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smutoperator · 2 months

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Room 922

Im Nayeon x Male Reader

Tags: ass eating, creampies, dirty talk, edging, female masturbation, footjob, grinding, head-bobbing, hotel room, lingerie, lube, (a very) naughty tongue, no-hands blowjobs, riding, rimjob, uncut cock, window sex

Word count: 5326.

Paying a tuition for medical school isn't easy. You were seeing it as you had to work all day in a hotel to make money. It was a very tiring job where you were responsible for cleaning many rooms a day before heading up to your university. Today specifically, the hotel seemed even fuller, as you were told a Korean pop group would be stationed there.

"You have service for room 922," your superior said. Climbing up to the 9th floor this early wasn't something you were very keen on doing, yet you had no choice. To make things worse, the service elevator was broken. After a long climb, you finally found the room you were called to. Greeting you was a woman in white lingerie.

"Hello," Nayeon said. "You must be the cleaning guy," she continued. "Yes, I am," you said, a little embarrassed to look at her in such an outfit. "You've got a lot to clean here today," Nayeon continued. "But I was told you just arrived," you replied. "Well, not that usual cleaning," she said.

"What does she mean by that?" you think to yourself. Meanwhile, Nayeon grabs her butt and shakes it in front of you, staring at the hotel's window and the city's beautiful morning skies. "It's all yours today, that hot body," she then says. "What?" you ask, baffled. "I-I-I can't do that; stop," you back off. "Of course you can; just close the door and let me give you a dream experience in this room," she replied, spanking her own ass in the process.

Nayeon kept moving her body, waiting for you to take the initiative. However, you just remained frozen while watching her wiggle it. "Are you going to do anything?" she asked. You finally decided to move, grabbing Nayeon's ass. You were surprised by how fit and toned it was, running your hands all over it before giving it the first few spankings. "This is amazing; your ass is so hot," you told her. "Yes, baby, I know," she said as she kept jiggling it. Her thong was so small that you could already see the meaty outer lips of her pussy. Holy shit, who was this insane woman, and why was she doing that?

"Ahhh," Nayeon let out the first moan as you couldn't resist diving into her still-clothed butt and smoothering her tight ass. "That's where your face belongs," Nayeon approved, grabbing the back of your head and pushing it further against her ass, moving it left and right, and enjoying it as she turned her face to see it. "Hmmmm, yeah, that face is really into my sexy ass," Nayeon laughed and bragged. "Oh, fuck, yes, it is," you confirmed.

"Ahahaha!" Nayeon kept laughing at how hard you were simping for her butt, shaking it in the air once again to tease you. "Wanna see more of that hot body, baby?" she rhetorically asked as she pulled her bra to the side and unveiled her already hard nipples. She loved your reaction to it, still baffled at how a stranger could be so bold to do that to a hotel employee with no restraints.

You got on your knees and stared at Nayeon's body, especially her lips, both the ones at the top and the ones at the bottom of it. Suddenly, she pulled her panties to the side and showed you her already throbbing cunt, running her hands all over it. "I like those pussy lips," you told her. "Me too," she said. Nayeon had long, dangling inner lips, which she then spread out for you, and you tasted the juices of her pussy.

"Lube my tits; I want them very shiny," she said, giving you a tiny bottle of lube that you poured on her milkers, rubbing it all over them as soon as you stopped. "Oh my God, it's so slick," she said as she grabbed them. Nayeon then started teasing you, moving her panties in and out before finally taking them fully off, turning around for you to see her fully naked ass, and spreading her cunt and butthole for you.

"Wow, it's amazing; you're so fit," you told her. "Thank you," Nayeon said. "Now let me see what you're hiding under those pants," Nayeon asked, which you promptly followed, showing her your already hard, uncut boner to her. "I can see you're liking it a lot," Nayeon said as soon as she took a look at the size of your throbbing erection. "I love it," you confirmed to her as she turned around and teased her pussy for you, fingering it in front of your face.

You finally got up, getting face-to-face with Nayeon. Your hard cock already pointed straight into her cunt, making her eyes brighten. She held your shaft and rubbed her pussy lips into it, tasing her entrance to you, who groaned as the friction of her grindind turned your cock throbbing red. Nayeon licked her chops, ready to taste an uncut cock for the first time in a long while.

"I already want to taste that cock; I want this so bad; I'm so hungry for it," she told you in front of your face, her bunny teeth glowing as she said each of those words. "But I'm going to take my time with you today," she continued as she kept grinding on it, getting her nipples even harder and moving up and down, side to side, on it.

It was Nayeon's turn to get on her knees and worship that swinging, uncut rod. Without using her hands, she sucks your tip almost dry in just her first attempt. She then moves further down that cock, already starting it very sloppily and running her hands down your shaft, moaning while sucking it. "Fuck, that really fits well in my mouth," she says, teasing you, then starting again, this time running her hands all over it, before moving them down to unhook her bra.

Nayeon gets the tip of your cock very wet, covering it with her saliva, before bobbing her head on your cock increasingly fast. Watching her suck it from above is a spectacle, especially seeing that she does all that hands-free, truly showing how much of a master of cock-sucking she is. As she finishes, her saliva sexily runs down her chin.

"That foreskin—I haven't seen one in a while," Nayeon says as she kisses your cock. You wouldn't think she would be so into a piece of tissue, but a cock like yours is rarely seen in her home country. She laughs and then licks your tip while holding the foreskin. Her naughty tongue drives you crazy, sweeping all over that throbbing tip.

"Fuck," you say, out of breath, as she keeps kissing and sucking your cock sloppily. You can't resist and start pushing your meat up her mouth, but quickly, Nayeon shows who's in control, picking her panties from the ground and using them as a "cock ring" on you, resuming the sucking and bobbing. This time, she goes for the kill, deepthroating your shaft for the first time and holding steady until she finally gags.

Nayeon continues her cock-sucking show, this time going in and out of it with her mouth and still using no hands, looking at the shadows of your swinging cock that the sun hitting the window casts on the hotel room's floor, before resuming her insane and very loud head-bobbing, before holding your cock all the way inside her throat for a good 30 seconds.

After freeing your cock from her custom "ring," Nayeon starts masturbating your shaft. The thing she enjoys the most by far is covering and uncovering your tip with your foreskin, like she just got a new toy to play with. "So good," you tell her. "Hmm, so you enjoy the way I stroke that cock?" she brags as she keeps doing it but now moves down your balls. You groan out of her overstimulation as she already takes your sack fully in her mouth and spits all over it.

Nayeon increases the pace of her stroking and gags hard on your balls. "YESSS!" she gleefully screams as your shaft pokes her face, before moving up to suck it loud once more using no hands. Once she is done, Nayeon sits down and starts rubbing her pussy in front of you. "Ohhhh," she moans as you watch her hands work all over her clit. As soon as she gives you a glimpse, you can already see the wet juices all over the surroundings of her vagina.

Nayeon takes three fingers deep into her already wet cunt, turning her masturbation louder as her pussy gets wetter and wetter. Her moans drive you wild, as she also starts humoing against the floor, drinking her juices as soon as she finishes them, and fully sticking her tongue out for you. "God, you're so hot and sexy," you tell her as she licks her lips and her sloppy pussy juices stick onto her chin, then goes back to your cock, getting herself on all fours to suck your cock, once again bobbing her head like a maniac, taking it deep in her throat to the point where she forces you to pull out to avoid cumming.

As you move closer to the room's bed, Nayeon follows, crawling on all fours towards you. As you sit on it, she dives her mouth straight into your balls while you try to distract yourself by looking at the skyline. Your pole swings up and down at each lick she gives you before standing straight just as she closes her eyes, giving you a beautiful view of your cock and her face side by side.

"So good," you say as Naeyon spits on your tip. "I know you're feeling desperate; just let me edge you," she says. And she's completely right, as you have completely forgotten about your job and only crave for her. "Stroking it nice and slow, up and down, up and down, making you want to cum so bad. But if you want to cum for me, you'll have to fuck me, hmmmm," she says as she jerks you off.

"Look at that fucking cock; all it wants is that wet, tight pussy," Nayeon continues. You can only groan as she keeps edging you and laughing at your despearation. She strokes your cock fast now, her mouth just taking the tip in as she coughs on it. "Oh yes, I wanna spit all over your balls and tongue, that dirty fucking asshole," she tells you as soon as she's done with it.

You spread your legs and give Nayeon easier access to your sack and anus. She rubs her hands around it before closing her eyes and diving that tongue straight into your butthole, moaning inside it. Her tonguing is so good and nasty. Nayeon suddenly opens her eyes and now has her right hand stroking your dick as she stares at you while her mouth keeps working inside your asshole, her legs jilling to tease you as well.

Nayeon gives you one hell of a lick that starts at your anus and goes all the way up to your tip. You can only grunt, as her naughty tongue has you under full control. As she goes back down, she spits on both your balls and asshole before sticking her hand in her tongue to taste further. "Fuck yes," she says as she goes deeper and deeper inside your rim, then laughs as she moves around it, then increases the pace of her sloppy tonguings.

Barking like a puppy, Nayeon moves up and sticks her tongue into your balls before masturbating your foreskin as she rubs your shaft on her face before inserting it in her mouth and putting your balls resting right between her boobs. She really enjoys that uncut toy so much, gagging all over it and playing with her spit before moving back down to your asshole. "Holy fuck, that shit is so good," she says. No words come out of your mouth; all you can do is take a deep breath as her moves have you on the verge of a heart attack.

You try to get up as soon as Nayeon gives you a little break, but that's a short lift. She's already there to stoke your cock, her eyes closed and her tits popping out better than ever. "That cock looks so fucking wet," she says, praising the workings of her tongue as she rubs your tip against her nipple.

"I'm scared you're gonna cum for me, not yet, boy," she says as she now concentrates the stroking around your tip before diving on it once again. "OHHHH. FUCK!" you scream as Nayeon gives you her sloppiest blowjob yet and gargles all over that meat. She holds herself on your thighs and goes back to her signature head-bobbing, praising your cock after she finishes. "Look at that cock so fucking big, craving to get into my pussy," she says, doing a measurement between your shaft and her face, noticing that your length had surpassed the extension of it.

"Can I put it in your pussy?" you ask as soon as Nayeon finishes her blowjob and gives a major spitting on your shaft. "Uh huh," she says, giving you the green light. "Turn around, please," you tell her, getting a beautiful look at her toned ass. "So good," you tell her as your tip rubs against her skin. You pick up that bottle of lube she gave you and pour it all over her now shiny ass, groaning as Nayeon starts grinding it on your shaft, placing it right in her ass crack. She looks at you while stroking your cock, loving how out of breath you already are without even getting inside her.

"My filthy hands are sliding all over that cock." Nayeon smirks as she strokes your cock, getting it ready to fuck her as she slides your shaft between her legs. "Oh yeah," you say as soon as she does it. "Yes, baby, please," you say as she moans while inserting just your tip inside her warm pussy. Her tight hole squeezes your shaft from the start, getting you more and more desperate.

"Oh wow," Nayeon says as she fully sits on your big cock, making it disappear between her ass cheeks. She looks at your massive bulge under her belly in awe, then laughs as she moves laterally. "God, your pussy is so nice and warm," you tell her. Nayeon rides your cock at very unconventional angles, almost as if she wants to snap it in half, before finally switching to a straight bounce. You can only watch and tell her how good it is, as Nayeon has no issue moving up and down your big shaft, moaning each time she reaches the base of it. This is, indeed, way better than any anatomy class.

"God," you say as Nayeon keeps gyrating on your cock. "Oh, that feels so fucking good; I'm just gonna keep riding it like that," she says as she bounces up and down your dick before stopping midair and putting a finger in her asshole, giving you the order, "Fuck me." You push your cock upwards, hungry to stretch her tight pussy. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," she moans as you keep thrusting up her cunt.

Nayeon gets so overwhelmed that she has to regain control of it. "Oh god," she says as you hit deep in her cervix, her cheeks clapping hard now as she increases the pace of her riding before suddenly stopping and switching to a slow but sexy grind. "This is perfect, this is perfect," you say as Nayeon moves her ass sideways around your cock before going back to a straight ride. "There you go, there you go; just like that, make them clap," you tell her once she resumes bouncing.

"OHHHHH YEAHHHHH," Nayeon screams as you two clash. You push up, and she pushes down. Nayeon spanks her own ass at each bounce, turning it red in front of you, then ducks her head down to a point where you can only see her butt bouncing. "OH MY GOD, YES, YES, YES," she screams just before she pulls out to taste her juices, giving your cock a kiss as if she were thanking it.

"Let me stroke it for you," Nayeon says as she sits on the floor and takes her shoes off. "Yes, stroke my cock with your feet," you tell her, getting closer as she puts them right between that huge shaft. You lube your cock to give her an easy stroke, but Nayeon truly doesn't need it. Blowjob, rimjob, footjob—any sex act ending in a job is one she has mastered a long time ago, like a true hard worker.

Nayeon moans as if you were still fucking her; she really enjoys the friction of her feet, especially with socks on and a hard, uncut cock, once again sticking her tongue out like the naughty girl she is. Nayeon starts moving faster with her feet, so much so that it sleeps out of your cock. She seizes the opportunity to push your foreskin up and down, enjoying it a lot as she starts fingering her pussy while doing so.

"Fuck my feet," Nayeon demands. You thrust your hips in the air, thiking of fucking her pussy in all fours as she laughs, pleased with your efforts. "Just like that," Nayeon says as she gets even more opportunities to see that throbbing tip pop out of your foreskin. Her feet preesing your cock are no different than her pussy's tightness after all, as the space you slide between them is roughly the same size as her hole.

"Hmmm, you're getting harder for those feet. Fuck it like you're fucking my pussy," Nayeon says, sending you over the moon. You pound the air as fast as you can, closing your eyes as she pushes you to the limit. Thankfully, she stops just as you were about to cum, rubbing her soles on your shaft and tip to caress them. "So fucking good" is all you can tell her.

Nayeon keeps playing with your foreskin as her soles now massage your cock, before she resumes stroking it with her feet. You soon follow and go back to fucking them, leading to more laughs and smirks from her as she lies on the floor. "Harder," she tells you as you push your cock between her soles. Once again, Nayeon wins the battle, as her stamina is much higher and she outlasts you, stroking your cock for a while before you stop pushing it.

"Let me see this nice ass," you tell her as Nayeon gets on all fours, the sun from the window hitting straight at her. You place your cock right between her ass crack, leading her to start grinding on it without even looking at your dick. She would definitely love the way your tip went in and out of your foreskin, making a big noise each time it popped out of it. You add extra lube to make her humping easier, as Nayeon now moves faster and then starts slapping your shaft on her butt.

"Ahhh, yes, yes, yes," Nayeon says as she finishes it. But soon, she'd go back to praying to God as you inserted your cock back in her pussy. "Shhh, they might hear it," you told her in a snap that you were actually supposed to be working, not fucking one of Korea's top pussies. But instead, she just laughed and cursed further as you moved your hips and fulfilled your dream of fucking her on all fours.

You panted at each thrust as Nayeon's vagina crushed your cock to the maximum. "Just like that," she said as her asshole was winking every time you pumped inside her. Her moaning got more frequent while you fucked her faster. "Don't stop fucking me," she said, her face all the way down the floor. Nayeon slapped her ass as you kept fucking her while also moving her hips sideways. "Please, keep going; fuck my pussy," she continued.

As you stopped to catch your breath, Nayeon kept moving, bouncing on your cock for a few seconds before you pushed inside her with all your might. As soon as you got tired again, she repeated the move, but this time you just let her do the work, as she also started fingering her clit while doing so, her juices coating all over your huge shaft.

"Stretch me out," Nayeon demanded as she now stopped bouncing, giving free roam for your cock to go as deep as you could. "Oh my Godddd~~," she said as her voice cracked. You took advantage of her weakness and went harder on her, making her scream even louder as she started biting her nails with your cock filling her cunt. But in the end, she loved it, giving you a huge laugh as you stuck your cock at the deepest point of her pussy, staying in there for quite a while.

As you resumed pounding, Nayeon was now completely submissive to your big cock, just trying to hold her tiny body while getting manhandled nonstop. "OH FUCKKKKKKK~~ PLEASE. YES," she kept screaming, her tits bouncing hard as you mounted her like an animal. But you could tell how much she enjoyed it as soon as you got closer to her face. She winked at you and also gave you a hot kiss. Nayeon was now just a hot mess of moans and screams, a sleeve to your cock.

"Let's go to the window," you told her. Nayeon stared at it and crawled in its direction, putting her elbow on it as she started shaking her ass once again. You repaid Nayeon's rimjob, eating her ass as she looked out the window. She started humping her fit ass on your face while you moved your tongue inside her butthole. "Take a look at this nice ass," Nayeon says as you grab her cheeks firmly now, your head shaking to the rhythm of her ass.

You put Nayeon's right leg at the window as soon as you are done, giving you an easy entrance back into her pussy. "Oh yes," Nayeon moans as you put your cock inside her, pumping fast as soon as you get there, leading her to cling to the window's support and not fall down. "AHHHHHHHH, JUST LIKE THAT, FUCK ME. TREAT ME LIKE A WHORE, AHHHHH." Nayeon starts to scream, and it gets even louder once you reach under her and start fingering her cunt as you pound her hard. Her legs quickly get weak and fall out of the window, making it easier for you to pin her against it.

Nayeon has to hold onto the window just by one knee. As you destroy her pussy nonstop, she clings onto you, leaving her right arm in her face. But instead of caressing her, you spank her butt: "That's for you to learn not to be a whore who fucks every cock you see on your sight," you tell her. Nayeon just moans, overwhelmed by your hard pumping of her cunt: "Oh God, Oh God." For the first time, you had the upper hand over her.

"Fuck," Nayeon says as you pull out and turn her around, grabbing her by the neck. You give her a torrid kiss as she gets pinned hard against the window, with you now facing her. You take it slow, getting very passionate with her. But it doesn't take long before you go back to pound her hard, craving to destroy that tight wet cunt, as her ass and back hit the window every time you hit her with your fast thrusts, with your balls clapping hard against her clit, leading her to cling even harder into your body. "YES, YES, YES, YES, AHHHHHH," she scrams as you don't seem to be able to stop.

Nayeon starts to cum in front of you as you stop to kiss her for a long while, running your tongue all over her naughty mouth. You detach from her as you watch her body shake before getting on your knees and eating her pussy, aiding in her orgasm as her juices fly into her face. "Ahhhh, it's so good down there," Nayeon says as your tongue sticks deep inside her folds. "That mouth all over my lips, ahhhh, oh fuck, just like that," she continues as she grabs your face to bury it deeper in her cunt.

As Nayeon finishes releasing her juices in your mouth, you move back closer to the bed, calling her to follow you. It takes her a bit to arrive, as she's still recovering from her orgasm. But once she does, you let her have the bed all to herself and lie on it sensually, as she's already spreading her legs, ready for more. "Sit on that cock, sit on that cock," you demand, putting yourself on the edge of the bed.

"Like that," you say as soon as Nayeon slides inside your pole, giving you a sexy moan as soon as she does. Nayeon moans as she gets impaled, but quickly goes hard in a killer reverse cowgirl ride, gyrating in your cock as she moves up and down, her moans getting sexier as the ride goes on.

"Look at the pussy; you're stretching it so well; what an amazing cock!" Nayeon praises your big dick as she goes deeper. "I'm crazy for your fucking cock," she continues as she starts laughing as you lose your stamina and starts with her bouncing harder and harder. "Oh my God, this is amazing," you say just as Nayeon slows down and switches to deep rides that fill her entire cunt before bouncing on your cock sideways and getting even more insane.

"What a great fucking cock," Nayeon continues, enjoying the ride to the fullest. "I love the way it gets deep in my pussy," she says, going back into a fast ride that drives you crazy. "Come closer," you tell her, allowing you to thust up her pussy as you now grab her tits. "Oh my God, yes," Nayeon says as she grabs your knees and watches your legs move up and down at each thrust. Now she's the one holding her tits, pinching her nipples as you pound her faster; her laugh and her naughty tongue are always present.

Nayeon closes her eyes and puts her hands on her clit, increasing the overstimulation. Your cock and her hand are fighting to see who can fuck her faster, putting both of you on edge. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," you pant as you get increasingly out of breath. "OH FUCK!" she simultaneously screams, her boobs getting bouncier and bouncier until she cums again.

Nayeon stops with your cock fully impaled inside her; she spreads her pussy for you to see as she releases her juices all over your cock, then pulls out to give it a little massage with her hands, followed by her grinding on it. Nayeon places her thumb on your tip, making some cracking sounds as she massages your dick and keeps edging you, her hair all messy and covering her face. She places her pussy right at your shaft and keeps pressing it firmly with her right hand, once again playing with her favorite foreskin as she jerks you off.

As Nayeon gets off your lap, she sees your hard pole in full strangth, perfectly pointing to the sky and reaching all the way from the bottom of her pussy up to her navel. But she seems to want more, and she keeps jerking it off. Truth be told, Nayeon just loves how you suffer every time she does it and has to hang on for your dear life just to survive her edging you, as she gets very turned on and fingers her pussy simultaneously.

You stay on the edge, as Nayeon doesn't seem eager to stop at any moment, only stroking it even faster and then moving her feet to do the job. She really enjoys that tip hiding under your foreskin and then popping out full force each time. "Such a good girl; you're so fucking hot" is all you can say to her. Nayeon agrees, but a good girl needs a reward, and she's finally ready to get it.

"Stretch that pussy for me; that cunt is beautiful," you order her, doing the teasing now. Nayeon does, and you can see her dangling lips itching for that dick as they throb and wink, and she keeps touching herself until some naughty words finally come out of her mouth.

"You know what I want? I want you to cum for me, and I want it all inside," Nayeon demands. Holy shit, she's really gonna let you fill that pussy up. You go wild and stick your cock deep inside her as soon as you hear those words. "Hmmm, yes," Nayeon approves, sensing the urgency in your expressions.

Nayeon spreads her legs as your cock sticks deep in her, clinging to the pillow on the bed as you go faster on her pussy. She laughs and enjoys every second of it, moving her hips in sync with yours as you pound her and make her tits bounce hard. "Yes, pop, pop it; I know you want it," she says in between moans as she puts her hands in her neck and chokes herself, sticking her naughty tongue out.

"Keep choking yourself," you tell her, noticing it has made her pussy tighten. "Yes, fuck," she says, looking at you with begging eyes. After a while, you decide to do it yourself, placing your right hand on it while you fuck her harder. "Please, please, please, please," Nayeon begs as she waits for your cum. You get rougher on her as you start slapping her bouncy tits now and then pinching her nipples.

"You want my cum?" you ask her. "Yes, cum in me, baby," she answers, fingering her pussy and tightening her walls even further. Not even 10 seconds later, you start groaning as you finally manage to fill her up to the brim.

"Oh yes," Nayeon celebrates as she puts her legs up in the air. Your sperm starts leaking out of her pussy and filling the bedsheets. "Push it out," you tell her as she does it and laughs, spreading her pussy lips. "Oh my God, you're so fucking amazing," you tell her, still out of breath.

Nayeon tastes your cum as you put your cock back in. "I know you have more; unload the rest of it on me," she begs. Nayeon puts her hand in her mouth as her tits swing back and forth with each pump, but she can't wait for long until she screams again: "FUCK, YES, PLEASE," she says, her face fully buried on the bed's pillow now.

"Come on, give me another one," she says. "I love my pussy getting fucking covered in cum," she continues. "AHHHHH," Nayeon moans, which she muffles with the pillow on her face, her pussy tightening and leading you to unlond inside her for a second time.

You kiss her passionately shortly after, telling her how amazing she is and how much you wanted this to never end, then move down to give both her boobs a kiss as well. Nayeon is overwhelmed and in love with the way you fucked her, laughing as she opens her legs and shows you her cream-filled pussy for the last time.

"Thank you for coming into my life," you say. "Thank you," she replies. However, you guys can't even enjoy the moment for long, as your superior gives you a phone call shortly after.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" they say, as soon as you pick it up.

#nayeon smut #twice smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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cinnaminsvga · 2 months

Text

Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits.

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country.

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend.

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly.

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank).

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored.

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that.

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was.

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment.

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage.

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction.

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!”

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?��

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks.

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding.

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone.

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still.

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him.

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident.

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way.

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture.

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you.

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you.

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”?

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot.

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly.

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute.

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night.

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?”

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively.

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically.

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying.

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason.

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching.

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding.

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly.

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face.

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you.

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text.

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time.

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy.

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense.

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him.

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement.

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him.

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same.

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray.

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him.

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream.

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name?

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers.

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform.

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?”

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful.

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything.

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight.

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom.

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through.

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do?

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought.

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift.

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance.

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage.

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology.

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years.

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug.

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache.

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor.

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well.

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song.

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers.

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten.

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him.

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him.

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick.

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses.

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer.

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you.

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears.

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant.

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder.

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back.

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky.

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought.

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster.

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one.

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook.

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind.

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you.

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs.

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again.

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out.

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you.

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent.

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix.

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it.

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow.

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles.

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter.

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope.

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that.

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it.

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears.

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer.

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too.

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers.

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare.

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind.

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class.

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel.

But you do know, the universe responds.

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond?

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing.

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation.

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat.

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance?

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air.

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you.

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door.

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic

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flowershines · 6 months

Text

Unbearable Feelings

School Rival Virgin. Jungwon x F. Reader

Summary: Two academic rivals have to share a tent and an enclosed area from the class due to not enough space. (Huddle for warmth)

Warnings: Smut, mentions of baby trapping, rivals, virgin Jungwon, switch Jungwon, car break down, mutual masterbation

Song to represent Unbearable Feelings:

Hallways filled with people as they moved from one class to the other, glancing around the hallway as music ran through your ears trying to keep your mind occupied by reviewing the vocab you had to study for your next class. Mumbling as you tried to remember the phrases, looking up to try and think of the words that were somewhere in your mind, letting out a frustrated sigh as you just could not remember. Taking out the paper from behind your phone as you swiftly look at the phrase and repeating the french translation in your head, glancing at the wall closest to you still repeating the word and its definition in your mind. Moving onto the next line you said the phrase in your head then referring to see your paper if you had gotten it right, you did.

Feeling a pair of eyes look at you, your gaze was met with the one guy you despised, don't get me wrong he was okay and everything but you both had always wanted to be the top of your class. Debate after debate you would win then him then tie then repeating that order, you never understood why he always argued back all he talked about was getting into his dream job but getting into that business doesn’t depend on a stupid debate that you had won so why was he taking it so serious.

Quickly breaking eye contact then softly returning your gaze to him a figure appeared in front of you, turning your head to the wall and letting out a huff of air, a headphone was pulled from in your ear into the boy's hand. “Go away, Jungwon.” He placed his hand on his chest and opened his mouth as a way to act, referring to how ‘offended’ he was. Rolling your eyes he said, “I’m actually great company Y/n, see now you would notice if you really cared.” “Wow that's crazy cause honestly I don't care about you enough to want to know.” Opening your eyes wide and leaving your mouth open ajar to show your sarcasm. “Ouch, what’cha studying?” He asked, ripping the paper from your grasp, looking at the paper, “You don’t know these, I already know them all.” “Yeah okay.” a sarcastic laugh fell from your lips. “Say the English, I'll translate for you since you're having a hard time.” scoffing at his confidence you replied saying “Send a text message.”

Turning to him waiting for his reply “Envoyer un texto, évidemment stupido.” ( _, obviously stupid.) “Ha Ha very funny, how do you say I am a very ignorant man?” turning to him waiting for an actual answer from your sarcasm, “Je me tiens à côté d'une petite fille ignorante.” (I'm standing next to an ignorant little girl.) “Va te faire foutre.” (Fuck you) walking faster to try to get away from him he speeded up his pace as well, “Wait where are you off so fast?” “My class, just leave me alone, I don't know why you love to bug me.” “Was it something I said?” “Isn’t it always?” You told him walking faster as he stopped walking and just stood, finally arriving at your class you put your phone in your bag and continued to study your vocab till your mind was occupied on the paper your french teacher put over your paper lifting your head you saw her giving one to every classmate, including Jungwon.

Looking back at the paper you read from top to bottom, ‘French Trip, all students who wish to partake in this trip must give a $10 fund and sign the paper below. The trip starts 1.12.23 till 3.12.23 when finished hand in back to the teacher when done.’ Maybe this will give you some time to yourself which is much needed, spending time at your apartment with your roommate isn't always your favorite thing to do, she would always bring people over when you studied but it just made you want to work harder so that way when people see the new person you would become and how successful you were would be the best part.

But of course Jungwon just loved to ruin these things for you, he always had since you both started the same school. His priorities were your priorities, not to mention the business he wanted to go to was not even the best job out there, being as smart as he is you thought he would want to get into a better job but it was a business that almost everyone gets into. I mean if it's his dream who were you to stop him you just thought it was odd. Class was like any other class with Jungwon starting by the teacher teaching the lesson following by you asking a question on the assignment as Jungwon tells it to you and proceeds to make a blunt remark following his explanation back to you telling him off, starting an argument with him till the teacher tells you both to stop and get your work done.

But today was different. You didn’t ask any questions and just stayed to yourself the whole class, making no remarks, nothing, you barely even spoke to your classmates. You could feel Jungwons gaze seeping in through your soul, refusing to look up at him. You just continued with your work till the teacher assigned the homework and made a joke saying how quiet the class was that day, making the class look at you and Jungwon even then you didn't say anything. She passed out the homework then dismissed the class, standing up putting your bag on your chair. You took out your folder and placed the homework in there then proceeded to put it in your bag looking up from your bag you were met face to face with the one person who made you want to stay quiet that day.

“What do you want?” You asked while zipping up your backpack then putting it on, “You were quiet.” “Yeah so?” “Nothing I liked it, you should do it more often.” Lips touching each other making a straight line across your face then nodding. “Noted, you done?” “Yup.” Rolling your eyes and shaking your head he walked right by your side till you were by the doors to leave the school, “Where are you going we still have English?” “I know, I'm not going.” Opening the doors, he asked “Why?” “I wanna go home, I'm tired.” not waiting for his response you left the building getting your car keys out from your back, you knew it wasn't the best thing to skip out on English but it was the last class and you had nothing major going on that day.

The whole rest of the day you spent in your room studying and trying to make up the english work that you missed, she had emailed you the work as you told her you weren't feeling well and had to go home. The next day walking into the building was the same thing as yesterday going to the same classes, French class was the same as well you turned in the slip as the trip would be later today. Whole class she told the people who were going on the trip to stay in the class and the rest who weren't going to the library and study for any other class, almost the whole class left except for 6 other students not including you. Of course your favorite person in the whole world had to go on the trip as well, but you just figured you wouldn’t talk to him and actually enjoy yourself without him.

You noticed how for the past classes you had with him, he hasn’t made any comments, no rude remarks, barely tried to talk to you, no arguing, nothing. A part of you felt at peace with yourself being able to do all of your work and had extra time to study for upcoming topics, today was the day you had the trip. Being so excited to be by yourself with your classmates that you never really minded except Jungwon, you minded if he was going. Heading home from school you start to pack your bag with your pj’s, toothbrush, toothpaste, blanket, outfits, the book you had been reading in your free time, along with other unimportant things as well. The french teacher emailed the individuals to meet back at the school around 4:30pm being 4:05 you changed into more comfortable clothes then headed to the school, arriving there a couple minutes early you see almost all of the students that were attending including the teacher.

She had told everybody the address of where the place was, telling everyone their partner who they would be driving with as they would take one person from the pair's car. As the teacher called out the pairs the only person who you hoped not to get you had gotten as a partner, he looked at you as you looked at him pulling your eyes away from his stare you refused to look back at him not wanting to look at him as you will for a couple of hours already, great.

“We are taking my car.” You told him as he came closer to you after the teacher had finished talking, not giving him any time to respond back you started to head to your car surprisingly he followed in your footsteps back into your car. Unlocking you placed your bag in the back seat waiting for him to catch up and held out your hand to tell him to give you his bag, he reached his hand up to yours and placed the bag handles in your hand.

“So this is what it feels like to have you as a personal slave.” “Yeah, don’t get used to it.” You gave him a sarcastic smile and shut the car door behind you walking over to the driver's side of the car. Starting the car you see Jungwon in your peripheral vision putting on his seat belt and acting all sporadically holding the seatbelt with a tight grip. “The fuck are you doing?” “You got a helmet?” “Why would I have a helmet?” He shrugged “For your passengers.” “The seatbelt should be enough.” “I don’t think so Y/nie, your driving isn't the best I see you swerve all the time.” “Bull shit, I’m a good driver you on the other hand that's a different story.” He giggled at your remark, you softly smiled as you found his smile heartwarming but thought to yourself why were you smiling at him, HIM.

Immediately putting a straight face on not wanting him to see you smiling at his smile, putting the car into reverse then starting to drive Jungwon was being as annoying as he can distracting you so much from driving, “Omg Jungwon shut the fuck up.” He slowly turned his head raising one eyebrow making a disgusted face, “So mean” He signed sarcastically looking down pretending to be upset at your remark. After glancing at him you returned your gaze to the road, hearing a loud noise coming from the back of your car, “Did you just get rear ended?” “No, it sounded loud but we didn't get rear ended.” Blinking his eyes in confusion, “You sure?” you hummed at him to let him know that we were okay. “Then why are we slowing down?” “Jungwon shut up, I don’t know.” “It’s your car you should know.”

Rolling your eyes you pulled over on the side of the road, you put the car in park not wanting it to move as you went to check out what happened. Unlocking your seatbelt and stepping out of the car swearing to yourself as your tire was flat against the pavement on the side of the road, “I heard you, is everything okay.” he asked from the passengers in the car, “Flat tire.” stepping out of the car he appeared in front of you on the opposite side of the car as he slowly walked over to you to see the condition you guys were in. “You got a spare on you.” “No.” “Hasn’t your boyfriend or anyone ever told you it would be a SMART idea too.” “Well I don't have a boyfriend so nobody ever warned me about this stuff.” “So what would you think if this ever happened?” Looking directly at him shrugging your shoulders you, “Just call someone or hope for the best i guess.” He huffed and rolled his eyes pulling out his phone from his pocket, he ran his fingers through his hair frustrated as he couldn't get a signal, the only lighting found from the woods was the light of his phone that was resting in his palms.

“Are you getting a signal?” Taking out your phone as well and going to make a call nothing was going through saying the connection failed even trying the emergency call, it would only let you call the police. It wasn’t that big of a deal to call the police so you decided not to. “No, what are we supposed to do?” Looking up at him with doe eyes, holding your arms as a gust of wind ran through your hair along with the t-shirt you were wearing. “Maybe we should just stay here till someone comes or till we get a connection.” Walking back to the car you sighed before getting in as tears brickled at your eyelashes threatening to fall, Jungwon noticed before he was able to get in he shut the door of the passengers side making a tear fall down your cheek from being scared and embarrassed. All of the sudden the door on your side was opening to reveal him standing at your door.

He grabbed your wrists and took them so you weren't sitting but standing outside the car door, he pulled your wrists around his waist letting go then placing his hand around your neck. “It’s not your fault, these things just happen, it's nothing to get upset over.” He told you to pull away, looking down at you, wiping away your tears, hugging you tighter. “We can still have a good time if that will make you feel better, I brought a tent with us.” You looked up at him then hugged him tighter, he giggled. “Is that a yes?” You nodded against his chest, pulling away you cried even more noticing how you had gotten mascara smudged all over his shirt. “I'm sorry.” You told him sniffling as your hands went to your face to hide yourself in the state you were in, “Don’t worry about it, I bright extra shirts.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side of the car where all of your things had been in, taking out the duffel bag that had the tent in it and placing it in your arms. He grabbed a shirt from his bag and followed you into the forest not that far away from your car and not too deep into the forest as you had never seen the area before not wanting to walk into random animals territory.

Unzipping the duffel bag you went to turn around to ask him for help but you were faced with a shirtless Jungwon standing in front of you, not saying a word you quickly turned your head around, face starting to heat up you tried to pull your mind away form the image you just saw but you couldn't he just looked so gorgeous like that in front of you. He walked over to you with a smirk on his face as he was biting the inside of his lip, “Can’t look at me now, Y/n?” not saying anything you continued to act like you were busy reading the instructions he pulled them out of your hands, still not looking at him you looked into the woods. “Look, it's so pretty.” You were referring to the moon shining down on the trees making the river that ran through the trees sparkle, “So pretty.” walking to stand in front of you making perfect eye contact with his cock.

“OKAY.” You said shooting up from your spot, “Let's make this.” He smiled and took the lead looking at the instructions and starting to build the tent. Not long after the tent was all built you got off from your knees as you were pushing the tent pegs into the ground to make sure that the tent would stay in place. Unzipping the tent and crawling in you went in and sat down in the corner as you watched him get in the tent as well, “I’ll go get the blankets, you want anything from the car?” “Just my bag please.” “Such a polite girl.” He said, exiting the tent grabbing the things, hearing him walk back he came back and threw your bag at you, “You know what time it is?” “Like almost 10 I think” He pulled out his phone to check the time, “10:34” yawning, you covered your mouth and turned the other way not wanting him to notice how tired you were, “You tired?” He asked while setting up both of your beds.

“Nope.” “You're such a liar.” Shaking his head while giggling at your comment, “Just go to bed.” “But you're still up.” “Yeah I stay up late, go to bed if you're tired I'll still be here when you wake up.” Smiling softly at his comment as you noticed how he has never acted this soft around you before, he moved aside letting you be able to crawl to your spot, “I still have to get into my pj’s though.” “Nobody is stopping you.” “Turn around.” “Y/n I won't look, I swear I'm still making my bed.” “Swear.” “Pinky swear.” Taking off your sweatshirt and shirts from your bag you started to stake off your shirt as you made direct eye contact with the man in front of you, he immediately turned back around. Continuing you took off your shirt and put your sweatshirt on standing up after you're done and pulling down your pants grabbing your shorts that barely covered your ass and putting them on. “Okay, all done.” He turned around to look at you, he just stared at your thighs in awe his cheeks blushed not being able to look away it looked like he was in some sort of trance. He slowly looked away in embarrassment knowing that you saw him staring at you that way, he crawled into his bed as you got into yours as well he went on his phone and turned around so that way he wasn't facing you. Shutting your eyes and drifting off into your dreams you were awakened by shivering throughout your whole body, no light was being portrayed in the tent.

“Won?” He hummed back, “Are you cold?” “No, are you?” you hummed he sighed, “Come over here.” Unzipping your sleeping bag you crawled over to him and he had it held open as his back was now against the tent, so now he can see you. “Is there going to be enough space?” You asked him, “I don’t know, just get in here.” He shook the sleeping referring to how you should get in, crawling in next to him getting as far away as possible but still being able to zip it up again. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer and zipped up the sleeping bag, “So far away, you scared of me or something.” He asked sarcastically whispering in your ear, a shiver trailed down your spine from being this close to him and feeling his breath on your neck along with on your ears as well. “No?” He hummed, “You should be good now, go back to sleep.” following his suggestion you closed your eyes once again, fading away into dreamland, waking up you noticed you heard some noises coming from Jungwon behind you. Turning towards the side you noticed him still sleeping, rolling back to the side you were just on and closing your eyes thinking that you were probably just imagining the sound, but the noises got louder as you felt something rubbing up against you upper thigh. NO FUCKING WAY, IS HE… NOO.

Shuffling was heard behind you as a hand trailed down to your waist turning around you were facing him eye to his closed eyes that were closed tightly shut, his face alone made you think of him in certain ways. His eyebrows were knitted together, his eyes tightly shut, the veins on his neck were popped out, nose scrunching up and his bottom lip was placed in between his teeth. You felt something tap on you then go back, was that his dick? Heavy breathing was heard from him as his you would hear his breathing stop then go again the go but shake as he let out the air. Soft moans were pulled from his mouth, you just watched as he fell apart right in front of you his hands around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer thrusting his cock up against you rubbing against your pussy. A moan loud enough for you to hear fell from his lips from the friction, staring at him butterflies filled your stomach as his thrusts became more intense as his breathing became less clear and all over the place.

His eyes fluttered, not wanting him to catch you staring you immediately shut your eyes pretending to be asleep. He moaned the loudest as his hip shuttered against you, he had woken up just after he came which was starting to seep through his pants and onto your bare thighs. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He whisper shouted not knowing what to do, he pulled the waistband away from his putting his hand down his pants. “I came?! Oh shit, she asleep?” He sighed in relief seeing you ‘sleeping’ beside him, he let go of his pants and slowly unzipped the sleeping bag and exiting it. He cursed to himself as he went to crawl over you his leg ran up against your thigh realizing that there was a wet spot on his leg, lifting up the sleeping bag he noticed his cum dripping down your thigh trailing down to your ass.

He swore he could cum again just from seeing that sight, “Oh Fuck, what do i do? Fuck i’m still hard to.” He looked down noticing the tent in his pants, picking up his phone he checked the time it was almost 2 he was exhausted and just wanted to be in his bed which would allow him to jerk off to the dream he was having about you. He wanted to jerk off so bad seeing his cum on you along with remembering his dream he had of you made him moan to himself he quickly placed his hands i’ve this mouth scared that you would hear him, digging through his bag to find something to wipe off his cum with. He found the t-shirt that had your mascara on it and decided he would use that, he slowly lifted up the sleeping bag and saw how the his cum was now on your ass cheek. He softly ran the t-shirt down your leg then around to your ass he but his lip trying to not make any noises as he ran the shirt along your ass, he went towards his bag and pulled his pants down below his thighs and trying to get his cum that was on his pants on the t-shirt.

You stirred to his side he stopped his motions and placed the t-shirt over his dick thinking that you were awake but was relieved to know that you were still ‘asleep’ you opened one eye as he turned away staring at how he struggled to grab his cock from it twitching, grabbing the base he moaned slightly pulling the shirt he was wearing in between his teeth to silence his moans. Grabbing the tip of his cock he ran the shirt along his slit wiping off all the pre cum that was leaking from his tip, getting the sudden urge of confidence you decided to say something. “Won?” You couldn’t look at his eyes but staring directly down at his boner that was twitching from lack of touch and due to the cold air, his head shot up from looking at his cock in disappointment to looking at you as you looked at his dick.

Seeing you stare at him filled with lust in your eyes made him twitch as he quickly pulled the shirt over his dick making you look at him directly in the eyes, “It’s not- I swear- Y/n-” “Relax Wonnie, I was already awake.” you said sitting up, he tilted his head to the side “Huh?!” “You were moaning rather loudly and when I tried to fall asleep you came on me.” “OH. My. God Y/n i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to i just hand a wet dream about you and couldn’t help myself when you were that close to me, i’m so sorry if anything happened that you were uncomfortable with. I can go sleep in the car-” “Won relax it’s okay.”

His breathing became rapid you started to go near him to calm him down but as you did his cock twitched each step closer you took, “Wha- What are you doing?” I was just going to cuddle with you so maybe we can fall sleep again, “I don’t think that’s a good idea Y/n.” “Why?” He looked at his cock then slowly brought his gaze up to you, “I couldn’t control myself the first time so i definitely can’t the second now that you have seen me like this.” “I can help.” You say energetic, “WHAT?!?” “I’m being serious you said you had a wet dream about me, i can make it come true.” “No Y/n I can’t make you do this.” “But i want to.” he chewed the side of his cheek. “Y/n if you just saying that please just tell me-” You pulled him in by his shirt over to you kissing him on the lips leading you both to a messy make out as you travel down to his collarbone, moving onto his lap straddle him as his cock twitched against your stomach bringing your hand down to his dick and starting to jerk him off. He places his hands on your ass as his head tilts back and moaning from your touch, his eyes were filled with need wanting more, wanting your pussy.

Wanting to shove you down onto the sleeping bag make you beg for his cock then shoving his dick in you then fucking you senseless, but making out with him more he leaned forward slowly as he softly placed you down onto the sleeping bag that you and him had just been in. Fiddling with the bottom of his shirt you tug on it lightly as he sits up and grabs your wrists and slowly trailing them up you knew that he wanted you to take it off, soon after taking off his shirt he grabbed your waistband of your short shorts and tugged them down to your ankles as he then took them off for you.

He was mesmerized staring at you in adoration loving every movement you were doing, he stared at your panties which had a tiny pink bow right in the middle his fingers ran through the loops of the bow as you took your sweatshirt off. “So pretty.” He said playing with the bow and waistband placing his hand inside your panties rubbing your clit as you ran your fingers long his slit, he grabbed his dick and ran it along the outline of your pussy. You both moaned from the sudden stimulation from him dry humping your pussy slowly, you moved your panties to the side taking his dick in your hands and running it along your bare pussy. “Please need to be in you, i’ll be good i swear.” “You have a condom?” he shook his head but rubbed his cock along your pussy lips, “Just the tip then, no more then that.” Instantly spitting on his tip for lube as he started slowly pushing in the head of his cock moaning loud enough you thought the birds in the trees could hear, you placed you hand over his mouth to shush him.

He slowly started to move in and out of your pussy one hand grabbing onto your tit for more support while his other hand was jerking off the base of his cock, “Y/n need more, need to feel more of you please.” “Fine but I do the moving so lay down.” he quickly obeys your order and lays down on the sleeping bag. Cock straight up in the air waiting for you twitching due to the anticipation getting up you crawled over to him and got on top of him straddling his lap your pussy just inches away from his dick, grabbing his base he moaned from your hand on him while you aligned him up to your entrance. You kissed him just hovering above him, he wrapped his arms around you bear hugging you as he pushed his cock up into you bottoming you out making you moan from the sudden feeling of him filling you up. Whines fell from his mouth talking about how good you feel, how so hard he is for you, can stay in you forever, never wants to leave this position and how he wants to feel you cum around his cock. “Please Y/n need to feel you cum around me, it’s all i’ve ever wanted, need you so bad it hurts please can i move?” Nodding your head he thrusts into you two times slow and taking his time but on his third thrust he pushed so hard up into you while his hips kept fucking up into you fast, during one of his rapid movements his cock fell out of you leaving a whine from his lips.

“Your so perfect, I’ve always wanted to bend you over those desks and fuck the attitude out of you.” He huffed and kissed your ear keeping his heavy breathing right by your ears, he moaned in your ear shocking you but it was because of how you were clenching on him cause of his moaning louder and squeeze you harder his cock started twitching in you, you started to rub your clit as you would clench on him more. He loved the sensation of your pussy squeezing around him, you stared to sit up he let go of you and placed his hands in your waist you brought your fingers up to his nipples as he stopped his movements to roll his head back as his body rolled back to his dick making his movements continue even header this time. “Y/nn- I gott- I gotta cum-” “Then cum.” “Where do you want it?” You started to think about his question thinking about where it would be the easiest place to clean the mess up after. “Y/n I n-need an answer- now!”

His hands went below you to be ready to pull out and cum where you tell him to, “Just cum in me.” “I’m not playing Y/n tell me now.” “In me.” you slammed down on his hips, “I’m not gonna c-cum until you tell me somewhere else, please Y-Y/n need to so bad. If you w-want it in you can w-we please-e talk about this first.” getting off of him you brought your head down around his dick as he took both sides of your head and thrusted up into your mouth not caring how you gagged below him. After he finished cumming you looked up at him as his cum was dripping down your chin, picking it up with your finger and putting it back in your mouth then swallowing all of it. “Thank you so much, I mean it Y/n.” “You weren’t that bad.” he looked down disappointed, “Hey i’m just kidding I loved it you did so good.” you tackled him with a hug laying on him. “I was a virgin by the way.” he said looking down at you, putting your hands on top of one another placing your elbows on either side of his body you responded saying, “I know, usually if a guy isn’t really a virgin they just cum in her no questions asked and it was your wet dream whining that gave it away for me, but it was so cute.” you smiled big from ear to ear. “Did i do good?” “You did great, we should do it again some time!”

He pulled his arms around you turning to his still holding onto you as you cuddled into his chest right before falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. “Goodnight Y/n.” He kissed your forehead before falling asleep holding you.

#smut #fluff #enha x reader #enhypen smut #jungwon smut #jay smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut #enhypen #jungwon

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sohnric · 5 months

Text

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.

wc: 21k

warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.

working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.

a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to

ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say.

You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.

Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no.

Until one fateful day, of course.

You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.

“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.

“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”

“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”

Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.

“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it….

Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.

“Wait– newbie–”

The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”

“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.

Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.

“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.

“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.

You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job.

Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.

“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.

His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”

“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.

“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.

You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.

Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall.

You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.

What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.

Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you.

Why?

The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy.

More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.

It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy.

Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.

The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take.

He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch.

He just laughs.

Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window.

The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.

Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.

The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.

When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.

That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.

Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.

The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness.

There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.

His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence.

It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?

His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.

“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.

As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.

Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side.

“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”

“My dad’s watching.”

“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.

Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”

You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.

You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.

Oh, how foolish of you.

You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.

It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.

“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.

“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin.

The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.

“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.

Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!”

If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news.

The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today.

That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift?

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.

“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.

Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out…

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”

“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.

“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”

With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.

Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.

“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.

“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building.

“I know what those are–”

“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.

“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.

“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?”

You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”

“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”

“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”

“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall.

…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.

Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.

Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.

“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.

“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to.

If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same.

A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.

“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.

“Sunwoo–”

“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”

And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.

And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.

Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face.

It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.

It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.

You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.

You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.

You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)

There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.

You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.

This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate.

The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.

“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?

“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.

“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”

“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.

“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve).

“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.

Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.

“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.

“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.

A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on.

And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work!

Wrong.

Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie.

There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working.

Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.

“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”

Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs.

“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.

“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?”

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more.

“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.

You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”

“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.

“Look, I really can’t-”

“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.

“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool.

The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.

You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life.

Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)

In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours…

Yeah. Not too many.

So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half.

The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)

Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted.

Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…

Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…

Wrong.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.

“Fuck, man–”

“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye.

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”

Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.

“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.

“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.

“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”

“Kim Sunwoo–”

He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”

You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.

“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.

“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”

The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk.

“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.

“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.

You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.

“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)

Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”

Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face.

Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.

It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.

Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.

Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.

Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth.

“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.

Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.

Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside.

He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)

Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.

Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency.

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not.

His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema.

Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.

You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.

“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak.

Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.

“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”

The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now.

“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment.

“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.

“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation.

“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening.

A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)

The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.

You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?

The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.

“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.

Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”

A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.

There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure.

You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.

Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.

You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on?

“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.

Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.

“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat.

“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”

“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”

“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.

“What…?”

A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.

That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.

There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.

Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or.

Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.

“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”

“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.

“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.

“Probably,” he admits.

You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.

Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”

His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”

“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…

And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions.

It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.

Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.

Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket.

It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control.

“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.

“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”

“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.

He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”

“Listen, I won’t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”

Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning.

“So?”

Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?”

Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you.

“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way.

Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”

“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.”

Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.

It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.

“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–”

“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.

“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.

“I’m sure he will.”

Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers.

You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”

“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”

“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.

You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”

“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement.

“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.

“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”

“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”

“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”

“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall.

You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”

And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside–

only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold.

As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.

It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.

And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.

“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.

“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”

One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.

“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you.

Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.

Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.

You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain.

You force yourself not to care.

Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle.

“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.

“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.

“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.

When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs.

“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.

Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.

You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.

“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.

Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game?

Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.

“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.

Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.

You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun.

The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.

“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.

“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video.

Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.

Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt.

When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”

“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”

Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”

“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.

“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.

“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.

“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.

“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”

“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.

Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.

“Oh come on–”

“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything.

Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.

Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.

A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.

Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.

“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.

Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it.

Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.

It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.

The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.

“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema.

The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours.

Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.

All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.

“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.

“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.

“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”

A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief.

“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says.

“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”

Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.

“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.

“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice.

“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold.

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.

Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”

“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite.

“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”

“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment.

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”

“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.

“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Y/N, come on–”

“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.

Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.

“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)

Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look.

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else.

The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?

You decide you no longer want answers.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)

You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.

Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express.

You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.

Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.

“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?”

Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.

“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”

“Grab a chair…?”

You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though.

And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.

“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.

Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross.

Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.

The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)

“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual.

“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.

“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”

Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.

“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N.

“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”

“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”

“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks.

Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.

Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.

“What–”

“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.

There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool.

A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.

The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.

They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him.

The choice is yours.

Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild.

He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.

As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do.

Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt.

He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.

The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?

“Why–”

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.

Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him.

His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by.

Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.

“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.

The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.

His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.

Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.

“Sunwoo!”

The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”

The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.

Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.

You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.

Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now.

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.

It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates.

You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks.

The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.

It’s the first snow of the season.

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.

He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.

You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.

Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”

The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.

The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.

It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.

Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.

Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.

Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.

More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face.

The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.

The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head.

“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male.

He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.

Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.

“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.

“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land.

His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.

Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color.

“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”

“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”

The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”

Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?

Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh.

The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really.

One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.

1K notes · View notes

punkshort · 15 days

Text

Roommates | 3. fun in the sun

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Maria organizes a getaway to Lake Travis for a long weekend. You invite your new boyfriend, but things quickly deteriorate, leaving Joel to help you pick up the pieces.

Chapter Warnings: language, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), semi-pubic sex, fingering, hand job, description of a panic attack, heartbreak, food consumption, golf

WC: 8.4K

Series Masterlist

Charlie was cute.

Well, cute didn't seem like the right word, and handsome sounded too stiff. But he was both those things and more. You discovered he was also very dapper when you met him for lunch one day during work. He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt. One button was left open at the top, revealing a sliver of his tanned skin underneath. You almost felt out of place wearing what you thought was one of your nicer dresses when he took you to some steakhouse you never heard of that didn't have the prices on the menu and you began to wonder how he didn't own a home yet since he appeared so successful.

"I never have the time to look, to be honest," he told you with a shrug. "Work keeps me busy during the week, and even some weekends. Then between grocery shopping and laundry and occasionally going to parties and meeting super pretty girls," he smiled with a wink and you giggled, "I just never find the time to house hunt."

"I guess I got lucky with Maria doing all the heavy lifting for me," you joked as you picked at the remains of your salad.

"Yeah, and she did a great job. It's a good starter house," he said with a nod before checking his phone.

"Mm, I don't know about starter. She was hoping to raise a family in that neighborhood one day. She really likes the schools."

Charlie made a little noise and you glanced up. "What?" you asked with a small smile.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Charlie said, setting his phone back down on the table. When you tilted your head and gave him a look, he sighed. "It's a fine area of town, I just personally would prefer to raise a family elsewhere."

"Oh, yeah? Like where?"

"Barton Creek would be great," he said, and you nearly choked on your drink.

"Barton Creek? That's like, so expensive," you laughed but his mouth didn't twitch. Your smile slowly fell and you said, "are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. You wouldn't want to live there?"

You huffed and sat back in your chair. "Yeah, sure, in my dreams. But I could never afford something like that."

Charlie leaned forward and took your hand. "But one day, maybe you could. If you go back to school at night and really apply yourself, it would only take a few years-"

"I told you I'm not interested in becoming a lawyer," you said, smiling up as the waiter cleared your plates. "I'm happy doing what I'm doing right now."

"Well, I'm just saying. You're young, there's options out there. You should really give it some thought."

At the time, you thought Charlie was being sweet and encouraging by trying to help you reach your full potential, but you would later discover you were wrong.

"I want to get out of town for a bit," Maria said at family dinner one night. You all looked up at her, bracing yourselves for whatever she had already planned in her head. "What do you think about renting a spot on Lake Travis?"

She immediately clocked the table's hesitation. "Just a long weekend. Four days on the lake, get out of this heat and on the water. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"When?" Tommy asked, and Maria knew instantly she had won.

She gave him a few different options while he scrolled the calendar in his phone to look at his work schedule. Weekends were hard for Tommy and hit or miss with Joel, so she knew it would be a tough sell.

Tommy picked a weekend and Maria's eyes lit up. Joel was about to decline when you piped up and agreed to go and suddenly, he couldn't resist.

"Amazing!" Maria said, clapping her hands giddily. She picked up her phone and began to look at availability for lodging. "You can invite Charlie, too, of course," she added without looking up.

"Oh, right," you said, feeling stupid for not even considering him. "Yeah, let me see if he's free."

Joel's heart sank and he looked down at his food, pushing the pasta around on his plate while you texted that guy you've been seeing, completely unaware that it was tearing him up inside. He tried to not let it bother him and he thought he was doing a really good job so far, but he wasn't sure how he would be able to handle four days in the same house, watching him touch you and kiss you and make you laugh. All the things he wanted to be doing, and more, but couldn't.

"He can come for Saturday and Sunday but he has to work Friday and Monday," you announced. Okay, so two days of watching another man touch what should be his.

Maria spent the rest of the night planning the trip while Joel bit his tongue. Why couldn't Charlie take off work a month in advance? he wanted to ask. Doesn't he want to spend time with you?

But of course, he didn't say a word. He and Tommy listened as the two of you researched activities, restaurants and bars in the area and planned out the weekend, making sure to carve out enough time to relax on the beach because you knew that's what he and Tommy really wanted to do. Fuck, he couldn't wait to see you in a bikini.

"Aren't you excited?" you asked him when Tommy and Maria headed up to bed.

"'Course I am."

"You don't seem like it. I thought this would be right up your alley."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "Why's that?"

You grinned and settled back into the couch. "Girls on the beach, obviously. Dripping wet from the water or sweating from the heat. I thought you would be more excited."

"I am," he said, leaving out that he was excited to see you dripping wet from the water or sweat. You hummed and stretched out your legs on the couch.

"Feel like watching a movie?" you asked, and he quickly nodded.

He knew it was pathetic but he couldn't help it. Any amount of time you wanted to spend with him alone, he would take. And when you curled up under a blanket and shoved your feet underneath his thigh while you watched the TV, it took everything in him not to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.

Because you were spoken for. And that would be wrong.

It was so fucking hot.

The day you left for the lake, the temperature was close to record breaking and all of you had to admit once you were in the comfort of the air conditioned truck that Maria's plan to get out of town was truly inspired. And once you arrived at the house you rented, you had to give Maria even more credit because the place was stunning.

It was a two story cabin with four bedrooms, a spacious living area and a kitchen behind it. The walls were all made of wood, stained a dark cherry for ambiance while the house sat a mere ten minute walk to the beach.

"Oh my god, this place is so cool," you said softly as you walked around the upper level, checking out each bedroom. It was hard to choose, they were all equally beautiful and had great views of the small forest around you, so you didn't mind when Tommy and Maria picked the master suite. Each room had its own charm.

The first evening you were there, you decided to go to dinner and then hit up a bar nearby, just the four of you. Charlie had planned on arriving sometime the next morning and then you would head to the beach, where you would spend a majority of the day getting tan and drinking whatever was coldest from the cooler you brought from home.

"Okay, do not even start that shit with me, Joel! You know I have a fear of heights! I'm not going anywhere near that fucking thing!"

He laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked down the boardwalk behind Tommy and Maria.

"It ain't even that high! It's just a goddamn ferris wheel!"

"I don't care, I'm not going on it. You guys can go and have a lovely time. I will stay down here, safe on the ground where I can't plummet to my death."

"C'mon, now. You know I won't let anythin' bad happen to you," Joel said, his voice dropping an octave lower as he pulled you in closer, the alcohol coursing through both your veins began to call the shots when you leaned into his hold.

"And what are you gonna do, Joel, if the thing breaks and I'm stuck up there? Do you have some superpowers I'm not aware of?"

"No, I think you're aware of all my superpowers," he teased, making you blush and shove him away with a laugh. "But I know I could distract you. Help keep your mind off it til help arrives."

You stumbled a bit as you laughed harder, Tommy and Maria leaving you behind when they spotted an ice cream stand.

"Yeah, I bet you would. Telling me shitty jokes or more stories of how you tormented Tommy on the school bus?"

Joel grinned and grabbed your hand, yanking you into him again as you continued to walk past various bars and restaurants packed with tourists.

"Both would work, I'm sure of it, but I had somethin' else in mind," he said without thinking, getting too carried away in the moment. It felt too good, it felt so natural as you walked with your fingers linked together around your shoulders and your head leaning against the side of his chest.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" you giggled, then hiccuped, then giggled again. Why did you have to be so fucking cute?

He opened his mouth to say something he would probably regret in the morning, then bit his tongue when you looked up at him curiously. You saw the look in his eye and you cleared your throat, leaning away from him when you realized how inappropriate the two of you must have looked.

"Maybe I'll try the smaller one," you said, trying to steer the conversation back after the awkward moment.

"Nah, I'm just teasin' you. Don't do anythin' you ain't comfortable with," he told you, making you smile right as you caught up with Tommy and Maria. He loved making you smile.

"You guys wanna head back?" Tommy asked, tossing a handful of used napkins in a nearby trash can.

"Yeah, I should probably get to bed. Charlie's getting here early tomorrow and he wanted to try to get a hike in before the beach," you said, pulling your phone out to see if you had any missed texts from him. Joel swallowed and looked away.

"A hike? Since when are you a hiker?" Maria said with a laugh. You shrugged and grinned before looping your arm with hers, heading back in the direction of the house.

"Charlie must really like her," Tommy said as he walked side by side with Joel, both of them watching you and Maria giggling and poking each other in the ribs. "Always took him for a workaholic. Surprised he would be interested in coming out here."

Joel frowned before lighting up a cigarette. "It's the weekend. Didn't think he worked on the weekends."

"Oh, he doesn't, but he likes to put in extra time. Always chasin' that next promotion. Always been that way."

Joel exhaled a puff of smoke before replying. "How'd you know him again?"

"Used to work at the bar with me, if you can believe it," Tommy said, "but it was just somethin' to keep money in his pocket while he finished school. He was always a hard worker, even behind the bar. Real focused, y'know? Wasn't surprised at all when he got a job right outta college with that finance company."

Joel took another drag from his cigarette and allowed his gaze to drift to the curve of your ass in your shorts, knowing that the darkness would give him cover. "And you stayed friends all these years? Doesn't sound like you got much in common."

Tommy shrugged. "He's a nice guy and fun to hang out with when he lets loose. Used to be a good wingman back in the day. But he's the type of guy who's real driven. Sets his sights on a goal and will do whatever it takes to get it. I think his parents put alotta pressure on him growin' up."

Joel nodded and flicked his cigarette onto the pavement as they walked up the driveway to the house. He should be happy for you. It sounded like Charlie was a catch but he couldn't stop from comparing himself to your boyfriend. Even if he quit his job tomorrow and started over doing something normal, he would never reach the level of success Charlie had.

He didn't stand a chance in hell.

Maria was right. You were decidedly not a hiker. But Charlie seemed so excited to explore the area and you were just so grateful he took time out of his busy schedule to spend an entire weekend with you that you felt compelled to agree.

At least he gave you a great view of his muscular back as you trailed behind him, your legs ready to give out from the exertion any minute.

"I bet you made so much money as a bartender," you told him. He turned around and shot you a smirk.

"You checking me out back there?"

"Can you blame me?" you giggled.

"It's beautiful out here, babe," he said once you reached a high point with a clearing. He took a swig of water while you caught your breath. "Thanks for inviting me. I've never been out this way before."

"Really?" you asked in disbelief, "it's not that far from the city."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is," was all he said. You sat down on a fallen tree and stretched out your legs while Charlie took a few pictures of the view.

"Isn't Joel seeing anyone he could have invited this weekend?" Charlie asked out of the blue. You paused for a moment, taken off guard at the thought of Joel with a girlfriend. Something you never really considered before.

"Uh, I don't think he's seeing anyone serious," you replied.

Charlie chuckled and sat down next to you. "He's a bit of a fifth wheel, don't you think?"

Your face twisted up in disapproval when you looked at him. "Not at all. He's, like, part of our family. If anything-"

You stopped yourself before finishing your sentence but it didn't matter. Charlie furrowed his brow and glared at you.

"What? If anything, I'm the fifth wheel?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you were about to."

You sighed and rubbed your eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just because we all live together, that's all."

He scoffed and stood up, brushing off the back of his shorts before picking up his water bottle from the ground.

"We should head back," he grumbled as the guilt settled deep in your chest. You stood and wrapped your fingers around his bicep.

"Wait, come here," you said softly. He sighed and hung his head before turning around to face you. "I'm sorry. Really. I am," you reached up to cup his face and pressed your lips tenderly against his. You felt him relax into your touch and you smiled against his lips. "Can I make it up to you later?" you asked suggestively, and Charlie laughed.

"I'll hold you to it," he said with a playful swat on your ass. You squeaked and he grabbed your hand. "Let's get back. I wanna go to the beach and relax with you."

"That sounds amazing," you said dreamily as you followed him back the way you came, grateful the trail was now downhill.

Joel didn't like Charlie.

And it wasn't because he had his hands all over you the entire fucking day, but that didn't help matters. He tried to keep an open mind, he really did, but something about him just felt off. It clicked with Joel later when he noticed Charlie had encouraged you to cover up your bikini before heading over to the bar to grab some drinks, even though they had brought plenty to share in the cooler. You had initially protested, laughing him off when you thought he was joking, but gave in when you realized he didn't want other men staring at you at the bar.

Charlie was trying to control you and you didn't even realize it.

Those chips are terrible for you, babe. Try these instead. They're baked.

You gotta reapply sunscreen after swimming. Don't you know that, babe?

What are you reading that trash for? You gotta let me broaden your horizons, babe.

Babe. Babe. Babe. Babe.

It was really getting under Joel's fucking skin.

"You're so quiet today," you said, plopping down next to him after spreading out a towel on the sand.

"Am I?"

You gave him a look and grinned. "Yeah. What's up with you? Did you not sleep good or something?"

Joel shrugged and looked out at the water, grateful his sunglasses were able to disguise his feelings on that particular day. "Not really."

You hummed and regarded him silently for another moment before lying flat on your back, stretching yourself out to bask in the sun's warm rays. You took off your sunglasses and closed your eyes with a contented sigh while he fought the urge to stare at your perfect body so goddamn close to him.

He forced himself to scan the beach, looking for anything to keep his mind off your soft skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat just within an arm's reach. He felt a stirring below his waist when he imagined running his tongue between your breasts, licking up the sweat collecting there.

"Everything okay?" you asked when Charlie reappeared, his phone in hand. Joel shifted and tried to subtly rest his book over his crotch.

"Yeah, just a quick work call. Hey Joel, I think that girl's checking you out," Charlie said, sitting down in the sand next to you.

Joel resisted the urge to roll his eyes and forced himself to be nice. For your sake.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"The one in the white bikini. Blonde hair, big tits."

You whipped your head in Charlie's direction, unable to keep the shock from your tone when you whispered his name in disbelief. Joel tried not to watch but he could tell you were offended and he hardly blamed you. Who says that in front of their girlfriend?

"Not really my type," Joel said, settling back in his chair and closing his eyes.

"Not your type?" Charlie scoffed, and Joel cracked open one eye, once again grateful for his sunglasses because he caught you trying to silently shut Charlie up, but he continued to ignore you. "If she's not your type then who is?"

Your fucking girlfriend is my type, asshole, he wanted to say. Instead he just shrugged and hoped he would drop it.

He didn't.

"Come on, why don't you at least try to talk to her. Maybe invite her to dinner tonight. Then it would be all couples for once."

"Charlie," you hissed, a little louder this time. "He's not interested. Leave him alone."

"What's the problem? You were just saying earlier how you wished Joel would find a girl. I'm just trying to give him a little encouragement," Charlie said with a smirk. Your mouth fell open and you shook your head but it was too late. Joel's heart plummeted into his stomach and the familiar sting of rejection crept up his throat, strangling him. If you were privately telling Charlie you wanted him find someone, that must mean you were really over him, and whatever foolish shred of hope he was clinging to was all for nothing.

"I never said that! Joel, I'm so sorry," you said, scrambling up from the sand and turning on Charlie angrily. "Why would you-"

"It's fine," Joel said curtly, standing up and brushing the sand off his swim trunks. "You're right. I'm gonna go talk to her."

You twisted your neck to look up at him, your mouth opening and shutting as you struggled to come up with something to say.

"Y-yeah. I mean... go for it," you stammered and watched as Joel made his way across the beach. Even from a distance you could see the girl's face light up as he approached and you felt a pit form in your stomach.

"Why would you lie to him like that?" you asked Charlie with a scowl. He grinned and settled back into his chair with a book.

"I just had a feeling if a close friend motivated him, he would do it. Poor guy needs to get laid."

Fortunately you could blame the heat from the sun on your reddening cheeks. Charlie had no idea what Joel really did for work. You always skirted around the question whenever it was brought up because deep down, you knew Charlie would have a problem with it.

You slipped your sunglasses back on with a sigh and crossed your arms, still pissed off with Charlie but not in the mood to get into an argument. You tried not to stare as Joel flirted with the girl in the white bikini. She leaned into him and playfully shoved his shoulder with a giggle and your chest tightened when you saw him thread his fingers together with hers and lead her towards the bar.

You had absolutely no right to get jealous. Joel wasn't your boyfriend for that exact reason: jealousy. You had your own boyfriend who was very smart, handsome and successful. And sure, sometimes Charlie pushed you into doing things out of your comfort zone, but he was trying to help you grow as a person. So if he was so great, why did you spend so much time thinking about Joel?

Chelsea was sweet, in her late twenties, got her degree in economics and also spent the better part of half an hour subtly rubbing her ass against Joel's hips at the bar. It was crowded, being right on the beach, and getting louder and rowdier as the afternoon dragged on. At first, Joel thought it was an accident, that the crowds of people forced her to press up against him. But he soon discovered it was quite intentional when she ducked her hand under the bar to rub his cock through his swim trunks.

"Whoa, what're you doin' down there?" he chuckled. She beamed up at him innocently.

"Feel like going for a swim?" she asked. He thought she was ignoring his question until they got in the water, swimming out a ways where it was quiet, but not too deep. Chelsea glanced around before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth against his, wasting no time slipping her tongue past his lips with a soft moan.

"I recognized you," she admitted, dragging her mouth down the column of his throat and dipping her hand below the water. He hissed when she slid past his waistband and wrapped her hand around his cock.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," she said with a mischievous grin, her fist languidly stroking him up and down where nobody could see. "You're in dirty movies."

He laughed and squeezed her hips, encouraging her to come closer to him.

"You got me."

Even though she had her hand down his shorts in the middle of a lake surrounded by people enjoying a hot summer day, he had to admit that Charlie was right about her. She was sexy and charming and he liked how confident she was. She also seemed more than okay with his profession, which thrilled him. Maybe this was something that could actually work.

The first red flag came when he had two fingers curled inside her and she murmured I bet I feel better than those girls you have to fuck, huh?

It took him off guard for a moment but he shrugged it off, thinking it was just an idea that turned her on, so he told her yeah, so tight, baby.

The second red flag was when she asked are you gonna think about me next time you're at work?

His hips stuttered a bit underwater and he could feel the mental block building up. He tried kissing Chelsea to keep her from talking but it was too late, so instead he focused all his energy on getting her off with his fingers. Her grip loosened around his cock when she came, her moans muffled against his mouth. She grabbed at his shoulders desperately as her muscles went lax and he whispered I got you and held her against his chest until she caught her breath.

Over Chelsea's shoulder he could see you and Charlie on the beach. It was far away but he could spot you anywhere. While Chelsea murmured into his skin and raked her fingers through his hair, his eyes were pinned on you. You were standing up and brushing the sand off your legs, your perfect ass sticking out when you bent over in that hot pink bikini that was driving him fucking crazy all day.

Chelsea's hand was wrapped around his cock again, the mental block disappearing the longer he watched you. He groaned when you began to rub sunscreen into your arms, your tits bouncing with each and every movement. Chelsea took that as a sign to go faster. She whispered in his ear how big he was and before he even had a chance to stop it, his mind was imagining you saying that, instead. He remembered how nervous you were but then how you begged for his cock and his hips began to thrust into her hand underwater. Then, his breath caught in his throat when he watched you untie your bikini top, your arm holding the tiny pieces of fabric against your chest as the strings hung loose and you positioned yourself face down on the towel to tan in the sun.

"Fuck," Joel groaned, his cock pulsing in Chelsea's hand as he came. His breath was ragged and he fought to stand up in the water and not succumb to sinking to the bottom of the lake. She seemed to sense his struggle because she whispered in his ear let's go back.

As he swam to shore, the guilt began to wash over him for thinking about you when he was with another girl. That wasn't his intention at all. It was disrespectful to both you and Chelsea. But you were directly in his eyeline and he couldn't seem to stop himself. He could do better. He would do better.

"Hey, what're you doin' for dinner? A few of my friends are all goin' to this Italian place-"

"Oh," Chelsea said, cutting him off in surprise when they finally made it to the beach. "I'm sorry, thank you, but I have plans tonight."

He was a little disappointed but he knew giving a girl he just met a couple hours notice to go to dinner was asking a lot. "Don't worry 'bout it. Can I get your number? Maybe we can meet up tomorrow?"

Chelsea gave him a disbelieving look as she adjusted her swimsuit. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, 'course I am. I'd like to get to know you better," he said with a lopsided grin. She laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck and that was when Joel felt the uneasiness settle deep in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Joel. I thought this was just a hook up," she said, biting her lip and glancing around the beach. He could feel the smile fall from his face but he cleared his throat, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Y-yeah, sure, I get it."

"I mean, you're really sweet and all, it's just... you know," she said with a little shrug. He swallowed and nodded. He knew. You can't take a pornstar home to meet your parents.

"Maybe I'll see you around?" he said, and Chelsea nodded. She kissed him goodbye and he watched as she made her way down the beach towards her group of friends, who had been watching with great interest.

He was living every man's dream and he couldn't feel shittier about it.

He didn't want to just hook up with random girls anymore. It was fun when he was in his twenties but now it just felt pathetic. He sighed and turned his head in your direction. Charlie looked like he had dozed off in his chair while you were still laying face down with your eyes closed on your towel, your smooth skin coated with a sheen of sweat, pinkening under the sun's rays.

As he began to walk back towards the pair of you, he spotted Tommy and Maria making their way over from the opposite side of the beach, having done their own excursion for a couple hours that day and promised to catch up with the rest of you before dinner.

Joel was relieved. At least there would be a buffer.

Admittedly, Joel drank a little too much at dinner. He was still a little bothered by his afternoon with Chelsea, but he would have gotten over it had Charlie not picked at the scab every chance he got. First, he ribbed him about not being able to seal the deal when he showed up to dinner alone, but Joel just politely laughed it off. Then, as dinner progressed and the table was on their third round, Charlie began to point out girls around the restaurant who looked like they could be single, asking Joel if he thought they were his type with a teasing lilt to his voice.

You hadn't really been paying attention. You were too engrossed with something Maria was saying, leaning across the table excitedly as the thin strap of your sundress slid down your shoulder. Your skin was practically glowing from the sun, your eyes sparkled when you giggled with Maria and Joel was finding it more and more difficult to keep his gaze off you. Charlie either didn't notice or care. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, his thumb brushing against your back or your arm while he explained to Tommy the Chelsea backstory. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between Charlie and Joel, providing a few forced chuckles at his teasing, then changed the subject the first chance he got.

"What d'we wanna do tonight?" he had asked, breaking up your private conversation at the other end of the table.

"Why don't we hit the boardwalk?" Charlie offered, tossing back the rest of his old fashioned.

"We did that last night," you said.

"It's my only night here, babe. I wanna check out the rides and shit."

Joel's jaw tensed and he looked down at the table.

Of course, everyone agreed, so once dinner was over they all strolled down the sidewalk towards all the bright lights, the intoxicating smell of sugar and the sound of carnival games in the air. Charlie spotted the Ferris wheel and snatched your hand.

"C'mon, babe, let's check it out!"

You stopped dead in your tracks, making him spin around in surprise. "I don't like heights, I'll just wait-"

"Oh, come on! It'll be romantic," Charlie murmured suggestively, pulling you into his chest and pinching your chin. Joel hurriedly walked past to catch up with Tommy and Maria, unable to stand there and watch him kiss you. He knew he was being unreasonable. He knew he had to get his jealousy under control or else it would drive a wedge between the two of you and he couldn't possibly risk that. You meant far too much to him. So, he tried to distance himself for the remainder of the night. He hung out with Tommy and Maria, checking out various shops, getting candied apples and playing games while he forced himself to not look over his shoulder and seek you out.

Looking back on it, he probably shouldn't have gotten that beer and shot at the bar after Tommy and Maria ducked into a photo booth. His head was already swimming from the drinks at dinner but he really didn't want to be awake later to hear you and Charlie through the walls.

Tommy and Maria found him after the photo booth and showed him the strip of pictures, laughing at some of the props and faces they were making when Maria suggested they take a ride on the ferris wheel since it would likely be their last chance. Joel told them he would just wait, not wanting to admit the mere thought of those little cars swaying back and forth made his stomach churn with the amount of alcohol he had drank that night.

He was smoking a cigarette and scrolling on his phone, sitting on a bench near the ferris wheel after Tommy and Maria had gotten in line when he heard you. The panic in your voice sent a jolt of fear down his spine and he jumped up, flicking his cigarette on the ground as he whipped his head back and forth, searching for you. Finally, he spotted you pushing your way through the crowds of people in front of the ride, your face red and soaked with tears. His heart sank and he rushed over just as Charlie emerged a few seconds behind you. When he reached out to touch your arm, you yanked it back so forcefully that you fell on your hands and knees, scraping your skin against the hot blacktop.

Joel called your name and you looked up frantically, your chest heaving. You reached out a shaky arm towards him and he immediately pulled you up off the ground, his eyes raking up and down your body, assessing you for damage. Aside from some red scrapes on your hands and knees from the fall, you appeared fine, but you clawed at his arms and gasped I can't breathe and his heart began to slam wildly in his chest. He held you up against him and twisted around, trying to spot a paramedic when Charlie waved you both off with a dry laugh.

"Bro, she's fine, she just got scared on the ferris wheel."

"She's not fine, fuckin' look at her!" Joel yelled, turning a few heads, but he didn't care. He dropped his gaze to your face, cupping your jaw and wiping your tears away. "You're alright. Hey, c'mon, you can do this. Take a deep breath in through your nose, like this. Watch-" he inhaled deeply and you did the same through clenched teeth, then he exhaled slowly, pursing his lips as you continued to follow his lead. He did it a few more times until the tears stopped and your color returned to normal.

"You alright?" he asked softly, brushing your hair away from your face. You nodded and looked around for somewhere to sit. He seemed to read your mind because he led you by the elbow towards the bench he vacated. Giving you a chance to catch your breath, he turned on Charlie.

"What the fuck, man? Why'd you make her go on that goddamn thing?"

His nostrils were flaring and he could feel the anger bubbling up into his chest.

"I didn't force her to do anything," Charlie said with a frown. "She's a fucking adult, she made her own decision-"

"Because you fuckin' pressured her!" Joel shouted, taking a menacing step forward. "I heard her tell you she was afraid of heights so don't bullshit me."

Charlie's hand clenched into a fist and his jaw tensed. "Why don't you mind your own fucking business before I knock you on your ass?"

"Is that a threat?" Joel countered, closing the distance between him and Charlie, staring him dead in the eye as he waited for him to make a move.

You shoved yourself off the bench and quickly wedged yourself between the two men, a palm pressed against each of their chests, pushing them apart. "Stop it, please," you begged, "I just wanna go back to the house."

They stared each other down for another moment before Charlie looked away with a scoff. He grabbed your hand and muttered something under his breath as he began to lead you away, but when you passed by Joel, you stopped.

"Thank you," you told him softly. You reached out to grab his hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. He nodded and forced a small smile before Charlie tugged on your other hand. Joel watched until the two of you disappeared into the crowd before he sighed and collapsed back onto the bench. He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to get his temper under control when Tommy and Maria walked over, hand in hand with huge grins on their faces.

"You missed such a great view, Joel," Maria said, then looked around the boardwalk, asking where he thought you and Charlie went.

"Back to the house," was all Joel said before gruffly standing up and lighting another cigarette to help with the burst of adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Joel managed to calm down by the time the three of them arrived back at the house. He replayed what he had said and done over and over and just hoped that you didn't hold it against him. It didn't seem like you were pissed with him when you left but he knew his actions just made the next day incredibly awkward, so Joel decided once he saw Charlie in the morning, he would apologize.

When he walked by your closed bedroom door, it was quiet with the exception of the water running in the bathroom. He slipped into his own bedroom down the hall, then turned on the TV and fell asleep.

He slept in a little later than he intended but he had a hunch he wasn't the only one. It seemed like everyone had a little too much to drink the night before and from the sound of the plates and silverware clinking together in the kitchen below, everyone was getting a slow start to the day.

"Mornin'," Joel mumbled to Tommy, who was sitting at the table, rubbing his eyes over a steaming cup of coffee. He glanced up and nodded in return before bringing the mug to his lips and taking a sip.

"Need help with anythin'?" Joel asked Maria who was busy cracking eggs. She laughed and shook her head.

"Go sit down. You look like you feel about as shitty as your brother."

Joel didn't need to be told twice. He sat down next to Tommy with a grunt, his hands curling around his own cup of coffee, blankly staring down at it, hoping it would bring him back to life.

"Hey," Tommy whispered, eyeing Maria from across the room who was busy gathering things from the fridge. Joel leaned forward and arched an eyebrow. "Charlie left real early this mornin'. I heard a car door slam and noticed his car's gone when we got downstairs."

"Shit," Joel muttered, glancing over at Maria quickly, making sure she didn't notice them gossiping about her best friend.

"Think they got in a fight or somethin'?" Tommy asked, but right as Joel opened his mouth to tell him the details of what happened the night before, Maria bounced over to them with a plate in each hand.

"I'm gonna go wake them up," she said, turning on her heel. Joel gave Tommy a curious look and he just shrugged.

"Didn't tell her," was all he said, then rolled his wrist in the air. "Tell me before they come down."

Joel managed to give Tommy the bullet points then began quickly shoveling eggs into his mouth when they heard Maria descending the steps. She entered the kitchen with her hands on her hips, looking concerned.

"What's up, baby?" Tommy asked innocently. She swiveled her finger around in the air as the gears turned in her head.

"Charlie left."

They both did a good job of acting surprised as Maria sat down with her own plate of food and with a hushed voice, told them you were upset and didn't want to come down for breakfast.

"Did they break up?" Joel asked, realizing too late that he sounded a little too eager, but Maria didn't seem to pick up on it. She was biting her nail, worried about you and trying to figure out how to navigate the rest of the day.

"I think so."

Conflicted was the only word to describe what Joel felt in that moment. He really didn't like Charlie but he hated the idea that he could be partially responsible for your pain.

After they finished eating, Maria checked the time and tapped her foot. "I think I should cancel the zip-line, Tommy," she said, "I don't want to leave her here all alone." Maria had planned for her, Tommy and Joel to zip-line over the beach, overlooking the lake. Knowing your fear of heights, she had intentionally picked that day, expecting you and Charlie to spend some alone time together.

"I'll stay, you two go," Joel said immediately, picking up their plates and heading to the sink.

"Are you sure?" Tommy asked, and Joel nodded.

"I'm not exactly in the best shape to be flying through the air, anyway."

"And I am?" Tommy replied, but Maria shoved his shoulder and put her finger to her lips behind Joel's back while he scrubbed the plates. "Uh, yeah, thanks Joel. You let us know if you end up goin' out and we'll meet up."

Joel stayed downstairs, alternating between going on his phone or watching TV. When it got closer to noon and you still hadn't come down, he began to worry. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple water bottles. Putting them on the counter, he scoured the fridge and scratched his chin. He was always a terrible cook, so he gave up quickly and resorted to ordering a couple burgers for delivery before taking the waters upstairs.

He rapped two knuckles gently on the door, then heard some shuffling before your voice called out, inviting him in.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said sympathetically when he saw your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You sat up in bed and tried to run your fingers through your tangled hair before sighing and giving up.

"Leave it to me to get dumped on vacation."

He gave you a sad smile and held out a bottle of water, which you eagerly accepted. He sat down on the edge of your bed and watched as you drained almost the entire bottle, then handed you his. You thanked him and set both on the end table before turning your attention back on your television, which he hadn't even realized was on.

"Legally Blonde?"

"I wanted to laugh but I forgot she gets dumped in, like, the first twenty minutes."

Joel chuckled and leaned back against your headboard. "I'm so sorry. If it was 'bout last night-"

"It's not your fault," you sniffled, pulling the comforter up to your chin.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not yet."

He hummed and nodded, turning back to the television. He gave you all the time and space you needed, staying close by for the rest of the afternoon in case you wanted to talk, only leaving to get the burgers when they arrived. You ate them in your bed, grease dripping from your fingers and laughing at stupid movies until you felt good enough to get up and shower.

"You wanna go mini golfing?" you asked over your shoulder as you fixed your hair in the mirror. Joel cringed but agreed. He absolutely hated golfing, but for you, he would suffer through it. Especially considering your mood seemed to be improving.

"Lemme text Tommy and let 'em know where we're goin'," he said, pulling out his phone and following you out the door.

"Oh, let's just do our own thing tonight," you said, then cleared your throat when you realized how that sounded. "I mean, y'know, they probably want time to themselves, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Joel agreed, side eying you before hopping into the truck. You gave him directions to a mini golf course ten minutes away, then rolled down the window and stretched your arm out, the warm summer air slipping through your wiggling fingers. Even though the sun had set, the air was still so thick with heat it felt like you could grab it.

"It's so hot," you said, sliding out of the passenger seat once Joel parked the truck. You fixed your skirt; a flowy, white number that felt feather light against your thighs as you walked. Joel agreed and checked his phone, noticing a text from Tommy.

"Hold up," he said, and you twisted around, your tennis shoes crunching on the gravel parking lot.

We're gonna go to that Mexican place. 30 minutes.

"They're invitin' us to dinner," he told you without looking up.

"Tell him we already ate."

He nodded and tapped out a quick reply before pocketing the phone and approached the cashier.

"Two tonight?" she asked, smacking her gum between her teeth.

"Yes, but I'll pay for mine," you said, reaching for your wallet.

"Nuh-uh," Joel said with a frown, about to argue but the cashier spoke up first.

"It's date night. Two for the price of one."

Your cheeks felt hot at the insinuation that you were on a date with Joel, but you couldn't pass up the deal to play for half price. Glancing at him awkwardly, you shrugged and he slapped his card down with a cocky smirk.

"Alright, pick out your ball, but for the love of god don't pick the-"

"Oh, look at the hot pink one!" you exclaimed gleefully, snatching it up from the bucket. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "What?" you giggled, shouldering him playfully as you admired your ball.

"It's just such a girl thing to do," he said with a grin, then leaned over to pick a neon yellow ball for himself.

"Well last I checked, I am a girl," you winked and headed towards the door, his gaze falling to your ass only once before getting himself together and following you.

"Shoulda known," he tsked once he caught up, "matches your bathing suit and everythin'."

Your stomach flipped and you felt your cheeks grow hot once again but you just laughed him off and approached the first hole. The course was packed with couples, no doubt taking advantage of the deal, so it was slow going. By the fifth hole, Joel grew impatient and plopped down on a bench.

"Giving up so soon?" you teased, and he huffed.

"I ain't a quitter, just waitin' for some of these people to play through. Sick of standin' around."

"You sure it's not because I'm beating you by six?" you grinned as you sat down next to him.

"I'm lettin' you win, darlin'. Tryin' to mend your poor, broken heart," he said, rolling his head to the side with a smirk.

"Eh, I don't think we were together long enough to say he broke my heart, but it still sucks," you sighed, playing with your golf ball in the palm of your hand.

Joel eyed you for a moment, trying to choose his next words carefully. "You ready to talk 'bout it, or-"

"I thought he was nice, y'know? Like, okay, he could be a little pushy sometimes, but I really thought he was just encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone."

Joel frowned and shifted his weight on the bench. "What'dya mean?"

"Like, professionally. He was encouraging me to go back to school so I could get a better job, but I like my job. And other things, too. The ferris wheel," you said, rolling your eyes, "told me I should face my fears and all that."

"You're better off without him," Joel said without even thinking. You laughed and glanced up at him through your lashes.

"You think?"

"'Course. You don't need someone to tell you how to live your life. If you like your job, then why change it? If you're afraid of heights, who cares? Seemed to me like he was tryin' to fix you, and from where I'm sittin', you're-" he cut himself off and looked down at his hands, chewing on the inside of his lip to keep himself from finishing his sentence.

You stared at him for a moment, watching something flicker across his face. "I'm... what?" you asked gently.

He shrugged and took a deep breath. You're perfect, he wanted to say, but instead he went with "you don't need fixin'."

You smiled shyly and poked him in the ribs, making him chuckle.

"Thank you, Joel. You managed to save me from wasting the last day of vacation moping around in bed."

He let you drag him up from the bench so you could continue playing the course, but your conversation kept replaying in his head, distracting him. Even though you weren't a fan of his job, you never once pressured him to find a different one. You accepted him for who he was and it bothered him that Charlie couldn't do the same for you.

Joel watched you with a smile as you bent your head and lined up your putter with your golf ball. A little crease formed between your eyebrows as you focused on the windmill eclipsing the sixth hole, trying to time it just right. How could anybody want to change you? You were so adorable and sweet and you deserved someone who would worship the ground you walked on.

A foolish thought popped into his head and he opened his mouth, about to ask you a question that could possibly change everything.

"What if-"

He cut himself off when you tapped the ball down the turf, both of you watching and holding your breath when your hot pink golf ball managed to avoid the blades of the windmill and dropped into the little plastic cup with a soft clink.

"Holy shit!" you exclaimed, garnering a few odd looks in your direction, but neither of you cared. You dropped your golf club and jumped into his waiting arms, letting Joel spin you around as you both laughed and he told you what a great job you did, deciding it was best he never finished his question, anyway.

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

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d0youc0py · 6 months

Note

Hiii can ypu write something with the 141 boys and their wife who starts a new job and her male coworkers are obcessed with her and dobt believe she is happily married. Please and thank you

“John?”

“Yes, Honey?”

“Something interesting happened at work.” You said slowly. He turned in his office chair, leaning back with a heavy sigh.

“That so?” He hummed. His large hand grabbed your waist resting you on his leg. You hummed back running your fingers up and down the front buttons of his shirt. He leaned into you.

“Remember that guy at work I told you about? Harrison? Anyways, I was walking past his desk and I noticed it was empty. I asked my boss about it and she said he quit in a panic this morning.”

John nodded his head in agreement. “That is interesting.” He gave you a soft smile, running a hand up and down your back.

“John?” You asked again slowly. “What did you do?”

“My job.” He whispered leaning forward planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“Meaning…..” You trailed off swallowing hard.

“Protect you.”

“Did you kill him?” You whispered back, your eyes darting around as if someone was eavesdropping. A chuckle escaped him causing you to jump.

“No, sweetheart. I did gently urge him to fuck off though.”

“Si, can you pick me up please?”

You could hear him already getting his things over the phone.

“What happened?”

“Nothing serious. Remember that new guy I was training? Well he still hanging out in the parking lot and everyone has already left- it just doesn’t feel right.”

“Good Girl.” He praised. You could hear his truck starting. “I’ll be there in ten, just keep talking to me. How’s that book you’ve been reading?” His voice calmed you. You did as you were told, not bothering to question how he was going to make a thirty minute drive in ten minutes.

••••••••

He had made the drive in twelve minutes- the longest twelve minutes of your life.

“I’m outside, start heading down.” You breathed a sigh of relief opening the doors, the chilly night air hitting you.

“There’s my girl.” He quickly wrapped an arm around you giving you a peck on the top of the head. He opened the passenger side door of his truck, hoisting you up. He walked around to his side of the truck, leaning with his back against the door. His cold eyes staring directly into the grey car across the lot. It didn’t take long before the grey car tore out of the lot. Simon had a satisfied smirk on his face as he hopped into the truck. “I’m gonna start dropping and picking you up from now on, yeah? At least till that prick knocks it off.”

“Thanks, Si.”

“Mac! What’re you doing here?” Not that you weren’t excited to see him, he just wasn’t due home for another week.

“I missed you.” He murmured against your hairline.

“I missed you too.” You breathed, enjoying the way his cologne tickled your nose.

“I heard what you said on the phone, about our little problem.” His eyes scanned around your office building wondering who the group of bastards could be.

“Is that why you’re here? John you didn’t need to do that.” You assured, waving him off.

“Yes I do, Bon. This is your dream job and those bastards are already making you wanna quit- now point me in their direction and then we can go to lunch together, hmmm?”

“Please don’t make a scene Mac.” You whined tugging at his shirt. “How about I give you a tour and we just so happen to bump into them?”

He sighed, wanting nothing more than to give each one of them a black eye for how miserable they’ve been making you. But you and those damn puppy eyes outweigh his desire for blood.

“Alright. I might ‘accidentally’ trip one of them though.”

“How’s my pretty girl doin?” You could hear his smile on the other side of the phone.

“Best I’ve been in a week.” You smiled back. “I have a feeling I owe it to you.” You chirped, running your nails across the dinning room table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby.”

“Yeah, sure. Well let me fill you in since you ‘don’t know.’ This morning I walked into work and you know those guys I was telling you about? The ones who take turns practically cornering me at my desk to ask if me and my husband are really ‘that serious’ and if I would like to go out with them for a ‘bitchin’ time’.”

“I do remember those guys, yeah.” Kyle mused from the other line. He wished he was there to see the air quotes he knew you were doing.

“Well this morning I walked in and they wouldn’t even look at me!” You cheered. “Ky, I don’t know what you did, but I owe you massively.”

“Don’t owe me a thing, pretty. Just happy you’re not scared anymore.”

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plumipal · 8 days

Text

Last Name Dilemma

Yknow, this is purely for myself, happy me hating my last name. This is a yandere thing btw and please note that I am an artist, not a writer :,) so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes

I had this amazing idea. If you don't really like your last name and get sucked into the world of twisted wonderland, why not just get a new one? It's very easy when you have suitors vying for your attention at every corner of the school! 🤭

It all started in the cafeteria...

Of course they were overjoyed you thought their last names were cool, did this mean you indirectly wanted to marry them? Well the game is on, and they for sure will win.

Much to their displeasure though, rumors speads fast at NRC, with everyone else quickly getting to know about your lastname dilemma. They are not backing down, wanting to burn the world down just to achieve their happy ending with you.

Ace

Of course you would want to marry him! He is your first friend in this wretched school after all! (Deuce would like to differ on that statement but yeah)

Ace may not be the richest, smartest or most beautiful, but he is your best friend, (hopefully) your first choise and (will make sure to be) your first love! Guy is serious. He will also pull all sorts of dirty tricks against everyone else, you're his bestie to marry no one else's!

Deuce

Ah poor little Deuce. Guy choked on his food when he first heard you talk about how cool their last names sounded. You think his last name is cool? Does that mean that you like him too? You wanna date him, marry him? Be his forever?? He is feeding into his own delusions and your words are only making it worse.

As soon as he has finished lunch he will excuse himself and make a call to his mom and tell her the wonderful news on how you and him will definitely get married! (He just gotta get you a sweet, sweet ring that you deserve)

Cater

Cater being quick on the trends, he was even quicker on the rumors about you having no last name (and definelty needing one). He has such a cute last name, it would fit so well with you! <3

He is already dreaming up the perfect magicam wedding, to show off how the oh so wonderful you chose him, and no one else. He also dreams of the private moments after, how you'll hold him as he sobs his heart out, so happy you chose him. He hopes these silly daydreams will soon become reality, cos he can't wait much longer..

He also definelty overloads you with his clones, giving you so much love you don't need to turn to anyone else for that :)

Trey

When Trey heard the rumors he sighed, feeling bad for how overwhelmed you probably are with everyone else's proposals. Well, come to him whenever you feel like it's too much, he will always make sure to lktsen to your problems (he loves the domestic feel to just having late night chats with you in the heartlbuyl kitchen as he prepares another batch of sweets for the next unbirthday party).

He will make sure that his own proposal of marriage is short and sweet, and he is sure it will win you over, who wouldn't want his sweets all day every day? He will make sure to feed and love you for the rest of eternity if you chose him <3

Riddle

Riddle is messy, he wants you as his spouse and he kinda wants it NOW, since he feels like he deserves it. You're the perfect match to him, the king of hearts to his queen od hearts...

He will show off how good of a husband he would be to you, how he will take care of you with a stable job, how he will help you with all homework and make sure you get special treatment on unbirthday parties. If he sees anyone trying to propose why they should be yours and not him, well, you know his unique magic...

Jack

Wolves mate for life. Jack wants to mate for life. Who does he want as his mate? You. You have changed his life, and he does not want to lose you, please. He is territorial, liking how your name would sound with his last name, now he just gotta make it happen..

Ruggie

Ruggie feels desperate when he hears the rumors. Why would you chose him, when you have literal celebrities, prince's and high standing people vying for you? Then he remembers, he owes you. It's usually the other way around yes, bur he owes you somehow.

With this he cooks up the amazing plan of giving you his last name as a thanks for that one time. He also gotta introduce you to his family, he knows granny bucchi is gonna peer pressure you into accepting marriage with him...

Leona

Leona will not lose you. He has lost so much coming second to everyone he knows. He will NOT lose you to anyone here, he will fight dirty and kill for you if there's a chance he gets with you. He has the money to hire help to get rid of people too, and that same money can sway you into chosing him, since that deadbeat crow ain't giving you a liveable sum to live on.

He makes sure to capture you for naps whenever he can, making sure to leave his scent on you, enough so most people can smell how he has been on you.

Floyd

Eeh? Shrimps wants a good last name?? Well with his you could scare oh so many away, leading to an easy life for you! It also leads to a fun life with you and him, and there will never be a dull moment in his life with you by his side!

Just don't take his last name with his brother yeah? Get with him instead.

Jade

Oya? The prefect wants a last name? A husband too perhaps? Jade's smile widens as he plans out how to trap you into a wonderful marriage with him. Perhaps some of his new mushrooms in his terrariums will make you tired enough to get you to sign a marriage contract with him?

Just don't marry his brother instead of him, he don't really know how he would handle that..

Azul

Azul feels himself become of sp happy whenhe heard the rumors. Finally! You will have him corner you as soon as he can, sweet smile on his face as he offers you a golden contract of his. He crafted it meticulously, making sure everything in it would be perfect for the both of you.

He tries to butter you up so badly, please he just wants you to himself, is that too much to ask for?

Jamil

Jamil has to hold back to use snake whisper, but he has it in case you chose the wrong option (not him). He wants you, he does that to lose you to anyone, ESPECIALLY KALIM. He probably uses snake whisper against others, to sabotage, to do anything. He just can't lose you...

He definelty shows off his cooking and cleaning skills, showing how he can be the perfect househusband for you. Look how good you could have it with him...

Kalim

Kalim is manipulative about this. He mat not be aware of it, bur he sure is. He wants you as his (spouce) bestie, and he will get that. Guy has never gotten a no, and he will not get one now (he hope atleast).

Let him plan you a grandiose wedding! With food, clothes, venue, parades and so much more worth millions and millions of thaumarks. He will space no expense for you!

Epel

Why is epel so roughened up? Why he fought for your hand of course! Isn't it manly to show off that you can easily fend gör your love? He also loves loves LOVES the attention you give him as you fix him up.

He feels so proud of the fights he won, wearing the scars like proud medals, so please take care of them before they get infected- he will only let you do it-

Maybe he will get into more fights if he can get your heavenly touch as a reward..

Rook

Rook stalks you on the daily, so of course he got to work as soon as the words left your mouth. He will hunt you down, get your heart and love and live happily every after :)

He 100% gets violent as well, bur of course you won't see that side of him! He wouldn't want to scare you..

Vil

Vil is certain you will chose him. He is the fairest of them all (niege don't count he is ugly), that is what you deserve. He will take care of you, especially your appearance. You've sent how he is with epel, now get ready for double that...

He dolls you up, makes you the best version of yourself so he can show you off on his socials,to mush it into that dumb nieges face that THE vil had you and niege doesn't. He is the fairest of them all with you of course..

Of course, he is the only queen worthy enought for your love and affection, so please just marry him already, he wants a Photoshoot together with you...

Idia (plus Ortho being STRICTLY PLATONIC)

I'm sorry but have you read his ssr story? Guy doxxes over nothing lol. He will breach your security if you tell him no, he has lost so much already, can't he have you please? You're the only thing he wants...

He will 100% use Ortho against you, backing you into a corner together with the robot. Ortho wants to make his brother happy, and he would be the happiest together with you. Ortho would also be so so so happy if you were his bif sibling too!

Theyve lost so much, they just want a happy family, together with you.. (ORTHO ONLY WANTS YOU AS A SIBLING NO WEIRD SHI AGAINST ORTHO PLEASE)

Sebek

Sebek has to run to lilia for guidance. Why has this human out this wonderful spell on him, why does he feel so lightweight? Why is his face so red? Why does he want to reject you for the rest od your days, more than he wants to protect malleus?

He wants to marry you. To have a wonderful marriage between human hand half fae, almost liek his parents... he will protect you at all costs. Please do love his loudmouth ass back..

Silver

Silver has no last name as well, so in his mind you both are already matching. He is too sleepy to actually do anything other than fall asleep with you.

Lilia

Lilia would snicker at the rumors. Ah, how he feels young again, silly what love can do to someone... he would love to help his son's with this, but sadly he wants this just as much if not more...

Malleus

Malleus does not want to lose his friend. His first and only real friend. He has tried to court you for so long, and now that you've dropped a hint that you wanted him (by saying you wanted a cool last name) he starts the royal courting traditions.

He follows all the traditions, step by step, being very careful to be correct and sparing no expense. He makes sure you see the future home of yours (the castle), his humongous hoard and his greatest treasure, gao gao dragon..

.. holy hell this was so much longer than what I expected. Well, who would you go for? Do tell :,)

Also, would yall want more long form content like this or way more short form? My asks got deleted so don't really have any to draw smhhh </3 so do send shi in please <3

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caotictimmy · 7 months

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SO UHH HI MUNCHIES..THIS IS MY FIRST SMUT SO IM KINDA BLUE BALLING IT, but I’ve read so much smut I think I can do it. You can criticize since I always want to be better! Also this is in 2 person pov also it stirred away from the movie,(he just keeps working shifts that’s ir)

My atties @ilovetoomanymen @valez123

Some basic stuff - body worship, cunnilingus, loser mike/hj, Mike is a whimper confirmed, afab reader

“I’m sorry I don’t have the money, could I pay for it in a….different way.”

You were a babysitter for Abby, you understood how hard it was for her brother, and you loved the little girl to bits. She was shy and such a creative girl, and she loved you to for being so patience with her and just generally caring for her. So that’s why you were ok with getting payed very little.You always asked if you could help Michael with anything else, but he would always say no. You respected his wishes mostly, leavening a 20 around the house if Abby needed or wanted something.

You had a good job so you were taken care of, you always made sure they were ok, even if Michael told you they were. You knew it was hard for him. How couldn’t it be? He was a guy just barely scraping by while taking care of his sisters, and now’s he’s having to take night shifts, being away from Abby so long and not getting good sleep, so when he asked you to watch Abby at night while he was at work, you didn’t mind when he was working so hard, and it just ment that your job was easier.

This was about the 2 week into his night shift job, you were asleep on the couch, soon you heard a jingle of keys and the door quietly opening and shutting. You groggily looked up checking the time, it was around 3:26 am.“Mike..?what are you doing here..it’s only 3”, you tiredly say wiping your eyes, slowly pushing yourself to sit up.”Oh. One of the animatronics were malfunctioning and kept messing with the power, so I decided to come home,and I was a little hungry anyways.” He says as he shuffles his vest off, putting it on the table. You slowly get up still a bit tired. Walking to get your bag that he put his vest by. Slowly packing up you heard him pipe up.

“Hey uhm, listen.. it’s been getting harder so-“ you swiftly cut him off, ”Listen I understand, you don’t have to pay me, I know you work hard to provide.“ He looked at you with wide eyes, “and mike you don’t have to do any-“, “I never said I wasn’t gonna do something.”, he said while looking at you. “W-what?” You looked back at him bewildered. What did he just say? He took a couple steps in front of you, sinking to his knees In front of you, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, he slowly looks up at you, “I’m sorry I don’t have the money, could I pay for it in a….different way.”, he asked, he sounded desperate almost pleading with you. And how could you say no, he was on his knees begging to have you, you wanted him.

You quickly nod, brain not nearly processing what’s happening as fast as it needs to. Just as he was about to start taking off your pants, you quickly stated,”I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be doing this in the kitchen”, “Oh- yeah, that would be a bad idea.”, he got up, grabbing your hand and walking to his bedroom quickly, the moment both of you get in his room, he slams his lips against yours, you felt like you were dreaming, and you didn’t wanna stop, every kiss he stole from you felt like you were on cloud 9.

“Mike..we have to keep it down, Abby’s in bed”, you said in between kisses.”I know, I know.” He quickly locks the door, ushering back to you, as you guys fumble on the bed, you felt hot, like fire was spread through out your body,in a blink of a eye he was already removing your shirt and bra. After he got done you whent to take his shirt off, “nuh uh. This is my payment to you.”,he says. As he gets to his knees in front of you. God the way he looks at you from between your legs, looking so focused in between while shuffling you pants down. And he was finally down to the last article of clothing, he both wanted to savor and devour you at the same time, and he decided to pick the latter.

He slowly slipped the last piece of clothing. You thought he was gonna take it slow, well. No, he roughly grabs your hips shoving his face in for his meal, he ate, he ate like a mad, taking long fast drags from his tongue against you cunt,”oh god..mike~”. Flicking your clit when the tip of his tongue gets to it, he couldn’t get enough of you,”more,please more” he whimpers out in between your legs. Your mind was fuzzy and you could barely think, all you could really think about is mike and his godly skill with his tongue.

He groans out in satisfaction. He kept licking, drenching your pussy In his saliva, god he was so messy, “g-god so good” he groaned, he was so messy, saliva and slick drenching his face, and you loved it, you had to bite down on your hand to keep quite soon though he wanted more,he needed more as he slowly got rougher, soon he was stuffing your cunty with his fingers while he suckles on your clit, he ramens two fingers into not relenting on, soon you can feel the coiling in your stomach, you grab his hair roughly, tugging to let him know your were close.

Soon the coiling in your stomach snapped, mike slowly guided you through it, you breathed out a breath you didn’t know you kept in, Mike lapped at the juices on his fingers,soon you felt overwhelmed. As mike started to kitten lick your Pussy not seeming to stop.”mike no,no more”, you breathed out, “please one more just one more right, you can do it right? please just one more, I want more no, I need it please god just one more.” He whimpered out pleading, pleading and begging, you nod. He kept licking, starting to get rougher with the licks soon it was all to much for you again. And soon you were cumming on his tongue once again.

Mike slowly got up, knees slightly wobbling from being on the ground, he slowly wiped the back of his hand against his mouth,”I uh..did you like it?”, “mike if I ever hear those words come out of your mouth again, after you gave me the best head in my life.”, he chuckles embarrassingly “well let’s get you cleaned up.”

———

“So are we gonna discuss what happened last night?”, “what do you mean Abby” mike stated confused, “you weren’t very slick last night so, when am I gonna be a auntie?” Mike started back at her stunned,” ABBY W-WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT” mike rushed our embarrassingly, “geez are you gonna answer the question or not?”

———

THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH FOR READING THIS, THIS TOOK LIKE HOURS CAUSE I HAD LIKE SPURTS OF MOTAVATION, SHOUT OUT TO THE PEOPLE WHO WANTED THIS ONE AND HAVE A LOVELY DAY<33

#mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf smut #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #x reader #smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you

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alisonfelixwrites · 12 days

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one shot: something blue (*) [harry styles au]

summary: in which harry & lavender are best man and maid of honor at their best friend's wedding and don't get along whatsoever - which makes planning this wedding very interesting

word count: 20,613

warnings: enemies to lovers, lavender's 'best friend' being a huge bitch, smut! (fingering (female receiving), oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, unprotected sex)

author's note: another repost from my wattpad :)) this isn't new, but i still love it so much!!

“Oh my god, Serena…” Lavender could hardly contain her tears as she looked through her blurry eyes, her best friend in a pearly white gown beaming at her.

“Do you like it?” Serena checked and Lavender burst out in something between laughing and crying, “Of course I like it!” Lavender cried, getting up her feet to quickly hug her friend.

“Wait!” Serena pushed against her shoulders, “God, you almost got make-up on my dress.” She giggled. Lavender wiped her tears and smiled too, shaking her head in disbelief, “You look incredible.” She whispered, “Honestly, the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

Serena grinned, “You’re only saying that because you’re my maid of honour.” She teased and Lavender shook her head while still smiling, “Absolutely not. Tristan is going to die when he sees you.”

Serena turned around to inspect herself in the large mirror in the bridal shop. Lavender stood back with a glass of champagne in her hand, ready to take a sip until Serena tutted her, “Weren’t you supposed to call the florist and the caterer later today?”

Lavender raised her brows, “Uh – yes?”

“Well,” Serena turned around and gently took the flute from Lavender’s hand to put it down, “then you should stay sober.”

Lavender rolled her eyes, “One glass is not going to get me plastered.” She muttered.

“God, I can’t believe the wedding is in two weeks.” Serena sighed. Lavender smiled along, although her heart slightly ached. It was only June and the wedding being next week also meant she took up her final vacation days at her job to spend the time preparing for Serena’s wedding.

She’d have to go the remainder of the year without paid leave. No holidays for her this year but at least she – hopefully – gave her friend a kickass wedding. Lavender stared at Serena’s slender body with the white, silky dress now completely fit to her size. They had done the final measurements a while back and now the finished product was here.

“Hey, try on your bridesmaid dress now that you’re here?” Serena suggested, looking at Lavender through the mirror, “Brit and Jackie already did so through the weekend but you weren’t here.”

It sounded like a bit of a jab, and Lavender swallowed. Throughout the weekend she had actually been doing some work which she was falling behind on due to the preparations of this wedding.

Besides, she had a love-hate relationship with the bridesmaid dress she was supposed to wear and no matter how much she loved Serena, she felt teeny tiny standing next to her in a dress.

Serena decided on picking a lavender colour for her bridesmaids. Lavender cried all night when she got that news. It had always been her dream to get married in a lavender-shaded dress one day because – well, it was her name and it was fitting. Ever since birth, she somehow had the feeling she was the only person allowed to own the colour lavender.

Serena thought differently and picked that shade for the bridesmaids gowns, making Lavender feel like she’d be copying her if she ever chose that for her wedding dress. She forced Serena a smile through the mirror, “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“It’s not.” Serena frowned, “Lav, we had to get it redone because you gained weight. It needs to be perfect, it can’t be like… too tight or anything.”

Lavender’s cheeks heated a bit at the comment and she eventually nodded, “Yeah, okay. ‘M not wearing heels though.”

Serena clacked her tongue, “Number one mistake when visiting a shop like this. Always wear heels.”

Lavender rolled her eyes and contained her frustration. She loved Serena to bits. They met in the sorority where Lavender only stayed for about a week before she dropped out because of how crazy it was. Her and Serena stayed friends all throughout college and after. Even if Serena always overshadowed Lavender, there was a lot of love there.

So much, that Lavender was the reason Tristan and Serena met. The story was funny but also slightly terrible. Lavender and Tristan matched on Tinder and went on one date. It was quite clear they weren’t meant to be and when he went to drop her off at her front door, he met up with her then-roommate which was Serena at the time. They met and instantly hit it off, which is how Lavender’s best friend was now engaged to be married to the man she once went on a date with.

It came as no huge surprise when Serena asked Lavender to be her maid of honour. And Lavender was honoured to say the least, until Serena apparently also wanted her to do the entire wedding planning.

And if that wasn’t horrible enough, she had to do it with the best man. Who was a pain in her ass to put it lightly. He was snibby, arrogant and a complete asshole.

Harry Styles.

Lavender shuddered just thinking about him and bile rose up in her throat. When they first met, her heart skipped a beat because he was downright gorgeous. But the moment he opened his mouth and started talking, she was turned off. He was a jackass, kind of like Tristan turned out to be and kind of how Serena could also be every once in a while.

Harry and Lavender had spent a lot of time together in the past six months, but it usually ended up in screaming matches and slamming doors. They didn’t seem to see eye to eye on anything and it had fucked up the wedding planning tremendously. Harry also always found a way to blame Lavender for everything that went wrong and then she got the full of it from Serena.

Lavender locked herself in a dressing room to try on her gown. She wasn’t wearing the right underwear for the dress either, something Serena would definitely comment on.

Her red hair was in curls and she quickly took a clip to get it out of the way while hoisting herself in the lavender dress. It had thin straps over her shoulders and a rather low back. Lavender tugged on the dress a bit as she inspected herself and then walked out of the dressing room. Serena still stood in front of the mirror to admire herself and a smile graced her face when she laid eyes on Lavender, “Oh, you look stunning.”

“Thanks.” Lavender breathed as she stood next to Serena, pushing up on her toes to see how the dress would look once she wore heels.

“Did you lose weight again?” Serena checked, eyes glued to Lavender’s chest where the dress fell a little wide. Lavender glanced down, “Uh – yeah. I think so.”

“God, Lav… I can’t keep adjusting this dress for you.” Serena complained and Lavender shook her head, “No, I’ll – uh… I’ll just wear a push-up bra.”

“You can’t wear a bra, it’s an open back.”

“Well, then I’ll find a stick-on bra or something.” Lavender shrugged, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”

“And please, don’t forget nipple covers. I don’t need Tristan to look at anyone’s tits but mine that day.”

Lavender chuckled, “Right. Okay, noted.”

Serena nibbled her lip, “You seriously think he’ll like it? I mean, we aren’t getting married too fast, are we?”

Lavender frowned and placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulders, “What are you talking about? Of course not. Who said that?”

Serena avoided her eyes and Lavender exhaled, “Was it your mum?” She guessed. It came as no surprise that Serena wasn’t always the nicest person to be around. Lavender forgave her the moment she got to know her parents. They were horrible, to say the least. Serena swallowed, “Well, we’d only been dating a year before he proposed a-“

“And what?” Lavender frowned, “S., if it feels good, you don’t necessarily have to wait.” She shrugged, “You two love each other, right?”

“Yeah.” Serena sighed before she pressed her lips together. Lavender tilted her head to the side, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Serena, come on. Don’t lie to me, I know you better than that.” Lavender pushed. Serena crossed her arms, “It’s just – what if I meet someone else one day?”

Lavender blinked and continued frowning, “Like… Meet someone else in a romantic way?”

“Yes.” Serena whispered and Lavender needed a second before she spoke, “Well – you’re in love. I-I’d imagine you’d only have eyes for Tristan so it won’t even matter.”

Serena rolled her eyes, “Clearly, you don’t know what it’s like.”

Lavender ignored the dig and swallowed, “Do you not feel like he’s your soulmate?”

“I don’t know.” Serena sighed, “Just – forget I said anything.” Her eyes dropped to Lavender’s chest anymore, “I truly can’t alter this dress anymore, Lav. Try to keep your weight stable the next two weeks before you flash everyone at my wedding.”

Serena taking that tone and being the mean girl was her defence mechanism and Lavender tried to not take it to heart. She simply nodded and headed back to change out of her dress once more. It was Saturday and the afternoon would be spent with calling everyone up to check for the wedding. She also had another appointment at the venue with Harry.

They had to put something together as best man and maid of honour and couldn’t agree what it was for the life of them. The moment Harry suggested a stripper – at a wedding – Lavender knew it’d be a hard task to find a middle ground.

“Serena, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Lavender called as she was dressed again and her phone was blowing up, the caterer calling her for the third time. Serena said something back from behind the curtain of her dressing room and Lavender took it as her cue to leave.

She was on the phone the moment she stepped outside and ran towards her car. It was hot and warm in the UK but the rain was coming down. Her curls would explode once more and Lavender quickly found shelter in her car as she started the drive up to the wedding venue.

Of course, Tristan and Serena decided to get married in the middle of nowhere, booking an entire hotel with the venue next to it so all the guests could sleep over and join them for breakfast the next morning.

It did mean it was a car drive of a few hours to actually get there. Lavender decided to take that time to call the florist and the caterer. The florist had been a pain in the ass because Lavender had specifically asked for dried flowers to use in the venue so they wouldn’t have to all be thrown out. Guests could maybe take a little dry flower bouquet with them as a reminder of the day.

Serena did want a bouquet of fresh flowers and apparently that’s where it got hard. The communication wasn’t amazing and Lavender called them from her car to set the mistake straight. Next was the caterer, who didn’t understand how many vegetarian plates they had to make. Lavender tried to pay attention to traffic and her conversations as the drive continued.

The moment she exhaled a sigh once the call with the caterer had ended, the devil himself called her up.

Lavender rolled her eyes to herself, harshly gripping the steering wheel as she answered the call through Bluetooth, “Yes?” She questioned.

“Hello to you too.” Harry’s deep voice echoed through her car and Lavender exhaled a short breath, “What do you want?”

He huffed out a breath, “Sounds like you’re having a good Saturday. I’m at the venue, where the hell are you?”

“I’m on my way.” Lavender frowned, checking the time, “We said to meet at three.”

“No, we said to meet at two.” Harry sounded frustrated, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

Lavender closed her eyes for a split second as she swallowed, “Look, I’m actually almost there. In like… twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?!” He exclaimed, “You’re fucking late, Lav. What the hell.”

“I’m sorry! Look, I swear I thought we said three.” She groaned, “I-I can’t check right now, I’m driving. I’m sorry, okay? I-I’ve had a million things going on this morning. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, promise.”

“It’s pouring rain and I’m hungry.”

She rolled her eyes once more, “Then wait in your car.”

“You’re such a b-“ She ended the call before he could finish his sentence.

“Fucking dick.” Lavender mumbled. She definitely didn’t look forward to seeing Harry. He got on her nerves like nothing else and she felt like he’d been against her from the start. They didn’t agree on a single thing about this wedding. Every little surprise Lavender wanted to put in for Serena, he called corny. Every surprise he wanted for Tristan, she called disgusting.

Harry sat brooding in his car in front of the venue. The sun was shining in his eyes but there was so much rain too, near blinding him as the sun reflected on the street he was parked on.

He checked the time again, realizing he had been sitting here for nearly half an hour waiting for Lav. He hated that about her. She was usually late but then made it a point to plan their agenda so strictly. Harry was the one on time, she was always late.

He stifled a yawn and shifted in his car seat, near falling asleep until he saw a car approaching. Lavender’s grey Peugeot slowed down until coming to a stop in front of him, parallel parking like a pro in one swift movement before she got out. Her red hair was wild and untamed and her eyes were storming tornados as she glared at him through the car window, “Well?!” She gestured, shaking her head to herself as she marched up to the venue.

Harry huffed and exited the car, braving the rain as he hurried behind Lavender to the front entrance of the venue.

It came as no surprise to Harry that he disliked Lavender. After all, he disliked Serena and Lav was her best friend. Tristan was blinded but Harry wasn’t. Serena was a huge bitch who changed Tristan a lot. He was lovesick for her and jumped into this marriage way too quickly. To Harry, Serena was the devil. She was a rich, mean, spoiled girl and Lavender was no different.

So he took every opportunity to be a bother to Lavender and get on her nerves. It was the only pleasure he had these days, coming to terms with the fact that he was losing his best friend. Him and Tristan had been close since they were toddlers so Harry wasn’t too shocked when asked to be his best man. In two weeks, he’d lose him forever and he had no plans in striking up a friendship with Serena nor Lavender.

Lavender wore blue jeans, old trainers and a black shirt as she hurried into the venue, unlocking the little key box with the code she received from the owners. Harry shivered once he was also inside, glancing around the space now that he was out of the rain.

Lavender closed the thick, wooden door behind them as she stood in the entryway of the venue.

“Okay, so… there’s a huge chance it’s going to rain on their wedding so we need to take a look at how we can do this if that’s the case.” Lavender spoke, looking around the entryway.

Harry yawned and followed her eyes with little interest, “They could stand there for pictures.” He pointed.

“The light is off.” Lavender commented, “It’s going to be a little later than it is right now so the light will be coming from there. I think the other wall is better suited.”

Harry simply shrugged and Lavender took her phone to take a few pictures and then typed something in her notes-app. She tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear, “By the way, I fixed things with the florist and the caterer.”

“There were issues with the florist and the caterer?”

Lavender glared at him, “Yes. It – God, do you even pay attention when I say anything?!”

Harry bit his tongue and didn’t respond. He felt Lavender’s hand nudging his shoulder, “Go stand against that wall.”

He sighed out with little enthusiasm but did as she asked, “Why?”

“I’m going to take a picture to see what’s the best spot.” Lavender held up her phone and then arched up an eyebrow, “You could at least smile. I’m turning this into your contact photo.”

At that, Harry held up his middle finger. Lavender rolled her eyes and snapped the picture, “Now over there.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He mocked and did as she asked, leaning against the other wall as Lavender took another picture. She puckered her lips, “Look,” She turned her phone towards Harry, “if there’s sun, that second option is better. If there’s not, the first wall is better.”

“Okay, so what do we pick?”

“I suppose we’ll see the morning of the wedding. Let’s just hope it doesn’t rain too much. The hotel is like a ten minute walk and we’ll all be soaked if we have to do that in the rain.”

Harry smirked, “Tristan said the bridesmaids wear backless gowns so that means no bra?”

“You’re disgusting.” Lavender muttered, turning to face the space. “We’ll have to rearrange those tables too.”

“Why?” Harry slowly walked behind Lavender, smelling the scent that fit her name perfectly lingering around her as she took in the room, “Because there’s going to be a band and they take up more space than a deejay.” She then turned to face him, “You did contact the band about the number for the first dance, right?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, feeling pride bubble up inside himself when he realized he could rile up Lavender so easily, “Was I supposed to do that?” He faked confusion. He saw the familiar blaze in Lavender’s eyes as her jaw clenched, “Yes.” She tried to stay calm, crossing her arms in front of her chest and making her tits press together, “You were. Serena wants a specific version of that song with just the guitar. Not the regular version.”

“Hm.” Harry slowly nodded, “Yeah, I guess I could give them a call.”

Lavender threw her head back with a groan, “You should’ve already given them a fucking call, Harry.” She hissed, “If they refuse or we don’t get to hear the new version in advance, Serena will kill us.”

“She’ll kill you.” Harry corrected her, “Those long ass nails aren’t coming anywhere near me.”

Lavender stared at him with pure anger radiating from her. He looked so fucking uninterested. His eyes were a little hooded, his jaw clenching with each bite on the gum he no doubt had between his teeth. Harry was always fucking chewing gum. His jaw flexed every time he spoke and it just made her want to claw his fucking eyes out.

He wore a button-up that showed off some of his tattoos, the cross pendant glimmering in the sunlight shining through the large windows as he turned, running a hand through his chestnut curls. He did that thing where he twisted the top part a little bit around his finger, as if hoping it’d stay like that once he let go. His bouncy hair had a mind of its own though and especially today, that one curl continued falling over his forehead no matter how often he pushed it away.

“So if we move those tables.” Lavender sighed, “There’s more room for the band without making the dancefloor smaller.”

“But won’t the tables be too close together?” Harry argued. Lavender tilted her head to the side, “We’ll try. C’mon, help me move that table.”

Harry didn’t seem to jump with joy at the idea but did as she asked nonetheless, moving one of the round tables to sit a little closer to the other.

“So if you sit here, and I sit here.” Lavender pulled back one of the chairs, her back facing Harry’s back who was at the table they just moved, “That’s fine, right?”

He glanced over his shoulder, the backs of their chairs almost touching, “Mhm. But if I need a wee…” He made it a point to scrape his chair back to get up, harshly bumping into the back of Lavender’s head who’s chair scooted up from the sole force he used. She yelped slightly, the cutlery on the table cluttering as Harry bit his lip to stifle his giggle.

Lavender glared at him, “Let’s hope everyone’s polite enough to not need a fucking wee in the middle of dinner then.”

“Right. Sorry, forgot Serena is the queen.” Harry rolled his eyes and got up, pushing the chair back underneath the table. Lavender got up too, “I just want the day to be perfect for her.”

“Lav, there’s bound to be mishaps. No wedding is perfect.” Harry shrugged and Lavender huffed, “Well, Serena wants it to be and I have to task to make sure it is. How’s Tristan, by the way?”

Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his eyes low, “He’s – uh… Yeah, ‘m trying to convince him to blow the entire thing off.”

“What?!” Lavender squeaked and Harry hummed. Lavender took a step closer to him, “Y-You’re kidding me, right?”

“Definitely not. I don’t want those two to get married, Lav. She’s ruining him.”

“Harry.” She shoved at his shoulder in pure shock and he stumbled back a bit with a sputtering laugh, “What are y-“

“Tell me you’re fucking joking!” Lavender spoke in a shrill voice, “Y- What the fuck?! You’re trying to ruin this entire wedding?”

Harry chuckled and shook his head, “Don’t get your panties in a knot, princess. He’s not gonna back out, he’s too much of a wimp for that. But if he does,” His hand curled around her wrist of the hand that was still on his shoulder and he pushed her back, “I’ll find a way to blame it on you.” He teased.

“God – I fucking hate you.” Lavender seethed, “You’d really stand in the way of their happiness?!”

“Happiness?” Harry let out a humourless laugh as he took a step closer to Lavender, “Do you think they’re happy?”

“Yes.” She bit.

Harry arched up an eyebrow and took another step closer, Lavender taking one back until she bumped into one of the chairs. Harry was right in front of her, grabbing her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, “Look me in the eye,” he said, Lavender breathing in the spearmint on his breath as he dropped his eyes to her parted lips for a moment, “look me in the eye and tell me you think they’re happy.”

Lavender swallowed and mustered up the courage to stare into the dark green of Harry’s eyes, “They’re happy.” She spoke. The corner of his lip turned up into a small smile, “You hesitated, Lav.” He tutted.

“Did not.” She shook her head out of his grip, “Now step back and let’s continue.”

“You should really be less tense.” Harry ignored her previous words, “I mean, I know Tristan chose to fuck your friend over you, but I’m sure we can find you someone at the wedding.”

Lavender pushed at his chest and Harry stumbled back again, seeing the angry and hurt look on Lavender’s face. He sighed out while smiling, rolling his eyes, “Lav, I was joking.”

“You’re not fucking funny.” She fumed, “Let’s just continue so I can get the fuck out of here. I’m this close to knocking your teeth out.” She was shaking in anger. Lavender angrily stepped up to the dance floor and looked around, “This is big enough, isn’t it?”

Harry trailed behind a little, “Well, they’ve got a whole routine down with a bunch of steps, so I don’t know. If there’s people watching on the sidelines, it might be a tight squeeze. Serena wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they block her dancing.”

“I hope that’s you.” Lavender muttered before she put her hands on her hips, “Well, we can’t move any more tables, I think. And the band needs to go there.” She pointed to the side.

Harry shrugged, “It’ll be fine. Just relax.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Lavender sneered, “That fixed me.”

Harry rolled his eyes, leaning against one of the tables, “Are you always this fucking uptight? Jesus Christ. No wonder Serena’s such a bitch if she keeps hanging out with you.”

“Well, you’re a coward!” Lavender shouted back. Harry glared at her, “What did you just fucking call me?”

“A coward.” Lavender hissed, taking a step towards him again. Harry clenched his jaw, “Princess, I’d stay there if I were you.”

“Oh yeah?” Lavender taunted, “What are you fucking going to do about it, hm? Cry in a corner, like you’ve been doing for the past six months because your best friend is moving on and taking big steps in his relationships – which you’re way too immature for? You’re just fucking jealous.”

Harry’s hand reached out to grab her chin again, harshly holding her in place, “Shut up.” He hissed.

Lavender felt the pain in her face but hardly cared, even having to fight her smirk, “Hit a nerve, did I? ‘S not my fault you’re not even half the man Tristan is. You’re a fucking child, but it’s very low that you’d stand in the way of your friend’s happiness.”

Harry’s jaw ticked, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lav. He’s not here. Still hoping he’d drop Serena for you?” His eyes then darted over her figure, “Who would… Seems like he made the right choice. You’re both fucking insufferable but at least she’s hot.”

“Fuck you.” Lavender shoved at his shoulders and Harry took a few steps back. Lavender was panting, everything in her stance screaming that she was ready to actually murder him. Her shoulders were trembling and she turned around briskly to not let him see the tears in her eyes.

“Get out.” Lavender spoke, snatching the key from the table. Harry huffed, “There’s way more we need to check here, Lav.”

She shook her head, “I don’t care. Get out.”

“Seriously? Oh come on, y-“

“Harry, get the fuck out.” She hissed. He didn’t budge and raise his brows before sputtering out a chuckle, “Fuck, you’re so sensitive.” He complained, “And then you call me a child.”

“Fine. You lock up then.” She threw the key at him and turned around, walking out. Harry watched her swaying hips and the bounce in her red curls as Lavender stormed out of the wedding venue. She didn’t seem to mind that it rained, perhaps it dosed some of the angry fire lit within.

He chuckled to himself and took his time locking up. By the time he got to his car, hers was already gone. He shifted in the car seat, running a hand through his slightly wet hair before looking down to the bulge in his pants. He exhaled shakily and shook his head, “Nope. Not doing that again.” He forced his mind to go anywhere but the angry glare in Lavender’s warm eyes as she cursed him out.

Harry disliked her tremendously, but playing with her was fun. Dare he say it was the highlight of his life these days. Lavender made fun of it, but he actually was pretty heartbroken in losing his best friend. He knew Tristan would disappear the second he married Selena. She’d get her manicured claws all over him and keep him at bay, and Harry would be without his best bud.

Lav called him childish, he preferred calling it adapting. And so he put all his anger and stubbornness into arguing with Lavender. She was an easy target, riled up so quickly if he undermined her or went against her schedule surrounding this wedding. Harry secretly enjoyed it, and so did his body.

His cheeks turned red when he remembered the last time they had a heated fight like this. She stormed out the same way after they planned to meet up in his apartment to go over a few things. The picture frames on the walls rattled as Lavender had slammed his door shut on her way out. Only a minute later, Harry laid blissed on his bed with his hands in his boxers and his hand wrapped around his wet, hard cock.

He imagined angry, fast and rough sex. He imagined her red hair wrapped around his fist, her eyes tearing and rolling back as he got her off. He imagined how quickly he’d be able to get her off. He imagined how she’d taste and if she was as feisty in bed as with her words. He imagined her mouth being good for far more than just pissing him off.

He imagined shutting her up and fucking her so hard she couldn’t walk.

Who was he kidding earlier, of course she was hot. Beautiful, actually. And she was right when calling him a coward. It’s why it stung so bad, Harry thought he was hiding that better.

Harry didn’t see her again until the rehearsal dinner, two days before the wedding. He ended up giving into her idea and doing a little interlude in the reception where they’d play a game with Serena and Tristan to check how well they knew each other, as well as show some embarrassing pictures of their childhoods and predict what their kids would look like.

He laid eyes on a visibly tired Lavender. Her red hair was curly and untamed, yet she tried with a claw clip at the back of her head. Just a few little strands of curls came out to frame her face. She wore white linen pants and a dark blue crop top, her hands holding a bunch of bags. Serena trailed behind her in a tight dress, smiling and waving at everyone.

“Hey, mate.” Tristan widely smiled at him as he gave him a hug. Harry hugged him back, “Hey. How was the drive?”

Tristan ran a hand through his blonde hair and sat down, “Good, it was fine. Serena and Lav were talking a bunch about dresses and I sort of zoned out.” He chuckled, “Have you been here long?”

Harry shook his head, “No, like thirty minutes. It’s only my first drink.” He smirked. Tristan hummed and stared at the glass of scotch in Harry’s hand, “Order me one of those, ‘m gonna bring our stuff to the room.”

“Will do!” Harry called as Tristan walked off to head into the direction of the hotel rooms. The close friends and family were staying here for tonight, tomorrow and then on Sunday was the wedding. Harry had left work a little early today to drive up here by himself, needing the time to think a little.

Mostly think of how he’d stay away from Lavender. Option one was not drinking anything and staying sober to keep a clear mind – hoping she did the same – so he could avoid her. Option two was simply finding someone else to obsess over the next few days and to sleep with.

He had these thoughts as he sat with an alcoholic drink in his hand, and the second option was out the window the moment she walked into the bar. She was dressed in the same clothes as before but had no bags on her hands. Harry’s eyes followed her as she stood at the bar, “A cup of coffee, please.” Her voice sounded raspy.

Harry took a sip of scotch, “Hey.” He spoke. Lavender glanced at him over her shoulder, “Hi.” She shortly responded.

His eyes lingered on the curve of her waist before he tore his eyes away. He desperately stared at the entrance door, hoping some hot piece would walk in and he’d be more attracted to her than to Lavender.

She cupped her hands around the steaming cup of coffee and scanned the bar for a free seat until Harry cleared his throat, “You can sit here.”

“Fine. As long as you don’t talk to me.” Lavender grumbled, sitting down. Harry sloshed the drink around in his glass as he leaned to the side in the comfortable seat, “You look tired.”

Lavender burned her tongue on her coffee and ignored him. Harry stared at her for a moment, “By the way, can you come by my room later f-“

“Harry, I swear to god – if you’re going to keep talking I’m going to sit somewhere else.” Lavender sighed. He flicked his eyes up to see her tired gaze and huffed out a chuckle, “Really? Where? Think I’m your best bet here, baby.”

She scrunched up her nose, “Ew. Don’t call me that.” And then Lavender glanced around the space to find an empty seat. Harry smiled in amusement, “How about there? Tristan’s younger brother and his mates. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have you in their circle.” He teased.

Lavender saw the twenty-one year old group of frat boys hanging around and drinking beers. Tristan was near a decade older than his brother and Lavender quickly decided it wasn’t a good idea.

“Or there? Serena’s mother seems like a delight.” Harry mocked and Lavender huffed, “If you hate Serena, you’re going to want to kill her mother. And I’m not going to sit there because she doesn’t like me either.” She shot Harry a fake smile, “Look at that, I’m surrounded by people who hate me.”

She took another sip and sighed, “I’m just going to go have this in my room.”

“Hey, stop by later.” Harry spoke again, “We need to go over our speeches so we don’t mention the exact same stuff.”

“What room are you in?” Lavender got up. Harry fought his smirk, “302.”

“Alright. I’ll stop by on my way to Serena’s room for the dinner party.”

He nodded, “Okay. See you.”

Lavender didn’t say anything but simply left. Harry downed the rest of his drink and ordered another, feeling like he truly needed alcohol to get through this night.

He was half dressed for the rehearsal dinner when someone knocked the door. With just his slacks on, he took a look at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles once before going to open the door. Lavender was in a dark red mini dress, clinging to her curves. The neckline was high and her hair was up, a row of simple gold hoops in her ear.

In her hands, she held a creamy dress which Harry suspected belonged to Serena. Lavender closed her eyes and exhaled a breath, “Can you put on a goddamn shirt?”

“Why?” Harry smirked, “Are my abs turning you dizzy?”

Lavender rolled her eyes, “Look, I have my speech here.” She strode into the room, her hips swaying from the height of her heels. She wore a little bit of make-up but not enough to hide the freckles on the bridge of her nose. Harry slipped on a white button-up shirt and took the folded up paper from Lavender’s hand, who went to sit down on his bed.

Harry sat on the chair by the desk to read over her speech, but frowned halfway through, “Lav, this is boring as fuck.”

“What?” She frowned, “No, it’s not. It’s… well – it’s what Serena wanted.”

Harry flicked his eyes up, “She gave you pointers for your speech?”

“Yes.” Lavender shrugged and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Well, don’t think we need to worry about our speeches being too similar. Mine’s nothing like this.”

“Can I read it?”

“Sure.” Harry took some pieces of paper and handed them to Lavender, who cleared her throat as she straightened it out, “Your handwriting is shit.”

“Shut up.” He mumbled, continuing to read hers.

Lavender exhaled a short breath, “Harry… The start of your speech is literally how Tristan went on a date with me first and then went for Serena.”

“Yeah. That’s what happened, isn’t it? It’s funny.”

“For once, I agree with you.” Lavender humourlessly chuckled, “I thought it’d be funnier though if I mentioned it, a matter of not making myself look like a complete fool. But Serena didn’t want me to mention it so I scrapped it.”

“Well, Tris didn’t ask me to scrap it so I’m leaving it in.” Harry simply shrugged. Lavender pressed her lips together and continued reading, feeling her cheeks flush with each passing second, “Harry, this speech is… I mean, Serena’s going to kill you.”

He snorted, “It’s funny. Yours is fucking boring.”

Lavender got up her feet, “It’s not boring. It’s – it’s clean.”

“It’s safe. Forgettable.”

She rolled her eyes and put Harry’s speech back where he had pulled it from, “Well thanks.”

“I mean, freedom of speech right? If Serena didn’t want you to write your own speech, she shouldn’t have chosen you as a maid of honour.”

Lavender headed for the door, “Wow, you’re full of compliments today.” She sarcastically spoke. Harry got up too, following her to the door, “Hey, ‘m fucking trying to back you up here.”

“Well don’t.” She bit.

“Why not?!”

“Because you’re a fucking asshole anyway a- ow!” Lavender yelped in pain when Harry’s slamming door hit her right in the face. Pain flared through her body as Lavender stumbled back, “What the f- you motherfucker!” She yelled.

Harry quickly yanked the door open again, “Shit! Oh my god – shit, I-I thought you were further away.” He stammered in apology, seeing Lavender with one hand cupping her nose. His eyes went even wider when he saw blood seeping from between her fingers.

“The dress!” Lavender shouted, biting back a wince. Harry was too late when he saw blood drops staining the creamy shade of Serena’s rehearsal dinner dress, snatching it out of Lavender’s hand a split second too late. He threw it into his room behind him, rushing over to Lavender who stood bent over cupping her face.

“Hey – shit, shh.” He grabbed her shoulders, “Stand up for me, are you dizzy?” He helped a trembling Lavender to stand up straight. Tears leaked from her eyes as she tried to blink, losing her footing a little bit. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her up, “Shh, shh, it’s okay. Holy shit.” He pulled her into his room.

“Why did you do that?!” She winced, trusting Harry to not drop her before he sat her down on the side of his bed again. Harry crouched down in front of her, “I-I honestly thought you were further away, I didn’t think the door would hit you.”

“You fucking idiot.” Lavender hissed, her fingers curling into the bedding as she tried to deal with the pain. Harry exhaled, “I know – I fucking know. C’mon, let me have a look.”

“I know you’re a nurse and all but I really think I should go to a doctor. H-How’s Serena’s dress?”

“Shut up.” Harry mumbled, pulling at her hand to expose her face. Blood covered her entirely and Harry quickly grabbed some tissues to stop the stream from running down her throat and staining the dress she was wearing too. His free hand was on her bare knee and he squeezed gently, “Okay, okay, lean back a little.”

“God – fucking hell, Harry.” Lavender groaned, doing as he said.

Harry wiped the tissues over her face to clean up the blood and get a better view. He squinted slightly, “Your nose isn’t crooked. I don’t think it’s broken.”

“Fucking feels like it.”

“Can you scrunch?” Harry questioned, tapping one of her nostrils a little and Lavender took a breath through her mouth before scrunching her nose, “Yeah.” She breathed. Harry hummed, “Okay, that’s good. ‘M gonna try a slight pinch, okay?”

“W-Wait.” Lavender held his wrist that was moving up to pinch her nose. Her eyes were closed as she breathed quickly and then nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

Harry squeezed her knee again and carefully pinched the bridge of her nose, “How’s that feel?”

“It’s – It’s okay.” Lavender croaked. Harry nodded, “Okay, definitely not broken. That’s good. Shit, ‘m so sorry, Lav. Let me get something to clean you up.”

“How’s Serena’s dress?” She questioned again and Harry took a quick glance at the dress that he hastily threw on the floor on his way to the bathroom, “It’s – uh, it’s got some drops on it. Perhaps we can wash it out?”

He didn’t wait for Lavender’s response as he brought a wet towel back to her to start cleaning off the blood. Lavender sniffled a little, “Can you hand me some tissues? I need to stop this bleeding.” She held out her hand and Harry nodded, handing her a few as she rolled them up and stuck them up her nose for a bit.

Lavender’s neck strained from the position but the second she sat up normally again, she felt completely dizzy, “Oh – shit.” She mumbled. Harry sat next to her on the bed, dropping the towel again to wrap his arms around her to hold her up, “Easy.” He murmured, “D’you feel okay? Fuck, I feel so bad.”

“You should.” Lavender sighed, rubbing her temple, “I-I need to go shower, I’m going to be late.”

“No, I’ll just wipe off the blood.”

“I need to re-apply my make-up a-and figure out a way to fix this dress. Fuck – the dress.” She felt a pit of dread in her stomach and Harry sighed, “Fuck the dress, ‘s not important right now.”

Lavender pressed her lips together as Harry continued to clean up her face. He was close to her and she smelled his cologne as he had a concentrated look on his face, “Your nose is a bit swollen but nothing too bad. And you have a small cut in your brow.”

“What?”

“Yeah, but it’s not bleeding much. Won’t scar either.”

Lavender didn’t say much but just sighed out as Harry cleaned up her face. “There you go. All good.”

Lavender opened her eyes and sighed out, “Thanks. Fuck, I can’t believe you threw a door in my face.”

“Really didn’t mean to, I promise.” Harry spoke with remorse in his voice. He dropped the bloodied towel on the floor and Lavender’s eyes glanced to his white shirt, “You’ve got blood on your shirt.”

“’S fine.” He shrugged, “It’s a cool story for the party tonight, y’know? People are going to come ask me about it.”

“Just a head’s up that girls don’t fall for that.”

“Damn, my entire strategy to shit.”

Lavender’s lip twitched up in a small smile but it dropped when her phone rang and it was Serena. She got up her feet, Harry quickly following along as she wobbled a bit and pulled the bloodied bits of tissue out of her nose as she felt like the bleeding had stopped. “I’m gonna go see Serena.” Lavender sighed, picking the stained dress off of the floor.

“Oh, I’m coming along, I don’t want to miss this.” Harry teased, “Serena’s gonna lose her marbles.”

“Please let her know it’s your fault.” Lavender sighed. Harry chuckled, “I will. Oh, this is gonna be so good.”

Lavender was less excited than he was when they walked the halls together. Her head still pounded and she tasted blood in her mouth. Her make-up was wiped off but she hardly cared. Her heart pounded, awaiting Serena’s reaction.

When Lavender knocked on the door of Serena and Tristan’s door, she heard hurried footsteps before the door got yanked open, “Where the hell have you been?!” Serena shrieked, “We’re already late!”

She was in a robe with perfect hair and make-up done. Lavender held her breath and glanced at Harry, who kept his mouth shut. He actually felt a little amused at the pure panic in Serena’s eyes. He noticed Lavender shifting a little uncomfortably on her feet, “Something happened – uh… my nose was bleeding a-and the blood…”

“Lav…” Serena’s voice took a low tone as she seemingly already knew what was about to be said. Lavender swallowed and sheepishly held out the dress, “The blood got on your dress. I-I’m so sorry.”

Serena’s eyes widened and Harry fought his laughter at the shock on her face when she saw the blood contrasting the creamy shade of her gown for the night.

“What’s going on?” Tristan was fiddling with his tie as he joined the group of four. Harry cleared his throat but Serena beat him to it, “What happened…” her voice trembled in anger, “was that my idiot of a maid of honour ruined my dress.”

Harry’s smile quickly disappeared when he realized how real and mean the anger of Serena actually was. He glanced to see Lavender, who had her eyes low. Serena angrily snatched the dress out of her hands and threw it on the floor, “Are you fucking kidding me?! Do you want to see me fail or something? Do you hate me?!”

Lavender pressed her lips together, “No, S… Of course not.” She tried but Serena hardly seemed to listen, “You have been doing every fucking thing to undermine me! Not to mention you ogle my fiancé every chance you get!”

Harry’s eyes widened and Lavender opened her mouth but Serena held up her finger, “Don’t fucking speak right now.” She snapped, “You’re a fucking mess! You can’t do anything right!”

Lavender shrunk and tensed and Harry huffed out a breath, “Look, it’s my fault, okay? Lav didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Oh, it’s never her fault.” Serena bit, her face red as she kept her eyes on Lavender, “Always the same excuse, but you’re just trying to steal my fucking thunder!”

Harry went to open his mouth but Serena glared at him and he quickly shut it again, taking a step back.

“Serena,” Tristan grabbed her hip from behind, “you have other dresses with you, just wear one of those.” Even he seemed scared of her.

“That’s not what it’s about!” Serena yelled, directing her anger back at Lavender and pointing her finger at her, “You always fucking ruin everything!” She screamed before turning around and storming off into the bathroom.

Lavender stood there with wide eyes and tense shoulders. Tristan lowered his eyes and Harry sighed out a sharp breath, “Thanks for nothing, Tris.” He muttered.

“No, thank you for nothing.” Lavender mumbled, flicking her eyes to Harry, “Was that your big defence? Taking the blame? I barely heard you.”

He frowned, “Lav, I d-“

“Save it.” She exhaled, turning around to head back to her room. Harry didn’t follow her. As Lavender walked the halls, her bottom lip trembled. Her head still pounded from the blow, but the anger she felt towards Harry for being such an idiot was overpowered by an extreme sadness and feeling of anxiety. Serena blew up quickly, and Lavender knew it. But this was on a different level.

She could hardly blame her and had to keep Serena’s upbringing in mind – but she had literally been screaming in her face for a dress. If it would’ve been her actual wedding dress, maybe Lavender would’ve understood. But it was a dress for a rehearsal dinner and she had four others with her.

Lavender felt the tears in her eyes and jammed her key card into the door of her hotel room so she could cry without any of the wedding guests seeing her. Once inside, she sobbed loudly.

Serena didn’t know this – or actually she did – but Lavender grew up in a shouting household. Her parents did nothing but yell. At her, at each other. Lavender had craved silence and stability all her life and she had gotten none of it so far.

Friendships that came and went with toxic people. She found those toxic people in relationships too, letting her partners drag her down all the time until she felt insignificant. But Lavender was a stayer and not a leaver. It hardly mattered how shitty people treated her, she tried to find a way to stay and see the best in them. Everyone had a good side, but some people had a far worse bad side than others did.

Lavender didn’t talk about her childhood easily, mostly because she felt traumatized by something she found hard to explain. She was never short on anything and her parents were still together to this day, but the yelling. God, the endless yelling. Lavender couldn’t wait to move out and live by herself and be in the quiet. And perhaps because of that, she wasn’t a yeller.

And Serena screaming in her face pained her more than she cared to admit. Her body had a physical reaction to it, and Lavender was shaking and gasping in the room as she walked around a little bit. She went into the bathroom to splash some water in her face, inspecting the cut in her forehead and taking a painkiller for her headache. Her nose wasn’t even all that swollen, and she blew it a few times to get rid of all the blood.

By the time she had laid in bed for a moment, she felt calmer.

And Lavender honestly wasn’t sure what to do. Her anger and sadness made place for that people-pleasing part of her who just couldn’t imagine missing out on her best friend’s wedding – no matter how shitty she treated her.

So Lavender redid her make-up and fixed her dress before putting on a brave face and heading back downstairs.

The dinner hadn’t formally began yet and Lavender kept her eyes low when she entered the room. She went straight to the bar to order a glass of champagne, hardly standing there for all of two seconds before she felt a presence next to her.

“Lav –“ She heard Harry’s voice and turned her head to the side, a boring look on her face, “What?”

“Look, ‘m sorry, okay?” Harry had a look of sorrow in his eyes. For the past thirty minutes he had contemplated going up to Lavender’s room to apologize thoroughly. Instead of doing that, he had to stay with Tristan and listened as he complained about Serena’s temper. Apparently tensions were running high the days before their wedding. Harry had a flicker of hope that perhaps this entire thing would fall through.

Lavender accepted her glass of champagne, “Good for you. But I got screamed at and you didn’t.” She was about to turn around but Harry grabbed her arm, “Stop, come on… I-I didn’t think she’d react like that. Why are you friends with her anyway? She’s horrible to you.” He sighed, “How can I make it up?”

“I told you before,” Lavender hissed, “save it. We’re not friends.” She shrugged her arm out of his grip and went to find Serena to apologize to her again. She spotted her easily, wearing a dark green dress instead of a cream one. She looked gorgeous and radiant as usual and her eyes softened when she laid eyes Lavender.

They only spoke for about a minute. Serena didn’t have too much time on a night like tonight. She apologized to Lavender for shouting and they hugged, and then it was all good. Lavender sat down at the table with her champagne, the chair next to her scraping back as Harry also took his seat.

She shifted in her chair and flicked her eyes over to him, “Why are you sitting next to me?” She whispered.

“Because I want to apologize.” He spoke in an equally hushed whisper. Lavender rolled her eyes, “Stop. Go sit with Tristan.”

“No. I’m going to sit right here until you forgive me.”

“Well, good luck.” Lavender took another sip and then focussed her attention on Tristan’s father who was giving a little speech. Harry stared at her side profile, Lavender very clearly avoiding him. Throughout dinner she didn’t pay him any attention. She sat turned to the side to chat with the other bridesmaids while Harry was stuck next to Serena’s father.

They sipped some wine as Lavender tried her best to avoid him. Harry’s chair was close to hers and she jumped up in pure surprise when suddenly feeling his thumb on her thigh. “Lav.” He whispered. She zoned out of her conversation with Brit and tried to ignore Harry, crossing her legs over one another as she nodded and hummed at whatever Brit was saying.

“Lav.” Harry whispered again.

Lavender’s hand trembled as she took another sip of her red wine and shifted a little more until the entirety of Harry’s palm was on her thigh.

“Will you stop touching me?” She hissed suddenly, scraping her chair back. She turned her head sharply and Harry’s brows raised, a small, amused smile on his lips as he retrieved his hand, “You wouldn’t listen.”

“Because I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone.”

Harry puckered his lips, “You’re talking to me right now.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you I don’t want to talk to you.” Lavender gritted through her teeth.

Harry continued smirking, “Y’know, at the wedding, we’re also sitting next to one another.”

Lavender blinked at him, “No, we’re not.”

“We are.” Harry smirked, “I asked Tristan to change the seating chart.” He held up his phone, showing the text messages between him and Tristan and Lavender hardly looked at it, “Why.”

“Because…” Harry shrugged, “I want you to forgive me.”

“I don’t like you.”

“You will.”

“God – Harry,” Lavender rolled her eyes, “You hate me as much as I hate you.”

“So just tell me you forgive me.” He shrugged. Lavender narrowed her eyes, “You almost broke my nose.”

“Almost.” Harry held up his finger and Lavender scoffed, “Just leave me alone.”

She turned around again to send Brit a smile, “Sorry, please continue.”

Once they were all gone from the tables, Harry mingled a little with Tristan’s family. He knew them ever since he was little and spent a long time talking to his mum.

“So Harry,” She flicked some dust off of his shoulder, “didn’t you bring a date?”

He flashed her a charming smile, “I’m not really the dating type, Andrea.” He chuckled. She took a sip of her wine, “Maybe not, but isn’t it the hype now to bring a date to a wedding? Girlfriend or not?” She checked and Harry raised one of his shoulders, “Nah. I like to…” he puckered his lips, “scope my surroundings.”

Andrea chuckled at the cheekiness she knew so well, “So you’re going to hook up with someone?”

“Andrea.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh and shook his head, “Let’s just see what happens.”

She glanced around the room, “Anyone you’ve got your eyes on? Isn’t it a cliché that the best man hooks up with one of the bridesmaids?”

He followed her gaze to where the bridesmaids were chattering together, one of them being Lavender. The music had gotten louder the past thirty minutes and her hips were softly swaying, a beer in her hand now.

He checked her out thoroughly, scanning the length of her body and the tight dress hugging her figure. The nip in her waist and the width of her hips, the length of her legs and how smooth her skin looked. The dark red looked outstanding on her and Harry wondered why he had never looked at her like this before.

Maybe because he had never before wanted her attention.

He honestly did feel bad about how the evening had gone. Witnessing Serena in all her anger, he realized how tough it had been for Lavender these past few months – basically planning the wedding. Lavender was nice enough to work around Harry’s schedule. As a hospital nurse, he had night shifts and evening shifts all the time, yet she adapted easily.

And he nearly fucking broke her nose. It was a hundred percent his fault that dress had been ruined, but when he heard whatever Serena yelled at Lavender, he had just been frozen. Like… paralyzed. He thought it’d be funny to watch Serena throw a fit, but it was beyond extent. He was surprised at her outburst to say the least, so surprised he could hardly speak.

And now he wanted to apologize, and he wanted Lavender to forgive him.

Any other time, he’d stay as far away from her as possible. They never had anything to talk about and were at each other’s throat, but now he was grovelling.

He knew she didn’t like him, but he needed her to forgive him just for this.

He threw the remainder of his scotch down his throat and excused himself when he noticed Lavender heading towards the restrooms. He put his empty glass down and tucked his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, following after her.

Once in the restrooms, he didn’t hesitate opening the doors to the ladies rooms. Lavender was at the sinks, staring back at him through the mirror with a tube of lipstick in her hand.

Harry stayed by the door, shortly glancing around until he realized they were alone.

“This is the ladies room.” Lavender spoke.

“I know. D’you need to pee?” Harry checked.

“I’m touching up my lipstick.”

He walked over to her until he stood behind her, “Really? ‘S a shame. I’m just going to ruin it again.”

Lavender’s lipstick dropped to the floor when Harry abruptly grabbed her hips and spun her around, holding her around her waist and dipping his head. Their lips brushed together and Lavender’s eyes widened, immediately shoving against his shoulders, “Harry!” She yelped, “What the fuck?!”

He stumbled back, breathless. Lavender frowned deeply as she grabbed the sink behind her. The tension was thick between them, and Lavender didn’t even know why she did it. She pushed herself off the counter, leaving her stuff by the sink as she lunged at Harry and wrapped her arms around him. “Fuck it.” She breathed, crashing their lips together.

He smirked against her lips, immediately responding by holding onto her waist. One hand immediately reached for her ass to pull her into him. He stumbled back with Lavender in his arms, bumping into the mirrored wall behind him. She moaned into his mouth, tasting alcohol on his lips as he engulfed her and pulled her tightly into his chest.

He felt warm. Firm. And Lavender was blinded by lust. Harry was the last man she ever considered being attracted to. She’d always found him hot, from meeting him the first time even. But then his personality showed and she was turned off immediately. Now, she couldn’t even remember why she disliked him in the first place.

Harry turned them around again, pushing Lavender into the wall. His tongue wiggled between her lips, bringing one hand up to cup her jaw and hold her in place. His hips pushed forward to trap her, and he felt himself shuddering as Lavender ran her fingers through the back of his hair, pulling him in further as she arched.

She tasted delicious, red wine on her tongue as Harry used his thumb to push her jaw down and allow him more room to dominate the kiss.

Lavender didn’t have a single thought. Harry’s warm body encaged her, his cologne overwhelmed her and his lips devoured her. She felt dizzy in the best way and her entire body felt on fire, overcome with a sudden lust for a man she used to despise. God he was a skilled kisser.

“Forgive me?” He panted against her lips. Lavender groaned in protest and managed to shake her head before they were caught in another make-out session, “No.” She breathed into his mouth. Harry dug his fingers into her hip and let his other hand slip to her thigh too. Without breaking the kiss, his fingers hiked up Lavender’s tight dress until it sat around her hips, revealing the white lace thong she wore underneath.

Harry sponged kisses over her jaw as he caught his breath and Lavender turned her head to the side to see the entrance door of the women’s bathrooms. Her heart hammered in her chest, “H-Harry, the door.” She gasped as he slipped a hand between her legs. Lavender’s head thudded against the mirror behind her as she trembled, his fingers pressing into her nerves through her thong.

Her fingers involuntary tightened in his hair when he teased her through the underwear, “Someone can walk in.” She stuttered out between shaky breaths and Harry hummed, sucking softly below her ear, “Let them.” He then kissed her again.

One hand steady on her hip, the other between her thighs. Lavender squirmed and he smirked, knowing fully well what he was doing to her. Harry was throbbing in his pants and as he went to sponge kisses over Lavender’s shoulder, he glanced down to see the angelic white on her body.

Lavender was slender and shaped beautifully, and Harry bit his lip, watching as his fingers disappeared into the waistband of her thong as he flattened his hand against her tummy. Right as his fingertips grazed her bare clit, he flicked his eyes back up to stare into Lavender’s.

Her jaw clenched in sensitivity when Harry let two fingertips rest on her budding pearl, drawing the softest, smallest circles. Lavender was tingling, desperately grabbing his hair until she was sure she was hurting his scalp. But Harry only smirked wickedly, enjoying tremendously what he was putting Lavender through.

“Forgive me?” He whispered again, lips brushing over one another. She shook her head, “N-No. Asshole.”

Harry grunted before the two fingers he has used to toy with her clit, slipped lower through her wet slit. Lavender coated his digits immediately in her slick arousal as he spread her pussy lips to work her up. His jaw dropped at the feeling, warm, gooey excitement making the glide easy.

Lavender was panting, her head against the mirror as she checked the door every once in a while. Literally anyone could walk in at any time and see this. Her dress up her hips and Harry’s hand in her underwear. Harry, of all people.

“Look at that,” He cooed teasingly as he dipped the tip of his finger inside of her and Lavender shuddered slightly, “this asshole is about to get you off in less than a minute, get you creaming all over my fingers.”

Lavender pressed her lips together as she tried to hold onto her composure, but her brain was short-circuiting when Harry pushed his finger in a little further, eagerly checking her reactions. She tried to seem unfazed but he could see the rounding of her eyes and the tremble in her bottom lip. Harry’s lip curled up into a half-smirk as he curled his finger up. Lavender’s shoulders tensed and her lips parted wider, inhaling a strangled gasp.

“There we go.” Harry whispered, “Let me tell you how sorry I am, hm?”

Lavender’s heart beat violently as Harry tortured her with one of his long fingers, brushing into her swollen g-spot over and over again to only get her wetter. It was near embarrassing. “I h-hate you.” She managed to croak out.

“Yeah?”

Lavender’s eyes rolled back and she bit her lip hard to stifle a moan when he added a second finger. Harry narrowed his eyes, zeroing in on the way a flush rose up her chest and throat as Lavender fought so hard not to let the pleasure consume her. Harry chuckled out arrogantly when he felt her clenching around his two fingers. She was so fucking warm and wet and his mouth watered, imagining what she’d taste like.

“Still hate me?” Harry checked cockily as he pulled his fingers out halfway and thrusted back in. Lavender jolted up with a stifled whimper, her bottom lip turning white from how harshly she was biting down on it. Her chest heaved up and down as Harry had her in the palm of his hand.

“Lav,” He crooned, “answer me. Still hate me?”

“Uh-h-huh.” She moaned out. Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to her swollen bottom lip, “’S not very polite when I’ve got my fingers inside you.” He whispered, “’S not very polite when I’m about to make you cum.”

Lavender’s eyes glazed over as she managed to shake her head no. Harry smirked wider, “I’m not?” He checked, and Lavender confirmed by shaking her head. Harry nuzzled his nose with her as he put more force into the thrusting motions of his fingers. The palm of his hand rubbed into Lavender’s clit as her wetness seeped out of her cunt to cover his fingers.

“I beg to differ.” He whispered, “You’re right there, I can feel it. C’mon, Lav, don’t be such a stubborn little bitch.” He hissed the last part, adding a third finger. Lavender cried out in surprise, her eyes bulging as her legs shook. Harry’s eyes blazed fire as his fingers fucked into her and Lavender desperately tried to stave off her orgasm.

It was no use. Harry’s fingers massaged her perfectly and she gasped in a pathetic breath. The smirk returned to his lips, realizing very well he was about to make her cum on his fingers, “Feels so fucking tight.” He whispered against her parted lips, “’M so hard for you, Lav. Wish it was my cock inside your wet cunt.”

Lavender panted harder, shaking on her feet as Harry flicked his eyes between hers, “Just like that,” He urged, “get wet on my fingers, c’mon.” He rubbed her g-spot over and over again and Lavender couldn’t stop it anymore. Her body shivered as she harshly tugged Harry’s hair. Her mouth fell open and her eyes rolled back, face scrunching up in delight. Harry hardly knew where to look first, the sight in front of him so erotic.

A pink flush rose up Lavender’s cheeks as she pinched her eyes shut and stuttered out a breathy cry, “God – Harry.” She whimpered his name in a way it made a shiver run down his spine, his cock twitching in his pants when he felt her wet, sticky release on his fingers. His digits continued to work her through her orgasm as Lavender desperately gasped for oxygen, her brain fried with so much pleasure.

Fuck, she couldn’t believe she had just cum on his fingers. Her body slumped against the mirror as Harry wrapped his arm entirely around her waist to steady her. He shushed her gently as her hips trembled, “Shh, baby…” He crooned, kissing her chin once, “that’s good, that’s so fucking good.”

Lavender blinked as she came back to earth, her eyes focussing on Harry who couldn’t help but smirk arrogantly at her wrecked state. Lavender gasped when his fingers slipped out of her gently, Harry shushing her again, “’S okay.” He whispered, something so arrogant about the way he soothed her, knowing full well she was about to whimper in protest of his touch disappearing. He loved it. God, he thrived on it. “No need to pout.” He added, even though Lavender was a billion percent sure she wasn’t fucking pouting.

Her legs felt like spaghetti when Harry brought up his wet fingers to lick them clean, moaning softly at the taste of her. So sweet, resembling honey in the way it stuck to his tongue and hit his tastebuds. He cupped her chin after to press a lingering kiss to her lips.

Without her having to ask, he fixed her underwear a little and tugged her dress down to cover her up. He bumped his nose into hers, “Forgive me?” He asked again.

Lavender swallowed and put her hands on his shoulders to nudge him back. Harry did so, allowing her the space to stand up on her own. Lavender smoothed her palms over her dress as she cleared her throat, “No.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Harry flustered and aching in the women’s bathrooms.

***

Harry watched her the next day, sipping his coffee in silence in the hotel bar. It was a Saturday and the day before the wedding.

She avoided him, so much was clear.

After last night, Lavender felt completely embarrassed and a little frustrated. He was the reason her head hurt all the time. He was the reason she had felt like crap for months in a row, preparing this wedding by herself as he did near nothing to help her. He was the reason Serena lashed out at her and made Lavender cry.

So she gathered herself and stuck around the party for a little longer. She had felt Harry’s eyes burning on her as Lavender flirted with one of the groomsmen and played with a strand of her red hair. She felt his eyes when she drank another glass of red wine. She felt his eyes when she said goodnight to Serena and Tristan and headed up to her room.

He hesitated following after her and finishing what they had started in the bathrooms, but Harry too was slightly flustered. Flustered because Lavender had left him high and dry after he made her cum on his fingers. She rejected him very clearly and he wasn’t sure if it was still a game or not.

So he watched her and made mental notes.

Lavender was the girl who woke up early on Saturday morning and went for a run in skimpy shorts and a sport’s bra.

Lavender was the girl who came back from said run about fifty minutes later, hardly looking like she had broken a sweat.

Lavender was the girl who then went up to shower and dressed casually, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt as her red hair was still wet from showering.

Lavender was the kind of girl who ordered black coffee.

Lavender was the kind of girl who sat with her laptop and headphones on, working on a Saturday even if her best friend was getting married the next day.

Lavender was the kind of girl who fucking ignored him as he sat staring at her from across the bar.

For Harry, the day moved too slow. He was stuck with Tristan freaking out about the wedding, rehearsing his vows and his speech about a billion times. Tristan had a dramatic freak-out about the length of his hair and then also the hair in his nose. Harry couldn’t wait for it to be Sunday so Tristan could get off his nerves.

For Lavender, the day moved too fast. She was behind in work and couldn’t get it done with the way Harry was staring at her from across the room and the memory of her orgasm fresh in her brain. She couldn’t face him – she couldn’t. Lavender had never been more fucking confused. Harry called her ugly not two weeks ago and it was basically the first time they had an interaction where they weren’t yelling at each other.

Instead of yelling, it had been moaning and whimpering. The hair on Lavender’s arm stood up just thinking about it. The jog that morning hardly cleared her mind and all she could think of was how she was supposed to sit next to him the next day. All day.

The night before the wedding was rather calm. Serena spent the night in Lavender’s room so her and Tristan could sleep apart and it was filled with plucking her brows, doing a facemask and painting her nails. Lavender kept her mouth shut about Harry and simply nodded and hummed to whatever Serena was talking about.

The morning of the wedding was spent with more preparations and Lavender having to calm Serena down. They took pictures and took hours to get ready, having a little girl-lunch with the bridesmaids. The day itself flew by and before anyone true and well realized it, Serena was waiting at the end of the aisle with Lavender, ready to walk down to her future husband.

“You look so beautiful.” Lavender smiled gently. Serena was near trembling in anxiety. She exhaled a short breath, “I’m scared I’m going to trip.”

Lavender shook her head, “Just hold onto your dad.” Her head flicked to the side when the music started. Lavender pressed her lips together and Serena grabbed her hands harder, giving her a nod, “See you on the other side.”

“I love you.” Lavender pressed a light kiss to her forehead, running her thumb over it after to not leave a lipstick stain. Lavender brushed her hair over her shoulder and smoothed out her lavender dress, grabbing the bouquet of dried flowers she’d hold to walk down the aisle and wait for Serena at the front.

Lavender took a small breath and glanced at Serena over her shoulder, who was grabbing her father’s arm. The doors opened and Lavender was met with rows of people. An officiant was at the front with Tristan and Harry by his side.

Lavender walked the middle of the aisle, the soft music guiding her to the front.

And Harry couldn’t tear his fucking eyes away. He was sure he wouldn’t blink twice if Serena walked down the aisle in her white dress.

But Lavender looked… astonishing.

Harry’s throat ran dry when his eyes focussed completely on her. Everyone else fucking vanished when she walked out of the building. The summer sun shone down on her, turning her hair just slightly lighter than the dark red it usually was. It was in gentle waves, cascading down her back. Her make-up was simple as usual, and he could see her freckles. And then the fucking dress – was just made for her.

It made her look like she was the bride and Harry held his breath. It was a slip dress, clinging to the curves of her hips. Those hips he had held when he had brought her to orgasm with his fingers. He softly cleared his throat and blinked twice, watching the way her hips swayed from left to right as she made her way up front.

Lavender shot a small smile at Tristan and then stood opposite Harry to wait for Serena. Her eyes briefly flicked up to Harry and he looked at her like he had seen a ghost. Lavender diverted her eyes away but not before realizing that Harry wore a lavender-shaded tie.

Her fingers tightened around the bouquet she was holding at the realization that they matched a little bit in some way. Of course Serena was all about the aesthetic and had paid attention to little details like that.

Harry could hardly focus on the ceremony. The officiant had to ask him twice to bring the rings and Lavender bit her lip to stifle her giggle at that. Her eyes were on Serena and Tristan, a soft smile on her lips as she exuded pure happiness for her friend.

But Harry wasn’t even paying attention to that. He was sure Serena looked pretty. He saw flashes of her dress in the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t stop looking at Lavender. And the more he looked at her, the hotter he felt. Harry felt flushed, realizing they had kissed. Realizing he had fingered her. Realizing he had tasted her on his fingers too.

He was a little late in applauding once Serena and Tristan sealed in their marriage with a kiss. After that, things moved quickly. Lavender and Harry were constantly talking to people and dousing little fires in an attempt to make this the perfect day for Serena and Tristan.

It was before dinner that they shared their first conversation.

“The guy said there’s something wrong with the beamer.” Harry breathed as he took hold of Lavender’s forearm. The champagne sloshed around in her glass a bit as her eyes widened, “Shit.” She muttered, earning raised brows from Serena’s grandparents.

Harry offered them a polite smile before shortly tugging on Lavender’s arm to get her away, “C’mon, let’s go have a look.”

Lavender put her feet down as she fought the grip, “Well, can’t you just go and figure something out? I’m not like… a tech person or anything.” She shrugged.

Harry clenched his jaw, “Lav, let’s just go take a look. I’m freaking out here.”

“I didn’t want this stupid PowerPoint presentation in the first place.”

“Fuck, this again?” Harry huffed, “Look, it’s what we decided on, Lavender. We didn’t have time to figure anything else out. And why are you bringing that up now?” He hissed through his teeth, in clear panic of the little situation.

Lavender took another sip of champagne, shrugging her shoulders, “Because I feel like it.” She pulled her arm back when Harry seemingly reached for it again, “You’ve been getting on my nerves throughout the entire planning of this wedding.”

Harry flicked his tongue over his bottom lip as he exhaled a heavy sigh, shaking his head to himself, “You know…” He lowered his voice as he shot Lavender a hard glare, “really thought I fucked that bratty attitude out of you.”

Lavender’s eyes widened, “You little s-“

“Lav!” Serena’s voice sounded urgent and Lavender offered Harry a small smile, “Oops. Maid of honour duty calls.”

“Lav-“ Harry gritted but she was already turned around and walking away. Harry’s eyes dropped to her ass and he pressed his lips together, sharply turning around as frustration coursed through his veins.

The evening was honestly a rollercoaster. Harry figured out the beamer thing, so the PowerPoint worked as planned. Lavender did most of that, which Harry was grateful for. In turn, he left out the part where Tristan went on a date with her first as he made his speech.

Lavender was grateful for that. So when the desert buffet happened and she managed to take the final piece of cheesecake, she instead slid it over to his plate.

Harry swallowed his wine as he glanced at the cheesecake on his plate. His eyes then flicked to Lavender, who glanced back at him from below her lashes.

“This for me?” He questioned.

Lavender softly cleared her throat, “Yes. Thank you for altering your speech and not make this embarrassing for me.”

Harry slowly nodded, “Thank you for handling the PowerPoint presentation.”

“Thank you for fixing the beamer.”

A small smile spread on Harry’s lips, “Thank you for coming up with the idea.”

Lavender hid her smile behind her glass but eventually puckered her lips, “Look at us.”

“Who would’ve thought, hm?” Harry turned a bit more in his chair to face her, his knee bumping into hers, “That we’d agree on something? Or get along?”

“You know…” Lavender flicked her hair over her shoulder and Harry inhaled her perfume, his eyes dropping to the column of her throat and how he had his lips on her the day before. His fingers clenched over the edge of the chair as the memories came to mind.

Warm, wet pulsing walls around his fingers. Harry near drooled. Lavender saw the parting of his lips and felt a sense of pride and arrogance washing over her. Harry’s eyes briefly dropped to her chest before Lavender continued, “if you think about it, we’re both just… passionate best friends, hm?”

“Of course.” Harry nodded, “We did this for our best friends.”

“They’re very important to us. Tristan to you and Serena to me.”

“Obviously.”

Lavender softly smiled, “See? Agreeing again.”

“Must be something in the wine.”

Her giggle made Harry’s heart flutter and he bit his bottom lip, “Perhaps we were dicks to each other just because we’re such passionate friends.”

Lavender raised her brows, “I don’t think I was a dick to you.”

“You were.”

“I beg to differ.”

Harry tilted his head to the side, “So you don’t think I deserve an apology?”

Lavender smirked while shrugging, “Nope. I think I deserve an apology.”

Harry’s skin felt hot, “I tried.” He rasped.

“Perhaps.” Lavender took a sip of wine, “But I think you can try harder.”

Harry scooted even closer and he even dared to let his hand rest on Lavender’s knee. The warmth from him made her tingle and her eyes dropped to the touch, swallowing her red wine that stained her lips a shade similar to her hair. Harry gave her knee a soft squeeze, “How?” He murmured.

Lavender tried to keep the slamming of her heart under control, “Figure it out.” She smiled before turning around again. Harry’s hand slipped off her leg as he watched her turn her shoulder to talk to someone else.

Lavender didn’t necessarily know this about him, but the challenge spurred Harry on tremendously. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her the remainder of the evening. When Tristan and Serena did their first dance, Harry stared at Lavender who was on the other side of the circle watching them. Lavender held her phone up to videotape them even if there were two professional videographers capturing the moment.

She had a soft smile on her lips and held a beer bottle between two fingers while focussing on the newlyweds. Their eyes met and Lavender tipped the bottle of beer back and continued filming their friends. Harry leaned back against the bar and saw his chance a few minutes later.

The first song.

He walked up to her and snatched Lavender before Tristan or anyone else could. His arm slipped around her waist, the slip dress clinging to her curves as Lavender raised her brows at him, “Wh –“

“Dance with me.” Harry smirked, grabbing the bottle out of Lavender’s hand and putting it down somewhere before guiding her hand to his shoulder. Her cheeks flamed quickly and Lavender looked anywhere besides his eyes as Harry tugged her a bit closer to him by the hand he had on her lower back.

“C’mon, Lav.” His nose brushed her cheekbone as he pulled her closer for the slow dance, Perfect by Ed Sheeran sounding through the venue as couples paired up and slow danced. He brought his other hand to her hip to give a soft squeeze, “Relax a little.”

“I hate this song.” She exhaled and Harry chuckled, his chest rumbling a little, “Me too. Look, agreeing again. Perhaps it’s in the beer too.”

Lavender simply swallowed and tried to not completely freak out by Harry’s closeness. She was so aware of where his fingers were placed around the bones of her hips and how his breath hit her forehead. Her hands were on his shoulders and she let him guide her easily, following along the steps he took.

“How’s the nose?” Harry checked to break the silence.

Lavender huffed out a breath and shrugged. Harry had a sly smirk, “Still look pretty.”

“You called me ugly not even two weeks ago.”

“I was an idiot two weeks ago.”

Lavender refrained from rolling her eyes, readjusting her hands a little bit until they linked at the back of Harry’s neck, “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly…” Harry exhaled, “feeling you cum around my fingers was pretty detrimental.” He casually spoke and Lavender’s eyes widened as she peered over his shoulder, hearing him murmur in her ear as they continued slow dancing. Harry’s thumbs stroked over her dress, “Watching you cum, too. You were almost crying, and your eyes rolled back. Your cheeks turned pink and your heart was beating so fast. And fuck,” He lowly spoke, brushing his lips over her jaw briefly, “your pussy felt so warm and wet. So warm.”

Lavender was at a loss for words. Harry’s hand brushed the top of her ass before modestly placing it back on her back. The low cut of the dress on her back made it easy to trace his fingers over her vertebrae, “Tasted so fucking sweet, too.”

Lavender swallowed, “S-So I was ugly until I took off my clothes?” She asked to clarify, keeping her voice from shaking. Harry frowned and pulled back a little, seeing Lavender’s challenging eyes. He quickly glanced around them before using one hand to cup her jaw and placing a delicate kiss on the high of her cheek, “Not at all. Just made me see you differently. Let’s be honest, you were never ugly. Not by a long shot. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room. I-In every room.”

“God, you really want to hook up at this wedding, don’t you?” Lavender had some disgust laced in her voice as she increased the distance between them again, “Guess Serena’s grandmother’s old necklace isn’t the only thing that’s blue in here.” She spoke, referring to Harry’s balls.

He pressed his lips together, “Will you just fucking believe me when I tell you that I’m attracted to you?” He gritted through his teeth and Lavender huffed, “Why would I? You’ve made my life hell the past six months.”

“And I want to make it up to you.” Harry pressed, “Think I would’ve fingered you in that bathroom if I didn’t really want to? Think I didn’t jerk myself off afterwards thinking about it? Think I haven’t done the same thing multiple times in the past few months?”

Lavender’s eyes rounded at the information, and she could imagine Harry sitting at home with his hand down his pants and her on his brain. Her throat ran dry and Harry took another breath, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. And we won’t see each other anymore after today.”

His words held truth and Lavender’s heart actually did sink a little. Harry was a pain in her ass and he had successfully wound her up so badly over the past few months that Lavender felt so much anger and frustration that she hardly knew what to do with it. All she wanted for the past six months was for this wedding to be over already. So she could go back to spending her free time however she saw fit, and so she could go back to not having to interact with Harry so often.

Yet now that the time was close, she actually dreaded it. Their bickering. God, what is wrong with me – Lavender thought. She swallowed and eventually dared flicking her eyes up to see Harry, getting lost in the deep green of his gaze. Maybe fucking him really was the one thing she needed to get rid of that frustration. Maybe it’d even feel good. She could be on top of him, choke him, dominate him a little bit to finally gain the upper hand.

A heat spread over Lavender’s body and she softly nodded, “Okay.” She rasped.

Harry’s lips curled up into a grin, “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” Harry murmured, squeezing her hip again, “And don’t backtrack on me, Lav. We’re doing this. I’m going to make you feel how sorry I am. All night long.” He spoke directly in her ear again, sensing a shudder that ran down her spine at his words. He brushed his lips over the shell of her ear, “If you can handle it.”

“I can handle it.” She spoke in a wavering voice. Harry’s cock twitched in his pants at the way she tried to sound feisty but failed. He hummed, “I know. You’re going to be good to me and I’m going to be good to you.” Harry pulled back and tapped his pointer finger underneath her chin, “Always telling me I’ve got such a big mouth hm? I’ll put it to use real good tonight.” He smirked before tapping her top lip and turning around.

Lavender was a panting mess on the dancefloor and she stared at Harry’s back as he walked away from her. She didn’t have to see his face to know he had a shit eating cocky grin on his face. He knew so well what he was doing, leaving her with the thought of his tongue between her thighs so she wouldn’t change her mind.

Lavender felt sweaty and headed into the bathroom for a bit, her cheeks red as she used some toilet paper to get rid of the arousal between her legs. She swallowed thickly as she tried to calm down, tried to get the jittering of her thighs under control. She flushed the toilet and went outside to wash her hands and join the party again.

It felt like time crawled by as slowly as it could. Harry and Lavender made eyes at one another from across the room as they tried to be polite and talk to some of the guests. Lavender had a dance with Tristan as Harry danced with Serena for a moment. It felt awkward to say the least. Harry truly did dislike Serena a lot and Serena kept her eyes on her new husband and her best friend – still a sense of insecurity there since he went on a date with Lavender first.

Lavender pulled herself out of Tristan’s arms a few seconds before the song ended and forced him a small smile, heading to the bar next to grab another beer.

Harry chuckled at the sight, a beautiful woman in a soft lilac dress, drinking beer from the bottle.

By the time some of the older guests started heading up to their rooms, Harry found Lavender at the bar. He subtly placed his hand on her lower back and she jumped up, flicking her head to the side, “Oh. Hey.”

“Hi.” He breathed. Harry nibbled his lip for a moment as he scanned the room, “Wanna get out of here?”

Lavender’s cheeks heated at his words and her legs felt weak again. She remembered the way he fingered her to an orgasm so mindblowing she nearly passed out. She finished up her beer and nodded, “Okay.”

Harry nodded, “Okay. Let’s go, we can sneak out here.”

“Serena will be looking for me later.” Lavender spoke as Harry pulled her out of the room and towards the back exit, “To help with her dress.”

“Tristan can help with her dress.” Harry argued. Before they made it outside, he pushed her up against the wall. With one hand tangled in her red hair, he pushed his lips on hers urgently. Lavender squealed in surprise but reacted quickly, holding onto Harry’s broad shoulders as his tongue wiggled its way between her lips.

Lavender was putty in his hands, melting into his body and running her fingers through his hair as they made out. His tongue was soft and wet, flicking the tip of it against hers and licking up the roof of her mouth to get Lavender dizzy. She chased him once he pulled back, bringing him in for another kiss.

Harry smirked against her, feeling as she arched her back and pressed her tits into his chest. His hand dropped to her ass to hold her close and they eventually did pull back for air. He nipped on her jaw, tasting the remains of her perfume, “Fuck Serena.” He mumbled, “She doesn’t need you anymore tonight. I do. And besides, you won’t be able to walk once I’m done with you. Gonna keep you in bed all night.”

Lavender’s eyes fluttered at his promise and she hastily nodded, “Y-Yeah. Okay.”

Her body felt cold as Harry pulled back, taking her hand again to pull her outside of the venue and head towards the hotel. The steep, uphill walk proved a bit of a difficulty in the dark. Lavender’s heels got stuck in the grass and she helplessly trailed behind Harry a bit.

“Lav, let’s go.” Harry impatiently tugged at her and she hissed under her breath, “I’m wearing heels.” She bit.

Harry rolled his eyes and they eventually made it towards the entrance of the hotel. They hurried in, Harry’s key card in hand as he pulled her towards the elevator. They were both out of breath, but Lavender grabbed his tie and pulled him into her. His hands kneaded her waist as they grabbed at one another and hotly made out again. He stole the breath out of her lungs and Lavender moaned shakily at the way his thigh pressed between her legs.

“Come on.” Harry panted once the doors opened. His hair was messy and his cheeks were pink. His tie was partly undone from Lavender’s fingers tugging at it earlier and they stumbled towards Harry’s room. Lavender scanned the hallway to make sure no one caught them until Harry finally managed to open the room.

“Fuck, I can’t wait.” He moaned, immediately shoving her on the bed. Lavender gasped in surprise as she thudded on the white sheets, staring up at the ceiling until Harry hovered over her. Lavender’s eyes couldn’t focus as he yanked on the tie to get rid of it. His eyes dragged down her form, lingering on the sight of her hardened nipples through the soft purple shade of her dress.

He kissed her again, a lot slower this time. Lavender’s brain exploded as his tongue expertly roamed around her mouth and his hands touched her waist. He discovered her shape, moving his palm up to cup her breast over her dress. Lavender arched and restlessly kicked her legs for more. Harry kissed down, nipping on her throat and the swells of her breasts as his hands hitched up the dress.

“Gonna make you feel how fucking sorry I am.” He grunted, dropping down the bed to sit on his knees on the side of it. Lavender panted pathetically when she felt his fingers around her ankles, undoing her strappy heels which thudded to the floor.

His hands then slid up her thighs, pulling the dress up with it. He kissed over her shins, her knees and higher up until bunching her dress up around her hips. “Holy fuck – Lav…” Harry breathed at the sight of her soft pink lace thong. He dropped his forehead to her thigh with a whimper, “Shit.”

“I w-wanna –“ Lavender breathed as she pushed up her elbows, her eyes glazed over as they locked with Harry’s, “I wanna be on top.”

“Oh – fuck, gladly.” He quickly responded, getting up again to lay down on the bed next to her. Lavender struggled with her long dress for a bit until Harry played with the strap around her shoulder, “Take it off.” He spoke.

She stared at him for a moment and dragged her eyes over his very clothed body, “If you get naked too.”

Harry smirked and nodded, “Deal.”

“And – uh… I’m going to turn down the lights a little bit.” She got up her feet and stumbled towards the door, locking it and then dimming the lights a little bit. Harry didn’t object, following her body as Lavender then ran a hand through her hair and exhaled a shaky breath. He was fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as she grabbed the hem of the dress to slip it off.

Harry’s throat ran dry at the sight of her naked body. She was shaped beautifully, her ribs showing when she lifted her arms high. A little flower tattoo below her right breast and a dip in her waist before the showing of full thighs.

He licked his lips involuntary and Lavender’s heartbeat quickened when she watched the way his hand pressed down on his crotch for a slight bit of relief. It boosted her ego and she approached him, “Lay back.”

Harry did what asked easily, making himself comfortable before urging Lavender to climb on top of him.

“Take off your panties.” He urged and Lavender shook her head, her cheeks a soft pink as insecurity took over. Her thighs were split on each side of Harry’s head as he linked his hands around her legs to grab her ass. Her hands steadied on the headboard and she stared into his eyes. Harry’s breath felt hot on her core and Lavender shuddered softly before carefully lowering herself.

Harry parted his lips to lick up her panties, attempting to taste her through the lace. His fingers dug into her skin as he moaned, “Fuck – Lav, take them off.” He gritted. Lavender shook her head again, her thighs burning as she held herself up and searched for a rhythm. His tongue was wet, pressing into her clit and Lavender moaned softly.

Harry urged her to sit down fully but Lavender fought his grip. He groaned in protest, “Lavender, fucking sit down on my mouth.” He slapped her ass and she squeaked, toes curling into the bedding at the feeling. They locked eyes and he could see the way she hardly knew what to do with herself.

“Fucking brat.” He hissed, grabbing her hip to throw her off. Lavender yelped as she fell back into the bed and Harry was quickly on top of her again, “Too proud to admit you don’t even know what’s good for you.” He grumbled in frustration, yanking her underwear down her thighs to leave her fully naked.

Lavender hardly had the time to blink before his palms spread her thighs for him and he dove in without warning. His tongue slipped between her folds and he locked his lips around her clit to give a harsh suck.

“Harry!” Lavender cried out his name, throwing her head back as her body shook in sudden pleasure. He hummed against her, “There we go, that’s it.” With her arousal on his lips he kissed higher, spitting down on one of her nipples before sucking the bud between his lips too. Lavender couldn’t remember how to breathe when Harry handled her body like he had been fucking her all his life. He knew exactly where to touch her, better than she knew it herself.

Lavender thought she knew what she liked, but Harry touched her like no one had before. Soon, his mouth was back between her legs to salaciously let his tongue do the apologizing for him. He spelled a hidden message on her clit and his lips passionately kissed around her folds before he pushed his tongue inside her.

The sounds leaving Lavender’s lips were filthy to say the least. She moaned and whimpered and gasped as he pleasured her, not caring that the neighbouring rooms could probably hear it all.

“God – Harry… Oh my god.” Lavender breathed as he flexed his tongue inside of her, eating her like it was his last meal. “Like that?” He panted as he sucked in a desperate breath. His fingers prodded around her cunt as he pushed in two at the same time, hooking them up so the tips of his digit massaged her sweet spot.

Lavender’s eyes rolled back and she shuddered, head lolling to the side. Harry watched, licking over her clit, “Lav.” He hissed, “Like that?” He repeated.

“Uh-h-huh.” She stammered, “Fuck, Harry… just like that. R-Right there.” Her fingers tangled in his hair as he flicked his tongue over her pulsing clit, “Right there, hm?” He pushed his fingers in deeper and she gasped, “Y-Yes! I’m gonna cum.” She whimpered.

“I know.” He tutted. His shoulders pushed against her thighs to open her up more and his mouth worked her clit as he fingered her – gently yet purposefully. With each stroke, Lavender tensed up more until he felt a harsh clench around his digits. He flicked his eyes up to see her spasming and whimpering, her mouth open and her fingers clawing at the sheets.

He kept her going a little longer until Lavender crawled away from him with a high whine, “S-Stop – I’m –“ She gasped and Harry hummed, kissing the inside of her thigh before gently pulling his wet fingers out. He used his tongue to clean her up a little bit, avoiding her sensitive clit but needing every drop of her arousal in his mouth.

Lavender laid panting on the bed, her thighs trembling as Harry ate her out. She gasped every time his nose bumped her clit and eventually he hummed, “Sweet little pussy.” He murmured – almost more to himself than to her. He kissed her thighs and then her hips, her waist, her tits and her neck and then her lips. “Good?” He asked between kisses and Lavender simply hummed, “Y-Yeah.”

“How come you don’t know what you like, hm?” Harry took a moment to let her rest even if his dick was fucking suffocating in his pants. Lavender blinked up at him, Harry resting between her thighs as she managed a shrug, “I-I don’t know. No-one has ever – uh… taken the time. I suppose.”

“’S not about time.” Harry shook his head as he kissed her chin, “It’s about paying attention.”

Lavender felt the feeling in her body returning, her fingers lazily playing with Harry’s curls as she hummed, “Well, thank you for paying attention.”

“Gladly. Fuck, that was amazing.” He kissed her pouty lips again, obsessed with the feeling, “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Almost.” Lavender teased, a small smile playing on her lips. Harry breathed out a chuckle and kissed her neck, sighing out, “Lav – I’d love to lay here and chat but I’m really fucking dying over here.” He spoke in a strained voice.

Lavender hummed, running her hands down Harry’s naked back. He was muscular and quite ripped – her fingers tracing his bulging muscles until reaching the waistband of his pants, “Take off your pants.” Lavender spoke.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed up his knees and quickly undid the button and zipper of his slacks, revealing light grey briefs underneath.

His bulge was rather ginormous and Lavender pressed her thighs together at the sight as Harry got up his feet to rid himself of his clothes completely. “Fuck.” She whimpered when his hard cock slapped up his tummy, leaving a glistening streak of precum on his skin between the two fern tattoos decorating his hips.

Lavender rolled on her tummy and climbed to the edge of the bed where Harry stood. He stared at the length of her back and her plump ass, slightly red from the slap he gave her earlier. Lavender rested on her elbows and stroked her fingers up his thighs, peering up at him.

Harry understood without having to ask. He took hold of his cock around the base and tapped the tip into her bottom lip, “Gonna suck me off, baby?”

“Yes.” Lavender nodded. Harry hummed and brushed her hair away, “Knew you were gonna be a good girl to me. This your way of telling me you’re sorry too?”

Lavender’s thighs clenched again and she quickly nodded, “Yes.” She obediently opened her mouth and Harry groaned, guiding himself in. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, needing a bit of time to adapt to the size of him. She hadn’t done this in a while and relaxed her throat as Harry was careful too.

Her lips wrapped around his shaft as Lavender hummed, wiggling her tongue over the veins of his cock before putting pressure around his tip. Harry’s toes curled into the carpet he was standing on as he threw his head back, “Holy shit – Lav… S-So good. Again.” He grabbed her hair in his fist and Lavender did as told, sucking and hollowing out her cheeks.

One of her hands came to cup his balls and play with him as her mouth tried to take as much as possible of him. His cock was glistening in her spit as Lavender deepthroated him, gagging slightly as Harry thrusted forward.

He moaned out when her throat tightened around the head of his throbbing cock, his thighs trembling at the feeling, “Yes – baby, so fucking tight.”

Lavender hummed in response, giving his balls a squeeze and Harry gasped, quickly yanking her hair and pulling back. Lavender coughed slightly at the feeling, her throat a little sore. Lines of spit webbed between her lips and his twitching cock as Harry panted out harshly. He held her hair tightly and Lavender stared at him until he shook his head, “Gonna finish inside you. Don’t think I’m done apologizing yet.”

Lavender swallowed as Harry pushed at her shoulder, making her tumble back on the sheets until he grabbed her hip and rolled her over. Lavender saw stars from the quick rolling around, her hair flying around as she found herself on her stomach. Harry’s fingers locked around her hips, pulling her up and pushing his knees between hers to spread her.

She was speechless and breathless, her fingers digging into the comforter as Harry scooted in behind her. Lavender swallowed and glanced at him over her shoulder, her cheeks pink from the compromised position she was in, “Do you have –“

“Yes.” Harry cut her off, holding up the condom in his hand. Lavender nodded, “Okay.” She breathed. Harry kneaded her ass, ripping the package with his teeth until rolling the rubber down his shaft. He saw Lavender shivering as he hovered over her, and he placed his hands next to her head to kiss her shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yes.” She nodded, “Please.”

“Please what?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. Harry raised his brows, raising up again and placing both palms on her ass, digging his fingers in warning, “Lavender.” He pressed. She kept her lips closed together and Harry raised his hand, slapping her once. Lavender squeaked through her teeth, “Please, fuck me.” She choked out.

He couldn’t fight the smirk on his lips. Harry soothed her reddened skin with his hand as he guided himself to Lavender’s wet pussy. His tip caught with her entrance, “Do you forgive me then?”

Lavender couldn’t think straight, a breath stuck in her throat when Harry inched forward. His thick cock pushed inside her, her walls expanding as his tip popped in. Harry’s fingers tightened around her ass cheeks as he felt her warmth and wetness snugly welcoming him. God she was tight.

“Lav, do you forgive me?” Harry panted. Lavender tensed her shoulders as Harry filled her slowly, “Y-Yes.” She whimpered. Harry clenched his jaw and slammed forward, making Lavender scoot up on the bed, “Can’t hear you.” He gritted. Lavender cried out and dropped her head forward, thighs shaking as Harry’s cock filled her, “Yes!” She sobbed, “Fuck – yes, I-I forgive you.”

“Good girl.” Harry whispered, leaning over her again. Her hair was wrapped around his fist as he cocked her back, making Lavender gasp. Her cheeks were red and her mouth open as Harry started moving. Quick, sharp thrusts into her wetness. He grunted into her shoulder, “Jesus christ.” Harry cursed, “Wet little slut.”

“Oh god.” Lavender croaked as her back arched more. Harry straightened up and held one hand on her hair, the other on her shoulder to push her down and immobilizing her. His hips were relentless as he pounded her into the bedding, the headboard slamming into the wall with each thrust. Lavender moaned, tears streaming down her cheeks, “H-Harry…” She sobbed, “I’ve never…”.

“You’ve never what?” He panted. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up, her back pressed against his chest as Harry pulled her up on his lap to fuck her like that. Lavender’s head rested on his shoulder as she whimpered out, “I-I’ve never been fucked like this.” She confessed in a daze. Harry kissed her neck and gave her breast a squeeze before venturing his hand more south, between her legs, “I can tell. Are you gonna cum again?”

“Yes.” Lavender breathed and Harry puckered his lips, “C’mon, baby… Let me feel your tight pussy squeezin’ my cock.” His fingers found her clit and Lavender slumped against his chest. Her breathing stuttered as she wrapped her arms around him, leaning back further but needing something to hold onto.

“Good.” Harry panted, continuing the sharp pumps of his hips to fuck into her, “Good, good, good.” He rubbed her clit and Lavender breathed harder, “I’m – oh god… Harry…” She whimpered, suddenly shuddering and trembling. Harry held her tighter and didn’t stop the torture of his fingers until he felt her squirting.

Lavender’s orgasm was wet and endless, her arousal spilling past Harry’s cock as she gushed every time he brushed into her g-spot. She moaned and cried out as Harry elongated her orgasm. Lavender eventually fell forward, Harry grabbing her hips to follow along as he continued snapping his hips.

Her thighs trembled uncontrollably as Lavender sobbed into the bedding, squeezing her legs together until Harry lost contact and slipped out. He made Lavender roll on her back but she curled into a ball in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry chuckled and snuggled against her, wrapping his arm around her. She was warm and sweaty and Harry brushed her hair away, kissing her jaw, “You okay?”

“Oh my god.” Lavender whimpered, “I’m – wow.”

“Wow you say?” Harry teased, “I mean, I get that I’m good but wow…”

“Shut up.” She groaned, blinking her eyes open. Harry smiled and Lavender giggled back. They rolled around the sheets for a bit and they kissed a little bit. Harry nipped below her ear, “I made you squirt.”

“Hm, you did.” Lavender lazily responded. Harry kissed lower, “I want a taste.”

Lavender’s eyes opened quickly, “Wh – Harry, I don’t think I can d-“

“Shh.” He tutted, shuffling between her thighs. Lavender hardly stopped him and then relaxed into the bed as she felt his tongue on her. He wasn’t as purposeful or harsh with it as the first time. He lazily ate her out, being gentle and passionate again. Lavender sighed and hummed in bliss until Harry hovered over her again. His lips were wet in her arousal and Lavender chuckled, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Can you believe we missed this for six months? Think of all the times I could’ve had you like this.” Harry rolled them over again until Lavender was on top of him. She hummed and straightened up, pushing her tits together, “You were too busy being an asshole.”

“Shut up and ride me.” Harry grinned. Lavender threw her head back in a laugh, glancing at his dick which was still full hard. Harry followed her gaze and exhaled as she sat on his thighs, “Wish I could fill you up.” He admitted.

Lavender bit her lip and leaned over him, giving Harry a kiss, “Well, why don’t we take it off?”

“What? The condom?” He frowned.

“Mhm.” She nibbled her lip, “I’m – uh… I’m clean.”

Harry threw his head back, grabbing her thighs as he lowly groaned, “Shit, Lav… Are you serious?”

Lavender blushed softly, “We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“No, fuck, I’m not uncomfortable. Not at all.” He urged her to rest on top of him a bit more, hard cock trapped between their tummies as he brushed her hair away, “You wanna feel it, don’t you?” He murmured.

Lavender softly grinded into him and Harry puffed out a soft moan before continuing, “You want to feel how I cum inside you? How I fill you up?” His free hand travelled down her side until teasingly slapping her ass cheek. Lavender gasped and scooted up a bit, sitting on top of his dick now and grinding back and forth.

“You want to feel how I fucking claim you?” Harry cupped her jaw and Lavender panted out, managing a nod, “Yes.”

“So filthy.” He whispered, “Such a filthy little slut for my cock. ‘S really all you needed, isn’t it? A good fuck? A pussy full of cum?”

“Fuck.” She panted, eyes glazing over in lust. Lavender’s hand slipped between them as she removed the condom, tossing it somewhere to the side and off the bed. She then started stroking him gently as they shared a few breathy kisses. Lavender eventually positioned him, feeling Harry moan into her mouth and cup her jaws when she sunk down on him.

She took it slow, feeling how sore she was after the way he fucked her before. But Harry needed an orgasm and he needed Lavender to get him there. So he let her explore him. She straightened up as she searched for a rhythm, Harry sprawled out below her. His eyes were hooded as he stared up at her. Bouncing tits, wild untamed hair, swivelling hips as she took him.

“So sexy.” He slurred as Lavender started bouncing. His jaw dropped, moaning out in bliss as her warmth engulfed his cock easily. He knew she was struggling. She was sore and her thighs burned and ached from how the night had gone until now. His hands were on her legs, helping her move.

She felt amazing without a condom. He felt her so clearly, and she felt him too. Every vein wrapped around his cock pressed into her walls and Lavender leaned over him again, both hands next to his head as she arched out her back. Her eyes closed, her mouth open as she fucked him.

“Fuck – Lav, ‘m not gonna last.” Harry groaned, his hips restless as they bucked up and they met halfway. “F-Faster, please.” He choked out. Lavender nodded. She felt the way his fingers dug into her hips and how he slammed up inside of her. She picked up the pace, ignoring the burn and strain in her thighs.

“I’m gonna cum.” Harry moaned, “Shit – baby, ‘m gonna cum so hard. Fill you up so fucking good.” He clawed at her shoulders, jerking his hips up sharply until his jaw dropped and his back arched. His eyes screwed shut as Harry shakily grunted, hissing through his teeth as his cock pulsed inside of Lavender.

She panted out, continuing the bucking of her hips as he released inside of her.

“Holy shit.” Harry moaned, “Just like that, just like that, just like that. Take it.” He stayed deep inside of her, giving Lavender every drop of his orgasm. She whimpered at the feeling, sliding her hands up his chest and into his neck before she dropped down on top of him. Harry hummed, wrapping his arms around her form as his eyes fluttered shut.

Both relaxed and melted into the bed. His fingers stroked her side gently and Lavender regained her breathing, puffing out into his sweaty neck. Harry kissed her shoulder, feeling Lavender clenching sporadically around him as he was still inside of her.

“Lav.” He eventually murmured. She grumbled something back and Harry exhaled, “’M about to fall asleep.”

“Oh.” Lavender untangled herself from him and straightened up with slightly pink cheeks. She shifted and then slowly lifted off of him, making Harry gasp in sensitivity. His cock slipped out, drops of his cum leaking out of Lavender as she clumsily rolled on the bed next to him, “I’ll get going, let you sleep.”

“What?” Harry rolled on his side too, watching as she reached for the tissues, “that’s not what I meant.” He added. Lavender looked at him over her shoulder as she sat on the edge of the bed, “It’s fine, Harry.”

He huffed, “I’m not kicking you out. Not at all. Just meant we should clean up and get to sleep. Maybe we should sleep in your room? Bed’s dirty.” He yawned. She froze when staring at him, “You… you want to sleep together?”

“Well, yeah.”

Her cheeks pinked further and Lavender reached for her dress, “Uh – yeah. Okay.”

“Unless you don’t want me to.” Harry added. She forced a small smile, “No, it’s fine. But yeah, I feel like we should shower. I’m gonna shower in my own room though, all of my stuff is there.” She pulled the dress over her head to cover herself up and ran her hands through her hair. Harry was still naked on the bed, watching with slight amusement how Lavender searched for her panties amongst the pieces of clothing that littered the floor.

She sheepishly held them up once she found them, bunching them in her fist as she headed to the door, “So – uh… yeah.” She mumbled and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “I’ll come to your room after I shower. 412, right?”

“Yep.” Lavender exhaled. She shot him another awkward wave before exiting the room and leaving Harry on his own. Lavender let out a few deep breaths as she roamed the halls, luckily not bumping into anyone. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun seemed to rise already once she got into her own room. Bed untouched, sheets crisp and clean. The room was basically unused.

Lavender slipped off the dress again and jumped into the shower while Harry did the same. He washed up and squirted some shampoo in his hand to wash his hair. He saw some marks on his chest from where Lavender’s mouth had been. His dick was sensitive and tingly, a hiss escaping his lips as he washed himself.

Eventually Harry put on sweatpants and a shirt, taking a small bag of toiletries with him as he headed towards Lavender’s room. He felt nervous, all of a sudden. Their moment had been broken of course, by showering separately. Maybe she wasn’t done in the shower, or maybe she had fallen asleep already. Or maybe she changed her mind and wouldn’t let him in.

His knuckles came down on her door after a few minutes and Harry anxiously shifted in the hallway, glancing left and right to make sure no one could see him slipping into her room. The first shock was that Lavender did open up the door, with wet hair hanging over her shoulder and her face bare of make-up.

His lips curled up into a smile, “Hi.”

“Hey.” She breathed, opening the door a bit wider. “Had a good shower?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. You?”

“Mhm.”

She wore cotton underwear and a t-shirt with rips in it. Lavender shifted on her feet a bit, arms crossed in front of her chest, “So – uh… which side of the bed do you want?”

Harry chuckled and walked up to her, cupping her cheeks for a deep kiss. Lavender sighed out through her nose, kissing him back and losing all awkwardness or shyness around him. She wasn’t sure what Harry wanted by sleeping here or how tomorrow would go. But tonight had been incredible. She was sore and achy, but Lavender didn’t want it any other way.

Sex with Harry had been so amazing. Their tension made for great chemistry too. They would never be best friends but this was the longest they had gone without arguing. No one had ever made her cum that hard and Lavender had never had sex like that before. It was true, that she hardly knew what she liked in bed. In the past she mainly slept with men who searched for their own pleasure. No one had ever paid her such attention.

Harry tasted like toothpaste as they kissed, and Lavender pushed up her toes as he pulled her into his chest. They pulled back with a little smack and he patted her ass with an easy grin on his lips, “Whichever side you’re on. I like spooning.”

They awoke a few hours later, a mess of tangled limbs between the sheets. Harry had spooned Lavender to sleep and they woke up in a similar position. Lavender was quite grumpy and Harry kissed her neck and chest, prying off the shirt to make her feel better and wake her up properly.

They kissed and cuddled until they knew they needed to check out. Harry kissed her as he went back to his own room to pack his stuff.

With his bags, he went to the reception downstairs and bumped into Tristan – who asked him all about the hickey in his neck and the tiredness in Harry’s eyes. Apparently Tristan and Serena didn’t even have sex, and Harry felt smugly proud of the fact that he actually did have incredible sex.

His eyes were drawn to Lavender immediately when she entered the room, carrying just a small suitcase with her stuff in it. Her hair was curly and up in a ponytail as she wore black slacks, sneakers and a crop top. She looked radiant and Harry zoned out, ignoring Tristan as his eyes were on Lavender.

She was smiling and chatting with Serena and they eventually came up to Harry and Tristan. The newlyweds would leave for their honeymoon tonight and everyone sort of got ready to leave. They hauled their bags into he cars and Lavender slowly walked up to Harry’s car as he was putting his stuff in.

“Hey.” She breathed. He turned around with a small smile, “Hi, you.”

Lavender leaned against his car, playing with a strand of her hair, “So – uh… any plans today?”

“Not much.” He shrugged, “Just sleep, I think. You?”

“Yeah, same. It’s been a wild six months.”

They fell into some silence before Lavender cleared her throat, “Listen… Thank you for last night. I had a lot of fun and… yeah.”

“You’re thanking me for sex?” Harry teased and Lavender rolled her eyes, “Don’t make this weird.”

“I’m not.” He laughed, stepping up to her. His hand rested on her bare waist and Lavender immediately looked around to make sure no one saw them. Harry kept his eyes on her, “Can we see each other again?” He braved through his nerves to ask the question that had been on his mind ever since laying eyes on her in the lavender-shaded dress.

Lavender’s eyes rounded as she stared up at him, “Wait – really? Like… for sex?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, “Or, you know… maybe we really could get along. Become besties.”

“Doubt that.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled. Lavender softly smiled and exhaled, “Look, I-I think we both knew what this was. We’ve been at each other’s throats ever since we met. I don’t know if we should make this into more than what it was.”

Harry’s smile dropped a bit and he nibbled the inside of his cheek, “Maybe not. But it might be worth a shot to see if it could go somewhere, don’t you think?” He pressed. Lavender avoided his eyes and scratched the back of her neck, “Maybe one date.” She gave in.

Harry’s beaming smile made Lavender chuckle too. He tapped his thumb on her chin gently, “One date, hm? How about I come over this afternoon and we can talk all about it?”

“This afternoon? That obsessed with me now?” Lavender teased and Harry hummed, eyes dropping to her lips, “Yes, actually. ‘M fucking whipped.” He wrapped an arm around her again, “I’ll come over and spoon you back to sleep. We can nap through the afternoon and…” He leaned in a bit more, “maybe I’ll wake you up with my mouth. Seemed like you enjoyed that.”

Lavender’s cheeks turned pink and she tried to fight it, humming, “I did quite like the way you apologized to me. Very… thorough.”

“Thorough, hm? That’s one way to put it.” Harry played along. He didn’t care who saw as he dipped his head to kiss her pink lips. Lavender didn’t pull back either, a hand delicately being placed on his bicep as he lingered on the touch. She tasted like cherry. His heart skipped ten beats as he nuzzled his nose with hers, “Maybe I’ll fuck up again just so I can apologize.”

“Yeah,” Lavender shrugged, “like hit me with your car this time or something.”

He threw his head back in a laugh, playfully squeezing her ass once, “Get home, you dick. ‘M tired.”

She stuck out her tongue and took a step back, smiling at him, “See you in a bit.”

“I’ll drive behind you.” Harry nodded, opening up his car door, “Bye, Lav.”

“Bye, Harry. Drive safe.” She sent him a small wave with a blinding smile on her face, turning around to head home and spend the rest of the day with Harry.

#wattpad #alisonfelix #writers on tumblr #writing #fanfiction #one direction #1dff #hs #harrystyles #harrystylesfanfiction

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