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#lil and her ridiculous aus
mihrsuri · 5 months
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Cannot stop thinking about how biracial Jon of Conte changes the entire everything about, actually the whole Bazhir Plot. Also possibly the entire direction of Alanna and Jon’s breakup fight. Like:
Jon, who has had to spend so much of his life hiding his Bazhir side, who has had to listen to awful awful comments (about himself, about his mother, about all the stories and food and culture that she was allowed to teach him, if any)
Roger positioning himself as the pure blood alternative ugh.
When he gets to actually go and it’s coming home and it’s not coming home because he’s of this place but he’s also not of (source I’m biracial and really found this/reconnecting with that side of me pretty late) and also feeling how much he doesn’t know. But he still fits here, in ways he hasn’t in Corus.
(I’m half Persian (with some Syrian but) and also Jewish so in my head this is very drawn from Persian/Persian Jewish I mean hi PERSEPOLIS)
Having to listen to remarks from people you like that really hurt.
Jon destroying the Black City as a Bazhir like !!!!! Jon becoming The Voice as a Bazhir, as someone coming home and being welcomed and also struggling with that.
Listen I adore Jon/Thayet but like BIRACIAL + BIRACIAL FEELS.
@captainlordauditor @blue-ink-pearls @eidetictelekinetic
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maskyartist · 2 months
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i KNOW i said i'd draw putt putt branch but i cant control the vibe and the vibe rn is feral clay
he vaguely remembers floyd. vaguely. he knows floyd was...there. at some point when his mind was whole. but he cant see where he'd be. a lot of his past memories were pushed away to make room for survival instinct, so his memories mostly consist of good ones with (Sp)Bruce and the night he left, the argument with JD mostly
floyd's kinda be pushed to the back of his mind, so its like meeting someone new. Clay smells death on him. Decay. But he stands and talks like a living creature.
Floyd confuses Clay. He calls him Pink. He'll remember his name eventually.
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eskawrites · 2 months
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tell me why i'm having late night emotional thoughts about cfdau holly wheeler of all people
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redrobin-detective · 2 years
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lipstick on your cape
“Robbie?” Tabitha looked up from the phone she wasn’t supposed to have on patrol at Nightwing. Hopefully Peg wouldn’t tattle on her to Bruce. “You got a little something on your cape. I think it’s that dark red lipstick they can probably see from the Watchtower.”
Beth examined her cape and, sure enough, there were some mysterious red smudges on the inner yellow lining, just past the right shoulder. She scrubbed at it with her gloves, how’d that even get there? Alfred would have a fit if this stained. Peg grunted as she sat down next to Tab on the edge of the building.
“So, do you wanna talk about it?” Peg asked, deceptively casual.
“About what?” Beth questioned.
“About why you’ve been sporting colored lips the last week,” Peg said softly. “I mean it’s pretty and all but its very,“ she paused. “It’s grownup. Are you trying to impress someone? I know things with you and Arianna are over but maybe someone on your team?”
“No, it’s not like that!” Beth blushed. “I don’t know, I thought it looked nice?”
“You’re 15 baby girl,” Peg said with a little frown. “You don’t need to look nice, you just need to be yourself. Especially as Robin.”
“I am being myself. I don’t have a reason, okay! I just thought it would be fun. I don’t know, I like girly stuff I guess. Its a safety risk to wear fun earrings or necklaces on patrol so, I don’t know, the other day I put on some lipstick and thought it looked cute so I kept doing it.”
Her mother had been a tomboy, more at home in the dirt than society but Tabitha had always been impressed at how she could transform. The nights they were home, when they had to play the part of the Drakes, were special. Mom would do her hair, nails and make-up just so and become someone else. She went from Tab’s flighty, distracted but stubborn mom to a princess. Her smiles were calculated, her posture perfect and she could glide across a ballroom in six inch heels and a sleek dress like she was born for it. And she had been but she’d rejected it for her dad and archeology but mostly archeology.
Tabitha loved computers and skateboards and comics and cars but she’d spent so many hours learning to style her hair in different ways, to paint her nails like a pro and to layer her lipstick like she was ready for murder. It was a side she hadn’t indulged in much lately. Being Robin was it’s own sort of freedom but it had its restrictions as well.
“I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing,” Peg said thoughtfully, leaning back to look up at the moon. “I guess Jan and I set a bit of a precedent huh?” Robins were crime fighters. They laughed at criminals and fought against the worst of the worst. They were efficient, practical and inspiring. They didn’t wear lipstick. Beth brought a glove to cover her mouth.
“Sorry, I guess it’s not really appropriate, is it? I think I have some make up remover wipes in my belt.” Peg grabbed a hold of her wrist.
“No, no, keep it on,” Peg insisted. “It does look nice, you did a good job and it really compliments the red of your suit.” She shifted so they were holding hands. “My mom used to do me up in makeup before shows, so the audience could see our faces. I can still feel her fingertips running over my cheeks.” She said with a soft voice, eyes closed in memory. “Moving in with B, I couldn’t do makeup that extravagant. I had to make a good impression and then, as I got older, I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression from lipstick and eye shadow.” 
“It’s such a burden to be beautiful,” Tabitha said with an eye roll even though it kind of was. She saw the way people ogled Peg at events. Tab had tripped one particularly creepy guy right into the punch bowl. Bruce had given her a thumbs up across the hall.
“You’re not Jan, no one expects you to be,” Peg said softly. “We just want you to be yourself. That’s the beauty of being Robin, you get to be whoever you want to be.”
“And what about B?” Beth questioned.
“You introduced yourself by breaking B’s rules,” Peg said with a grin, breaking the hand hold to ruffle Tab’s hair. She angrily straightened her clip and re-fluffed her bangs. Just because Nightwing just had a simple ponytail doesn’t mean some vigilantes didn’t care about merging style and function. “I think you’ll be fine.”
“Hmm, okay,” Beth said, scooting over to lean on Peggy’s shoulder. She loved her mom, missed her a lot but having a big sister was pretty great too. “You could add a little color to your lips too if you want.”
“I think I’ll pass. I’ve seen the colors you wear, baby bird,” Peg chuckled.
“Well how about your hair?” Tab asked, sitting up. “I could teach you how to do a simple french braid, or more fancy if you’d like. Still be functional but adds a little bit of style.”
“Tomorrow, my place, my hands always cramp after too long using the grapples. I’ll order some of that disgusting pizza you like,” Peg grinned. Tabitha grinned, her lips a dark ruby red under the Gotham moonlight.
Robin didn’t do her make up every night. Some nights she was running late, finishing clipping on her cape as she ran to the Batmobile. Other times she was too tired, too pained, just not in the mood for such frivolities. But other nights, she sculpted her eyebrows with an eyebrow pencil. She rubbed primer, foundation, blush, sealant on her face that could hold up against wind, rain and rogues. She poured over her ever growing collection of lipsticks and lipstains and picked a color that spoke to her.
Red was for when she was feeling daring, bold, she had many different variations of the color but deliberately shied away from Joker red. When Spoiler took to the streets she acquired all sorts of different purples to complement the laughing boy’s costume. Pink was for when she felt soft but strong, when she was making a statement to the worst of Gotham that it couldn’t change her. Black was only to be used on the nights she knew would be bad. Bart got her a glittery gold one that she loved but used sparingly because it caught the light easily. Peg had laughed when when Tab shown up once with Nightwing blue lips, her braided hair dancing in the breeze.
She was Robin, she was a hero, a role model, a symbol. But she was also a girl, a girl who loved dresses that flared out when she spun and lots of shiny, sparkly dangles and doodads and she loved the taste of matte lipstick as she jumped into the fight. Sometimes people were just a pile of different things all mushed together. And the rest of the world was going to just have to get over it.
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btsgotjams27 · 7 months
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the back-up plan | jjk
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summary: one drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.
💖 title: the back-up plan | one-shot 💖 pairing: jungkook x f!reader | 💖 genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?) 💖 rating: SFW | 18+ | 💖 word count: 18.1k | 💖 playlist 💖 warnings: jungkook & reader are both 29, reader is a hopeless romantic (what else is new with my characters?), jungkook is always pining and head over heels in love, jungkook is sweet and in luvrrr but he’s bad at feelings and tells some terrible lies (don’t hate him—ok!!), reader has a skewed view of relationships and what's expected of her, jungkook calls her wifey, hot and seggsy neighbor!namjoon (yes, pls), shirtless namjoon (2x), kissing, hand-holding, some suggestive language, mentions of erotic art and positions, first dates, alcohol consumption, reader has her belly button pierced, talks of tattoos & getting them, mentions of needles, and idk some things may come off as cheesy??? but it's a romance story so idk take what you will, light angst (you should know me by now!!), jungkook gets a lil drunk (pls drink responsibly), jealous jk comes out, love confessions 💖 a/n: the plot is a bit ridiculous, but that's the point! it's fiction (lol), i hope y'all enjoy it for what it is. the idea came from a tweet I saw, but ofc, I can't find it! so thank you to whoever tweeted it! and, happy birthday to the loml, jeon jungkook (this was supposed to be out for his birthday, but my brain said no). i also have to thank holly (@alphabetboyluvr). i respect her so much as a writer and friend, and I was super scared to ask her to even look at my outline, but she's always so sweet and willing. i couldn't have done this without her help, her comments, and suggestions <3 (i'd also recommend listening to the playlist while reading :)) and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts 💖
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sunday.
Another day has passed, and it’s creeping closer to your birthday. They’re supposed to be joyous, celebratory occasions–and you love feeling special, showered with love and gifts. What more could a person want?
But you had a clear goal before hitting the big 3-0: get married–or at least be engaged to be married.
Most girlfriends your age were still having fun, enjoying life, and not ready to settle down. You’re unsure if your upbringing or society’s expectations distorted you, but you were fond of marriage and finding the one to spend your life with.
You also blamed the hopeless romantic in you when you dragged every one of your girlfriends with you to see the new romantic comedy, giggled, and kicked your feet when reading the latest best-selling romance novel.
The thing was, you were so close to getting engaged. You and your boyfriend, Theo, of eight months–well, ex-boyfriend–discussed it openly from the beginning of your relationship. And not even two weeks ago, he broke up with you out of the blue and gave no clear explanation.
You sat in bed debating whether to download your old dating apps again. Your birthday was in six days, and you knew you wouldn’t find a suitable mate before your birthday, but at least you could try, right?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 PM Happy ‘almost 30th’ birthday.
You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:28 PM Are you still crying over Theodore Boner?
You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:29 PM 🤣🤣🤣 You were saved from that one. Imagine having the last name Boner.
You rolled your eyes at the text from Jungkook, throwing your phone beside you as you curled under your duvet.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call
“What do you want, Kook?”
“You gotta admit, ____ Boner sounds awful,” Jungkook laughed as he pushed back in his recliner.
“I’m hanging up!” you threatened, getting ready to push the end button.
"No, no! I'm kidding. You would've made a great Mrs. Boner."
"Bye–Kook."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm done, I promise."
"I had a whole plan. What am I supposed to do now? My birthday is in six days," you groaned, covering your face with the duvet.
"You don't remember our agreement, do you?"
You brought the cover down. Curious about his comment. "What agreement?"
💖💖💖
Before this most recent one, your ex, Jimin, had broken up with you, and you were on the rebound, looking for a good time. Jungkook came to the rescue, saving you from your next mistake. He took you out for drinks, let you drown in your sorrows, and the two of you got pretty drunk. You could only remember bits and pieces of your conversation.
“Let’s get married if we’re still single by 30,” Jungkook suggests.
“You wanna marry me? But I’m such a mess.”
Your dating life, career, friends, and family were fine.
“Yeah, why not. We get along. You seem a little kinky in bed and make a mean spaghetti dish.”
“Is that all I’m good for? Sex and spaghetti?”
“That sounds like a bad porn film waiting to happen. No, but I'm serious. If we're still single, let’s get married.”
You wave him off. “Kook, you’re drunk. You’re just saying whatever.”
“Yeah, I'm drunk, but I'm serious about this.” 
He gets up, looks around, sees a straw wrapper, and ties it around your finger. He's on one knee before you.
“____, will you marry me? Hypothetically, of course, if we’re both still single by 30.”
You shake your head at your loveable friend. It was hard to say no. How could you?
“You’re so dumb.”
“See. You can write that in your vows,” Jungkook jokes, grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, you are pretty cute, and I can stand being around you,” you tease.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
You smack his arm. “Is this how you’re wooing your future wife?”
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can’t believe how beautiful my future wife is.”
You’re unsure if it’s the alcohol making you susceptible and vulnerable to your good friend asking you to marry him or if it was because you were on the rebound. But what’s the harm? If you couldn’t find someone by 30, then you’d get to marry a good friend.
“That's more like it. Why yes, Jeon Jungkook. I will marry you if I'm still single by 30.”
💖💖💖
You let out a cackle. “Oh shit–I agreed to that?”
Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”
But Jungkook’s messing around, right? He was a good friend and comforted you in your time of need. There’s no way he’d want to spend the rest of his life with you. Plenty of suitable women were fawning over him, and now you’ve noticed you've never seen him with a girlfriend.
“You’re–you’re not serious, are you?” You stumble over your words, going into panic mode.
Why would Jeon Jungkook choose you, of all people, to want to marry? He could have anyone at any time.
No, you shook off the thought. You couldn’t lock him into a loveless marriage.
Jungkook licks his lips, tongue flicking his lip ring back and forth.
You shifted in bed and cleared your throat. “Aren’t you seeing that one girl?”
It wasn’t hard to notice when she practically hung onto him like a lovesick puppy.
Jungkook makes a face, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s nothing serious.”
You give him a blank expression. “Nothing serious? Kook, she’s practically foaming at the mouth and shooting heart eyes when you’re around.”
Jungkook chuckles. “That could be you, too.”
You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.
“Just saying,” he adds.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way if it is serious.” You surely didn’t want to become a homewrecker.
He waves his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t back down from promises I make.”
Your lips turn into a pout, and you tilt your head, wondering why he’d ditch Clingy Chloe and commit to a drunken promise. “What’s in it for you?”
He seems offended by your question, so he scoffs. “I mean, I’m just trying to save you from a future where you’re an old lady with 50 cats, collecting newspapers that pile up from the floor to the ceiling, and then you show up on an episode of Hoarders.”
You chuckle. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.
“I mean, marriage is a pretty serious thing, and we’re friends getting married because we have no one else?” The sentiment seems ridiculous once you say it aloud.
“What? You don’t think I'll be a good husband?” 
“No, I didn't say that. I think you’d be a great one, actually.”
“Then, what’s the problem? Don’t think you can handle me?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.
You roll your eyes at your cocky friend. “I don’t know, Kook. What if I meet someone, or what if you meet someone?”
“You don’t think I can make you fall in love with me?” he asks, ignoring your question.
Your nose scrunches, and you laugh. “No.”
“Oh, well, that sounds like a challenge, and you’re lucky I love a little competition.”
He’s not going to let this go, is he?
You settle into the plush of your pillows. “Okay–tell you what, if you can make me fall in love with you within the week, I’ll consider marrying you.”
What would you have to lose? Being wined and dined by a cute guy? What girl would pass up this opportunity?
“Deal.”
💖💖💖
monday.
Your everyday routine consists of rolling out of bed, logging into work, checking your emails, and then sitting on the couch until you get a support ticket from someone who forgot their password for the umpteenth time.
It’s a great gig, and now you’re glad you went into the right field of work.
You’re on your random binge of rewatching The Fast and the Furious saga. Your friends always make fun of you, but you can’t help it. It’s a guilty pleasure of yours.
“You got some sexy legs. When do they open?” Roman says with a grin.
You burst out laughing. The dialogue is so bad, yet somehow, these movies keep getting made. You must be the target audience.
The doorbell rings and it’s 8:30 AM. Who is here this early? You didn’t buy anything online while you were drunk, did you?
You peek through the viewfinder, and it’s blocked by something yellow. You can’t see the delivery person’s face when you open the door.
“Special delivery for ___,” the person says in a deep voice.
“That’s me.”
And out from behind the flowers, Jeon Jungkook pops out. “Happy birthday week,” he says in a sing-song voice.
Your heart settles when you realize it's your friend or future husband. “What are you doing here?”
You notice two grocery bags on the ground next to him. He hands you the flowers and picks them up.
“What do you think I’m doing here?” He raises his eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe.
Real clothes and makeup don’t exist when you're working from home.
“Cute slippers,” he points out as you stare at your fluffy white bunny slippers.
You sigh, grabbing his arm to drag him into your apartment. As you’re about to close the door, you notice moving boxes outside the apartment next to yours. Hmm, someone new must be moving in.
“Is this what you look like underneath all that makeup?” he asks, making himself comfortable in your kitchen. The two bags are on the counter, and he’s going through the cupboards to find a vase.
“Top left above the sink,” you say.
He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting company. Otherwise, I would’ve put on some decent clothing.”
And a bra, you think as you cross your arms, covering your chest.
Jungkook shakes his head. “You look good in anything, and with or without makeup. You’ll be my future wifey, so there’s no need to look for good me. We can just be comfortable with each other, right?”
You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow. He’s serious about this, isn’t he? You suppose you wouldn’t mind playing along to see how far he would go.
A man ready and willing to commit to marriage? You must be living in your romantic film.
You nod. “Right, we’re friends, possibly moving onto more than friends–well, actually, straight to marriage,” you chuckle, "but I’ve always felt comfortable around you, Kook.”
He flashes a warm smile. “Good, then everything will be easy, peasy lemon squeezy.”
He’s cute, you think.
“I hope you like mimosas,” he says as he unloads the groceries from the bags.
Bread, eggs, bacon, strawberries, orange juice, and champagne.
“Are you making me breakfast?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the man in the yellow beanie and white Nike shirt.
“Consider it your birthday breakfast, wifey,” he jokes, peering in your cupboards for a pan.
“Right side next to the oven.”
“Ah, I gotta remember this if I’m gonna be cooking here more often.” He whistles, setting the pan on the stove.
You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t you have to work today?”
“Nah–called in sick. It’s my wife’s birthday week. I have to shower her with all the love.” He wiggles his eyebrows and puckers his lips.
It’s funny to see Jeon Jungkook act this way. He’s always been playful and flirty the two years you’ve known him, but this must’ve been his way of pulling out all his cards of wooing a woman.
💖💖💖
“Breakfast is ready,” Jungkook yells from the kitchen.
A support ticket from work came through, distracting you from your movie and Jungkook.
“‘Kay! Almost done.” You recheck your work emails, ensuring everything is complete.
This time, you put on a bra, change into a decent shirt, and put on a skin tint and blush to make yourself look alive.
You stroll into the kitchen, and Jungkook perfectly displays the sunflowers on the counter and two delicious breakfast plates. The champagne flutes are filled to the brim and topped off with a beautifully sliced strawberry.
“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”
He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”
The two of you sit beside each other, digging into the breakfast spread.
“What’s that one movie you wanted to watch again?” Jungkook asks before he sips his mimosa.
Your mouth is full, and you chew quickly to answer him. “The one on Netflix?” He hums. “Wedding Season.”
“Sounds like the perfect movie for us to watch this week.”
“You’re into rom-coms?”
“I love ‘em.”
“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”
“I don’t know why you never ask me to watch them, but you’ll ask the girls.”
You look down at your food before catching his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d be into them, so I never asked. And you don’t seem like the hopeless romantic type.”
“I mean, growing up, I wasn’t. My parents didn’t have a fairytale romance, so I didn’t believe in love for a long time.”
You raise an eyebrow. “So, someone must’ve changed your mind then?”
He hums, not wanting to admit who made it an exception.
You nudge his arm. “Are you gonna tell me, or will I have to pry it out of you?”
He chuckles, not saying a word.
You scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me? Keeping secrets from your wife already? Rude,” you tut.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.
The two of you finish breakfast, and Jungkook insists on doing the dishes. You set your plate in the sink and clutch onto his arm, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you.”
💖💖💖
tuesday.
You take the morning off to run errands for your upcoming birthday extravaganza. And you’re struggling to hit the lock button on your keypad while holding a heavy box of birthday decor.
When you finally hear the whirring of the lock and chime, you turn around, bumping into someone, dropping your box, and knocking over a handful of books.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, quickly picking up as many books as possible, and he picks up your birthday decor.
The man reaches for the pink heart-shaped sunglasses and other pink-colored decor. “Someone must be celebrating big,” the man’s dimpled smile displayed.
Your fingers accidentally touch his when you switch his books for your decor. You clear your throat, trying not to ogle the man. “Um, yeah, it’s for my birthday.”
He perks up. “Oh?” He flashes a thin smile. “Happy birthday.”
A breath gets caught in your throat, and you struggle to get any words out. “Uh, my birthday is actually on Saturday,” you finally croak out. “But, you must be my new neighbor.”
“Yeah, I’m Namjoon. I just moved in this past weekend.”
Oh, this is bad. Really bad.
He’s tall, has beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair, and you could live in his dimples.
“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”
“Sorry about bumping into you, and it’s nice to meet you too. I hope you have a good birthday,” he says before picking up one last book on the ground.
“Are you doing anything this weekend? You can come if you want.”
After you ask, you want to kick yourself in the bum. Inviting a man you just met. What if he’s a weirdo? But how can he be if he’s reading ‘A Bigger Message Conversations with David Hockney.’ You may have managed to peek at one of his books.
“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding! I’m inviting you, and you can’t say no to the birthday girl,” you tease, adjusting the box in your arms.
A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re right. It’d be messed up to say no to the birthday girl.”
“So, you’ll come?” you ask, and a smile grows from ear to ear.
He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
The two of you exchange information before you leave to finish your errands. You’re beaming down the street while carrying your box of decor.
You didn’t expect to find someone cute and endearing so quickly. And you’re surprised he said yes to your party. Maybe he’s new in town and wants to make friends. It would be a good way for him to get acquainted, and a part of you hoped you’d keep bumping into him in the halls.
💖💖💖
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 AM Wanna do a movie night today? We could watch Wedding Season.
You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:35 AM Is 6 okay? I can bring dinner too.
You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.
It's six on the dot, and you hear a knock on your door. You suppose Jungkook is the type to show up right on time, which you greatly appreciate.
He holds a six-pack of beer and a pizza box when you open the door.
"Ready for movie night?"
It’s halfway through the film, and you’re enjoying it. You love the fake dating trope because you could always count on the two mains to fall for each other.
"Are you cold?" Jungkook asks when he sees you tuck your hands in between your thighs.
"Yeah, kind of."
"Come here."
He opens his arm to cuddle, and you blink expressionless at him. The most intimate thing you’ve done with him is hug him–a side hug.
He laughs when you don’t move. “What? Scared I’ll bite?”
“No—it’s just that cuddling is an intimate thing to do,” you admit.
Arms and legs become entangled. Bodies are warming up against each other. Possibilities of things progressing.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you have a throw blanket somewhere?” He looks around and sees a woven basket next to the couch. He grabs a white fluffy throw for you.
Jungkook gives you an out, and for that, you’re grateful.
“Thanks,” you say as you snuggle in the blanket.
He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”
Even though you rejected Jungkook’s invitation to cuddle, somehow, by the end of the movie, the two of you had fallen asleep—cuddling.
You didn’t pull away from him yet. You peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall. Light snores escape his lips, and now and again, he puffs out a breath like a whale coming up for air, making you chuckle.
You rest your chin on his chest, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this before waking him up.
“Kook,” you whisper, gently shaking him. “Kook,” you repeat.
He hums, popping his head up while his eyes are still closed. He flutters them open and immediately sits up, wiping the drool that’s dried on his chin. He clears his throat. “Um—how long was I asleep for?”
You giggle. “We both fell asleep. I blame the beer,” you say, stretching your arms.
Jungkook can’t help but notice the shiny piece of jewelry hanging from your navel. “You have your belly button pierced?” he asks with a raised brow.
You quickly pull down your shirt. “It was a dumb thing I did when I turned 21.”
“It’s cute.”
You shy away from his comment. At times, you forget you have it.
“What else are you hiding, hm?” Jungkook asks.
You scoff. “Nothing. I only have my ears and my belly button pierced.”
“No tattoos?”
Tattoos are cool on other people, and you toyed with the idea of getting one. You were indecisive about what to get.
You shook your head no. “Maybe one day.”
“Get one for your 30th. I’ll go with you. I know a guy,” he teases, pointing out the ink on his skin.
“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”
He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”
A tattoo, huh? You’ve always wanted to see how high your pain threshold was. “I’ll think about it.”
“Just let me know, and I’ll get an appointment with the guy I always go to. I only trust him.”
Jungkook stands, proceeding to clean up the mess you two made.
“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”
He looks at the clock. It’s nearly midnight, and he still needs to wash up.
You walk him to the door, holding it open for him to leave. “Kook?”
Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”
You’re unsure what comes over you, but you pull him in for a hug. Only this time, it doesn’t feel like a friendly hug. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, then he wraps his arms around you. Every ounce of his body presses against yours, and you fit perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. His fresh, clean scent invades your nose, and you wish it could linger for a bit longer while his hand snakes to the nape of your neck, fingers curling in your hair.
Why do you feel more vulnerable when sleeping next to him now than earlier? Is it because you’re awake and aware of your intentions? The question was, what were your intentions? Did you want this? Did you really want him?
You withdrew from the embrace, bidding him farewell. He gives a small wave before disappearing into the elevator.
As you enter your apartment and shut the door, you repeatedly knocked the back of your head against it, muttering, ‘fuck.’ You were playing along to see how far Jungkook would go before calling it quits, but you failed to see that maybe—just maybe you could be falling too.
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Hoseok’s minding his business, eating his ramen when he sees his roommate walk in. Jungkook looks like he’s floating on cloud nine, beaming from ear to ear. There’s even a hop in his step. He twirls around, daintily sitting beside Hoseok.
Hoseok scans his friend, watching him as he breathes a happy sigh and stares into the distance.
“What’s going on with you?” He raises a brow and narrows his eyes.
Jungkook giggles and scrunches his shoulders. “I just came back from cuddling with ___,” he says as he continues in his reveries.
“Oh, boy. Everyone, can I please have your attention,” Hoseok cups his mouth into a megaphone, “Jeon Jungkook has officially gone off the deep end. He thinks being delulu is the solulu.”
Jungkook glares at his friend and kicks him under the table. “Yah–aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”
Hoseok slurps his noodles. “Of course, I’m rooting for you. You’re my best bud,” he says as he places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he pats Hoseok’s hand. “Now–be an even better friend, and let me raid your closet for ___’s party.”
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Jungkook lies in bed; his bicep flexes when he moves his hand behind his head. He’s watching an array of colors flash across the vastness of his room. The northern lights and stars twirl and sparkle like the movements of butterflies and the ones milling around his stomach for days.
Is this what being in love feels like, he thinks. It’s like he’s living in the romance movies he’s watched. Boy meets girl, boy, and girl fall in love, and they live happily ever after.
This is it. This must be it. His chance to be with you–the one he’s fallen completely head over heels for.
If the Jungkook from four years ago were to see him today, he’d laugh and call him a simp, especially with how he’s at your beck and call.
But the Jungkook, from four years ago, was a cynic. He had no healthy or loving relationships around him until he met you through Hoseok. And, even though you were with someone at the time, he saw how kind and wonderful you were to your friends and could only imagine the kind of love you’d show toward someone special.
There were only a few more days until your party, and he was determined to make each day count.
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wednesday.
Since Monday, Jungkook has surprised you every day with a gift. They were his attempts to make you fall in love with you, along with his random trips to your place. 
Today’s gift was a pair of pink seashell earrings. Jungkook tells you he spent hours making it from clay, then baked them in the oven. You shook your head, wondering how he got an idea like this. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gift.
He texted throughout the day, leaving cute words of encouragement or sending TikToks of funny videos he’d find. Maybe this was his love language, taking the time out of his day to let you know he’s thinking about you.
As your day winds down, you’re scrolling through YouTube, and what catches your eye at 7 p.m.? Dessert videos.
And that’s your worst toxic trait—thinking you can bake. It always looks easy enough. If they can do it, so can you.
That is, until you’re in the kitchen, halfway through a recipe, and notice you’re out of sugar. The grocery store is too far and will close when you get there.
See what happens when you decide to bake? It always goes differently than you want.
You could call Jungkook to see if he has any or walk over to your new neighbor’s place. The latter was plausible since Namjoon was only a few feet away.
You shook off the nerves, flattened your apron, and lightly knocked on Namjoon’s door. You could hear shuffling as he unlocked it.
Your eyes widened, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Namjoon’s half-naked, black shorts hung dangerously low on his waist. His forehead is glistening with sweat.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” you ask while trying to keep your gaze in line with his and not ogling his chiseled body.
Shit—maybe he had company over.
He cards his hand through his platinum blonde hair, but a few pieces fall back, covering his eyes. “No, you’re good. I just finished working out. What’s up?” he asks. His hand holds the door open as he leans against it.
You’re dumbfounded, unable to form words again. It’s like a giant hairball stuck in your throat.
Namjoon’s brows raise, and he calls out to you.
“Oh, sorry!” you say. “I’m attempting to bake a cake but I'm out of sugar. I wanted to ask if you have any I can borrow.”
“I think I do,” he ponders as he steps back. “Come in. Come in.”
You step into a squeaky clean apartment. Didn’t he just move in? How does someone unpack so quickly? Or maybe he had little to begin with.
His apartment was like a museum, with pottery, sculptures, and art prints adorning his walls and shelves. But what catches your attention is the translucent, cylindrical coffee table. It doesn’t seem like anyone should be putting anything on it.
Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.
“Ah, thank you so much! Now my cake batter won’t go to waste.”
“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.
Granted, this man is still half-naked, standing beside you. You’re trying not to go feral over how broad and built he is.
“This, actually,” you point to the glass coffee table.
“That’s probably one of my most prized possessions.”
“It looks expensive.” You’d later come to find out it was worth $1.2M after you did an internet search.
“It is,” he chuckles. “It’s on loan from a friend.”
“On loan?” you ask, turning to him. Your eyes narrow and lips thin. “Can I ask what you do for work?”
“I’m an art curator.”
That makes sense now, considering the expensive and extensive art collection.
“Oh—you’re so fancy,” you tease. “I don’t know shit about art.” You could stand before a painting and feel nothing while looking at it. Maybe you were just going in with the wrong mindset.
Namjoon chuckles. “You can always ask me questions,” he notes before walking away to put on a t-shirt.
You’re a bit disappointed that you can’t ogle him anymore.
“Well, I can’t ask you questions if you don’t take me to a museum,” you flirt, turning toward him.
He grins, showing off his pearly whites and dimple deeply etched into his left cheek. “Are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”
You can’t help but play dumb. “Oh no, of course not! I would like your expertise to guide me around a museum, and if we happen to eat afterward, then I don’t know—would you call that a date?”
Namjoon licks his lips and nods, impressed by your boldness. “Are you busy Friday night?”
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The cake wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. You’d have to keep perfecting it and maybe keep asking to ‘borrow’ some sugar from your neighbor.
You debated whether you should tell Jungkook about your date with Namjoon. It’s a harmless date; Jungkook would be off the hook if it goes well. Besides, it’s a silly agreement you two made up while drunk.
But, you’d sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow. There was one more day before the date anyway.
As you were sitting in bed, doing your nightly scrolling through social media. A video call comes through.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call
You're on your side when you answer his call. “Hey, Kook,” you say before covering a yawn.
“Ready for bed?” he asks, shuffling underneath his duvet.
Your eyes scan the screen, and you notice his bare shoulders and collarbone on display. You never realized his tattooed sleeve reached so high on his arm, scantily kissing the top of his shoulder.
You cleared your throat. "Yeah, about to call it a night. What's up?"
"I just wanted to call and see how your day was. I was busy at work, so I didn't get to text you," he says.
Now that you think about it, the last text you received from him was this morning. And since the start of your little agreement, Jungkook has been texting and calling more than usual.
"I worked, then attempted to bake a cake."
He props the phone against something as he lies on his side, and parts of his hair still look damp from a shower. And you hate how cuddly he looks while he’s in bed and how you can see how much he works out just from the outline of his arms.
And no—you aren’t thinking about anything else. 
"How'd it turn out?"
You shook your head in disgust. "Not very good."
"Ah, I'm sure it was great."
"I'll stick to store-bought cake for now."
"Next time, we can do it together and fail."
He wants to do everything with you, huh?
You chuckle at his comment and then say what’s on your mind, "I never realized how far your tattoo sleeve went up."
He peers at his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he leans forward to show you, his bicep flexing as he moves.
"Cool guy."
He chuckles. "Hardly cool. Just bored," he says. "So, should I schedule you for your tattoo?"
Since the last conversation, you've been scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram to get some ideas.
"I think I want the birth flower for September."
Jungkook shows you his arm, pointing to his tiger lily tattoo. "This one is for the actual day of birth, but the flower for the month of September is pretty too. Have you thought about placement?"
"Mm, maybe on the back of my neck or the inside of my arm. What do you think?" You show him your arm, then the back of your neck.
"It would look great on the back of your neck. It could be a nice surprise when you have your hair up."
"Oh–I like that idea."
He props himself up on the side with a wide grin. "So, I'm booking your appointment?"
You chuckle. "Yeah, why not? We only live once, right?"
Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.
“Once you get one, you’ll want more. Trust me.”
“At least I’ll have a tattoo buddy for life,” you tease.
“Ah, see, I like the way you’re thinking. Well, I should let my wifey get to sleep,” he gives a small smile. He reaches for his phone, placing it on his chest. His other hand is behind his head as he watches you through the screen.
You hum in agreement. “Night.”
“Night.”
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Daydreams are one thing, and when Jungkook lies in bed, he can't help but wonder.
Wonder how you’d look in his favorite t-shirt. Wonder which side of the bed you prefer. Wonder if you dream of him, too. Wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.
Jungkook doesn’t want to wonder anymore; he wants to make you his reality.
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thursday.
The birthday festivities started early for you as you requested today and tomorrow off. There’s no way you’re spending your last few days of being 29 stuck at work.
Today’s agenda consisted of a pedicure. The toes have to look cute with your new heels, and as you’re ready to head out to your appointment, Jungkook is at your door when you open it.
You tilt your head, knitting your eyebrows together. “Did we have something planned?”
He shakes his head no and pouts. “No, I wanted to surprise you with another gift.”
He hands you a gift bag, and you take a small peek, reaching down to grab the gift. You pull out a peach-shaped heart bath bomb.
“Peach?” You raise a brow and give a smug grin. “What makes you think I like peach?”
Jungkook snorts. “Oh, pfft–I don’t know. Could it be all the candles or soap? Or how you always order any type of peach-flavored alcohol? Tea? Or–”
You suck in your lips, then give a thin smile. “Son of a peach.”
“Very cute. You’re also great at fruit puns. I’ll add that to the list of reasons why I like you,” he chuckles.
To be fair, everything in your apartment had a hint of peach–your candles, air freshener, hand soap, ChapStick, and not to mention a cupboard full of peach tea.
You chuckle. “Thanks, Kook. You didn’t have to.”
“I do if I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”
You set the bath bomb back in its bag, then on the entryway table. You close the door behind you, forcing him to step back.
“You talk a lot about making me fall in love with you, but you’ve still failed to do so. It’s almost my birthday,” you tease.
What girl wouldn’t want gifts, but you thought he’d push a bit harder.
Jungkook smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He steps closer to you–close enough for you to smell his cologne. It’s a fresh, clean scent.
He’s inches away from you. Warmth is radiating off of him. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. Your eyes are on his, then focus on his lip ring, then the freckle underneath his bottom lip. It’s the first time you’ve been close enough to notice it.
His eyes dart back and forth between yours. His tongue wets his lips, then plays with his ring. “I’m just getting started,” he says.
You close your eyes, fluttering them back open. There’s relief escaping your body once he backs away.
“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, stepping out of the way to let you lead.
“I have a pedicure appointment. Wanna come?” you ask. You wouldn’t mind having company around, and you’re curious how he’ll continue to sweep you off your feet.
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You feel bad for the poor woman who has Jungkook in her seat, and you’re trying your best not to laugh as he’s squirming, clutching onto the armrests.
You clear your throat. “Is this your first pedicure?”
“What? No,” he counters, but he’s giggling non-stop, holding on for dear life.
“Sir–I need you to stop moving,” the woman warns.
You cover your mouth. Your shoulders are bouncing due to your giggles. “Kook, she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.”
“How the hell do women do this? This is torture.”
“Can’t handle a little torture?”
He perks up, shaking off the chills. The woman continues to scrub his feet with a pumice stone. He’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh and smile when she gets to the underside of his foot. Then his reflexes get the best of him, and he almost kicks her.
The woman gives him a blank expression but is professional and continues as fast as possible.
An hour later, Jungkook is coming out of the nail salon, sweating bullets from the endless torture of a pedicure.
You look at him and then his toes. “At least your toes are cute.” He let you choose the color, and you had to choose hot pink to match your birthday theme for this weekend.
He does the walk of shame in a pair of yellow flimsy flip-flops because he wasn’t prepared for a pedicure. You’ve been there, done that.
You link your arms to him when you catch up to him. “Hungry?”
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Jungkook groans in delight. “You have to try this.”
He leans forward. A piece of his roasted chicken ravioli covered in pink sauce looks delectable. You open your mouth, devouring the pasta. You close your eyes, savoring it.
“See, what did I tell you?” He smiles, going back to his bowl of food. “How’s yours?”
You didn’t want to say you didn’t like it–but you hate it. “It’s good,” you smile and lie through your teeth.
You begin moving the ravioli around, pretending to make it look like you'll eat it.
Jungkook sets his fork down, pushing his bowl toward you. “Here, take mine.”
You look up at him. “What? No–I like my food,” you lie again, grabbing your bowl and clutching it closer to you.
He deadpans. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t like something. Come on, I’ll finish your food, and you can have mine.”
You let go of your bowl. “Are you sure?”
Jungkook smiles warmly, his small dimple on display as he nods. He grabs your bowl and begins to eat it.
Your heart softens, and you’re enchanted by your friend/potential future husband, so it pains you to have this conversation. You tossed and turned the night before because you couldn’t bear the thought of locking your friend into something he'll regret later on.
“So, you might not have to marry me,” you say.
Jungkook looks up at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Damn, someone beat me to it?” he jokes.
You flash a thin smile and shake your head no. “Well, I have a crush on my new neighbor.”
He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”
You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”
Jungkook nibbles on the inside of his mouth then continues to eat. “You barely know the guy, and you’re already tossing me aside?” He tuts, shaking his head.
“I’m–I’m not tossing you aside. You’re still an option, but I’m just saying if it works out with the new neighbor, then you’re off the hook. I'm sure there are better girls out there than me, Kook. You don’t want to be married to me.”
He sets his fork down, pushing his bowl forward. “Well, what can I say? You can’t see the guy?”
“So, you’re okay if I see him?”
Jungkook hesitates to answer. “Mm,” he hums with a nod.
“Are you upset with me?”
“Why would I be upset?” He shrugs. “I’m only a back-up.”
His answer gives you a sense of relief, but you also feel guilty about everything. “Should we end our little deal? That way, you don’t have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. It seems silly now that we’re both sober and not drunk making promises like this.”
He hums and nods again. “You’re right. It does seem foolish.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I'll go pay while you finish up."
You watch him get up and walk to the register. His demeanor changes as soon as you mention ending the deal. 
Is he serious about this?
Honestly, you’re stumped by Jeon Jungkook and his intentions. If he did like you, why not ask you out like an average person? Why go through the trouble of marrying you? So that you could fulfill some silly goal you had for your life?
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“I’ll walk you up,” Jungkook says as he turns off the car.
“It’s fine, Kook. You don’t have to,” you counter.
On the ride back, guilt has been eating you from the inside out. You’re unsure why you feel this way–maybe because you feel like a shitty friend. Saying one thing and then doing another.
But again, marriage is a serious thing for two people to consider.
Jungkook doesn’t waver in his decision and escorts you anyway. The silence is deafening in the elevator; the two of you stand at opposite sides, stealing glances. There’s an elephant in the room, but neither of you addresses it.
When the elevator doors open, you expel the caught breath in your throat. Jungkook follows a few steps behind you.
“Are we okay?” you ask, glancing at him before lowering your head.
He stuffs his hand in his pants pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. I feel like an ass because you’ve been such a good friend–especially after my breakups. And then this past week, you’ve been sweet and cute with all the little gifts and hangouts,” you pause to look at him.
His eyes are big and innocent, and his lips form a slight pout. He’s intently listening to your words.
“I’m trying to say I’ve enjoyed being with you this week, and I’m sorry how things turned out,” you manage to spit out.
Jungkook nibbles on his lip, showing off his pretty dimple. His eyes dart to yours as he flashes a thin smile. “Well, I’ll always be your back-up if this guy doesn’t work out.”
You breathe a sigh of relief that he can still joke about this situation. You close the distance between you, reaching up and draping your arms around his neck.
It takes a moment for him to return your hug, but he does–wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. He nuzzles in the crook of your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent and softness.
Your heart’s fluttering, your stomach is somersaulting and doing back-flips. Jungkook’s warmth is all-encompassing, encapsulating every fiber of your being. Neither of you let go, allowing this embrace to go longer than usual friends do.
When you pull away, your lips are so close to his. Close enough to explore what they taste like. Close enough to see how plush they are. Close enough to find out just how much you’d have to gasp for air afterward.
You almost want to give in. You almost want to see where this could go. You almost want him to make a move.
Jungkook whispers your name, and you hum, gazing into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? About the deal? You don’t want it anymore?”
You're becoming lost in the stars and galaxies contained in those doe eyes. Jungkook doesn’t lose focus, doesn’t break character, and doesn’t give you a chance to run away.
“This stops when you say so,” he utters softly.
He’s unrelenting, you think. He wants this, doesn’t he? He wants you.
So these next few words sting. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
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Jungkook doesn’t even realize when he’s outside his apartment complex. He sits in his car, zoning out. He’s so close to finally getting you, but now there’s someone else?
For two years, he’s been trying to buck up the courage and finally ask you out, and when he finally gets an opportunity, someone always swoops in and steals you away.
When he proposed the agreement, it was more of a joke, that is, until you agreed, and that’s when he knew he’d try whatever it took to get you to the altar.
A knock on Jungkook’s window breaks him from deep thought. He looks up to see his roommate, Hoseok.
He gestures for Jungkook to roll his window down. “Why do you look like you're on the verge of crying? Why don’t you go up to the apartment?”
Jungkook holds onto the steering wheel and groans as his head hits it a few times, muttering, ‘Stupid.’
Hoseok knits his eyebrows in confusion as he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, opening the car door.
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Jungkook drags his feet through the threshold and drops his backpack on the floor. He continues walking sluggishly, plopping on the couch, still in a daze.
Hoseok blinks at his friend. “What’s going on?”
“You know how I was trying to make ____ fall in love with me this week?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”
Hoseok’s eyes widened. “There's a new guy already? I swear this girl must have some kind of bat signal that’s beaming up into the sky that attracts men the second she’s single.”
Jungkook drops his head back, then rubs his face. “What am I going to do?”
Hoseok shrugs. “Maybe tell her how serious you are about being with her.”
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want to be with me?”
“So, you’re going to trap her in a marriage instead?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Make it make sense, my friend.”
Maybe that's what he wanted. It could be like an arranged marriage. Meet first, then fall in love.
“I know it sounds ridiculous!”
Hoseok rubs Jungkook’s shoulder. “This whole deal is ridiculous. Be honest with her, then she’ll have to choose between you and the new guy.”
He knows Hoseok is right. He should be honest and tell you how he feels.
Or he could get rid of the new guy, and the deal would be back on.
Decisions. Decisions.
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friday.
Jungkook was determined to make this agreement work out in his favor. He wasn’t going to back down so easily.
He took off early from work, going straight to your favorite bakery to grab a cake. Thoughts are racing through his mind as he clutches the cake box and walks through the crowded street.
What if this was his last chance? What if this new guy was ‘the one’ for you? He couldn’t let you slip away again.
He’s even prepared a monologue. He’s mumbling it under his breath when he arrives at your door.
When the door opens, he doesn’t find you. Instead, he finds a half-naked man with broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.
Jungkook stands tall and puffs out his chest, back straight, when he sees this unknown man. His mouth is agape as he scans him from head to toe. Was this the guy you were talking about?
He clears his throat and stands his ground. “Oh, uh, who are you?”
“Hey, man. I’m Namjoon. ___’s neighbor,” he says.
“I’ll be right out!” you yell from the other room.
Jungkook clenches his jaw, and he’s trying to calm his nerves. There’s no way you were sleeping with this guy already, right? No, you can’t be, Jungkook shakes the thought from his head.
You sprint from the hallway, holding a shirt. With your clumsy ways, you spilled iced coffee on Namjoon’s shirt right before your date. You felt bad, so you offered to wash it for him.
“Namjoon, I’m so sorry! I’ve tried everything to get it out. I might have to buy you a new shirt–oh,” you gasp. “Hi, Jungkook.”
Jungkook walks in, setting the box down, and he doesn’t say anything else as he leans against the counter, watching you two.
Namjoon sucks in his lips, strolling to your side, looking at his stained shirt. “Don’t worry about it. It was time to get rid of that shirt anyway.” He gives a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna grab a new shirt, then we’ll be on our way?”
You hum. “See you soon.”
Jungkook’s eyes follow you and Namjoon as you bid him farewell. You lower your head and purse your lips when you approach Jungkook.
“Date night?” he asks, turning to you.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Just wanted to drop off a cake I picked up for you,” he points to the box on the counter.
You see the bakery's name on the box, and it’s from your favorite place. You undo the tabs and unfold the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake with various shades of baby pink and blue, then sitting prettily on top is one of your favorite Sanrio characters: Cinnamoroll.
“Kook–you didn’t just pick this up.” A cake like this was ordered well in advance.
His eyebrows rise, and he gives a half-smile. He walks beside you. “Happy early birthday,” he says as his eyes flick to yours. “See you tomorrow.”
When the door shuts, you wince.
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Namjoon has a brilliant mind, and that intimidates you. He's far too intelligent and reasonable for a hopeless romantic who lives in their daydreams and wants a ring on their finger by tomorrow.
The two of you come to a crowded spot in the museum. You look back and smile at Namjoon. He puts his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind. Your stomach somersaults from the affection, but you continue leading the way through the sea of people, trying not to focus on it.
An announcement reminds museum go-ers that they’ll be closing in 15 minutes.
“Should we head out soon?” you ask with disappointment. You thoroughly enjoyed hearing Namjoon talk even though you had nothing insightful to say about the numerous art pieces.
The corners of his mouth curve up. “But we have one more exhibit to see,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He holds out his hand for yours.
You’re intrigued, so you don’t question and place your hand in his.
Everyone starts to file out toward the exit, but the two of you enter an exhibit hidden away in the back.
“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?” you ask.
He chuckles. “You’re cute,” he says before showing you his work ID and security badge.
“Oh,” you giggle. It makes sense. Namjoon did say he was an ‘art curator.’ He just never mentioned where he worked.
“Feel free to look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”
You take your time, roaming around, going from piece to piece. Namjoon stays in place, waiting until you’ve found something. You tilt your head, examining the drawing.
[ frida castelli, milan ]
It's a woman. Her back is bare, and she's curling her hands into the bedsheets. The drawing is cut off right at the small of her back, and one can assume the rest. It's erotic–as this exhibit displays various works from modern artists.
Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”
Horny, you think, but considering this is your first date. You probably shouldn’t blurt it out.
“I like the position she's in,” you say, and Namjoon chokes on nothing. You cover your mouth and can’t help but laugh.
“I like that position too,” he adds.
You try to suppress your smile because now, you’re thinking about the two of you in that position.
"Should we keep looking?"
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After a late-night dinner, you’re standing outside your door, not wanting to say goodbye to Namjoon. You’d invite him in, but tomorrow’s a big day, and you have an early wake-up call.
“I hope I was able to answer your questions,” Namjoon says, leaning his shoulder against the door, facing you.
You give him a small smile, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I think you answered everything."
He hums and parts his lips. "Well, I have one question for you, if that's okay."
You nod.
"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"
You lick your lips. "It's not my birthday yet."
Namjoon steps forward, scanning your face. "You can consider it an early birthday present."
"Well, I won't say no to a birthday present."
Your heart is swooning over this tall, handsome man. He’s perfect. He's brilliant and well-spoken. Someone secure and confident, even emotionally available. You’d be a fool not to want this to go further.
Your gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his lips, unsure how to respond. You've been wondering what they taste like all night and want to kiss the freckle underneath his lip. They look so rosy and pillowy, almost like kissing a cloud.
He softly presses his lips against yours. His big hands cup your face. His nose brushes against your cheek. His lips encapture your top lip, then your bottom. He lingers briefly before pulling away, his lips ghosting over yours, and you want to return for more–you’re not done.
“Do that again,” you whisper.
His breath is warm, and he smiles before going back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands are placed on his taut chest, fingers curling and tugging on his shirt. The butterflies in your stomach are yearning for a way out. The desire in you grows deeper. You’re breathless at this point, but you don’t care if you never breathe again.
First kisses always make you go weak in the knees, and you wish you could experience them over and over.
“Your lips are stained,” you notice when you pull away. 
Namjoon chuckles; his thumb swipes at his bottom lip. “That’s okay.”
He moves in to kiss you again, but you stop him by putting your index finger to his lips. “The birthday girl should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
You render him speechless—he made the first move, but you’ll have the final say.
You bid goodbye to him, trying your best not to linger and give in to your urges. Peering through the viewfinder, you see him smiling and shaking his head before he closes the door to his place.
You’re grinning from ear to ear as your back is against the door. The date couldn’t have gone better–though you probably couldn’t write a dissertation on Modern Art in Korea, you appreciated that he took the time to explain what he loves and why he’s so passionate about it.
Maybe he could be the one.
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It’s midnight when you’re under the covers and still glowing from your date with Namjoon.
You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:22 PM Hey! I found some cool birth flowers. Do you like any of these? [ 5 images attached ]
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:27 PM And my tattoo guy had a last-minute cancellation for Monday at 6 p.m. I’m gonna book you for it, okay?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 10:05 PM I can go to hold your hand if you’d like.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:11 PM I hope you had a good day. See you tomorrow, birthday girl.
This differed from how you wanted to celebrate your birthday week, especially not how you envisioned your friendship with Jungkook. Did you ruin it?
And that’s when your heart aches as you reflect on this past week. Jungkook has been so sweet, and you feel like the worst friend. Could he be into you, and you’re blind to notice?
But what about Namjoon? He’s undoubtedly checked off all the boxes you could want in a partner.
Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.
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saturday.
The sun is peeking through, and the birds are chirping away. You’ve slept through your alarm because you’re still in dreamland.
You’re unsure who’s in bed with you. All you hear is a groan and shuffling as they reposition themselves. You peer over your shoulder, quickly turning away when they pull themselves closer to you. Then, as an arm comes into view, draping over you, you recognize the inked skin.
It’s Jungkook.
A buzz from your phone and a bang at the door awakens you. Missed notifications of calls and texts from Jenn, your best friend, flood your screen.
You sprint to the door, unlocking and opening it for her.
“Jesus Christ—I thought you were dead,” Jenn says after she brushes past you, setting several bags on your kitchen counter.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, babe,” she blinks, giving you the once-over. “You haven’t showered, have you?”
You shake your head no.
“Well, go! It’s your birthday, but we can’t wait all day for you.” She shoos you off to the bathroom.
When you’re out of the shower, Jenn’s sitting in front of your vanity, putting on her blush.
“So, how are you doing, babe? Still not over Theodore Boner?”
“Bonner,” you correct her.
You adjust your towel, tucking it securely. “There’s been some new developments,” you say, walking to your dresser.
Jenn slowly turns around. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with him? He was a walking red flag. Well, at the end of your relationship anyway.”
You press your lips together, shaking your head. “You know that time I was upset about my break-up with Jimin?”
Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.
“Jungkook and I went out and got pretty drunk.”
She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”
You cleared your throat. “I may have agreed that if Jungkook and I were still single by 30, we’d get married.” You turned around, opening the top drawer in search of cute underwear.
Jenn’s jaw drops. “You’re not going to marry Jeon Jungkook, are you?”
You laugh it off. “No, of course not! But he’s always been there for me after my break-ups.”
“Oh, how convenient that he also happens to be single by your 30th birthday,” she says dryly.
“Jungkook’s been a good friend, and if we were to get married, and that’s a big if, then honestly, I think we’d be pretty good together,” you explain.
You're not sure if you're attempting to persuade Jenn or yourself. You’re not going to lie. You’ve toyed with the idea this whole week.
“Why don’t you just date Jungkook then?” she asks, returning to add more blush to her cheeks.
You nibble on your bottom lip. “Err–well, because there’s a new guy.”
She whips her head back around. “I go on a solo trip, and you have not one but two guys who want to be with you?”
“Technically, I told Jungkook that if things work out with me and Namjoon, he doesn’t have to marry me.”
“Namjoon?”
“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”
“Shut up! Your neighbor?” Jenn stands, sprinting out your bedroom door. “Which apartment? I need to see this man.”
“Jenn!” You run after her, clutching her arm, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, will you? He’ll be at the party tonight.”
Jenn turns to you. “Babe–you have Jungkook and new neighbor guy vying for your attention? Sheesh. When can I be the main character?”
You grip your towel and drag her back to your room.
“At least tell me more juicy details,” she whines.
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Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror. Hot pink usually is not part of his wardrobe color, but he does it in a heartbeat if it involves you and your silly antics.
He slips the hot pink denim jacket over his white shirt and matching pink cargo trousers. He adds a neon green necklace to finish off his look.
This outfit is Ken-esque, right? He sighs, wishing you could be the Barbie to his Ken.
His roommate, Hoseok, knocks on his door, breaking his focus. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
Jungkook nibbles the inside of his cheek. This week’s been a rollercoaster of emotions for him. He was at an all-time high before you broke the news that you no longer need a back-up.
He’s gone back and forth, debating whether to fight for you or give up.
"I don't know yet," Jungkook responds. He glances at Hoseok through the mirror's reflection.
“Tell her how you feel. Be honest with her,” Hoseok says. He’s been telling Jungkook for two years now.
Jungkook turns around. “I can’t–” he pauses and huffs a breath, taking a seat on the bed.
Hoseok narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans against the door frame. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve done too much shit by breaking up her relationships. She’ll never forgive me,” Jungkook explains.
Hoseok choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Remember Jimin and Theo?”
Hoseok hums.
Jungkook clears his throat. “I may or may not have told some harmless lies that ended up in them breaking up with her.”
Hoseok huffs out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell her right off the bat that you wanted to date her.”
“I’m an idiot, that’s why, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t want me. She wants the neighbor guy.”
Hoseok sits by his friend. “It’s either now or never. You can’t keep breaking up her relationships because you’re too scared to be in a real one with her. You don’t want to start it off that way.”
Jungkook flings himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know! I’ve just never done this before. I don’t know how to act. She’s the first person I’ve had actual feelings for.”
Hoseok blinks at his friend, ready to say something, but Jungkook interrupts him. “Don’t say shit about that–many people don’t meet the right person until later in life.”
He holds his hands up in defeat. “There’s no judgment from me, my friend. Just consider my words before anyone gets hurt.”
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You swipe the lip tint across your bottom lip and repeat with the top. Glancing in the mirror, you adjust your dusty rose dress and tie your matching ribbon in your hair.
The theme for tonight's party is Barbie core, and individuals are encouraged to wear any shade of pink. You’re ridiculous, but you only turn 30 once–why not go all out?
Buckets of bubbly are filled with rosé bottles and floral ice cubes. Barbie-esque props, including heart-shaped sunglasses and cut-out foam lips, are ready to be used at the photo booth. You’ve spent too much time on Pinterest planning the perfect celebration.
It’s ten to seven and still too early for people to show, so you order a Malibu Barbie cocktail at the bar. Jin, the bartender, even tops off your drink with pink sanding sugar for this special occasion and throws in a little peach schnapps.
“There’s the birthday girl.”
When you turn around, you see Jungkook in a bright pink attire. Not every day you see him dressed in anything other than black or white, so you consider this a rare treat.
He offers you a warm hug, and you both act as if nothing has changed. It’s not like you’ve seen him every day as he’s dropped off gifts for you, or he willingly watched a rom-com and definitely hadn’t cuddled.
It’s like you’ve gone back to being just friends.
As you withdraw, you give him the once-over. “You look great in hot pink. I wish I got to see your matching toes.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t think sandals would go with this outfit.”
You shake your head no.
“You look amazing,” he adds, taking your hand and making you twirl for him.
“Thanks, Kook,” you grin. Your hand lingers in his as he delicately caresses your skin. The back of your neck is warming up, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake breaking off your deal.
“Ah, there’s our Barbie girl!” Jenn exclaims as she approaches you. Immediately, you let go of Jungkook’s hand.
“Hey!” you answer, rubbing the back of your neck. “What’s up? Did you need something?”
Jenn raises her brow at you and Jungkook. “I did, but you’re busy with Ken, so I’ll ask Hoseok to help me. Enjoy your night, babe.”
You take your drink and dash off with Jenn, telling Jungkook you’ll see him later. As you stroll behind her, you loop your arm around hers.
“Are you okay?” Jenn narrows her eyes, suppressing a smile.
You clear your throat. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It looks like you and loverboy were having a moment there before I interrupted,” she says, setting down the flower vase on the dessert table.
“He’s not my loverboy. I’m gonna start seeing Namjoon, remember?”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Look–all I’m saying is you should give Jungkook a chance. Anyone could tell he’s head over heels in love with you.”
You choke on your drink. “What? How come no one’s ever told me?”
Jenn laughs. “I never put two and two together until you mentioned your little agreement with him this morning,” she pauses, cupping your face. “And my sweet, innocent Barbie girl, he shoots heart eyes whenever you’re around.” She holds your chin, turning you in Jungkook’s direction.
Jungkook is leaning on the bar, attempting to find the perfect stance to appear cool, but he has no idea what to do with himself. He peers in your direction, catching your gaze, and quickly turns away, waving down the bartender.
She continues, “You’ve been with so many knockoff Kens that you were blind to the real one. He’s a bit of a goofball, but he seems sweet, and like you mentioned today, he’s always around when you’re in need.”
What if your decision was a mistake? Would it be too late to change your mind? You were sure Jungkook had already moved on after being rejected.
You watch while Jungkook drinks something–you figure it's vodka. A shot for yourself seems enticing, simply to settle your anxieties.
Your birthday is supposed to be filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, not you being torn between two great guys.
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The party is in full swing–the music’s blaring, friends laughing, chattering, drinking away. Everyone has arrived except for the one person you've been looking for: Namjoon.
You giggle when you scan the room and see Hoseok and Jungkook dancing in the corner. When your eyes catch him, he gestures for you to come dance, but you haven’t had enough alcohol to make a fool of yourself.
He sprints to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. “You need a drink before you dance, huh?”
Your lips thin, and you think, how does he know you so well? 
You nod and follow him from behind. You stare blankly as his hands are loosely intertwined with yours. He’s leading you through the crowd, letting go once you’re at the bar’s counter.
“Do you still want that pink drink thingy you had earlier?”
“Surprise me,” you say.
“Two Pink Cadillacs, please,” he says to Jin.
As Jin gets to work on your drinks, Jungkook makes small talk to kill time.
“Are you having fun?” he asks, standing before you. He sways to the song's beat, grinning from ear to ear.
You’d have more fun if you weren’t thinking about him and Namjoon all night. Considering that Namjoon hasn’t even shown up yet, you appreciate that Jungkook’s a sweet and caring friend.
“I’ll be having more fun once I have this drink,” you say over the music.
“You’re not having fun with me?” he jokes, holding out his hand for yours, and of course, you take it.
He draws you to him, makes you twirl around, and then dips you. A slight squeal escapes your lips when you come back up.
Jungkook chuckles. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“No, I’m–I’m having a good time,” you answer his previous question.
“Are you sure? It looks like something’s on your mind,” Jungkook notes. "You can always talk to me, you know."
Even after breaking off your agreement, he's still willing to be a good friend to you. How'd you get so lucky with someone like him?
"I know," you smile, draping your arms around his neck.
"Two Pink Cadillacs."
You break away from him, grabbing your drink. The two of you sip on them, watching the crowd.
"Jungkook, one. Hot sexy neighbor, zero," Jenn whispers in your ear before walking away.
You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at her. It’s been an hour, and Namjoon is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe something came up. Things happen. You get it.
"What's going on with Jenn?" he asks.
"Nothing," you reply as you move to stand before him. "You know how she is."
Jungkook takes another sip of his drink. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”
Your eyes widen and flick to him. Have you been obvious about what’s on your mind?
“Yeah, of course–” you say before a hand slides on the small of your back. You turn to see the man who’s been MIA, Namjoon.
“Hey, birthday girl. I’m sorry I’m late! It was a lot harder to find a pink outfit than I thought,” Namjoon chuckles, then he sees that he may have interrupted something. “Oh–hey, man! Jungkook, right?”
Jungkook gives a small smile, and you mouth, ‘Sorry.’
“Can I steal you away for a second?” Namjoon asks, and you oblige.
Namjoon takes your hand, ready to drag you off, but you stop and return to Jungkook. “Can we talk later?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your birthday. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jungkook looks on as you and Namjoon disappear. You laugh when he says something, and Jungkook can hear it–you always let out a tiny squeak, your shoulders bounce, and you cover up your mouth because you don't like how your teeth show when you laugh.
He rubs the back of his neck. He’ll have to find time to talk to you later.
Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”
Jungkook sips his drink and inhales sharply. “Her neighbor.”
“They look pretty cozy to me,” Hoseok remarks. “Go say something before it’s too late.”
It’s already too late, Jungkook thinks. He’s lost you again. What’s the point if he tried with you and you didn’t want him?
He chugs the drink and orders another round for him and Hoseok. He might as well enjoy the booze while he can–at least it would get you off his mind.
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Jungkook's vision is blurred, speech slurred. Even though he sees double, his gaze is still fixed on you and Namjoon, following you wherever you go: the photo booth, the bar, the dance floor. Namjoon’s hands haven’t left you, whether holding your hand or soft touches on the small of your back.
It should be him, he thinks, but he’s been turned down before. He couldn't imagine being rejected twice.
He leans on a high-top table, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it. A few of your friends drag you off to the photo booth for the umpteenth time tonight, and Namjoon is left waiting for you.
Jungkook waits and observes Namjoon, wondering why you’d choose Namjoon over him. He thinks he could take the guy in the boxing ring. He’s too big and sluggish to move as fast as Jungkook. Indeed, he could knock Namjoon out with his right hook. But if it’s not a physical thing you’re looking for, then it’s an intellectual thing.
He shakes off the self-deprecating thoughts. Why doesn’t he go over and chat the guy up? Get to know him. It won’t hurt to find out what kind of guy he is.
There's a queue of friends waiting to take individual shots with you, and you look over to check whether Namjoon is all right. You notice Jungkook approaching and breathe a sigh of comfort, knowing he'll keep Namjoon company.
Jungkook stands up tall when he’s beside Namjoon. “Lavish party, huh?”
Namjoon turns to him and chuckles. “Yeah, she went all out for her 30th.” He cracks his neck and adjusts his bright pink blazer.
“Since you’ll be around, you should get used to it. ___ throws parties like this all the time.”
“She does?” Namjoon’s eyes widened with concern.
Jungkook pouts and nods. “You think this is bad? Last year, she rented a private island, and everyone who attended had to buy a plane ticket to her party.”
Namjoon gulps.
“Man–and now that you guys are together. I'm wishing nothing but the best for you," Jungkook shakes his head. "The last guy was going through it.”
“Last guy? What happened to the last guy?”
Jungkook glances in your direction, then back to Namjoon. “Oh, you guys haven’t had that conversation yet?”
“What conversation?”
“Let’s just say there was a restraining order involved.”
There’s a look of relief on Namjoon’s face. “Man, that guy must’ve been a psycho.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “Oh no, no, no. The restraining order was against her!”
Namjoon shifts his position, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. Once, she took a bat to a neighbor’s car, thinking it was her boyfriend’s. Mind you, she was pretty drunk—and it was dark, but when she has an idea that you’re cheating on her, all hell breaks loose,” Jungkook tuts.
“Oh.”
Jungkook chuckles. “And don’t even get me started on her obsession with that one K-pop group, Seventeen. She practically has a shrine in her bedroom. Mingyu’s face is plastered on every square inch of her walls, and when they finally came on tour, she drained so much of her savings flying everywhere to see them—front row, I might add.”
Namjoon clears his throat. “I think I need a drink,” he says.
“But don’t worry, man, you’ll be fine!” Jungkook shouts as Namjoon walks away.
He lowers his head and rubs his face. He blames the alcohol for his stupidity. His string of lies is why you would never want to be with him.
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Although Jungkook has spewed many lies to Namjoon, it doesn’t scare him off. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. And when he sees Namjoon jet off somewhere, Jungkook swoops in, hoping he’ll have a chance to talk to you before it’s too late.
“Hey!” Jungkook says out of breath. “Going home?”
“Yeah,” you beam a warm smile. “I’m pretty wiped.”
“I can take you home, and then maybe we can talk?”
You nod. “Mm, that sounds like a plan.”
You’ve always found it easy to talk to Jungkook. Even though he claims not to be good at chitchatting, he knows how to make you smile and laugh.
“Did you see Hoseok and Jenn trying to undress each other?” Jungkook chuckles.
“Jenn claims she thought Hoseok was a Ken doll,” you giggle. “I don’t know why they keep skirting around each other. They should date already.”
You two arrive outside your apartment. You unlock the keypad, leaving the door open. Turning back, you see Jungkook standing there. “Are you gonna come in or talk to me from out there?” you ask, shaking your head.
Jungkook walks through the door, closing it behind himself. He smooths down his pants and fixes the collar of his jacket. His gaze darts around the room as he prepares to say what’s on his mind.
“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”
Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.
With a heavy sigh, he takes a seat on the couch. He keeps shifting his weight, but nothing feels right. The sweat on his hands increases as the seconds pass by. He's never done it before, confessed his feelings.
Jungkook had rehearsed like he was up for a big audition but felt he’d stumble over his words and blurt out bleh-bleh-blahs.
You resurface a few seconds later, wearing an oversized t-shirt and what appears to be nothing underneath, but when you sit down, he catches a peek at your shorts.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah, about us.”
You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Us?”
A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyebrows knitted together, wondering who it could be this late at night. When you open it, you find Namjoon.
“Hey! You left your phone at the restaurant,” he says. He acknowledges Jungkook as he steps in.
“Oh, thank you! Ah–don’t leave yet! I have something to give to you, too.” You dash to your room, leaving Jungkook and Namjoon.
There’s a moment before Jungkook breaks the silence. He turns to Namjoon. “That shirt she’s wearing is from her ex-boyfriend. She sleeps in it every night because she misses him.”
Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.
“Trust me–you should run while you can,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.
He points to the small Seventeen merch collection sitting on a shelf in your living room. “See. It’s cute and innocent until it’s not.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Namjoon says reluctantly as he turns away, trying to focus on other things until you return.
You leave your room with a bag, handing it to Namjoon. “I washed your shirt and bought you a new one too.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he reaches for the shirt, taking it out.
“I know, but I felt bad about ruining it.”
Namjoon chuckles. "I like how you're giving me a gift on your birthday."
You wave off his comment. "It's nothing. Thanks for returning my phone,” you say, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you later?”
He flashes a grin; his dimples etched deeply into those cheeks. You pull him down to kiss him on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his lips. You let it linger for a second longer, ensuring Jungkook can see it.
“Bye,” you whisper, closing the door behind him.
You stand with your back facing Jungkook. Clenching your jaw and your fists, you huff a breath. Turning around, you stare at the one person you thought was your friend.
“This is my ex-boyfriend’s shirt, and I sleep in it because I miss him?” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.
Your glare silences Jeon Jungkook, and his deer-in-the-headlights appearance implies guilt.
You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Have you been sabotaging all my relationships? Tell me the truth.”
You remember Jimin and Theo and how conveniently Jungkook had been there after each breakup.
There’s still no word from Jungkook. He’s playing with the invisible hair on his chin before he stands. “Yeah, but it’s only because—”
“Because what!” you exclaim. Never in a million years did you think you’d be yelling at a good friend. “Because you want to marry me? Why didn’t you just ask me out, Kook?”
The nickname causes his heart to ache. His eyes darted to the floor, then at you. “Because...”
You lean forward, waiting for his excuse, but he doesn’t give you one. You’re only met with silence.
“Because you’re the kind of guy who lies and manipulates to get what he wants? Didn’t really think you were that kind of person.”
“I’m not—”
“You are! If you cared about me, you wouldn’t go around spreading lies. And to think I was going to marry you? God–you must think I’m fucking stupid.”
"No, I don't think that at all—" he counters, taking a step toward you, and you take a step back.
Licking your lips, you play with your bottom lip. "I—I don't even know who you are anymore."
"I'm the same person you met two years ago," he says. Jungkook steps toward you again, reaching out for you.
"Don't touch me," you warn. "Don't you ever talk to me again," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You should go, Kook."
Jungkook walks past you. He makes his way to the door—and when it shuts, you flinch.
Approaching your 30s, you figured you’d be crying because you’re likely to have a mid-life crisis and not because one of your good friends has lied to you for the last couple of years.
Jungkook has misled you throughout the week. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.
Your heart aches from the pain. Why did this hurt more than a breakup? You trusted him, even considered marrying him and spending the rest of your life with him. How could you be so naive? Maybe it was your distorted perception of love and relationships, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.
Maybe it's your fault and no one else's.
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sunday.
It’s early. Too early for Jungkook’s taste.
He’s been tossing and turning all night. Wishing he could redo the last two years. Wishing he could’ve been honest from the beginning. Wishing you didn’t hate him right now.
Picking up his phone, he grumbles after seeing the time—six in the morning. There’s no way you’re up, he thinks. And there’s no way you’ll pick up his call either.
He assumes you’ve blocked him—wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t blame you.
The expression on your face is ingrained in his memory, and the lies he told are on a continuous loop. How would he win you back—if you’d let him, that is.
It’s that point in the romantic movie where the love interest finds the courage to go for it. Jungkook has nothing else to lose at this point. It’s now or never.
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With your favorite iced coffee and pastry in hand, he’s ready to beg for your forgiveness. Beg for another chance to make things right.
Three knocks strike your door. No answer.
He gives it another moment before doing it again.
And nothing.
He pulls out his phone, searching for your contact. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. At least you didn’t block him, he thinks.
Should he wait here all day? In hopes you’ll leave your apartment?
Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.
Jungkook figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He’s already lost his dignity.
Another three knocks, only this time it’s on Namjoon’s door. A few moments later, the lock unlatches, and the door opens.
Namjoon’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”
“Hey. Have you seen or heard from ___?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t.”
The corners of Jungkook’s lips turn down, and he nods. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lowering his head. He turns on his heel, ready to leave.
“Hey, Jungkook?”
He turns back and hums.
“If you like her, be honest with her,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Did ___ tell you?”
Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head no. “I figured you were lying when you said she made everyone fly to a private island. She mentioned that she’s never flown before. So I put two and two together, and it was hard to ignore all the glares you gave me at the party.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry about all the lies I told you. None of them were true—except maybe the Mingyu thing. She does have an obsession with that guy.”
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry about coming between you two. But it’s no wonder she likes you. You have your head on straight, unlike me.”
A grin sweeps across Namjoon’s face. “It’s okay. I get it, man. I’ve been there before—not the lying, but I’ve been head over heels for someone. ___ is cool, and you seem like a good guy. Just…don’t give up on her, okay?”
Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What about you guys?”
“Huh? Me and ___?” Jungkook hums. “We’ve been out on one date, and you’ve known her for…?
“Two years.”
“You have more history with her than I do.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”
Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’d be a fool to give up now. Trust me, you don’t want to live with the what ifs and what could have been.”
“Um, here,” Jungkook says, handing Namjoon the iced coffee and pastry bag. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”
He bids Namjoon goodbye, and as he’s driving home, he stares off into space, pondering Namjoon’s words.
What if you never want to talk to him again? What if he loses you?
He only wanted his chance with you; whenever he gathered the courage to do so, someone always came into the picture before him. He’s realized how much his lies caused more harm than good. He was cheating his way into your heart, which is unfair to you and him.
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You peek out when the elevator doors open, ensuring the coast is clear. You've seen the missed calls and texts but needed more time to be ready to face Jeon Jungkook. That's why you've been hiding out at Jenn's all day. But alas, you had to go home and face your fears.
Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.
It’s not like Jungkook’s been waiting around for you, right? Though, you didn’t want to make it known that you were home.
Not even ten minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s a knock on your door. Peering through your viewfinder, you check if the coast is clear and unlock your door. You grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the apartment.
"Whoa–miss me that much?" he jokes, setting down the iced coffee and pastry bag.
"What's that?"
"Jungkook dropped it off this morning, but you weren't here. Have you been hiding?"
You lower your head. "Yes."
Namjoon licks his lips. “He’s in love with you, you know?”
You ignore the coffee and pastry bag and sit on the couch. “It’s a weird way to show that you like someone by lying and sabotage.”
“I think it’s cute,” Namjoon chuckles, sitting beside you.
Disbelief is written all over your face: eyes wide, brows lifted, jaw open, which only makes him laugh harder.
“You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d say single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.”
“Is this a weird ‘guy code?’ Am I missing something?”
He shakes his head. “I get where he’s coming from. Does it suck that he lied instead of saying what he wanted? Yeah, but maybe he didn’t know how to say it because he feared he’d say nonsense in front of you. I know the feeling–where you like someone so much, you’re afraid of looking dumb.”
You ponder Namjoon’s words, sipping on your iced coffee. “You seem chatty. Does that mean you don’t go dumb around me?” you ask dryly.
Namjoon laughs. “I get butterflies and excitement every time I walk out my door, hoping I’d bump into you.”
“But?”
“But you should figure things out with Jungkook, and then we’ll go from there.”
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It’s silly—the glow-in-the-dark stars that are plastered on your ceiling. Half of them threaten to fall, and the other half are stuck on so tight it’ll take off the paint.
“You’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars before?” Jungkook asks. “Let’s get some.”
The only reason why they’re up there in the first place is because of him. Jungkook was comforting you after your breakup with Jimin.
You throw your duvet over your head, screaming into it. How could you have been so blind? So stupid? How are you supposed to face him again with your friend group? Or alone?
This past week was perfect—at least, you thought it was. But you’re second-guessing every interaction, every conversation, every laugh, every touch.
If you hadn’t met Namjoon, could you have fallen in love with Jungkook?
The more you thought about it, the more you hated that you were falling for him. Maybe Namjoon was just an excuse not to explore a relationship with Jungkook. Maybe you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, but then again, what did it matter because it’s been sabotaged by Jungkook himself?
How would you get out of this mess?
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monday.
A notification ding shows up on your phone.
[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]
Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.
You go through your text messages, finding the Instagram profile of Kai, who’s supposed to tattoo you. You frown when you see a cancellation fee and that the cancellation should’ve been done two days before the appointment. Now, you have to mentally prepare yourself for getting your first tattoo.
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The recommendations on your YouTube only show videos of ‘how much does getting a tattoo hurt.’ You know the pain that goes into a needle puncturing your skin. The question was, how high was your pain threshold?
When you walk into the shop, a bell chimes. It’s in pristine condition, as one would expect from a tattoo parlor. You’re greeted by a girl dressed in a black latex v-neck top. A sunray heart tattoo sits right on her chest.
“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”
She clicks through her computer and beams a warm smile. “For ___?” You nod. “Is Jungkook coming too?” she asks.
“Oh no. I don’t think so.” Was he planning on getting something, too? You didn’t think he’d show after everything went down.
“Kai is finishing up with a client, and he’ll come get you when he’s ready.”
You flash a small smile, taking a seat in their lounge. You’re picking at your nail beds and bouncing your leg. You’re trying to focus on anything other than what will happen soon.
A light noise of whirring fills the room. You close your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. It’s a small tattoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you think.
A part of you wishes Jungkook was here to hold your hand like he said he would. It's dumb even to want him to be here. But after spending so much time with him this past week, you admit you miss him.
"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.
You take a deep breath and follow him to his workspace.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”
“You’ll do great. I know it,” Kai smiles, sitting at his desk. He grabs his iPad. “Okay, what are we getting today?” Kai asks.
“Um, I turned 30 yesterday, so I wanted to get the birth flower for September,” you say, showing him the inspiration photos.
“Ah, Happy Birthday,” Kai grins. “Birth flowers are a great choice. Any idea where you want it and the size?”
"On the back of my neck, I don't want anything too big. Two to three inches."
"Oh–a woman who knows what she wants. There was no hesitation," Kai teases. "Cool–so, I'll sketch out a few options, and then we'll go from there. Sound good?"
You press your lips together and nod. As Kai's working on your sketch, you stroll around his workspace, looking at the illustrations hung up. There's traditional and fine line art, and you recognize a drawing of a snake—it looks like the one Jungkook has on his arm.
“See anything else you like?”
“I, um, recognize some of your work. You’ve tattooed my friend, Jungkook,” you note, turning back to look through more of Kai’s sketches.
Somehow, your nerves have finally calmed down. The whirring noise from the tattoo gun is like white noise to you, drowning everything out. You’re lost in the intricate detailing of the drawings. Tattooing is true art, you think. But instead of a traditional canvas or paper, it’s forever inked on someone’s skin.
“Okay, let me know what you think of these.” Kai shows you the iPad with a few flowers drawn out.
“You’re so quick,” you comment as you review your options. “Let’s go with this one.” You love how delicate and dainty the tattoo looks.
“If you need a break at any time, just let me know,” Kai gives a warm smile. “I apologize for the weird positioning, but I’ll need you to lay on your stomach, and your head will hang off the table.”
Your lips thin when you catch his gaze. You remove your zip-up hoodie and place it on a chair with your bag. Kai prints the design on transfer paper, putting the placement on the back of your neck. He hands you a mirror, ensuring it’s in the correct spot.
“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.
Once you’re on the table, the once-soothing noise of the tattoo gun flips a switch, and sweat builds up in the palms of your hands. The blood rushes to your head as your head is hanging off the table. You can see Kai’s feet as he steps on the foot pedal, ensuring his equipment works correctly.
You take a deep breath, trying to exhale fear and anxiety, but nothing works. The tattoo gun sounds closer, and the needle inches away from you. Your fists clench up, and you close your eyes, hoping it’ll be over quickly.
You can feel the latex glove on your back as Kai’s ready to outline the design. You can do this, you think.
With eyes still closed, fists clenched—you’re ready.
The shop's bell chimes again, but you’re too focused on this needle about to prick your skin. You can feel another presence. Their warmth is radiating on you. You figure it’s just the girl from the front, so you don’t bother to open your eyes.
Your fist unclenches, and not because of your own doing. It’s whoever is beside you. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of black motorcycle denim tucked into leather stomper boots.
“Hey—my man,” Kai stops and acknowledges. “Good to see you, Jungkook.”
“Hey,” Jungkook replies. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Nah, you’re right on time. We just started. I’m sure ___ appreciates you being here,” Kai notes, returning to tattooing you.
You didn’t want to admit it, but having Jungkook’s presence was comforting. A part of you wanted to be stubborn and pull your arm away, but considering that a needle was piercing your skin—it wasn’t a good idea.
Jungkook laces his hand with yours; his thumb lightly grazes over your skin. He leans forward, whispering, “Hi.”
You’re unsure if the shiver running through your spine is because of the needle or Jungkook.
While lying on this tattoo table, you’re at war with yourself. An angel on one shoulder tells you to stay strong and not give in because he’s holding your hand. The devil, on the other hand, is telling you you’re a simp and can’t resist when a man is fawning over you.
You hate that the devil is right, and you’re even considering Namjoon’s words, ‘You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d stay single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.’
Was it dedication or delusion?
You won’t lie. You’ve done questionable things when it came to love, too, so you couldn’t blame Jungkook. Maybe you should hear him out and see what he says for himself.
You’re silent, letting Kai do his thing. He and Jungkook chit-chat about life and future tattoos. The buzzing mechanical hum from the tattoo gun is constant and annoying—you’re growing numb to it like you’re growing numb to the pain.
But Jungkook’s touch? It makes you tingle. You’re keenly aware of how his thumb strokes against your knuckle—the constant squeezes, reassuring your anxiety when the pain shoots down your spine.
Through the years, that’s what Jungkook’s always been—he soothes your pain.
Maybe he’s responsible for your current pain - the shattered relationships and this tattoo you’re getting, but he always has a back-up plan: himself. He’s the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold—the constant, consistent one who shows up repeatedly.
He’s confusing but calming, and you’re annoyed at how much you don’t mind his touch. Your breathing slows, and your shoulders relax as you sink into the cushioned table.
“Almost done,” Kai notes.
That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.
Kai finishes cleaning the tattoo, and after you stand up from your awkward position, you’re face to face with Jungkook. Once again, Jungkook resorted back to his favorite color: black. He’s in an oversized long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and there’s a silver chain adorning his neck.
His doe eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth curve up. “The tattoo looks good on you,” he says softly. “Do you wanna see?”
Even with a mirror, the placement makes it hard to see the finished product. You grab your phone, open the camera app, and hand it over to Jungkook. You turn around, facing the mirror, holding up your hair. You catch Jungkook’s gaze and look away. His hand gently touches the nape of your neck, removing a stray hair. He snaps a few photos, handing your phone back.
“It looks beautiful on you.”
You mumble a word of thanks, grabbing your things, attempting to flee from his presence.
Pulling out your wallet to pay for your tattoo, you head to the front, but the girl stops you.
“Jungkook already paid,” she says.
The nape of your neck warms up, and your nostrils flare. You nod at the girl. Bumping into Jungkook on the way out, you stuff your wallet back into your bag, and Jungkook follows you, catching up.
“Why did you do that?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook.
"Because it's your birthday present. I couldn't let you pay for it."
You narrow your eyes, giving him the once over. “Why? So you can tell the next guy I date how we have matching tattoos and scare him off?” you retort, brushing past him.
Jungkook cards his hand through his hair. “Come on, that’s not fair,” he shouts, running after you again.
He calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you breathe a heavy sigh. “You’re right. It's not fair,” you give him a wry smile. “But doesn’t it sound like something you’d say? Mr. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.”
The third time must be the charm because he’s chasing after you again.
“Hey, can we talk, please?” he implores as his eyes scan your face.
You zig-zag around him.
He repeats by running and standing in front of you. “You can’t avoid me forever.”
“Watch me,” you retort, attempting to flee again.
Jungkook holds his hand up. “Just hear me out, and if you never want to talk to me again after that, then so be it."
You huff. “Only if you drop me off at home,” you say, crossing your arms. You don’t feel like taking the subway; it’s the least he could do.
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With hands in your lap, you’re waiting for Jungkook to say something, but he’s as quiet as a mouse. He’s missed two exits and been driving in circles, going past your apartment complex for the fourth time. You wouldn’t be surprised if a police car starts following you, considering how suspicious the two of you look.
You can’t take it anymore—the endless dancing around this conversation. “I thought you wanted to talk?” you ask as your eyes flick in his direction for a moment.
He straightens his posture, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road. "I'm, uh, I’m sorry for telling all those lies. It was stupid of me. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.”
You bury your face in your hands before turning to him. “If you liked me, why didn’t you tell me?”
You had come up with many scenarios in your head and thought back to your conversations and interactions with him. Jungkook had so many chances to say something, but he never did.
Jungkook shrugs and looks at you briefly before returning to the road.
“It’s easy being your friend, but to be your boyfriend? That scares me.”
You get it. Opening your heart, being vulnerable, and giving your everything to one person is terrifying. Sometimes, it feels like days, months, and years are wasted with one person when it doesn’t work out.
“Scared you’d screw it up?” you ask, turning to him.
Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.
With a sigh, you admit, “You were on your way to being a pretty good boyfriend.”
You hate that you found him so sweet and cute, even after everything that’s happened.
“I was?” he questions with widened eyes and turns off the ignition. He shifts to face you.
“Yeah,” you chuckle. Your hand lingers on the door handle. “Walk me up?”
The two of you are on opposite sides of the elevator. Jungkook’s leaning on the metal bar behind himself with his legs crossed in front of him.
He hangs his head before looking up at you. "What if I had been truthful from the beginning? Do you think we would’ve been together?”
You press your lips together and shake your head. “I don’t know, Kook. I guess we’ll never know.”
When the elevator arrives at your floor, it chimes, and you exit, and Jungkook follows. You stop outside your door, watching as Jungkook leans his shoulder against the wall, facing you.
You can tell when something is brewing in Jungkook’s mind. You’ve been friends long enough for you to notice some tendencies.
With an eyebrow lifted and his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek, he’s ready to lay something on you. He licks his lips, eyes flick to yours.
“Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says.
You can feel your stomach somersaulting when he doesn’t break eye contact. Your heart rate rises as you work harder to pump more blood than usual.
There were small, fleeting moments where you could picture yourself with him: weekend mornings with breakfast in bed and late-night cuddles on the couch.
“I’m trying my hardest not to feel something,” you confess. As much as he was scared to screw it up, so were you. You’ve never dated a friend. You’ve met all your ex-boyfriends through mutual friends. You’ve built fantasies of what a perfect boyfriend and relationship should look like, and Jungkook wasn't perfect–but neither were you.
Jungkook moves closer. “So you like me too?” His eyes dart from your parted lips to your eyes.
“I don’t not like you,” you say softly, stepping forward as you play with his silver chain.
"So where does this leave us?" He’s searching your face for an answer.
As always, your heart is at war with your head. The sensible thing to do is to stay friends. The foolish thing is to see how this could pan out. What if you could get your happily ever after?
"What would you do if I was yours?" you ask.
"If you were mine?"
You hum.
"If you were mine, I'd spend every waking minute with you. Asking anything and everything that comes to mind. I want to know what makes you happy and sad. I want to know what you love and hate. I want to know everything your heart desires." Jungkook eliminates the distance. "I'd pepper you with kisses all day–on your neck, cheeks, forehead, lips–everywhere,” he says softly as his eyes never leave yours. "If you were mine, I'd never lie to you again. I'd love you with every breath and never let you go." He’s eye to eye with you, hands cupping your face. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I was an idiot for not saying anything sooner. But if this is the only time I could be with you, I'll take it."
You gulp. Jungkook’s saying all the right things, everything a girl could want. You hate it. You hate that you’re a sucker for heartfelt moments and love confessions. Neverending cartwheels occupy your stomach. The little gymnast in there is going for the gold–doing back flips and leaps; there’s no way to stop them. Your heart beats faster for him than for anyone else–even more than Namjoon.
All it took was a silly agreement and a few lies to make you realize you didn’t want a perfect boyfriend or relationship. Forget getting married by a certain age. Forget the expectations of you instilled by society. This boy was a bit messy, a bit ruined, but a beautiful disaster.
Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.
You take another second to look at him because what you want to say next will change your friendship.
“Kiss me,” you say softly, your gaze dropping to his lips.
“Are you sure you want me to kiss you?”
You nod.
If there’s one more thing to add to Jungkook’s list of fears—it’s ruining your friendship.
“I won’t be able to stop if I do,” he whispers.
Restless is how you would describe Jungkook. Restless when it came to telling your exes lies. Restless in his ability to sit still. Restless as he chews on his bottom lip–it could be how he incessantly licks his lips or just lacks hydration. You’ve never noticed before how badly he needs chapstick.
But Jungkook’s within touching distance of your lips, and all you can think about is how much he needs chapstick. Your sweet peach one, you think.
Maybe you should offer him some.
“Then don’t.”
It’s slow and gentle when he kisses you. He’s taking his time. There’s no urgency. No tongue, no hands beneath your shirt, or roaming your body. Nothing like that.
It’s like he’s been waiting so long to do this. It’s like he’s forgotten any other mouth existed but yours. You’ll forget your name or where you are when you finally break away from his lips.
He consumes every thought you have, and this is what you were afraid of–that you’ll become addicted to his kisses. You’re unsure how long you can stand before he has to carry you to bed.
His breath is warm and sweet. You love him breathing life into you and taking it away over and over. Your hands curl into his shirt, tugging him as close as possible. Tilting your head, you open your mouth to catch more air before kissing him again. Lips upon lips are discovering each other.
Jungkook pulls away, his nose nudging yours. He kisses the corner of your mouth and your cheek. He’s on his tippy toes, kissing your eyelids, then your forehead.
“Okay–don’t stop,” you say, breathless, reaching for another kiss. “It’s for scientific reasons.”
He chuckles. “Are you researching how long someone can go without breathing?”
“Mmhm.” You reach again, but he pulls back, making you pout.
“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, ‘Where does this leave us?’ he asks.
You realize he won’t kiss you until you answer him. You cock your head to the side. “I like you, but it will take a minute for me to trust you again.”
Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”
“So–we should take this slow and see where it goes.”
He sucks in his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “What about Namjoon?”
The two of you hear someone clearing their throat, and you look in their direction as they appear from the hallway. It’s Namjoon, giving you a quick wave.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says as he walks to his door. “I saw you guys when I turned the corner, but then I ducked back into the hallway, waiting for you to…finish.” Namjoon presses his lips together into a smile.
You turn to Jungkook. “I’ll be one second.”
With a sprint in your step, you head toward Namjoon. “I’m so sorry you saw that.”
Namjoon laughs. “Why are you sorry? I knew I didn’t have a chance against Jungkook. I was waiting for you to realize you wanted to be with him.”
Your eyes widened. “You knew?”
His eyebrows raise, and he nods. “Mmhm.” He leans forward. “We had fun, but look at the guy.” Namjoon glances at Jungkook. “I would’ve felt like the back-up until you two got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about me. Go–he’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks Namjoon.” A sense of relief rushes over you, and you’re thankful he understands.
Returning to Jungkook, you’re no longer looking at your back-up plan. He’s the one you want to wake up next to, the one you want to laugh with, smile with–he’s become your first choice.
He extends his hand for yours. “So, should I get my tux pressed?”
You deadpan.
“We’re practically engaged now, right?” he jokes before leaning in for a kiss.
You press your finger into his taut chest, pushing him away. “Be fucking for real, Jungkook. We’re going inside and watching my favorite rom-com–While You Were Sleeping, so you can see the consequences of how lying gets you in trouble.”
“Oh, I love that one! It's the one where she pretends to be engaged to the guy in a coma, but she falls for the brother?”
You slowly turn to him, mouth agape. “You really have seen a lot of rom-coms, haven’t you?”
“I may have learned a thing or two from them.”
“Yeah–lying!” You scold him as you enter the apartment. The two of you continue bickering back and forth.
Who knew you’d be living in a romantic film of your own?
3K notes · View notes
amorfista · 9 months
Text
[WIP] "Shenanigans at the beach"
The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!
While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city there is out there!
But hold up just a second...
-"Hey Wrecker, look!"
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"...now wouldn't it be a shame if someone was feeling extra mischievous today?" Omega thought to herself. Turning to her left, lips pressed in a smile, she discovered Wrecker mimicking her expression. Apparently, he had just read her mind >:).
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Tech had felt such peace, such safety that he had fallen into a deep slumber, further fueled by his usual lack of sleep.
Tough seldom wrong, today he was.
Because at this moment Tech was, in fact, in grave danger.
...TO BE CONTINUED!!
[Part 3] [Part 4]
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(Acknowledging the lil' banner for a fraction of a second, it's just something I'm testing out and would like some feedback if you'd be so kind to give it :)) I'll probably make it just a tad bit more refined and (possibly) include the members of the Batch appearing on the post? but I might just randomize it for fun too. Thank you for taking the time to read this!!)
OKAY SOO. I decided to post these two drawings that I completed a few days ago because:
- once again i deadass couldn't wait anymore💀
- I have decided to make as many "beach episode" themed drawings as I can during the summer (and fall if we get there cuz why not) so i'll just post them as I'm done with each of 'em! I have SO many ideas for it and I want it to be a big project and not some sketches as I had initially planned. I want to make it WHOLESOME and HEART MELTING!! Whenever I get burnt out or need some fresh air I'll draw other things, probably still within the Star Wars theme because the brainrot is real🤓, but just letting you know in advance because AAAH!! this is a big thing for me and I want to share it with you guys because love is all you've shown me and I want to reciprocate 💕 🥺 
- and last but DEF NITELY not least I want to celebrate thAT I REACHED 300+ FOLLOWERS TODAY!! AND ALSO 1000+ NOTES ON MY OMEGA DRAWING??!! IN LIKE NO TIME TOO!!? WHAT THE FRICK. THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE!!
Never before had my art had such an impact in a community. I am so grateful for all of your comments and interactions with my drawings, it's a ridiculous boost in inspiration and confidence :) It makes me want to push my limits every time!! So once again THANK YOU!!☺️ 💕 
Here's my taglist, just let me know if you wish to join!! ♥
@dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes
2K notes · View notes
writingstoraes · 11 months
Note
hello! for the ig imagine, can i request charles with a medical student reader? maybe she's in her final year before residency and even though charles has no clue about medic he still tries to help her with studying. thank you!
patient 🩺
pairing: charles leclerc/fem!medstudent!reader
type: instagram imagine, social media au
notes: whew being a pre med student ngl this fueled my delusions a lil (jk) anyway i hope u like this, anon 🤍 thank you so much for requesting! i also tried to stick with ig posts since its been so long since i did one thats mostly ig posts hehe
about: supportive charles and his future doctor of a girlfriend!
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, isahernaez, franciscagomes, and 21,991 others
yourusername officially on my last hospital duty before graduation! can't believe i have spent 4 tiring yet meaningful years of medical school, still feels unreal. couldn't have done it without the love and support of the people i hold dear to me 🤍
charles_leclerc So proud of you, amoùr 😘 Je n'ai jamais douté de toi. I never doubted you
yourusername thanks for being my first patient, baby <3
pascale_leclerc Congratulations, dear! We miss you!
carlossainz55 The group finally has a doctor! That means unlimited recklessness 😎
pierregasly Remember how we always wanted to try riding a bike on the roof
yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc, carlossainz55, and 50,223 others
yourusername a seperate appreciation post for the love of my life — who's witnessed all my lowest lows and highest highs. despite his own busy schedule, he still managed to fetch me from uni/hospital, prepare breakfast for me, and even help me study.
i guess i owe you a ton for all the cancelled dates and postponed plans, charles_leclerc? 💋
ps. the second picture is charles asleep on my shoulder after he helped me study three subjects for a major exam that went on for HOURS. i think i underestimated just how much he loves me :)
carlosluvr GOD i need me a charles right now its bad enough my pre med is killing me
hamiltonmerc Charles out here setting standards ridiculously high there really is just one of him huh 🤨
charles_leclerc Would do anything for you and you know that ❤️ (Honestly got to a point where I memorized some of what you were studying)
carlossainz55 Woah there Mr. Doctor?
charles_leclerc I think I can give you an injection now, mate 😄
carlossainz55 No thanks I still love my life
charles_leclerc
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen, arthurleclerc and 1,445,211 others
charles_leclerc So incredibly lucky to be with someone as intelligent and hardworking as you. I promise to be with you every step of the way in full support and ready to shower you with love ❤️
Kinda afraid of needles but if you need to practice, I'm always available. Wake me up when you need someone to quiz you or make you coffee. I love you even when you're frustrated when you're practicing your sutures.
tagged: yourusername
charlossf23 You're telling me Y/N has Charles and all I got from medical school was anxiety
yourusername still need you when i study for the boards
charles_leclerc Working on the flashcards already, chèrie 😘
supermaxmax THE FLASHCARDS ARE SO REAL
pierregasly Carlos and I are on the roof tell Y/N to bring her medical supplies
yourusername please get down from there
charles_leclerc added to his instagram story!
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tagging: @slytherheign
notes: god pre med is hard wish i had someone like charles 😔 i hope you liked this, anon! thank you so much for reading 🤍
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elsweetheart · 11 months
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okay, so. the jail au.
everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer!
of course, me and @seattlesellie were rambling abt this for like an hour straight and i just had to share some of the little thoughts we came up with because it makes my brain go brrrr ok !!
going back to my roots with girly fem reader !! reader is a lil strap tease, ellie is a loser, and abby is big and scary 🎀
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♡ so you find yourself in jail. the reason behind your imprisonment is up to u ok idk !!!
♡ ellie being the corrupt officer who sneaks you in contraband bc poor girly you can’t seem to last without your ‘stupid MAC lipliner’ or rose quartz or whatever it is you have ellie sneaking in.
♡ meeting her in the storage closet for your usual rendezvous, giggling and tugging at her uniform as she swats your hands away, huffing.
♡ “seriously? do you know how hard it is to sneak this shit in? you better hide that good, ‘cus if you get caught m’not saving your ass from Abby.”
♡ abby, of course is the no nonsense prison warden.
♡ the thing about ellie, is she hardly lays down the law. she’s a fucking loser, infact the only reason she lets you get away with so much and got herself caught up in this whole contraband situation is because she quite literally couldn’t resist a pretty girl batting her lashes up at her and caved. it’s pathetic really, but you think she looks super cute under the dim lights of the storage closet, hoping the lack of lighting is enough to hide the blush across her freckled cheeks (it’s not.)
♡ with ellie being a loser, comes ellie being a perv. “gonna have to hide that real good, okay? can’t get caught.” she’s muttering, stuffing the things you’d requested from her down your bra, really getting in there to make sure it’s hidden, of course.
♡ meanwhile, you can’t seem to keep your hands off her — absolutely adoring the thrill of your dirty little secret, feeling special knowing she doesn’t do this for anyone else. she clears her throat when you kiss her on the cheek and grab at her handcuffs. “ooh, can you use these on me?” you flutter making her tsk, flustered and shooing you away despite the burning in her cunt. “those—those are for making arrests okay, shit— y’so handsy.”
♡ maybe if she’s feeling brave enough one day she’ll put you on your knees as payback and hurriedly use your face to get off. maybe. she daydreams about that a lot.
♡ anyway, she’s forever complaining about your ridiculous requests for her to sneak in— and then fulfilling your request within the next few days.
♡ “ellie, i need buttons.” she sighs. “why.” “i’m making a plushie.” the next day she has buttons in her hand.
♡ again, she’d hate for you to get caught — so she’s stuffing the plastic bag of buttons down your prison pants into your underwear before retying the string on your pants and patting over your pussy where she stuffed the bag. “keep that safe. got it? ‘told you, you don’t wanna be on the other end of abby.”
♡ but oh, you did.
♡ how you adored seeing how far you could push it with the big blonde buff prison warden. it started off as you relentlessly asking her dumb flirty questions until she was grabbing you by the cheeks, towering over you and telling you to “get back to your cell.”
♡ but you were unstoppable, always making sure to give her a show in the shower room when she’d be in there on her watch shift. you were starting to think she was trading shifts just to be in there when you were. she’d always stand by the sinks with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, walkie-talkie on her hip only accenting her toned body. you’d be across from her, shower cubicle door open, hands sliding up and down your body — seeing how long she’d let you slide your hand between your legs and rub your clit until she’d tell you to “cut it out, you’re wasting hot water.” though, you could see the way she shifted her thighs, and her cheeks would go the cutest shade of dusty pink.
♡ abby doing your cell checks was always scary, always just narrowly missing your hiding spots where you’d shove all the things ellie brought you. “you hiding anything in here ma’am?” she’d eye you as you shake your head innocently, watching her pull your blankets up and shake them. “why do i not believe you? little minx like you, always up to something.”
♡ you nearly let a smirk slip, nearly — but instead widen your eyes until they were doe like, looking up at her as she closes in on you, trying to figure you out. “me? no, i’m a good girl. i’d never do that, abby.”
♡ you’d continue to stare up at her as she takes a long look, raking her eyes down your body before back up to your gaze. “thats officer anderson to you.” before departing, never quite giving you what you want.
♡ until, she keeps catching you with officer williams. and it makes her jealous. because obviously, you’re her little prison slut. only hers.
♡ you stand by ellie in the cafeteria for a little too long, talking to eachother under your breath and sparing side glances. abby watches, before deciding to make an example out of you and grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and dragging you back to your cell where you’re out of everyone’s vision, growling something about “stop fraternising with the officers.”
♡ she nudges you back into your cell and is in disbelief at you holding back a mischievous smile when you turn around to face her where she stands in the doorway. “you’re an officer…?” you challenge, batting your lashes. she eyes you hungrily, breathing heavily for a moment before lowly muttering an “other officers.” leaving you with a victorious smile when she storms off.
♡ and then one day she catches you, really catches you. you’re waiting for ellie in the storage closet for an exchange of goods, and when the door opens and closes, you turn around with a smile — only to come face to face with abby. poor ellie was off on prison bus duty, assigned conveniently by none other than officer anderson.
♡ “what’s going on in here, hm? what have you been up to?” her finger stroking the walkie talkie on her leg. your smile fades, caught and your brows furrow — blinking up at her waiting for some kind of punishment. “a little birdie told me you had a thing for officers sneaking in things they shouldn’t, that true?” she knocks your chin up when you look down, attempting to evade her dark gaze.
♡ “i don’t know what you’re—” “you know, everyone breaks the rules sometimes. even a warden like me.” she steps closer, backing you against the wall making you gasp lightly as something light falls off the shelf behind you. she grabs your wrist, bringing your fingers to her crotch, a hard plastic cock bulged beneath her pants. you whimper, because it feels huge. “yeah, see. i can be sneaky too. maybe you can continue keeping that slutty mouth closed, and i’ll keep my mouth shut about your little meet ups with officer williams. we got a deal?” she pushes into you more, a shelf digging into your back and covered cock pushing up against your crotch making you let out a shaky breath.
♡ “i can — i can keep a secret.” “yeah? huh. maybe i misjudged you. maybe you are a good girl.”
♡ and when you show up all weak legged, bruised and hot faced to meet with ellie the next day for your rescheduled pick up — she has a million questions, brows frowning in not so subtle jealousy and pouting.
♡ “so what, i bring you your shit for months and you just let the first warden who comes in here fuck? that shit is so unfair.” she complains, barely trying to shrug you off when you run your hands up her toned arms and rest them on her shoulders.
♡ “lemme make it up to you, show you how grateful i am, els.” she let’s you kiss her for a minute, melting a little at the way you suck on her bottom lip before pulling away and fixing her uniform after your grabby hands had skewed it. “just— take your shit and get lost. i’ll see you in the cafeteria.”
♡ but she can’t stay mad at your cute little face. especially when you’re sooo sweet to her, and let her take her anger out on you in the next closet meet up with her fingers.
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gabessquishytum · 2 months
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Human au: Hob is… confused. He and Dream have planned at least five dates by now, and every time Dream cancels at the last minute. Normally he’d assume that it was just Dream trying to get out of seeing him, but 1) Dream is the one who keeps asking him out and rescheduling again and again, 2) each time he cancels he seems so genuinely upset and apologetic, and 3) when they see each other in person, Dream is shit at hiding the stars in his eyes when he looks at Hob. So he is honestly baffled as to what is going on.
Finally, Death (who can’t handle seeing her little brother all teary eyed and distraught anymore), sends Hob a series of screenshots of conversations between herself and Dream. Turns out, Dream has been turning himself inside out trying to plan the ABSOLUTELY PERFECT DATE for Hob. If anything is even remotely wrong, he cancels. It’s never even anything catastrophic or major- he’s apparently canceled because the weather was a little colder than would have been ideal for their trip to the park, because there was construction happening next door to the restaurant he was going to take him, because he couldn’t find any peonies (Hob’s favorite) at any of the local flower shops (no shit, they were out of season), etc etc. 
Dream has been practically making himself sick because he’s so convinced that he NEEDS to give Hob the absolutely perfect date in order to “””win him over””” (as if Hob hasn’t already been in love with him for ages, the precious dumbass), plus Hob just deserved the very best. 
Hob finds it all very sweet, if not a little sad and ridiculous, so the next time they reschedule, he insists on being the one to plan the date. Dream tries to argue, but Hob silences him with their first kiss (Dream turns adorably pink). He explains that all he wants is to spend more time with him, and he wants Dream to be able to relax and enjoy their time together too. 
Granted, getting Dream to relax is a tall order, but they do finally go on that date, and Hob gives him enough kisses and cuddles to adequately distract him from any lingering anxieties 💕
-🦇
This is so incredibly cute. Dream being a perfectionist - very relatable, by the way - feels very much like him. He just wants it to be the most memorable, wonderful, extraordinary date that Hob has ever had. Dream is quite sure that he alone won't be enough to capture Hob’s attention, to make him stay - he simply isn't interesting or kind or beautiful enough. So he'll simply have to make up for his own shortcomings by taking Hob on the best date ever!
The truth is of course that Hob is arse over tit in love and would do absolutely anything for Dream. He'd be happy with a snuggle on the sofa with an old movie and some popcorn! Actually, a duvet date with Dream sounds pretty ideal, they'll definitely have to do that at some point.
For their first date (FINALLY) Hob drags Dream to a lil bookstore/cafe which has beanbag chairs perfect for cuddling in. He promises to buy Dream as many books as he wants, as long as he at least tries to stop overthinking for an hour or two. And it's not easy for Dream to do that, but the promise of books is enough to make him try.
They also kiss a lot behind the shelving. It's not a perfect date (it rains on the way home) but it's pretty damn near close, actually. And they have a lot of time to practice more dates in the future. Dream finds it surprisingly easy to see that Hob loves him, anyway. No matter what.
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omgrachwrites · 10 months
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The Night We Met (Chapter Three)
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Potter!Reader
Summary: Over the summer you connected with the boy who is quite literally your twin’s mortal enemy. Things start to fall apart in the darkness of the autumn.
Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, everyone lives au, takes place in 6th year
A/N: Soooo, this is up a lot later than intended so I have made it a lil longer to thank you guys for your patience. Alsoooo thank you so much for all your support on this series, it truly means the world to me! Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know if you would like to be tagged. I love you all very much! xxx
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Chapter Three
The Great Hall was especially rowdy one blustery Thursday morning as you went to meet your friends for breakfast, opting to sleep in for an extra ten minutes. The cause of the noise was coming from the first years panicking about their timetables and the older students who were practising their spells for class. Hermione grinned at you when she noticed you, her curly hair in a braid down her back.
“You look especially lovely this morning, Y/N,” she smiled as you sat down.
You flushed at her words, “why, thank you. My mum would say it’s the fresh air, does wonders for the complexion she says.”
Ron, who had been listening to the conversation looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “and, what would you say?” he asked.
You shrugged, “I would say it’s a happy accident.”
Ron snorted into his breakfast at your reply while Hermione shook her head fondly as she poured some milk into your tea, “you are completely ridiculous.”
You laughed, taking the milk from her and pouring it into your bowl of cereal as you looked up at your twin who looked as though he was trying not to fall asleep in his cornflakes.
“What’s up with Harry?” you asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes, “probably too busy poring over that stupid potions book all night instead of sleeping.”
It was in the first potions lesson of the year that Harry had found the mysterious book that had transformed him into a potions expert. Hermione regarded the book as a form of cheating and you weren’t inclined to agree with her until he won the tiny bottle of liquid luck. The former owner of the book called themselves the Half-Blood Prince, and none of you had any clue who it was. Though, you were sure that you had heard the name somewhere but you couldn’t put your finger on it.
Harry seemed to wake up halfway through breakfast, “what have we got first?” he asked, concealing a yawn behind his hand.
“It’s Thursday so it’s Defence Against the Dark Arts,” you replied and Harry’s face fell.
Defence Against the Dark Arts used to be Harry’s favourite lesson but now with Snape teaching the class it was quickly becoming his idea of hell, “great,” he mumbled, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, “I wonder what fun we’ll have today,” you rolled your eyes, he was so dramatic.
“Just don’t piss him off,” Ron laughed but that was almost impossible because Harry’s mere presence seemed to piss Snape off.
Finally, the bell went and you all traipsed to your lesson, it was pitch black in the classroom, as usual. Snape preferred to teach with all the blinds down on the windows, once again fuelling the rumour that he was a vampire.
“Everyone get in and sit down,” he hissed, there was no time or room for any pleasantries in Snape’s lessons.
When everyone had found their seats in silence Snape started the lesson and you quickly learned it wasn’t exactly a cheery topic that he would be teaching today, “we’ll be covering the cruciatus curse today. You will be required to explain each unforgivable curse in detail along with their characteristics for your NEWT exams next year.”
Your NEWT exams was the focus of all professors this year it seemed. You fidgeted nervously as you tried not to look at the very graphic photograph of a wizard being tortured that was hung on the wall. You missed Remus. Everyone had tried to convince Remus to come back to Hogwarts but he didn’t seem to be interested.
“Now,” Snape continued in a dangerously quiet voice, “what are the characteristics of the cruciatus curse and what is it used for?”
The room was silent, even Hermione didn’t raise her hand although you knew that she knew the answer. She was staring very hard at the blackboard, hardly blinking. A soft voice made everyone jump and you were surprised at who it was that spoke.
“The curse is used to inflict excruciating pain on the victim, though it leaves no physical mark and you have to mean it for the curse to work. It’s like your nerve endings are on fire,” Mattheo stared at his piece of parchment as he spoke before he finally looked up and cleared his throat, “or, that’s what I’ve read anyway.”
Snape nodded at him before turning to write it up on the blackboard, “5 points to Slytherin, Riddle.”
You looked at Mattheo, horror rising in your chest. What he had said didn’t seem to come from someone who had merely read about the curse. Snape lectured for about twenty more minutes before he made you all start an essay on the cruciatus curse in silence. It made for a very depressing lesson.
As soon as the bell rang, signalling the next lesson, Mattheo practically flew from the room without waiting for his friends, and you followed behind him. The hallway was practically empty due to how quick you both left the classroom and you called his name. You had expected him to keep walking but he didn’t. He turned to look at you.
“How did you know all that stuff about the cruciatus curse?”
He laughed humourlessly as he walked closer to you with an anguished look on his handsome face, “how do you think I know it?” the look on his face wasn’t the look of someone who had cast it, but someone who had been on the receiving end of it.
You forced back the gasp that threatened to spill from your mouth, you knew that he wouldn’t exactly appreciate that form of sympathy, “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, “why the hell do you even care? We agreed to carry on like we don’t know each other.”
“I know that’s what we agreed but Theo, I can’t pretend like I don’t know you. It’s not like I can turn my feelings for you off just like that. Can you?”
Mattheo swallowed as he looked at the floor before he looked back at your face, “it was never that deep for me, Y/N.”
His words hurt you, they were so cold and calculating but before you could muster a reply, you felt someone wrap an arm around your shoulders, “is he bothering you, Y/N?” Harry asked.
Mattheo never took his eyes from yours as he raised an eyebrow. You tore your eyes away from his as you looked at your brother, “no, he’s not. C’mon, Harry, let’s get to potions.”
Harry glared at Theo as he shoved past him, hissing beneath his breath, “stay the fuck away from my sister, Riddle.”
As you joined Ron and Hermione outside the dungeons, Ron narrowed his eyes, “and where were you two?”
“Nowhere, doesn’t matter,” you said quickly before Harry could say anything.
As far as you were concerned your dad was the only one who knew about you and Mattheo, and you weren’t going to start broadcasting it now. Thankfully, Slughorn came out and greeted the class, letting them inside before Harry could contradict your words.
When you walked into the dungeons, you were immediately hit with the smell of fancy French cologne. You knew it was coming from the steaming cauldron on Slughorn’s desk. For the past couple of lessons, you had been learning the theory of Amortentia – the world’s strongest love potion – you didn’t pay too much attention to the scent of the cologne.
Your mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Mattheo, you really wished you could just get over him. Maybe you should start dating, though unfortunately you knew that most of the male population at Hogwarts were complete idiots.
Slughorn grinned at everyone as he ushered them all inside, “welcome, welcome. Please take your seats,” it was a vast difference from Snape.
Slughorn started the lesson about five minutes late as he waited for everyone to make it down to the dungeons from their previous lessons. When everyone had taken their seats, Slughorn clapped his pudgy hands together, “right, as you all know for the past couple of days we have been learning about Amortentia. Some of you may have realised that this,” he tapped the cauldron with his wand, “is full of Amortentia. Now, who would like to tell the class what they smell?”
When nobody volunteered, Slughorn looked at you with a smile on his face, “how about you, Miss Potter?”
A couple of your classmates snickered while Mattheo looked at you, the expression on his face was very guarded. You bit your lip as you looked back at Slughorn, shaking your head, “I’d rather not if that’s okay, Professor.”
“Of course, I know it’s no small thing that I ask,” he said kindly and your body flooded with relief. Slughorn turned his attention to Mattheo, “how about you, Mr Riddle?”
To your surprise, Mattheo nodded, “yes, Sir,” he walked to the front of the classroom and took a deep breath as he drank in the scent of the steaming potion. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he did so, “I don’t smell anything, Sir.”
Slughorn looked hugely disappointed, “nothing at all?”
“No, Sir.”
Although Slughorn looked disappointed he didn’t look surprised, “very well, please take your seat, Mr Riddle.”
Mattheo found his seat and he looked up, his eyes meeting yours. There was nothing in his eyes, they were stone cold and the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t lying, he really couldn’t smell anything. But what did that mean? The lesson passed in a blur and you didn’t exactly listen as your mind was elsewhere, you did feel bad but you knew that you could easily catch up with the notes at a later date.
At dinner that evening the thought was still bothering you so you decided to ask Hermione, “why couldn’t Riddle smell anything in the Amortentia?”
Hermione looked at you in surprise, “have you not heard the rumour?”
“What rumour?”
“There’s a rumour that Voldemort was conceived because of a love potion,” Harry replied, butting into the conversation.
“So?” you asked wondering what his point was.
“People who are conceived because of love potions are incapable of feeling love, and if it runs through Voldemort’s veins then it runs in Riddle’s too,” Hermione explained.
You looked up at the handsome boy who was laughing with his friends on the other side of The Great Hall. You didn’t know who his mother was but you knew that he wasn’t conceived from love, presumably Voldemort was desperate from an heir.
“So, he can’t love either,” you said to yourself.
It was like some sort of Greek tragedy, having feelings for someone who was incapable of returning them.
“Why are you so bothered?” Ron asked.
“I’m not,” you lied, missing the way Hermione looked at you with suspicion.
A couple of days later, Hermione cornered you in the changing rooms when you had showered after Quidditch practice. She was slightly breathless and her cheeks were pink, it looked as though she had practically ran to get to you.
“What are you doing here?”
She shook her head, “I was racking my brain, trying to figure out why you were so bothered that Riddle couldn’t smell anything in potions. Then it came to me, he’s the boy you met over the summer isn’t he? Please don’t lie to me.”
You sighed, “yes,” you whispered, waiting for the judgemental look or the burst of outrage but she simply took your hand and waited for you to continue, “we got to know each other over the summer and I thought he was a dick at first, but when I really got to know him, I realised he’s different than the front he puts up at school.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, looking hurt.
“I didn’t want you judging me.”
“Y/N! I wouldn’t have judged you, I would have been there for you through it all, through the break-up. In fact, I will be there for you, it’s clear that you still have feelings for him.”
“Why would you do that for me?” Theo’s dad was the cruellest wizard that had ever lived, he’d been especially cruel to people like Hermione. She should hate you, but she didn’t.
“Because you’re my best friend, silly girl,” she laughed as she pulled you into a hug.
You hugged her back tightly, “please don’t tell anyone, especially not Harry.”
Hermione laughed into your hair, “I don’t want you to get murdered, of course I won’t tell Harry,” you smiled at her response, relieved that at least someone knew your secret.
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Taglist: @primscat @thelifeofsecretpenguins @ehwhatever26 @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @nevillescomslut @hannahnikohl @5-seconds-of-animals @sanjanapm @abbiesxox @kaverichauhan @cat-loves-music @elijahslover @torresbarnes @ikyourwonderingwhyinameditthis @scream4melove @kingofsante01 @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @manyafandom-fangirl @onlyangel-444 @itsamusical4lifee @team-flashh @its-astraea @iamkaku @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @reeseeverhart @themiya55 @skyslowalking @shyartisanvoidwagon
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turtle-tot-tournament · 9 months
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Kid Leo Au by @angelpuns
Basically Mikey almost disintegrates at the end of the movie and Leo is like ' nah ' and then unlocks a new mystic power which accidentally turns his body back in time by 11 years so that he is now 5. And ofc chaos ensues.
One Turtle Short of a Lair/ OTSL by @bucketofbugz
The turtles are left to raise themselves when famous actor Lou Jitsu never makes it out of the Hidden City. 8 years in, everything's going great, until Orange, now known as, Mikey gets swept away in the sewers and the rest of the turtles can't find him. But luckily April does, and Mikey spends two years with April and her mom before a ridiculous stroke of luck causes him to run into one of his siblings again. He's just a silly lil guy :]
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mihrsuri · 2 months
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2 and 18 for the current WIP asks
2. Give the first line of this chapter/fic
Settling in with snacks for Some Fantastic Cromwich Content RN. Surprised by the content warning at the beginning though.
(From the in universe Tudors OT3 Verse discord discussion of Unmasked Part I and II aka the episodes of The Tudors in this universe in which if you don’t know the history you will be Getting A Shock that @nocompromise-noregrets @herawell have really helped to build this one)
18. Share the scene you just wrote, written from another character’s POV
Aleksander takes a look at the jewellery he has chosen for his precious sunshines - he likes elegant pieces but pieces that make clear that they are his, that no one is to touch them - Alina’s is midnight black diamonds set in gold with earrings to match, Nikolai’s bracelets to match. Yes, he’s visiting the training centre but he won’t let them out of his sight, not when he has so little time. Not when some in the capital still don’t believe they are for him alone.
(From my Grishaverse Hunger Games featuring Capital Mentor Aleksander who may or may not have been a Victor at all, is definitely playing both Coin and the President of Panem against each other and picked both Alina and Nikolai to be his ‘lovers’)
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bitterspoons · 5 days
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For once, I thought it was me.
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Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.
use of y/n
Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff
Word Count:
part one / part two coming soon
A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.
"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.
"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.
Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."
Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."
Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.
"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."
Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"
"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.
"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."
Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."
Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"
In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.
Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.
Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.
"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.
"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.
George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."
Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.
"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.
The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.
"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.
"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.
"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.
"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."
"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"
"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."
"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"
Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."
Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.
●●●
Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.
When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.
As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.
It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?
He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.
Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.
"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.
Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.
"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."
"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.
Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.
Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.
"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.
"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"
"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.
"Your soulmate or your crush?"
"Maybe both!"
●●●
Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!
Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.
His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.
And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.
Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.
Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.
Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"
Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"
Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."
Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"
"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."
Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"
"Yeah?" He said hopefully.
"Can you do me a favour?"
Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.
"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."
Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.
So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.
"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"
Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."
Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.
So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.
The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.
Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.
"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.
Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.
Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.
Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.
Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.
Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.
Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?
Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.
What was her name again? Y/n?
Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.
Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.
______________
Girls Dorm #207
- Susan Bones
- Lia Diggory
- Y/n L/n
______________
Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.
"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.
Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"
The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.
Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.
Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.
The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress
Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.
"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.
"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."
"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"
"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.
"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"
Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.
"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.
A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.
Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.
He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.
●●●
Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.
"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"
Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.
Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.
Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.
"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"
""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.
"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.
"I don' know," Fred admitted.
"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.
The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"
"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.
"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."
"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"
Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”
“Who?”
Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.
“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.
“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”
“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”
Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”
“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”
“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”
“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”
Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.
“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"
"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.
Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.
"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.
"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."
Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."
Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.
"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"
Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?
"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.
"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.
"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"
Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.
Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.
Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.
"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.
"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."
“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”
Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”
“Why not hang out with Angelina?”
“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”
So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”
“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”
Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”
“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”
Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.
“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.
Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"
"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."
"Alright then, I'll see you around?"
"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.
Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.
(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)
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loserdiaz · 5 months
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tagged by the lovely @daffi-990 🩷
i wanted to share some more from my the ballad of songbirds and snakes au bc im so so so excited!!
so here's another moodboard!
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and a lil snippet:
Buck tilts his head and squints his eyes, studying Eddie in a way that makes him squirm, that makes him feel too exposed but at the same time he doesn't want to hide from it.
"I heard some of the tributes say the mentor with the best tribute wins a prize or something. You must really want it, huh?"
"You can think whatever you want," Eddie grits out. "But you trusted me out there. You had my back just like I have yours. Trust me on this, I don't care about the stupid prize, okay?"
"Whatever—" "What about Maddie, huh? Your sister? If you're not gonna fight for yourself, fight for her."
Buck's breath catches, something flashes in his eyes but it's too fast and Eddie doesn't get the chance to decipher it. "She's fine. This was her last year in the reaping, she's safe now."
"And what about when she has to watch you die in the Arena, Buck? What then? Will she be fine then?" "Do you think I want that? Do you think I wanted any of this?" Buck snaps and Eddie flinches, quickly looking over his shoulder to make sure the peacekeepers didn't hear Buck's outburst. "What choices do I have here, Eddie? What kind of weapon can you give me that will make me get out of this alive? I get what you're saying but something as ridiculous and as dangerous as hope doesn't exist for people like me. It's just another luxury we can't afford."
"Just let me think of something, okay? I'll figure something out." Desperation tinges his every word but at this point Eddie is in too deep to care. "Do you trust me?"
"I don't really have a choice." Buck whispers and that stings, a little zip of hurt shooting through Eddie's heart.
But then—
"Yeah, I trust you, though." Buck adds, softer than his words have any right to be in this kind of situation. Softer than anything Eddie deserves.
tagging (no pressure): @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @buddierights @watchyourbuck @malewifediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @evanbegins @tails89 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @thewolvesof1998 @underwater-ninja-13 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @jamespearce9-1-1 @housewifebuck @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @buckaroosheart @messyhairdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom @weewootruck @rainbow-nerdss @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @disasterbuckdiaz @911-on-abc and anyone else who wants to do it <333
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asteroidzzzn · 9 months
Text
more than just a dream - 005, 6am
pairing: college!ellie x reader
synopsis: you transfer to a new school where you only know one person; your childhood best friend. he invited you to a beginning of the year party to meet some new people, but one person, in particular, catches your eye... his other best friend.
a/n: HALLOWEENNNNNN
genre: social media au, fluff
series masterlist -- previous chapter -- next chapter
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bria 🧚
HI WHAT COSTUMES R U ALL WEARING TO THE HALLOWEEN PARTY
jesseee 😙😙
hot dog with mustard
y/n
hot dog with ketchup
jesseee 😙😙
hehehehehe
y/n
hehehehe
bria 🧚
😭 anyone else besides those 2 answer pls....
dina
im gonna be ghostface !!
bria 🧚 ❤️ a message
bria 🧚
i love that omg
what ab u ellie?
ellie
eh idk i dont feel like dressing up
bria 🧚
BOOO boring tomatoes tomatoes
dina ❤️ a message
jesseee 😙😙 ❤️ a message
y/n ❤️ a message
ellie
HELP EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU GANGING UP ON ME/??!
y/n
come on u literally have to wear SOMETHING
its HALLOWEEN
jesseee 😙😙
yk who u kinda look like
pennywise
y/n ❤️ a message
ellie
YOU ARE A SICK MAN
ellie left the groupchat
jesseee 😙😙 added ellie to the groupchat
jesseee 😙😙
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ellie
??!?!?!
dina
HELP MEE
ellie if u dress up as pennywise ill actually pay u
ellie
how much r we talking ab......
dina
$20
bria 🧚 ❤️ a message
bria 🧚
PLEASE YOU HAVE TO
ellie
oh i will
$20 is $20
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dina 💋
hi do u know where y/n is? she spammed me a few minutes ago but i was talking to bria but now i cant find her anywhere
ellie
shes ob the table
singing and dacnging
ik shes wearung a hot dog costuke but she looks hotrn
so hot omh
dina 💋
oh ok so ur very drunk rn
ik shes wearung a hot dog costuke but she looks hotrn ur GONNEEE LMFAO i wont let u forget u said this
focus focus we'll talk later thank you ill go find her
ellie
mmkkhkkk cya
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jesseee 😙😙
do ygs know where y/n is
i havent seen her since the party last night and its 6 am already
bria 🧚
im with her rn i had to take her to the hospital
she fell off a table and broke her wrist
jesseee 😙😙
oh my god
ellie
holy shit is she ok?
dina
aw poor girl :(
bria 🧚
holy shit is she ok? yeah she will be
shes honestly more upset she didnt get to see u in ur pennywise costume...
ellie
oh thank GOD she didn't
i looked ridiculous
dina
ok miss 'idc what she thinks ab me'
ellie
dina this isnt the gc with just us and jesse
bria 🧚
uh is there something i dont know
ellie
oml no theres nothing just forget it
dina
oh shit
im sorry
dina deleted 6 messages
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a/n; this is my version of a cliffhanger.. also i just realized this is the halfway point in this series and they havent even realized they like each other...... LMFAOOO
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i enjoy slowburns a lot actually if u couldnt tell
it will get more interesting soon tho pROMISE
taglist: @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @elliesinterlude @fireflyels @trulygnomed @deluluwh-0-re @elliewilliamsmissingfingerss @emluvselandabs @ariianelle @jokerpokimoon @lonelyfooryouonly @lil-elliesgf @yuaaa05 @ourautumn86 @ucannotcompare
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moodywyrm · 1 year
Note
abby and reader being stupid friends both pining af all that sexual tension going on and they just snap at a friend's party kissing desperately 🫠🫠
feeling like abby's needy girl rn so let's fucking GO! listen to nasty by russ for the full effect <3
college au once again but one where abby lives w/ Manny n u two have been friends since like freshman year of college. basically attached at the hip, 'besties' but actually u two are so in love it's ridiculous. the tension has built up so much over the last three years that it's literally gonna be any day now that one of u breaks.
so Manny is throwing an end of the year party even though classes don't end for another like four weeks, he's just proactive like that okay. n of course he recruits u n abby to help him, mostly bc she lives with him so she has no choice, n u two are a packaged deal so neither did u. why is this important? why because it means u got ready at their place! so she sat there n watched u as u put on a slutty lil skirt n tight lil tank top, covered up only by her big ol' varsity jacket. watched as u put on sparkly makeup n cherry lipgloss, sprayed urself with her cologne bc it smells good (she canonically smells like pine) n put on shoes u didn't care about getting messy. so the party hasn't even started n abby is already shaking trembling screaming crying creaming her boxers because u look so fucking good and it's almost like she's claimed you (she has).
the night continues on n she sees u getting gradually more tired n annoyed with people, especially gross straight guys who keep trying to flirt with u and then getting pissy when u turn them down. rn she's standing with Manny in the kitchen, drinking a soda bc she wants to stay sober to take care of u (ur also sober bc yeah ur not getting drunk rn), when she sees another fucking guy walk up to u. her n Manny are both monitoring the situation like hawks, abby bc she is practically in love with u n Manny bc ur actually his bestie. so they both see when u turn him down n try to move towards abby, n the guy makes a grab at ur chest. they're both surging forward but before they or the guy can even complete their actions, u've elbowed the guy right in the sternum n kneed him in the groin, letting him fall to the floor like the pathetic lil trash he is <3
they're both very proud of u, so while Manny throws the guy out, abby takes u out to their lil backyard, both of u walking to the side of the house n leaning against the wall. she's being so tender with u, but honestly watching u handle that guy made her wetter than she'd like to admit. so, instead, she looks at u like :( n goes "u okay honey?"
n she's so close n so fucking pretty in the moonlight that u just nod, trying to erase that guy from ur memory and focus on the pretty girl in front of u. it's then that abby realizes how close u two actually are, with ur bare thighs in that tiny fucking skirt pressed up against the denim of her jeans, the warmth seeping through the fabric. ur chest is an inch away from hers, n with how she's leaning down to look at u, there are only a few inches between ur lips. she tries to stop herself from moving forward, but u see how she's trying to restrain herself n u finally, after three fucking years, say fuck it. n u grab her face, gently ofc, n pull her into u, pressing ur lips to hers n slotting one thigh in between her legs as she stumbles forward n presses ur back against the wall. u can faintly here nasty by russ starting up inside the house, n by god if it's not the perfect fucking song bc the way abby is gripping at plushness of ur waist n grinding against ur thigh is gonna turn u into a slut so fucking fast. u two are really fucking moving now, ur grinding against abby's leg now that she's eased it in-between the thighs she wants to dive into so fucking bad, n ur skirt is riding up fast. literally the only thing hiding u from prying eyes is the darkness of this area n abby's jacket. it's in that moment that abby pulls away, breathless, her lips all pretty n plumped up, but she looks so concerned when she looks at u.
'baby, I really, really fucking like you. this can't be just sex or a one time thing, not for me. we do this and you're my girl, officially.' n u just smile, smoothing ur hands against her upper chest like, 'always was and always will be, pretty girl. now take me upstairs please. our first time isn't gonna be in your backyard' n she's so fucking smiley n giggling like yes ma'am. readjusts ur clothing, but not before giving u a lil pat on ur covered cunt n kissing u again, before grabbing ur hand, kissing ur knuckles, n hauling u up to her room to give u absolute princess treatment. nothing but the best for her girl <3
(also nonnie I don't have mine updated so if u have an emoji at the end of ur message n it's like, an emoji anon thing I can't see it :( sorry )
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