouette that you know very well despite yourself. Alina, standing in the middle of the field with her hands on her hips, looking disgusted. As you said, seen from the other side, the defeat must be bitter.
When she looks at you too, you hurry to turn your heels, only to rush straight into Jordan Nobbs.
"Oh… sorry mate" you mumble by rushing to run away.
You are relieved to see that the person who pulls you by the arm right after is Alessia, carrying you away from this situation. An amused smile is visible on her face, and you feel that she restrains herself from saying something.
"Don’t"
Alessia laughs and can only smile when hearing it, gently shaking your head. The fans in front of which Alessia trains you claiming photos and autographs, that make you forget easily what has just happened.
********
A few hours later, you’re in a nightclub with almost the entire team. Although we have to admit that everyone was a little scattered throughout the nightclub. Maybe you drank too much, too. Leah is here, of course. When she came to sit next to you with her big smile and her sexy outfit, you almost fainted. You feel like she’s doing it on purpose. But it’s nothing compared to the wave of chills that runs through you when she looks at you to say "Pretty goal, superstar". The ambient music forces her to have this behavior, but still.
It’s not the ambient music that will make her invite you to dance with her. If you refused at first, claiming not to know how to dance, you couldn’t resist her any longer. And you also noticed that others girls don’t seem against keeping Leah company. Of course, you have absolutely no right to be jealous, but that definitely tilts the scales.
You’ve been dancing with Leah for a long time now, to be honest, you’ve completely lost track of time. Your teammates are far too drunk around you to pay attention to you and none seem to have realized how your body seems unable to detach from Leah’s. Your body is attracted with the strength of a magnet by hers and as long as you had your back against her, you managed to fight against yourself and keep an almost clear mind. But when the last song changed, you stupidly turned around and you were hypnotized by the captain’s gaze. Your heart rate is faster, your breathing is more complicated and you have to fight with all your strength not to lean in her direction a few centimeters more to be able to kiss her. Her hands on your hip and in the hollow of your back hold you all against her and the arms you tied around her neck may not help either. It’s as if your mind and your body wanted two things and you were pulled from two sides at the same time. You’ve obviously noticed Leah’s eyes slipping regularly on your lips, seemingly wishing nothing but to kiss you. The message is very clear, it would be for anyone. But when Leah tries an approach and touches your lips with hers, you step back. You obviously realized that Leah didn’t even look at a girl other than you tonight, but the fear of getting screwed again is stronger than the rest. You only stepped back a few inches so you could look into Leah’s. If you haven't saw Alina today, maybe you would have kiss her. You certainly read a part of disappointment, perhaps even a little rejection, but also uncertainty. Does she think that she misinterpreted the signals you send her? That is not the case, of course. You are undeniably attracted to her, you don't want to lie to her either. Or worse, let her start thinking that you’re the one playing with her feelings.
"I’m sorry. I don’t want to be an extra number on your hunting board, Leah."
By your position, you feel Leah’s breath against your lips and it makes you half crazy. When you gently detach you from her, she lets you. You can see her jaw is tight, but you don’t feel like it’s anger. You can’t take the time to figure out what it is, before you decide to get out of there. You pick up your jacket and bag and go out, even unintentionally bumping into someone who hasn’t asked for anything on your way.
"Are you alright?"
A voice next to you makes you jump and you raise your eyes on a couple that was probably out smoking. The girl looks at you with special attention and you realize at this moment that your hands are shaking.
"Yes, yes, it’s okay" you mumble taking a deep breath.
"Sure?"
You nod again, both surprised and touched by so much soliscitude. Maybe there is still some hope in the human being?
"Do you know where I can get a cab?"
The one you imagine being her boyfriend points at you the end of the street. You thank and greet them, walking quickly going in the right direction. It only take you twenty minutes to return home, your mind haunted by the image of Leah, the sensations felt when your face was only a few inches from you. Regrets mix with relief and you still don’t know if you made the right decision.
You don’t even take the time to remove your makeup before hiding under your duvet. You want to call Leah, but this is the second time you’ve pushed her away in a short time. You will never dare to return to the training ground without having a terrible fear of running into her. You were wondering if you are going to contact your agent to ask him to propose you for a loan with another team when you hear someone knocking on the door of your apartment. "Y/N?" It’s Alessia’s voice and you realize no one saw you leave, except maybe Leah. You hiss when you feel the cold ground under your bare feet when you answer, finding yourself facing an Alessia who seems both relieved and annoyed. Her phone in hand, she seems to finish reading a message when she reports her attention to you. "Why didn’t you say you were going home?" Her tone is accusing and you pout, feeling like you’re being scolded by your older sister. But you can understand the worry. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you." Alessia still looks at you for a few seconds while squinting before sighing and slipping into your apartment. She hugs you before she lets you go. "You and Leah were missing, we were worried" she explains before going for a glass of water. "Leah too?" In spite of yourself, you feel the anxiety rise suddenly. If something happened to her because of your behavior, you will never forgive yourself. Worry is easily detectable in your voice, as Less hurries to comfort you. "Yes, but she’s home. Lia found her there. What happened?" "What do you mean?" You mumble looking at your feet. "Well you both disappear, you’re closer than you’ve ever been... But you don’t have the face of someone who had a nice evening"
"I screwed up" you sigh softly as you cross your arms on your chest.
Your gaze is always fixed on your feet and you frown, trying to remember the meaning of your memories and thoughts. Alessia knows what happened with Alina, the deception and everything, it’s not for nothing that she remained close to you physically speaking today. In the field, at least.
Alessia doesn’t answer anything, waiting patiently to see if you want to continue to explain yourself or not.
'I panicked. There’s this kind of attraction I’ve had for her from the beginning and the more I try to fight it, the bigger it gets. It’s like every thing she did or said is what I expect her to do, without me even knowing it."
You looked up at the blonde this time and she watches you talking, holding her half-empty glass of water in her hand. Her eyebrows are ruffled, but she looks more pensive than upset this time.
"We managed to catch up with the bond we had after I pushed her back. But tonight… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about what happened with Alina all day and… I panicked. I don’t want to be heartbroken again."
This time it’s a compassionate smile that appears on Alessia’s face, which is content to extend your arms as the very first answer. You accepted and snuggled up against her, sighing softly. She didn’t steal her nickname of Lessi Bear.
"I think you should talk to Leah" Alessia says after a few seconds.
"I doubt she’ll want to talk to me again"
********
You were right. You don’t know if it’s voluntary or not on Leah’s part, but you haven’t seen her since the nightclub. She seems to have changed her physiotherapy and training schedules so she won’t run into you again. And you have to admit that it hurt your heart. But again this reaction is probably very selfish, if you are both there it is only your fault.
Your mood has deteriorated throught the days when you feel someone sitting next to you in the locker room. You look up expecting to find yourself in front of Caitlin who has her locker next to yours, but instead it’s Lia who addresses you one of her famous smiles.
"Are you okay?" she asks and you ask yourself in the first place if she’s not making fun of you.
But it would mean not knowing Lia at all.
"Good. What about you?"
Lia nods, still armed with her smile, while you finish putting on your sneakers. The training session has just ended, you are showered and changed and ready to go home.
"I was wondering if we could talk together?"
"Of course."
You get up and follow her, wondering what it is. Lia trains you with her in the cafeteria of the team, currently completely deserted. After having caught yourself drinking and sitting at a table, you look at her with an undisguised curiosity. If you really like the Swiss woman, you’ve never really exchanged one-on-one.
"Is everything okay?" You can’t help but ask her, afraid she’s in trouble.
"Oh, yes. It’s not me I wanted to talk to you about, it’s Leah."
You make a slight grimace but nods gently, your look staying on the cup of coffee you ordered yourself.
"I’m sorry if I intervene in a way that is not my business and you will have the right to scold me later, but I think it’s time someone did"
You look at her again a little surprised. Faithful to her country of origin, Lia is far from wanting to conflict with anyone. However, the fact that she wants to take the risk of doing so is a testament to the importance of what she will say.
"Leah told me what happened between you two"
Lia gives you an apology smile, but you told Alessia and Ingrid about it so you just nod. It would be rather inappropriate for you to resent Leah for needing to confide to someone.
"I don’t know who told you things about her, but what I do know is that Leah has been my friend since I came to Arsenal. She was always loyal and honest with me. When my ex and I broke up and I was lower than earth, she came home every night to try to cheer me up. She is sincere, kind and much sweeter and more tender than what people want her to be."
You know, you’re uncomfortable. You are one of those people who preferred to listen to what people was saying about Leah at the worst time, when she showed you during all these weeks that she is the girl that Lia has just described to you.
"I don’t know your past Y/N and I’m not judging you. But I really believe that Leah is genuinely interested in you. If it were just for one night, she would have moved on for a long time especially after you told her you don’t want a one time thing"
You remain silent for a few seconds, during which you assimilate what Lia has just told you. Passing a hand through your hair, you end up looking up at her.
"Anyway, it’s too late now. She must hate me, right?"
"I think you should talk to her about all this"
You bite your lip, realizing this is the second time you’ve been advised to do this in a few days. Unfortunately, this could be complicated.
"How? She doesn’t even want to see me here anymore"
Your desperate look seems to amuse Lia, or at least she smiles while rolling her eyes.
"By extraordinary luck we’re in the 21st century. You can either contact her via your phone or go to her house to talk to her"
Lia’s amused tone makes you smile slightly. She’s right, but it’s not so much your style to impose your presence somewhere. Your interlocutor must understand your reticence, since she puts her hand on your arm, making you look at her again.
"I will not speak for her, but she also suffered in her past. The only thing holding you both back is a lack of communication. I’m sure it can be fixed."
********
Right in front of Leah’s house, you don’t remember being so nervous for a long time. After thinking long and hard about the conversation you had with Lia, you then had to think about how to approach Leah. The blond continues to flee you like the plague and even if contacting her by message would probably be easier, you are not sure if she answers you. If the blonde has many qualities that have made you fall under her spell, she is still atrociously stubborn and resentful.
You turned in your head several scenarios, again and again until you became half crazy. Then you had enough. Sitting on Alessia’s couch in front of a particularly lame reality TV, you suddenly got up. Alessia gave you a worried look but you just threw at her while leaving her apartment
“I’m going to see Leah”
Your voice was clear and determined, making her understand that your decision was made. After shrugging her shoulders, Alessia lay down again in front of the television.
“Okay. But maybe change your pajamas first.”
Interrupted in your way, your hand freezes on the doorknob of the stricker’s apartment. Your eyes slide on your polar pajama bottoms with avocados drawn on them.
A grommet escapes from your lips as you open the door, triggering Alessia’s laughter behind you.
_____________________________________________________________
Merry Christmas you all 🎄❤️
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