#BUT HI HOLLY IS RIDICULOUS !

[marigoldgloriaswansong]

[btsgotjams27]

the back-up plan | jjk

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 💖

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.

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.”

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.

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?”

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.”

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.

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.

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?”

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?

“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.”

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.

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.

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.

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?"

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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?

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.

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.

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?

[daydaydayrk420]

Late-night lake dip

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) X Male reader

⚠️male reader, smut, nudity, bottom Kurt, in public ⚠️

🚨Minors and girls no not interact 🚨

I do not know how to write accents so you gotta use your imagination.

______________________________________________________________

It's the middle of the summer. The kids have been having fun and visiting the local pools. The Xavier mansion has been lively. It's amazing.

Not for Kurt. He feels like he's in hell. Summer and Fur don't match together. It's like he's having a constant heatstroke. He might as well be. At the moment he's in his bedroom wearing nothing but his underwear. There are three fans surrounding him. He doesn't use the school pool. Even if this is a school of mutants... Some of the people here still make fun and talk about how his body looks. Plus if Kurt went swimming he'd rather do it naked.

"Kurt!" The door swings open and hits the wall as Kurt's best friend walks in uninvited. Kurt lets out a yelp as he's scared out of his skin from the unexpected disturbance. "Y/n!" He huffed. "How many times will I have to tell you to knock!" Kurt cursed under his breath and stood up. Y/n doesn't respond as he's shamelessly looking at Kurt's naked fur. Kurt notices this and suddenly feels more exposed than he'd like to be. Of course, he doesn't realize the way Y/n is looking at him is more of a ' Holly god I want you' kind of look instead of an 'Ew look at that fur' kind of look.

Kurt grabs his blanket from the bed and puts it around his shoulders. Y/n looks at him confused as he fights the disappointment. "What are you doing?" He asks his furry friend. "What?" Kurt looks down. He must look ridiculous. There's no hiding how damp his fur is but the fact that he put on a blanket in this weather must seem stupid. "Oh um...Trying to cover up...?" It sounded more like a question than an answer. Y/n chuckles and closes the door. "It's just us Elf you don't gotta cover. " Y/n said and walked closer. Kurt groans. "Oh please don't tell me you're joining Logan on that nickname..." Y/n chuckles at his reaction.

"Why are you here?" Kurt asks and sheds the blanket. "I wanted to ask if you'll join me in the pool. " Y/n hummed and admired Kurt's body again.

If Kurt could blush he would. "You know I can't-" "Can't or won't." Y/n cut him off and crossed his arms. Kurt looks down. "I... I don't want to...Too many people..." Kurt said with his tail practically wrapped around his leg. "Kurt... I can't talk you into it can I." Y/n sighed as Kurt shook his head. "Alright, how about this. Tonight. You, me, outside swimming. How does that sound?" Y/n grinned. But Kurt hesitated. "Please?" Y/n ads. Kurt sighs and gives in. He could never say no to those beautiful eyes. Especially when they're pleading. "Alright. But just this once." Kurt fights the smile that's trying to form on his face as he watches Y/n punch the air in celebration.

"Where are we going? The pool is that way." Kurt asks confused. Y/n chuckles and keeps walking. "We're not going to the pool. " Y/n said as he continued walking through the forest surrounding the school.

"Then where?" Kurt looks around. "A spot I like to go to when I want to be alone." Y/n says with a smile.

"tada!" Y/n grinned and walked towards a beautiful lake with a small waterfall. He turns around and looks at his furry friend. He chuckles at the agape mouth and wide eyes while Kurt takes in the views. The full moon reflects in the middle of the lake.

"Wow..." Kurt finally managed to say. Y/n smiled and removed his shirt. Kurt froze as he watched. He doesn't know it but his tail starts to wag. The more y/n undresses the more his tail wags. Y/n is now butt naked as he walks towards the lake. His clothes left a trail behind him. He turns to look at Kurt. "Kurt? You joining?" Y/n teased.

For a little bit, y/n thought Kurt's face turned purple. Is he blushing? No. He can't... Can he? Kurt snaps out of it and starts to undress too. Now that he's seen his best friend and crush naked he doesn't feel so shy to undress too. Y/n chuckles and jumps into the cool water.

"Come on baby blue the water's perfect!" Y/n calls out. Kurt feels butterflies at the nickname and jumps into the water. He practically moans at the coldness of the water. His heated furry body welcomes the cold with open arms.

"I told you you won't regret it." Y/n smirked as he watched how blissed Kurt seemed to be to escape the heat of the summer. Kurt chuckles and floats around the water. "Cat got your tongue?" Y/n murmured as he quietly swam closer. Kurt only hummed in response.

Kurt is too focused on the water to notice Y/n sneaking behind him. Y/n smirks and uses both arms to splash a big wave at the blue man. Kurt yelps out before he's pulled underwater. "Hey!" He laughed once he swam up. Y/n laughs too and that's how the water fight starts.

The forest is filled with joy and laughter as the two best friends fight in the water.

They don't know how it happened. Or how they got into this position. But the water has turned calm. The forest is now filled with silence. Some forest animals have come out to eat and drink around the lake but Y/N and Kurt don't notice. They're too busy staring into each other's eyes as they float around. Almost as if they were dancing but the water makes them move slower. Y/n's arms are wrapped around Kurt's hips and Kurt's arms are wrapped around Y/n's neck. The moonlight makes Kurt's yellow eyes shine. They don't say a word.

They've stopped moving. They just stand in the middle of the lake staring into each other's eyes. They seem so still even a family of ducks swims by without feeling threatened. That's until the water forms waves from Kurt's tail which has started to wag after y/n brushed some stray hair behind his pointy ear. The ducks fly off at the unexpected disturbance.

There it is again. His cheeks are turning purple. Y/n's eyes leave Kurt's and look at his cheeks instead. "You're so beautiful" He whispered as he caressed the fur on Kurt's cheek. Kurt smiles sheepishly.

Y/n leans in but stops halfway and looks into Kurt's eyes as if asking for permission. Kurt's breath hitches and his eyes fall on his friend's lisp. He looks back up into his eyes and leans in too.

Their lips meet halfway. Y/n could swear he heard the fireworks spark but then he was sprayed by water and realized it was just Kurt's tail splashing the water as it wagged incredibly fast. Y/n chuckles and deepens the kiss.

Kurt's tail is wagging so much it makes his hips move. Y/n groans as he feels that and reaches down to grab the base of Kurt's tail to stop his hips from moving. Kurt whimpered and Y/n took that as the opportunity to push his tongue into his mouth.

Kurt moans. His ears pin back in embarrassment. Y/N smirks and kisses down his cheeks to his jaw and eventually his neck. "Moan for me again." He whispered and nibbled on the furry crook of his neck.

Kurt shivers and whines. That makes him a lot more embarrassed and covers his face. Y/N chuckles and takes Kurt's hands from his face. "Don't hide from me baby blue" He teased. Kurt really is blushing now. His cheeks look like a beautiful fresh blueberry. Y/n smiles and admires his face as he keeps holding his wrists. Kurt gives him a sheepish smile. He doesn't know where to look so his eyes just dart around his friend's face.

Y/n smiled and kissed him again. It doesn't take much time before they're sucking on each other's tongues and running their hands over their bodies. They can feel their dick get hard against each other. Kurt moans and wraps his tail around Y/n's leg. Y/n runs his hands down to cup Kurt's ass. He runs his fingers through his fur as he pulls back far enough to look at his face. Kurt whines at the touch. He looks up at his best friend.

"God you're so beautiful" Y/n grunts and lifts him up by his thighs. Kurt gasps and wraps his legs around his hips. Y/n keeps one arm under his legs while the other explores the fur on his back. "So soft."

"Liebling..." Kurt whispers. Y/n looks at him. "Yes, Blue?" "Make love to me."

And so he did. Y/n lifts his blue friend up by his thighs and kisses his neck. "Let me show just how much I love you." He murmured into the soft fir of Kurt's neck who only whined in response. Blue legs wrap around the other's mid-section. Kurt lifs Y/n's face to pepper it with kisses. Y/n smiles, caresses his lower back with one hand, and slowly lowers it lower and lower.

"May I?" Y/N murmured as he circled Kurt's hole. Kurt shivers and nods. Y/n pushes one finger in slowly and carefully. The blue man lets out a quiet moan. Y/n takes his time. Making sure Kurt is comfortable and in no pain. Kurt on the other hand is thriving. It's better than he imagined. His tail is yet again wagging but none of them cares. He trails kisses over y/n's neck which are followed by occasional moans.

Once Y/n worked three fingers in Kurt grew impatient. "Liebling please." He whines. Y/n chuckles and removes his fingers and grabs his dick. He lines up. "Ready Darling?" Kurt nods in response.

Y/n pushes the tip in and slowly pulls Kurt's hips down. They moan at the same time. "I've wanted to hold you like this for so long." Y/n moans into Kurt's neck who moans in response and wraps his arms around his neck tighter.

"Please move." Kurt whines and y/n nods. He starts slowly. Pulling halfway out and pushing back in. He repeats that a couple of times until he pulls out almost all the way so only the tip is in and pushes back in.

"More" Kurt whines. So he gets more. Y/n speeds up his thrusts. Kurt's moans grow louder. The animals surrounding the lake suddenly stop and look toward the source of the sound.

Kurt can't stop the moans and German curses spilling past his lips as Y/n speeds up. Y/n catches his blue friend's lips in a sloppy kiss.

"Schatz." Kurt moans. "I'm close." He whines and buries his face in his neck. Y/N moans and angles his hips. Kurt cries out. He found the spot that makes Kurt crazy. Y/n makes sure to hit that spot every time. Kurt cries out and covers their bellies in cum. But because they're in the water it doesn't matter. Y/n follows shortly after. Kurt wraps his tail around Y/N's hips and pants. They hold each other like that for a while.

"Liebling.." "Yes blue?"

"I... What are we...?" Kurt asks. Y/n smiles and caresses the fur on his jaw. "What do you want us to be?" "Boyfriends." Kurt replied without hesitation. Y/n smiles wider. "Will you be my boyfriend then?" "Ja."

[pedrospatch]

when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these damn things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but heartache this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

[theneverfadinglands]

Heraldic devices; Fëanorions

Maedhros: It was quite a challenge to design Maedhros' device. He is the heir and therefore it must show, but it also have to contain his personality. Which I always interpreted as more elegant and simple, neat. I wanted to incorporate the motif of rose. Since I connect Maedhros (and Nerdanel) to roses. I wanted to incorporate both the star of Fëanor and rose of Nerdanel.

I. the first picture shows the device of Maitimo as he used in Valinor

II. Maedhros after Fëanor's death, high king of the Noldor in Beleriand. Used briefly of course. I believe it was designed by Maglor and he used it during Maedhros captivity. Maglor was not thrilled to be a king and so I can imagine he would use Maedhros' a lot. It has 16 points, just as Finwë's heraldic device.

III. Maedhros after his abdication, lord of Himring.. a lot of point for a lord, right? Fingolfin had 8 as well.

I. Makalaurë, I remember holly leaves were mentioned in Return to Aman (written by @cycas ). Since then they stuck in my head as Maglor's heraldic device. Of course they are golden. Picking themes for Maglor was not hard at all. The red circles are supposed to signify the berries of holly.

II. Maglor after Maedhros' capture. I am not sure if he was crowned the high king of the Noldor or not. He is not listed anywhere as one, it seems to me he managed to escape the kingship. After Maedhros' rescue, the golden circle was reduced in size as to not touch the sides. Maglor used this device in Beleriand and never used the Valinorean one again.

Celegorm, I was a little unsure what to choose, but it have not took me a long time to pick silver pine cone. I could not find any suitable animal-related theme, everything looked wuite ridiculous. I suppose even this look a little ridiculous. I was also unsure if I should go all the way and use the green or pick someting more inline with his siblings. However, Celegorm is odd one in the group really. He is Fëanor's third son and still deserve distinct design, not to be confused with any other. 4 points obviously, his device follows the conventional rules.

Caranthir, oh Caranthir, I always have a problem with him. Caranthir is the one I do not know much about. I do not have headcanons about him, I just do not know. I could not pick anything personal for him and there are not informations about him. We know Celegorm, Amrod and Amras were hunters, Maedhros is the heir, Maglor is golden and musician, who is Caranthir? He is known for his temper, the dark Finwë.

I chose dark moody colours and many many stars. Instead of one central star he has 7 of them. His device is wuite formal. Of course the reason is that I did not know what to do with him. Yet what is the in-story reason? Maybe he used to have different device in Valinor, but began to use this one in Beleriand. He must have some very good reason to slap so many stars in. Maybe because he managed the trade, he used this neutral, formal and very "Fëanor's son" screaming device?

I think that his Valinorean device might have some moths. Moths are suitable dark and moody.

Curufin, it was not hard to design. I wanted his device to be similar to Fëanor's, yet it shall not outshine Maedhros. Technically the device break rules as there are 8 sides touching, but Curufin was never a king. I think the yellow can be ignored as a "point." After all the same motif is featured in Maedhros'. I wanted to reapeat the Maedhros theme, because although he is the oldest, Curufin is most similar to his father.

For Curufin I had chosen gems as symbols. I think diamnods are very fitting for him. I had it on my mind the entire time from the beginning. The question was only where I am going to place them. I think the inspiration by Fëanor is also clear. I am not sure how Curufin felt about it later... he is always Atarinkë.

I have to do Celebrimbor too, but I think he had more than one device.

Amrod and Amras, I went a little wild with them. They are the youngest and therefore can have some fun. As such I chose more creative devices. Red maple for Amrod (because aesthetic, not really for the meaning) and oak for Amras. Oak is in many cultures regarded as the kingly tree. I think the devices are both similar enough and different enough to denote their relationship as twins while maintaining separate identities. Honestly Amros' device and Maglor's kingly Beleriand device are my favorites.

I would like to do Fingolfinwean and Finarfinwean devices as well, but I am not sure I'll have enough creativity in me.

[mikichko]

141 x white reader recs? 👉🏻👈🏻

Hi nonnie 😊

I'm not going to lie, this ask bewildered me a bit! I wasn't sure if you were being serious or not since this fandom is basically 90% white. Going by those numbers I'd assume there's a plethora of white content for you to enjoy, love.

I can't imagine that an ask for recommendations of an demographic that isn't typically featured in reader inserts would stir you up so much. Right?

Regardless, I do truly love to talk about my favorite writers so here is a list of writers (in addition to the previously mentioned) whose work I absolutely adore.

In no particular order:

🍂 Early

Starting off strong with the individual that sucked me into this black hole of a fandom. I absolutely love Early's writing style and their focus on fat readers. I reread a ton of their works constantly! Currently The Space in Between is what I read at the gym when I'm doing my hot girl walk 🥰🥰 Ensnared me with this Current Fave: The Space In Between

🍂 PFHWrites

Following it up with the second cod blog I ever followed, give it up for P! I absolutely adore P's works and the thought that he puts into the creechurs 🐈 (P patented term) in his works. Writes incredible pieces for transmasc!readers that I absolutely adore Ensnared me with: No clue actually! I just think of P as this entity that one day appeared on my tumblr dash and whose work I've been in love with for ages (tbh it was probably porn but...) Current Fave: Binders and Boyfriends

🍂 glossysoap

Glossy, my beloved Soap worshiper in arms 💕 Glossy has an incredible knack for writing that's amplified by her vibrant personality and how much she uplifts other writers in the community. I adore her to death and am so glad we have such a great writer like her in the fandom Ensnared me with: Bloody Shame (kyle fuckers rejoice) Current fave: Pushing Boundaries

🍂 kyletogaz

Our wonderful beautiful Jess 🥰💕 Resident Kyle and F1 enthusiast I have suuuch a fun time reading Jess' works (even when she is emotionally destroying me ;-;) I have her post notifications on so I don't miss a single work :') Ensnared me with: Simon fixing your attitude Current fave: Sharing is Caring

🍂 swordsandholly

Holly's Cherry Bomb 🍒 series has me by the goddamn neck right now! I am actively choking as I type this out because of how fucking good it is. Her depictions of Simon in 'Double Date - Double Down' solidified me as a fan from the beginning Ensnared me with: Double Date - Double Down Current fave: Cherry Bomb

🍂 stellewriites

Stelle's wonderful personality shines through so brightly that when I followed her I didn't even realize she wrote. When the cognizant part of my brain finally kicked in and I finally realized she was a writer I berated myself for not reading her work earlier. So happy that I stumbled upon her and her work 💞💖 Ensnared me with: Amazing personality <3 Current fave: Choices Made in Anger

🍂 syoddeye

Sy is another writer who I just cannot remember how I came across them! Honestly, someone else probably reblogged one of their works and I fell in love with their writing style. Whoever it was I am immensely thankful. Sy makes works that are so marvelous my brain gets more wrinkly every time I read something of theirs ❣ Ensnared me with: It's a black box I'm so sorry Current fave: The Lift (this is lowkey my motivator before the gym)

🍂 dragonnarrative-writes

Dragon's works have got me foaming at the mouth. Another creator who I have no clue how their works came onto my timeline but all I know is that I am so thankful. Every one of their works is a treat akin to indulging in something ridiculously delicious. 💘 Ensnared me with: Autumn Embers Current fave: Autumn Embers (particularly Part 3A ;))

🍂 indigosunsetao3

Indigo was actually recommended to me under a post lamenting the lack of Alex Keller works! And boy am I glad she was because the way she writes about Alex Keller makes me rattle at the bars of my enclosure for this white man. Absolutely amazing content that I am so happy to have been told about her! 💓 Ensnared me with: Older CIA Alex Keller Current fave: Move In Day (Alex Keller fuckers rejoice)

I am missing so so so many incredibly writers who I adore as well but because of time constraints I didn't have time to include them. Honestly, I'll probably just keep adding this list and using it as a rec list!

This fandom has been blessed with so many folks who create marvelous pieces for readers across the spectrum. We're fortunate that writers have cultivated such an accepting space 💕

[bpdjennamaroney]

Will and Emma are having relationship problems because Will is not taking COVID seriously enough ("Therapy"). The next day Will takes his frustration out on the glee club and accuses them of not taking COVID seriously enough (Finn doesn't understand germ theory and Brittany is QAnon.)

Will says, "You guys lack historical perspective. Back in the 80s and 90s there was a young gay composer named Jonathan Larson who saw disease and suffering all around him. When he found out he was afflicted with AIDS, he put all of his pain into the timeless and unreproachable work of art, RENT. RENT taught us about community and caring for one another and more importantly...it taught us that musicals can rock." Will sings the title song from RENT with Artie and Finn.

That night: Santana is fed up with lockdown restrictions and sneaks out of her house to visit Brittany ("Out Tonight"). Brittany is planning a big show that will blow the whole COVID conspiracy wide open. She previews it for Santana ("Over the Moon"). Santana is freaked out and breaks up with Brittany. Santana can excuse ignoring disease prevention guidelines but she draws the line at being Republican about it.

Also that night, Will tries to sleep with Emma but she's too COVID-cautious ("Green Green Dress"). She says maybe they need some time apart because of their different priorities.

While grocery shopping, Will runs into Holly Holliday. Holly is lighting scented candles in the middle of the store but for some reason all of them are defective/unscented ("Light My Candle.") Holly propositions Will. Will says he's seeing Emma, and Holly admits she also has a boyfriend.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Holly says. "Meet me at the basement of the swinger's club at 9:00."

Will shows up at the swinger's club and spots his old rival, Brian Ryan (the Neil Patrick Harris character). They glare at each other, then confront each other and it's revealed that Brian is Holly's boyfriend ("Tango Maureen.") She knew Brian and Will were old high school rivals and set all this up because she's into the whole enemies-to-lovers thing.

Will scolds her. "That is so cruel and manipulative of you. I can't believe you would do this."

Holly tries to convince him to live life to the fullest. ("Another Day.")

Eventually Will thinks about what proud openly gay icon Jonathan larson would do, and he has a threesome with Holly and Brian ("Contact," I'm afraid.)

The morning after, Will can't believe he kind of cheated on Emma/hooked up with Brian and really enjoyed it ("Real Life").

On Monday, Brittany and Santana are still broken up but sitting on opposite sides of the choir room is emotionally difficult for them ("Without You.")

On the way home from school, Kurt and Blaine are like "Aren't you glad we're not like Brittany and Santana, breaking up every 5 seconds over something stupid?" and they sing "I'll Cover You" but then they break up over something stupid.

Will contemplates his sexual awakening, torn between Holly+Brian and Emma ("Johnny Can't Decide/Come To Your Senses" mashup).

The tension in glee club is unavoidable.

"Mr. Shu, this is ridiculous," Rachel says. "Ever since you brought up RENT and Jonathan Larson, it's been nonstop hookups and fighting. Also, Jonathan Larson wasn't gay and he didn't die of AIDS! He was straight and died of some random heart thing."

"What? Jonathan Larson wasn't gay? So my sexual experimentation was under false pretenses?"

Will immediately calls and breaks it off with Brian and they argue ("What You Own").

The next day Santana says "I can't believe we caused this much fuss over a straight man, who died of a random heart thing."

"Wait, just because he was straight doesn't make his words less powerful," Finn says.

"You're right," Will says. "Maybe I'm bisexual." ("Louder than Words.") And then they all sing La Vie Boheme.

At some point Santana and Mercedes sing "Take Me or Leave Me" as their glee club presentation. (It's a four-part episode.) Also I think Gwyneth would have fun with Today 4 U, don't kill me.



[meieis]

Something not to be learned- Lute x Seraphim angel! Fem! Reader

My note: Y/N are constantly surprised in this fic, there is nothing we can do, anyway, I have been thinking about writing this as my fic for a long time, finally it is finished. It's something I've been thinking about writing for a long time and now ıt's here. This story's/fic's timeline when Vaggie was still an exorcist angel, though she is not mentioned here

Warning(?): swearing, Adam implicitly (actually explicitly) saying 'that thing', insinuations of sexual intercourse made by Adam. Finally, the reader was mentioned as a fem, but if you are a male or want to read as a male, think of the places where the reader is mentioned as a fem as if they were mentioned as a male.

Synopsis: After Adam confirms your feelings for Lute, he puts you in ridiculous situations to get you to confess your feelings for Lute. But in the end, Lute finds out about your feelings, but she still chooses not to tell you that she learned this

Adam had been strange lately, the absurdity of the nicknames he gave himself didn't get any better or less, the weird thing was that he acted as if he was suspicious of something, one day he asked you to join him while he was having something to eat again. "You're gaining too much weight," you said calmly. Adam stopped drinking the drink he was drinking after your words. "You're too skinny, am I saying anything?" He said playfully and leaned back "What do you think of Lute?" Hearing the question surprised you "well... Maybe cute...?" You say and Adam smiled when he heard this "Yes baby, my Danger Tits girl is cute, But what I'm asking is would you do that thing?" He made that gesture with his hands that symbolized female sexual intercourse. "I don't know if Lute is interested in women, though?" He says and then your eyebrows are furrowed. How could he dare to ask you this? You are his superior, you are superior to him. Noticing your confused looks, Adam's smile widens and he continues talking. "What's the matter, baby? Or are you shy?" You couldn't say anything. After a few minutes, when you got over the shock, you looked at him. "How dare you ask such a questio-" Adam cut you off, "What have you never do before?, look baby, everyone can do 'that thing' here, and besides... It feels good, I mean-" He said angrily. You looked at him angry, This was a warning to Adam not to continue. "Look, I understand the warning, but just tell me yes or no?" You sighed to calm yourself, covering your face to think. "Are you depressed?" Adem said as he continued to drink his drink and sit comfortably. "Yes, I would." When he heard this, he squirted the drink he drank from his mouth. "Adam! Eww" you said as you walked directly to the side where there was no bath, he still looked confused at the answer "holly shit... Really? " He said with surprise, you nodded.

And now you put up with his nonsense, he confirmed he's suspicions and sends you to ridiculous places with Lute, the love hotel is an example of this, he said we will have the meeting in the love hotel and you went knowing that he will not touch you and what do you see in the room Lute! You ask "What are you doing here?" You asked while looking at Lute "Oh, your highness... Adam called me here for the meeting" FUCK. That bastard, you ran out of the room directly slamming the door and quickly found him "Y/N! You told a man so quiet-" You interrupted Adam, and you say "What the hell are you doing?!" It took a while to calm you down.

But he didn't stop as he is now, standing in the empty meeting room, Adam told you that he wanted to have a meeting about hell and he didn't say why you didn't do it with Sera, but yes, right now you are here in strange silence with Lute... "why don't you sit down?" You asked in the most polite tone you could. Lute shrugged. “Thanks for asking, but there's no need.” she said in an emotionless tone. You felt too embarrassed to look at Lute. In fact, it was only because of Adam's efforts to get you closer to her. You sighed. “Lute... So i-" she interrupt your speak "don't worry about the love hotel thing. It's just sir's bullshit" she said emotionlessly and continued "i got a weird nickname around him, it's 'Y/N's bitch'" you're completely confused, a reason to kill adam again! You stood up "WHAT?!" You said in surprise, but Lute didn't even show any signs of emotion. She looked after you as you quickly left the room.

"you-" you said as you grabbed Adam's collar, which was a strange sight to the others "What?" He asked in surprise, you noticed the looks of humans, or rather angels, good souls and let him go, "Are you calling Lute 'Y/N's bitch'?" You asked with a frown, but this didn't change Adam's relaxed demeanor. "Look baby, I'm showing people that she's possessive, she have a Master~" he said playfully while pointing at you but you just covering your face with your hands, you groaned in anger. "chillax babe, We both know you love Lute" his smile grew when he got an exasperated look from you "I wish you didn't know this" you turned your back on him, Adam put his hand on your shoulder "You know, you have to get Lute to bed first or they'll catch-" you frowned at him "Fuck off Adam"

At that time, Lute was hiding and listening to these, she was definitely surprised, not by your swearing, but that is a reason for surprise... Did he just hear that you loved her, that is, HERSELF, it is impossible, you are a seraphim and she is an ordinary angel, no matter how exorcist angel she is... You are not on the same level, she is the low one not you but now she understands everything better, all that nonsense that Adam did... Everything was trying to bring you together and make you confess your feelings, Lute quickly returned to the meeting area and when she saw you coming, she acted like she didn't hear anything, she not told you your secret. It will hold for a while, but hearing this made her feel a feeling she's never felt before... Is this the bullshit they call love?.. she does not know

extra :

"Sir, can you stop calling me that nickname? We're in the middle of an exorcist thing." She said looking at Adam as she killed the sinners. "What's wrong 'Y/N's bitch'" Since she wouldn't take her anger out on Adam, she started taking it out on the Sinners. She thrust the exorcism weapon into and out of the corpse at least ten times "Chillax lute... Fuck" Adam said as he took a few steps back.

[bitterrobin]

You know what I've realized these past several months on Tumblr and just...years of consuming content?

It's pretty rare for the fandom to acknowledge Gotham as a city. A real, living city with people in it. Like, sure we always get cutesy posts about Batman or the others from outside perspectives or fics that include interesting ocs (I love u if you do that btw).

But what I mean isn't that. What I mean is: does anyone think of Gotham and its citizens as actual people? Because I've sure seen kind of the opposite.

I see constant arguments or heavily biased (mostly misinformed) posts regarding what Bruce does and how the Batman helps the city. That his riches would get lost in corruption and no one can save the city unless there's violence. You could try and make the argument, sure. But we've seen time and time again in comics that Bruce uses his money to the benefit of the city. We've seen in comics that he employs people who are disadvantaged and gives them opportunities. People know Bruce Wayne gives jobs and treats his employees well. He donates heavily to charities, creates his own organizations, funds Leslie Thompkin's clinic, and consistently updates the safety of his own buildings. People (at least post-Crisis) would know that Bruce Wayne did everything he could to save Gotham after the Cataclysm earthquake/No Man's Land - that he went up against Congress. Of course, not everyone would like Batman. Not everyone would trust the Wayne name. They'd see a stranger who prowls nightly and may or may not rescue you. They'd see the privilege of an old rich name who gets to exert his influence over the city. If you go to him for help, you go to him with the fear, and anticipation of rejection or with the knowledge that he will be safe.

I've also seen the (imo) ridiculous notion that Crime Alley citizens would trust the Red Hood. Maybe some would now, after the reboots and actual comic book evidence that he's doing something. But I cannot fathom living in a city with such heavy crimes occurring and then trusting what is essentially a cop. People don't know the Red Hood. They don't know Jason Todd. They would only know: 1. he has tried and succeeded various times to take over organized crime and drug routes 2. he can and will kill if he sees it fit. In some people's eyes, he would be a cop with even less judicial oversight. In some families, he would be the killer of their breadwinner, of their fathers or family members or lovers. A man with a gun. Eyes without a face. If you go to him for help, you go to him for blood.

This doesn't even begin to lay out the insane amount of vigilantes who live/operate in Gotham. The Batman is not the only figure. The Red Hood is not the only figure. If you boil down Gotham to only the conflict between these two characters, you miss the nuances and varied opinions of the city by miles. If you boil down Gotham to just Batman-affiliates, you miss even more.

For every person who doesn't trust Batman, there's someone who'd prefer Huntress. For every child who lives in fear but can't trust an adult, there's Robin or Batgirl. For an abused woman, there's other women out there who help: Catwoman or Black Canary or Holly Robinson. There's people who'd never trust a vigilante but want safety, they'd have Leslie Thompkins (who operates in Crime Alley) or Lucius Fox who could give them a job.

Not to mention, Batman is very obviously white. There would be some people who would rightfully mistrust white men, and would prefer figures like Orpheus or Onyx or Batwing or the Signal or Huntress (post-N52). There's the Creeper, who would be terrifying but some might prefer the monster over the man. There's Ragman, an explicitly Jewish vigilante who was literally called the Tatterdemalion of the Oppressed and trusted by the poor and homeless. There's Batwoman, Mother Panic, Spoiler, Nightwing, Red Robin, Azrael, Bluebird, the enigmatic idea of the Oracle, Anarky, Ghostmaker, Gotham Girl/Boy, Catman, Alan Scott-Green Lantern, Wildcat.

Hell, maybe someone who lives in Gotham would just straight up trust Superman or the Flash or Wonder Woman more than anyone else. Maybe they'd never once trust someone acting for a perceived view of justice and would just trust an employer like Two-Face or the Riddler or any mobster.

I'm stressing my point here: when you write anyone who lives in Gotham City, keep in mind that they don't know they live in a comic book world. Secret identities are foreign to them, they only know the base actions of each vigilante. Each person's opinion will heavily vary. Every experience colors their view of the city and vigilantes as a whole. Just, idk, widen your horizons and consider about what someone living in a place like Gotham would really think.

To that end, read the comics!!! Research actual cities!!! Take in experiences and history!!! It's all interesting and just adds so much more.

You want one comic that shows Bruce helping Gotham and the various views of Gothamites, read Gotham Knights #32, published in 2002 and titled "24/7." Read it online illegally if you have to!!

[madockisser]

Hi, I just finished reading Queen of nothing and I was looking through the books again.

The scene with the faerie fruit in TCP Carden throws the salt away (the antidote), I find that quite odd

Although as he's returned human servants before pricking their fingers seems like an easier thing than making them eat something salted?

Maybe there's no significance to it, it's just something that sticks in my mind for that scene and wondered if you had any thoughts on it

short cardan analysis / why did cardan throw the salt

hi! i am not sure i understand the question completely, so feel free to send another ask abt this, but i assume that you’re wondering why he threw the salt in the first place? i doubled this as a short cardan analysis/ scene analysis! hope u don’t mind!

if you’re asking: why bother with the salt at all, when jude has salt in her blood? not sure, but salting food destroys ensorcellment on that food, so she has to keep it on her anyway, opposed to pricking her finger and putting her blood on her food lol, BUT as for cardan..

at the faerie fruit scene, cardan does not yet recognize his feelings for jude as anything that isn’t hatred.

since jude is consuming his every thought, he’s frustrated, and eager to make her obey him, because he thinks that when she submits to him, stops opposing him, that he can finally stop thinking of her.

and so, he pushes valerian off when he’s atop her, choking her, bc he never wanted her to die. that is very clear to him from the start, he never wants to be like dain. but it’s unclear to jude bc she’s biased.

holly states that if cardan were a better person that he would’ve found a way to stop his friends sooner, which is true, but unfortunately, because of his upbringing, he is not.

now, he throws the salt in the air scattering it among the grass, because finally, he thinks that under influence of the faerie fruit, jude is going to submit to him.

in part, he does want to see her humiliated, brought down low, for bringing him down low with her. another part of him does want to see her hurt.

which is obvious. cardan hurts and humiliates faeries throughout the high and low courts. it’s just what he does.

but as the events progress, as nicasia makes her undress and humiliates her further, cardan finds himself irrationally upset.

because it turns out that cardan does not in fact like seeing jude hurt or like seeing her humiliated as he thought.

bc he hadn’t recognized his feelings for her yet. until i suspect, now, due to this scene.

anyway, i must sum up cardans character to help ppl understand, prince cardan acted as though he had no heart for a long time, to protect himself. because when he did act like he had a heart, ppl hurt him. his mother, dain, balekin, nicasia, locke even.

and so by pretending to not feel for jude made things easier, but when they both clashed and fought, he realized more and more how jude takes up his every thought, even when she shouldn’t. even when he was w nicasia.

and when jude was hurt and humiliated, he realized not just the surface level feelings of desrire, but how much he cared for her. how much he didn’t want to see her hurt, see her humiliated.

opposed to the many folk he hurt and humiliated and cast from court. bc jude was different. she wasn’t a courtier that bowed and smiled and faked at flattery, which he grew to find insufferable and angering.

she found him undeserving of princely treatment, and tried her hardest at fitting in, even when she very clearly was human. even when he thought that it was pointless and ridiculous.

cardan finds jude fascinating for many of her qualities, but as we see in htkoelths, this is one of them. and one of the first qualities in her that catches his eye. her determination. her unwillingness to give up and to submit.

which he didn’t understand, bc he’s fae and a prince and he doesn’t have to fit in, and she was a human and a bastard, so why put any effort into anything at all? why work hard for a short life? cardan does not understand humans, he’s a child, and he only interacted w glamoured humans before her and val moren.

anyway, it seems that jude and taryn were mostly left alone in gentry classes by cardan specifically, while valerian would harass jude himself (ex: when he stole her pen and madoc replaced it w a ruby one). until taryn started seeing locke which made nicasia upset.

that is when they full on started harassing them.

at this point cardan cared for nicasia(despite the cheating) which he admitted he hurt jude and taryn for her sake when he was kidnapped by jude,, but as a facade he pretended at wanting to hurt the twins just for funsies.

until he didn’t anymore, and it was fueled by jude’s “audacity” to fight back, and his hatred-desire for her.

meanwhile, valerian was struggling w the same hatred desire. except like 1000x more twisted and sick. bc he truly wanted to hurt and kill her. he is very unseelie.

and nicasia is searching for any opportunity to bring the twins low for taking locke from her.

and locke wants to make a game out of hurting taryn and jude and nicasia AND cardan (LOL) bc he knows that cardan wants jude, so he starts “seeing her” which drives literally everyone; taryn, nicasia, cardan, and perhaps even valerian mad (LOL) bc he’s a cunt

BUT the point i’m trying to make is that cardans friends ARE NOT really his friends bc they all wanna hurt him. intentionally or not. if it sates their desires then they’ll take it.

if cardan had started showing his care for jude.. i mean. it would be over. they already want an excuse to hurt jude as is, cardans just a bonus. and locke was actively already doing that, since he was the only one who had yet realized how cardan felt for her. if nicasia and valerian had realized?

i don’t think jude would’ve survived. but i do think that valerian did sorta know that cardan wanted her, but i think when he realized it was more than lust was when he crashed out and went to kill her.

why? bc, jude had always payed singular attention to cardan when they were harassing jude and taryn as a group, but to jude it was all “i hate cardan i hate cardan” and for cardan it was all “i hate jude i hate jude”

and valerian wanted jude, he wanted her to be as affected by his hurting her as it did when cardan hurt her. but it never did.

i think he realized this and crashed out and got high and tried to kill her.

so in short, i think he threw the salt as a guise to his buddies, to 1, appear as though he didn’t have a heart (like usual) so that they wouldn’t realize he cared for her and hurt her more bc of it, and 2, he knew jude’s blood has salt content, so he could always (and did) resort to that, and 3 bc he thought that he wanted jude hurt and humiliated, but as it was happening, he didn’t like it and began realizing how he truly felt for her

below are holly blacks official annotations, which are canon, so pls read the pen markings!! very important!!

this was SUPER messy i literally just threw this together the second i saw it so i’m sorry! hope this helped tho!! 🫶🫶🫶 feel free to add on!

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Wrapped 🎁

Jason Todd x reader

A/N: another one for Jason!! I love writing for him. I definitely need to do it more. This is the second fic for my Christmas event Fi's Christmas Market ☃️ ! I hope you enjoy some Holly Jason fluff!

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, overall very sweet and domestic! Jason being excited to make fun of Bruce, FLUFF.

Wordcount: 3.3k

Thank you to @certifiedredhoodlover for helping me pick out the presents for Tim and Damian <3

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

"G'morning, Baby," you stirred slightly when his sweet voice softly called out to you. You were firmly in his grasp, your oven of a boyfriend keeping you nice and toasty.

His hands gently stroked along your back while you nuzzled closer to his chest. He was trying to wake you, but his soft touches, cozy heat and comforting voice really weren't helping his efforts.

"Ya need to wake up, sweetheart." The sleep heavy in his voice. His heartbeat was steady, lulling you back to sleep. "Don't wan' to.." you mumbled, scooching impossibly closer.

Jason chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "It's snowing." He whispered, you could hear the smug smile that was probably plastered on his face.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he said those words. He knew how to push your buttons. Your eyes shot open and and clumsily scrambled to sit up.

"What, What, really?" You slurred, rubbing at your eyes. He motioned to the window with his head and his heart melted when your eyes lit up as soon as you spotted the little flakes elegantly cascading from the sky. With a gasp and a sparkle about you, you were on your feet in a second, rushing to the window.

"It is snowing!" You beamed, before turning to him. "We wanted to go holiday shopping today, it's perfect! Come on!" You pulled him out of bed, or at least you tried, and he begrudgingly left his warm sanctuary, whining about the cold. But if he was honest with himself, he'd go out in his pajamas if it made you happy.

Jason dragged his sleepdrunk body to the kitchen for some well needed coffee. You were whirling around the apartment, getting ready and finishing off the shopping list. He finished his coffee and yawned while stretching. You stood in front of him with a shocked expression on your face.

"What are doing? Why are you not ready yet?" The disbelief in your voice made Jason's brows furrow. "Babe, we got up 10 minutes ago. You haven't even had breakfast. We've got the whole day, calm down, okay?" He placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed your nose, which made your face scrunch up in the cutest way possible. Your narrowed your eyes at him and walked to the fridge without breaking eye contact.

"You have 30 minutes, Mister." He shook his head at you when you stuffed a piece of toast in your mouth and washed it down with Jason's coffee. "Wha- Hey, that was my coffee!" He exclaimed, taking the mug away from you.

"30 minutes!" Your voice came out muffled, courtesy of the piece of bread, as you made your way to the living room to wait for him on the couch.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You were scrolling on your phone, looking for some of the gifts you knew you wouldn't be able to get in store. He came into the livingroom, grabbing his keys and phone.

"Alright, you got your list?" Jason clapped his hands together, resulting in you looking up at him. You let out a gasp of awe when you saw him. You'd bought him a red beanie for the cold seasons but he never wore it, until today that is. He always refused, reasoning he didn't get cold and he'd look ridiculous. It was quite the opposite.

"You're wearing it! Oh my god, you look so cute!" You beamed, practically jumping from your seat on the couch, grabbing his face and peppering kisses over his cheeks.

"You look adorable, I could literally eat you!" You laughed between kisses, his face squished in your glove clad hands. "Babe, it's just a hat." He stated, albeit a little muffled as your hands were still firmly planted on his cheeks.

"I know, but it looks so good on you! Your white streak is peaking out, and it makes you look like a candy cane!" You squealed. No matter how hard you'd tried, you couldn't keep in your excitement. His brows furrowed at your statement as he grumbled quietly, but you could feel his face heating up even underneath your gloves.

"'M not a candy cane..." he mumbled, lightly offended. Well, actually, very offended. A pout settled on his lips.

"You are, but you're my candy cane, and only mine." You whispered with a sweet grin on your face, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before elegantly twirling out of his embrace to check your bag one last time. Jason smirked, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leaned against the counter.

"If me wearing a hat gets you like that, I wonder what else I could wear..." he pondered, stroking his chin. "I guess you'll have to find out." You said with a cheeky smile.

"Are you ready? Let's go," you held out your hand to him, and he took it in his in the blink of an eye.

Jason loved holding your hand. It was his favorite thing to do, no matter where you were or what you were doing, his hands would be touching yours in some kind of way. He would play with your fingers when watching TV or reading. It was mostly subconscious, but it was a cute habit.

"Are you sure we can't take the car? It's freezing outside!" He reasoned, keeping you in your place when you wanted to step out the door. "But it's snowing! And you're basically a walking furnace, you'll be fine!"

"If I get a cold, you're taking care of me." He grumbled before letting himself be dragged out the door by you.

Jason truly was a man of mystery to you. He wouldn't give a shit when he'd be shot and bleeding out, but god forbid he got a cold. He acted like the world was ending or he was dying. You did enjoy doting on him and taking care of all his needs but his very dramatic 'This is it. This is my end!' talks made you roll your eyes.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You walked through the nicely decorated streets, the snowflakes falling from the sky and covering Gotham as well as yourselves in a powdery blanket. Glancing over to your boyfriend, you couldn't help but giggle. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, matching his beanie. He had his shoulders pulled up a little, trying to cover some of his face with his scarf.

Your hands were still intertwined and shoved into his jacket pocket. He wiggled his mouth free from his cozy scarf.

"What's on your list, sweetheart?" He asked, his warm breath turning into a small cloud in the chilly air.

★

You were sitting at your kitchen table, the blank piece of paper that should've been a list by now starring you mockingly in the face. You sighed, resting your chin in your hands. "I don't know what to get them, Babe."

Jason was cuddled up on the couch, book, and tea in hand. "Doesn't really matter that much." He muttered, all of his attention on the book as his eyes were glued to the pages. "Yes, it does!" You argued,"It's Christmas. What are you getting them?" He took a sip of his tea, still captured by his book. "My presence at the dinner table, and if they're lucky, a hug."

You rolled your eyes. "You're not helping." You grumbled, your head falling forward onto the table. You'd been at this stupid list for weeks, but you couldn't come up with a single idea what to get them. Especially his younger brothers, Tim and Damian. You'd barely seen them, so picking a present that was useful and enjoyable for them was proving to be a real struggle.

"It really doesn't matter that much, I mean it. You could get each of them a card that says 'I'm proud of you' and they'd cry. So, it's your pick, really." He shrugged, flipping to the next page. You sighed again, closing your eyes. At this rate, you'd maybe get them a present next Christmas.

"I want to get them something personal, Jay. Something that means something to them."

Jason looked at you this time, his gaze over the top of his reading glasses.

"My point still stands."

You groaned, sagging into your chair. "Why is your family so difficult?!" You complained, sitting back up properly as you started to scribble some things down on the paper.

"Trauma." His response was blunt, his eyes were back on the book, his mind in whatever fantasy world he was reading about.

"Right."

You watched him for a little while. Calm breaths, the occasional grin or raise of his brows. "What's so interesting in that book, huh? Barely looked at me when we were talking."

"Hm?," his head turned towards you, obviously not listening to you. "Oh, sorry, s'Mister Darcy." You made an approving noise. "Carry on." Who could resist Mister Darcy? Not even Red Hood could, it seemed.

★

"Well," you began, pulling out the little piece of paper from your bag,"for Dick, I want to go to the record store and see if I can find him something new, preferably vintage. Alfred desperately needs a new apron, and I saw one a couple of weeks ago that'd be perfect for him. Tim gets a coupon to get the Manor for himself for an entire day-" Jason's brows furrowed, and he interrupted you.

"How the hell are you gonna achieve that?"

"You do what I say, Alfred would gladly do me a favor, and I think Bruce is secretly a little scared of me and I will use that to my advantage. And Damian.. I haven't thought that one out yet. I'll bribe him somehow. I think he likes me more than he let's on." You laughed.

He looked quite impressed before a smile settled on his lips. "You're a brilliant woman, do you know that?" He pressed a kiss to your temple, smiling against your skin.

"Thanks, Baby. You tell me everyday." You giggled, looking up at him. It surprised you haven't run into anything or anyone yet, your eyes were on Jason like he was the only one in the world. And he was, at least for you.

"I do? Well, I'll keep doing it." The smile he gave you was so soft, something only you got to see. "Damian gets a Katana with a burgundy handle. We have to pick it up from the jeweler, I had them engrave Titus on the blade." You continued, folding over the top of the list, which peaked Jason's interest.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Why did I do what?"

"That sneaky fold over." He pointed to the list.

"Oh, well, that's your present. Don't want you seeing what it is yet," you grinned, making him pout.

He let out a small huff, eyeing the piece of paper in your hands before trying to snatch it away from you. You quickly pulled it out of his reach and stuffed it back into your bag.

"Hands off!" He grumbled quietly under his breath but quickly let it go when you reached your first stop.

You looked through the dozens and dozens of boxes filled with record vinyls, trying to find the perfect one for Dick. The poor lighting and overcrowded aisle didn't help your cause. You did have to give credit to the interior design, it looked like it came straight from the 70s. You were basically digging for gold at this point, and gold did you find.

You'd picked out an original 'A Night at the Opera' vinyl by Queen, and you'd also found 'Crises' by Mike Oldfield and you decided to get both, hoping Dick would like them. Jason assured you that he would as his older brother adored you. He'd said you were a fresh breeze to the family, and he already loved you just for making his little brother happy.

He was the first to really trust and hang out with you, easing your nerves about fitting into the family. You could already see Dick and yourself jamming out to the tunes together.

The next stop was Home Depot. You'd gone there for a new whisk and a set of kitchen towels and had spotted the perfect gift for the resident Butler of Wayne Manor. It was a little cheesy, you had to admit, but you had a feeling Alfred would really enjoy this gift.

"They have to be here somewhere, I know they are.." you mumbled, searching around in the kitchen section. "Aha! There they are." You pulled Jason with you towards the back, and he had to be careful to not knock over any of the ceramic decor pieces.

"Jeez, why are these aisles so small.." he tried to make himself as small as possible, not only that but he had to keep the shopping back from the record store in mind as well. He couldn't really complain about that though, as he insisted on carrying it for you.

You held up the navy apron to show him the embroidery on the front. It said 'King of the Kitchen' and it had a little crown on top of it as well. "He's gonna take that to his grave." Jason grinned, before breaking into a laugh at the apron. "It's perfect, isn't it? I immediately thought of him when I saw it." You joined your lover, laughing in the back of the kitchen section, earning a stern look from a bypassing lady.

You stood in line at the register in the craftstore after having picked out some nice paper, sparkly pens, some stencil cutters, and a little bit of glitter for Tim's present.

"Don't know if Tim is fan of glitter." Jason said, looking into your little shopping basket. "Well, I am, so he's gonna have to deal with it." You huffed, moving further in line. He put his hands up defensively, as much as he could at least, since he was carrying the bags, and moved with you.

"What about B?" He questioned.

"I'm making him a card. It's gonna be an 'I'm proud of you' card." You sighed, not feeling to great about your choice of present for Bruce. Jason's eyes widened.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. I mean, what the fuck do you get a billionaire? Especially someone like Bruce. I just took your advice." You joked, bumping him with your elbow.

"I'm so gonna film that."

"Jason-"

"Nope, you can't stop me. Consider it a present from myself to myself."

You shook your head at him and sighed, but he definitely caught the smile that you were trying to hide. It would definitely be a memorable Christmas.

The last stop, thankfully, was the jeweler. Jason had been ready to go home 3 hours ago. The amount of people, crowded stores, and the bright lights were starting to overstimulate him.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up the Katana I had engraved." You smiled kindly at the woman behind the desk.

"Ah yes, and the neckl-" she began but you quickly cut her off with a finger to your lips and a motion to Jason with your head. He wasn't supposed to know wou were picking up his present too. The woman smiled knowingly and went into the back to get your orders.

You tapped your fingers against the counter as you were waiting. You glanced over to Jason, who was grinning like an Idiot. He knew that whatever it was that the woman was talking about was his present. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You didn't see or hear anything, got it?" You said firmly, earning an even wider grin from Jason.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Good."

The woman came back with a small bag and the Katana in hand. "It didn't fit in a bag." She chuckled nervously.

"No worries." You replied kindly, taking it from her, same with the small shopping bag. You pulled back the Saya and looked approvingly over the engraving of Titus at the base of the sword.

"Wow, that's amazing." He marveled, looking over your shoulder.

"Damian is so gonna cry." He giggled mischievously.

"Christmas is gonna be great this year." He grinned, making you sigh. There was no talking him out of teasing both Bruce and Damian. You could've definitely tried harder if you didn't enjoy it at least a little bit.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You were now back out in the cold, walking home after a successful shopping day. The small bag was securely in your hand, keeping it away from Jason. He couldn't stop eyeing it, though. Desperately wanting to know what was inside. You were just as excited to show him as he was to see, it was challenge trying to keep it a secret from him.

It was a gold chain with a pendant. The pendant almost looked like a coin, on one side your names were engraved with a little heart and the words 'forever and always'. On the other was a red Aster flower. You didn't just pick any flower, it had a meaning. It meant undying devotion. You wanted Jason to have the reassurance of your love and loyalty with him whenever he wore it, which you hoped would be everyday.

It was even more special since only the two of you would know what it meant. The language of flowers was something you were both interested in, having read books about it together. You had used it a few times when visiting the Manor, loving the confused looks of everyone, except Alfred who was quite the flower enthusiast himself.

Jason was talking to you about a couple of new books he wanted to get, which you'd obviously already stored in the back of your closet, waiting to be wrapped, when a little cart selling hot chocolate caught your eye.

"Can we get some hot chocolate, please?" You asked excitedly, already dragging him in the carts direction. "Baby, I'm tired, can we just make some at home?" You could tell he was exhausted, social interactions weren't easy for him, for either of you really. But the intoxicating smell of rich chocolate and whipped cream had taken over your senses, clouding your brain.

"Pleaseeee? It'll be quick, I promise! We'll cuddle for the rest of the evening, okay?" You pleaded, making your best doe eyes at him. He sighed and tried looking away from you as not to fall for your sweet look. He could never deny you anything. It might not be the healthiest of habits, but god, did he love spoiling you.

"Fine. But," he held up his finger,"only if I get head scratches as well."

"Deal!" You agreed quickly, pulling him to stand in line. It was going to be such a nice evening. Jason couldn't wait to be all cuddled up with you, your fingers gently running through his hair. He was going to heaven. You were his heaven.

Here you were, happily sipping on your hot beverage as Jason looked at you adoringly. "Thanks for the hot cocoa, Jay." You smiled, blowing on it to not burn your mouth.

"Of course, Princess. Here, let me get that for you." Your brows furrowed in confusion at his statement. He swiped his thumb over your lip, getting the bit of whipped cream off. His tongue went to his thumb and licked the cream off, and he hummed.

"Delicious." He smirked, making you grin. "If you wanted a taste, you could've asked." You smiled, pulling him down into a kiss by his scarf. He melted against your lips, making sure to mind your drink when he wrapped his arms around you.

The streets were lit up festively, the snowing was still falling gently, and you were here with your hot chocolate in hand and your lips on his. He was really glad he decided to stop for the hot cocoa. As if he had the strength to ever deny you anything.

He was under your spell and would do anything you'd asked of him. He was infatuated with you. He loved you. More than he could ever tell or show you.

Just like the presents under the tree, you've got him wrapped.

[andiwriteordie]

*clears throat* get ready for the most ridiculous thing i’ve ever conceptualized

not to get all up in my holly wheeler bullshit again but i’m gonna need you to imagine some kind of chaotic world in which holly in the 1990s watches home alone when her big brother and his boyfriend are home on thanksgiving break 

and then something happens where holly is home alone while everyone is out at work or doing something else and then things... get really strange.

there’s a faceless monster outside her window, and suddenly all the phones are not working, and the lights are super fucked up, and the last time holly remembers seeing anything this insane was when she was really little? and there was that weird wall at will’s home? or the trees were moving that one fourth of july?

but holly’s stuck. she can’t go outside or get a hold of anyone to help her.

so what does holly do?

she pulls a kevin mcallister.

and holly home alones the fuck out of this demogorgon.

[valentiinexo]

noticed something on my acofas reread that adds to the thought that it wasn’t elains black dress that was the issue, it was actually hewn city:

“There was no light in this place. There never had been. Even the evergreen garlands, holly wreaths, and crackling birchwood fires in honor of Solstice couldn’t pierce the eternal darkness that dwelled in the Hewn City. It was not the sort of darkness that Mor had come to love in Velaris, the sort of darkness that was as much a part of Rhys as his blood. It was the darkness of rotting things, of decay. The smothering darkness that withered all life.” (acofas chapter 6)

now let’s compare that to what was said about her in acosf:

“Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face…It sucked the life from her.”

suspicious how similar those are. what’s going on with hewn city that’s being hinted at here?

[berryhobii]

OMG HI😭😭i love your writing so much like im obsessed you’re so talented!!! i see your request are open and i just wanted to see if you do something where it’s after Yoongi and Y/N get into petty argument and Y/N is like “you know what? whatever” and gives Yoongi the silent treatment however, Yoongi hates being ignored (especially by his girl) so after giving her some space for a few hours and trying to get her to talk to him, he’s had enough oh the silence and decides to take matters into his own hands 🫣 I HOPE THIS MADE SENSE😭😭😭this thought has been running rampant in my mind for a week and i would love to see how you would write this ! there’s no rush, take your time if you don’t feel like it that’s TOTALLY okay i just want you to know that you’re writing is IMMACULATE, chefs mf kiss 🤌🏾 and that’s you are so freaking talented!! thank you for sharing your writing with us🥰🥰💕

Ahhhhhh! I love you so much! Your requests have given me such good ideas! I hope I fulfilled this one well. It turned into kind of brat tamer Yoongi who loves reader to pieces because I love everything about that trope. I really hope you love it bb!🩵🩵🩵

~

“Turn left up here!”

“I know where I’m going!”

“Obviously not! The parking lot will be full by the time we get there.”

Currently, you and your husband were on the way to your favorite store to spend some more of the gift cards you got at your wedding. You received so many and Yoongi made you agree that you’d only use them for important things.

New stuff for Holly counted as important, right? Of course it did.

A few months ago, you two moved to a new neighborhood which meant you didn’t really know where everything was.

As designated passenger princess, it was your responsibility to look hot, control the music and also manage the GPS to get you places but Yoongi wanted to trust his car’s GPS more than you. Ridiculous right?

He sighed. “I know where I’m going, okay? I don’t need your help.”

Your mouth dropped, a scandalized and dramatic gasp passing your glossed lips. How dare he?!

Crossing your arms over your chest, you slumped in the passenger seat. “You know what? Whatever, Yoongi.” You mumbled.

Silence enveloped the car, only the low sound of J.Cole’s melodic voice filling the space.

Yoongi glanced over at you, a smile threatening his lips at your pouty face. Ugh, you were such a spoiled little brat but he loved you so much. He actually took pleasure in riling you up and watching you get all huffy. Everytime he saw that princess personality, it awakened something in him—a need to both smother you with kisses and spank your ass until you were crying.

He reached over to place a large hand on your thigh. “Come on baby. Don’t be upset.”

You ignored him, fully turning your body towards the window. Uh oh, your full super bratty mode was activated.

“Are you really gonna ignore me?” He pondered.

No answer.

“Baby please. I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

He guessed he’d have to roll with this.

When Yoongi pulled into the parking lot of your favorite store, he tried to talk to you again but you were already out of the car.

Unfortunately, whenever you were upset with Yoongi, you got a sudden stroke of independence. He normally opened your door for you so he knew you were really upset when you did it yourself.

You didn’t talk to him the entire time through the store but you almost broke when you passed the pillows.

“Look baby. They have those pillows you were looking at.”

You picked one up before turning to Yoongi, opening your mouth to say, “yeah they…..” but you cut yourself off, remembering your vow of silence. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak but you held it. Tossing the pillows into the cart, you continued through the store, hands hurting from how hard you gripped the handles.

You couldn’t fight that skip in your heart. He remembered the pillows…..you told him about those weeks ago…..fuck.

You didn’t even notice Yoongi’s sly smirk as he walked behind you. He knew this silent treatment wouldn’t last long and he was honestly kind of amused. He knew you wanted to talk to him but your pride wouldn’t allow you to break first, not until you felt like it. He guessed he’d have to put up with your silent treatment a little longer.

Besides, with you walking ahead of him, he could stare at your perfect ass in those stretch pants all he wanted. His hand itched to grab it but he resisted. He didn’t want to make you more upset…..on purpose.

Yoongi ended up having to practically fight you with the bags, insisting he’ll put them back in the cart and push them to the car. You weren’t happy but you also didn’t argue, huffing and puffing your way back to the car.

Yoongi didn’t unlock the doors until he was finished putting the bags in the trunk which was getting you even more riled up. He knew you wanted to open your own door but doing it for you was just more amusing.

You squinted your eyes at him in frustration, throat burning with the desire to tell him off but you got in the car anyway, still completely silent.

The drive home was silent, as was the short journey up to your apartment. Holly greeted you both at the door, the wiggly dog jumping all over you. You didn’t even try to go through the bags, just heading straight for your bedroom where you could ignore Yoongi better. And of course, Holly followed you, not sparing Yoongi a passing glance.

Traitor, Yoongi thought.

He sighed but left you alone. He knew you weren’t that upset about what he said in the car. You were just being stubborn. He spoiled you too much. He could also be kind of passive(he’s working on it) as well so perhaps this was proving to be a little test for him.

After putting away the few grocery items and leaving the rest of your choices for you to sort through, he flopped down on the couch.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

He liked his peace and quiet as much as the next person but the noise you brought was different. He had grown used to hearing you singing under your breath or talking to yourself as you thought about dinner or the crash of all of your hair products falling because you had so many and they didn’t fit right in the hallway closet.

You had ingrained yourself into his life—you and your own perfect little storm of gentle chaos.

He missed you. Even though you were in the next room. He missed you.

Standing from the couch, he walked down the hall to the bedroom. He couldn’t hear anything on the other side.

His knuckles rapped gently against the wood before he opened he door. “Baby?”

He found you laid on your back on the bed, phone held over your face as you scrolled through social media. Holly was resting on his dog bed in the corner, little head lifting as Yoongi entered.

“Go.” He motioned to the door. Holly tilted his head in a way that solidified Yoongi’s suspicion that his dog was secretly a human. Human or not, Holly knew better than to stick around.

Yoongi closed the door before focusing his attention back on you.

He approached the bed, leaning a knee on it. You could feel the dip but made no move to acknowledge him.

“Baby please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. Of course I need you. I love when you tell me where to go but then you get distracted so we miss the turn. Remember we were late to our rehearsal dinner?”

Your lip twitched at the memory. Of course you do. The excitement of your wedding being the next day had you so caught up in your then fiancé that you couldn’t even focus on giving directions. And thanks to Yoongi being equally distracted by how stunning you were, he didn’t even think to make sure you stayed focused enough to give directions. He missed the exit twice before finally getting on track. Nevertheless, it was still a memorable evening with his family and close friends.

And the precursor to the rest of a wonderful life with you.

You still continued to ignore him. You could hear the sincerity in his apology but you wanted to make him sweat just a little bit longer.

But even Yoongi had a breaking point and you were crossing it.

“Baby.”

No answer.

Alright. Breaking point crossed.

~

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Ignoring me, “he scoffed with a shake of his head and landing a sharp smack to your ass. “You’re crazy.”

Your head was buried in the blankets, shoulders pressed against the bed and wrists held tightly in Yoongi’s grip.

His hips were slamming into your ass hard enough to hurt, his thick cock stretching your walls to their limit. He was thick enough to give you that slightly searing stretch and long enough to make you feel it all the way to your deepest parts.

“Mm, Yoongi!” You cry out as his strokes became longer, pulling himself all the way out to the tip remained before slamming back inside. He grits his teeth at your walls sucking him in as if they didn’t want him to go. Thank goodness for his stamina. After meeting you, he’s had to learn how restrain himself longer than ever. He never used to cum quick before meeting you. And yes, that was one of the many reasons he pursued you. “F-fuck….you feel so good.”

You arched your back more, lifting your ass so that he could reach even deeper.

“Don’t ignore me again. Do you understand?” He landed another slap on your bouncing ass, loving the recoil.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, face feeling hot from your breath that kept blowing back from how your face was pressed into the mattress.

Everything felt too tight, too hot, too sweaty, too good.

“Yes! I’m sorry!” You cried.

Releasing your wrists, he grabbed at your braids, twisting them around his wrist a few times. Waist length were definitely a smart investment.

He pulled you up until you were “balanced” on your hands because let’s face it, those things were numb as hell. His hold on your hair was really the only thing keeping you upright.

“Sorry for what? Apologize properly.”

He wanted you to form full sentences? That was like asking Jada to stop talking about Tupac. Impossible.

Another stroke knocked your speech centers loose, third orgasm since you started bubbling in your lower belly.

Yoongi could feel your walls clenching up, your moans growing louder at each thrust. Oh no you don’t.

He stopped his hips, still buried deep in your cunt. You whined as your orgasm ebbed away, wiggling your hips in an attempt to throw yourself back on his cock but a hand on your hip made you still.

“You’re not cumming until you apologize properly. Now, what aren’t you gonna do again?”

You swallowed, lip quivering and tears welling up. “I…I won’t ignore you again.”

He grinned. “Apology accepted.”

His hips set a punishing pace, your ass ricocheting off his hips. It had you moaning in ecstasy, nearly slipping from his grasp but he wrapped an arm under your breasts to keep you steady.

“Shit, I love this pussy. So. Fucking. Good.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust.

Your hand reached back to claw at his side, the slight sting making him groan and thus pushing him faster.

He yanked your hair until your back was pressed flush against his chest, his hips never slowing down. Almost instantly, you turned your head, seeking his lips as you always did when you were close. His heart fluttered, loving how affectionate you were.

You almost miss his lips from how absolutely feral he was going in your poor cunt. Fortunately, he tilts your head better with his grip on your hair, kissing your wet pout. The tenderness has your heart swooning despite all the chaos. He sucks at your tongue, leaving a light bite on your bottom lip as well.

“Gonna cum, my sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear, nipping at the skin.

You didn’t need to answer him, you’re growing moans enough to confirm. The hand that wasn’t scratching at his skin raises up to bury in his hair, yanking his strands similar to how he was doing you causing him to grunt in delight.

The arm around your body moved down to rub circles into your clit and you swore you saw the upper room. He buried his face in the side of your neck, inhaling your sweaty skin, lips leaving kisses and bites along the side of your throat.

His hips move even faster than before, desperate to carry you to your orgasm before he lost his shit. Pent up from that brief denial and riddled from your previous orgasms, you’re quick to crumble against him. Twisting in his hold, you cry out his name that’s like music to his ears.

“Yoongiiiiiiiiii! Cum in me, baby. Want you so bad….”

Your walls grip him tighter than a vice, his hips stuttering with careless abandon as he gives you exactly what you want. The sensitivity between your thighs burns in the best ways, little gasps coming from you another tiny orgasm washes over you.

“Ugh, fuck.” The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make both of you whine and gasp, his grip on you tightening and then loosening as his body shudders.

Your body falls forward on the mattress, muscles and bones weary and your eyes drooping as exhaustion weighs on them. You feel Yoongi flop down next to you, only the sound of his slightly hurried breaths filling the room.

“Not falling asleep on me, are ya?” He asks after a few seconds. He turns his head to find you are, in fact, beginning to doze off.

“No.” You fib, rolling your achy body over and holding up one arm. “Come kiss me.”

His smile is as sweet as him. He scoots over to bury himself in your warmth. Your arm wraps around him as his head lifts to give you your requested kisses.

“I love you.” You confess against his lips.

He hums. “Love you too. Even though you’re bad at giving directions.”

You roll your eyes but continued to peck at his lips. “Marry your GPS then.”

“I already have.” He hugs you closer. “And I wouldn’t give her up for anything.”

[bella-rose29]

Happy New Year - Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: barely proof read (I vaguely looked over it once) and mentions of alcohol consumption

felt like writing this (it's totally not to sweeten you all up for when I post deck the halls part 5 tomorrow whaaat that would be ridiculous I would never do that... 👀)

Tag list (i think this is everyone but idk anything anymore): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

"Right, we've got just over an hour before midnight and George has got the telly all set up for the fireworks display. Holly said she'd be here in about ten minutes and Kipps is coming with her, I'm not entirely sure where Lucy and Norrie are which I should probably be more concerned about, and I think that's everything. Is Flo coming do you know? Because I know George said she hadn't decided yet but-"

"Lockwood?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you sit down? You seem very stressed," Y/n said, smiling at him from behind her mug of tea while she sat in the kitchen, watching Lockwood pace around the table. It was definitely way past her normal bedtime, but Lockwood had seemed so excited about seeing the New Year in with them all that she couldn't exactly say no to him, especially not when he'd given her a small smile filled with hope that she would say yes to spending the evening with him.

That and they'd tested out the speakers earlier, and she would never have been able to sleep with the music as loud as it currently was.

"I am hosting, Y/n/n. I'm meant to be stressed; it's part of the job."

"Well," she started, getting out of her chair and wincing when her bones clicked. She picked up the mug that Lockwood had abandoned on the table and moved over to where he had stopped his pacing. "I think you're meant to drink your tea and have a biscuit. Then everything will be better, yeah?"

"Alright, if that's what the doctor orders," he smiled as he took the mug out of her hand, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest at the sight. She'd had a crush on Anthony Lockwood since she first met him a few years ago in a café, both him and his company and her Fittes team winding down after their jobs and grabbing a cup of tea before heading out into the cold again. Then she'd quit her job at Fittes because they stopped giving her work and she couldn't afford the rent, and she'd noticed an ad in the paper for agents to join the psychical agency Lockwood and Co, and she'd been met with the pretty boy from the café again. He'd welcomed her instantly, made her feel at home and gave her a place to live, and over the next couple of years her feelings only grew.

Now they were 18 years old, soon to be celebrating the New Year in 35 Portland Row together, and he was smiling at her like she was the sun.

"Don't tell George about the biscuits though, yeah?" he whispered, leaning in as though it were the sort of secret that could never be told. She nodded, snorting at his mock seriousness.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. Can't have you on your own, can we?"

"I wouldn't be alone, Lockwood. I'd have Lucy, and Holly, and George." She frowned a little, considering something. "Although maybe not George if he's killed you. I don't really want to be friends with murderers to be honest." Lockwood let out a laugh, and Y/n couldn't help but grin back at him when his joy was so infectious.

"No, I don't suppose that would be very good, would it?" He chuckled to himself for a moment or so, sipping his tea and munching on a biscuit. "I'm not much looking forward to being the only one not getting a kiss at midnight though."

It surprised her that he'd brought up the topic, since Lockwood had never really shown much interest in that sort of thing before. "Kipps'll probably be on his own too, although I'm not sure you'll be able to convince him to give you a smooch. I'm not kissing anyone either, if that helps."

"I think I'd rather kiss George's underwear than Kipps. You're not even going to kiss Lucy? I thought you two said you would," he asked, attempting to sound disinterested in the whole subject.

"Yeah, well now that she's got Norrie here they're gonna kiss instead, so I'm on my own. And I would also rather kiss George's pants than Kipps."

"Ah."

"Hmm." They drank the remainder of their tea in silence, the music from the speakers that George had set up streaming in despite being muffled through the closed kitchen door. "You know, I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

Lockwood looked at her, surprise all over his face. "What about that guy you went on a date with?"

"What? When did I go on a date?" And why did Lockwood sound... jealous?

"A few weeks ago. Oh, what was his name? Dave? Derek?"

"Daniel?"

"Yes! Daniel, that's the one. I knew it started with a 'd'."

"Dan's not... we're not dating, Lockwood. That wasn't a date," she said, feeling increasingly flustered.

"So he just bought you flowers and took you to dinner... as a friend?" Lockwood was definitely jealous, and Y/n had to bite back a laugh at the idea. Something was nagging at her in the back of her mind, telling her that it was strange for him to be jealous and wouldn't that mean something? but she wasn't paying much attention to it.

"Well I told him it wasn't a date. And we didn't kiss so I don't see how it's relevant."

"Right." A momentary pause. "But still, how come you haven't kissed anyone before?"

"It's not by choice. I've just never... had the opportunity I guess. You've probably kissed loads of people, what with how many of them you charm every day." Lockwood shrugged.

"Not really. There was one girl a few months ago, but she kissed me after pinning me against a taxi so that I physically couldn't get away from her, so I'm not entirely sure that counts."

"... What?"

"Yeah. After that job for Mrs. Hastings, her daughter followed us out and shoved me against the taxi. I have no idea how she was that strong but I feared for my life."

"You're ridiculous," she muttered as she looked at his face, no hint of anything other than utter seriousness displayed on his features.

"Ah, there you two are!" George said, pushing open the door and talking slightly louder than normal due to the blaring music. "I was wondering where you'd got to! Come on, the others are all here now, and they managed to convince Flo to come along somehow."

Y/n put down her empty tea mug and picked up her plastic cup that had had Lucy's punch in it (although what was in the punch itself she had no idea), and headed into the living room with Lockwood close behind to get comfy for the celebrations.

~~~

"Five minutes everyone!" Lucy shouted. She had since emerged from wherever it was that she'd been hiding (she and Norrie had appeared in giggles and with blushes on their faces, so Y/n felt sure in her assumption of what they'd been up to) and was now handing around a large bottle of some sort of cocktail that she'd mixed earlier.

Y/n and Lockwood were curled up next to each other on the sofa, somehow fitting the both of them on there without falling off. Lockwood was partially sat up, leaning his back against the armrest and holding Y/n close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist.

"You alright, love?" Lockwood murmured into her ear, and she nodded sleepily. Despite the loud music and alcohol Y/n was feeling worn out from the late hour, and Lockwood's hand stroking through her hair wasn't helping to keep her awake.

"I'm alright. Jus' tired."

"Not long now. Four minutes I think."

"I still don't have anyone to kiss," she said, a frown appearing on her face. The alcohol had made her tipsy, and she pushed herself up to look at Lockwood. "Neither do you. Oh!" she exclaimed, thinking up a brilliant idea that was helped by the drinks in her system. "We should jus' kiss each other, then all of our problems will be solved!"

"I'm not sure about all, love," Lockwood chuckled, and Y/n's frown reappeared.

"So you don't want to kiss me?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, voice growing quiet. "I mean, if you're happy to then... you know. If you don't mind then I don't... we can kiss. If you want."

"I want. I'm not going to lie I've wanted to kiss you for years now. You're so prettyyyy and kind and funny and lovely." She had no control over her words, all of them flying out before she could properly stop and think, and then she was registering them and slapping her hand over her mouth while her face turned red. Lockwood was just staring at her, his mouth slightly open and his face flushed from the alcohol he had drunk, and she buried her head in his chest.

"Why are you hiding, love? You're pretty too, so I don't know why you're not letting me look at you." He was still stroking his fingers through her hair, and when she brought her head back up to smile softly at him he pulled her closer (although she hadn't thought that was possible).

"You're drunk, Lockwood."

"I'm not-sober. There's a difference. Besides, you're not-sober too," he wagged a finger at her with a smile. "Wait, what does me being not-sober have to do with you being pretty?"

"'Cause you don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying, love." It was almost too much, the fondness in his eyes, and if she wasn't so captivated she would have looked away. "I've wanted to kiss you for years too, I was just never brave enough."

"Ten seconds!" Lucy yelled, and Y/n wondered just how long she'd been staring into Lockwood's eyes for time to pass so quickly.

"Nine!" the others gathered in the room started chanting, not noticing Lockwood and Y/n cuddled up on the sofa. "Eight! Seven! Six!" Lockwood pushed a strand of hair back behind Y/n's ear, his hand lingering at the side of her face and cupping her cheek. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Lockwood," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

"Happy New Year, Y/n/n," he whispered back, pressing his mouth to hers.

[biteofcherry]

Omg! Please more of alpha Ari! I fell in love with that story and I beg for any crumble you can spare 🙏🏻👀

More then a drabble, less than a chapter of any kind.

~ * ~

Bad Moon Rising

alpha!Ari Levinson x omega female reader

warnings for the part below: hints of primal kink; hints of chase kink; a/b/o dynamics; alpha!Ari; shifter!Ari; omega reader

.

.

You're not sure how it even happens that you end up dancing on a table.

Okay, to be fair you do know.

It's the fourth delicious drink and hilarious fun of absolutely stupid game of truth or dare at your friend's birthday outing.

Usually you're not that carefree, or reckless. You're more sensible (and too lazy for some crazy antics). But it's a special occasion, so you let your packmates goad you into joining them.

Along the evening your small group of four growths into seven, then nine. Even the neighboring pack's members find themselves among your group.

It's not forbidden to befriend the other pack. Especially since Dimitri and Levinson are trying out this civilized pact thing. Human-belonging bar that you went to is a neutral ground anyway; anyone can mingle.

It was harmless fun; lots of teasing and funny stories shared over the joined tables. You rolled your eyes at your friend's comments about getting yourself someone to take home for the night.

"Maybe it'll be a romcom type of thing." Holly winked.

"Her romcom is hotter." Joined Lin, smirking at you over the rim of her glass. "She got an alpha interested in her."

"Alpha?" Holly's brows arched in surprise; a tipsy hiccup preceding her next words: "But Dimitri's blindly in love with his wife."

"I don't mean our alpha." Lin had the smug, evil grin of a cat that ate the canary.

Your murderous glare didn't seem to bother her. It didn't scare off the others at your table, who Ohh-ed like a bunch of teenagers.

You weren't interested in entertaining their drunken nosiness. Besides, there was nothing to tell, really. Ari gave you a little adrenaline rush that night at the festivities, declaring a verbal claim, which you prayed would pass.

In the next week everything returned to normal, your days going on as usual. No pushy alpha on your tail to haunt you.

Before your companions opened their mouths to sputter teasing and ridiculous questions, you downed the rest of your drink in one go and demanded to be given a dare.

At the moment it was better than allowing them ask for a truth.

That's how you find yourself on the table. Everyone's drinks and snacks pushed to the side to make room for you.

Beat of the music quickens your blood, your body writhing and rocking to the rhythm. Your dress isn't too short, and it clings to your hips so tightly you're not afraid of flashing anyone.

Alcohol loosens your muscles; your inhibitions as well.

You sway your hips down then shot up straight, bent yourself forward for a second - causing your girlfriends to whoop in glee.

You're turning around, arms thrown up and head tilted back, when suddenly your world spins.

You squeak at the unexpected motion, for a long moment not understanding why your body is doing this weird upside down pose.

The sound of your friends hollering and whistling reaches you, but it dies down as you keep floating further away from the table.

It's when the chilly air outside of the bar brushes your bare arms that you realize you've been carried outside. Your gaze focuses on long legs clad in dark jeans, a really shapely ass right within reach.

Strong hands grip your hips and you're being slowly dropped down onto your feet. Your body slides along a broad, muscled form. The heat of him seeping through your clothes.

You brace your hands on his chest when you feel dizzy. As the world stops spinning, you start recognizing details of your surroundings.

Your face tilts up, gaze traveling from the wide span of a male's chest - blue shirt unbuttoned on top, revealing a thatch of chest hair - up his corded neck and over a nicely trimmed beard, with patches of ginger and gray within dark blond hair.

Plush, pink lips set into a thin line of displeasure. And a pair of cold, blue eyes glinting like a sharpened blade.

Ari fucking Levinson.

He smells really good, your drunk brain notices.

You manage not to follow that thought, instead focusing on the fact he picked you up, threw you over his shoulder and carried out of the bar as if he owns you.

He does not.

You're not that drunk to not remember this small truth; your lifeline.

You frown. And snap.

"What the hell, Levinson?"

You try stepping back, but your legs wobble on the high heels you chose for tonight. Ari's grip on you tightens, preventing your fall.

"Didn't think you'd cause so much trouble, little omega." He says, nostrils flaring. "Was it a deliberate act, or did you forget the rule about not having anyone's scent on you?"

"I was just dancing! Alone, may I add." You want to sneer that you didn't agree to his rule. You didn't agree to his game at all.

"Everyone at the bar was looking at you. Which I don't mind as long as nobody tries to touch." His eyes turn darker. "But there were men approaching, making plans regarding you, for which I'd have to kill all of them."

There's a furious fire in his eyes and his tone so calm in his ire that you have no doubt this alpha would spill blood, if anyone defies him.

"Hell, some of the members of my own pack were drooling over you." Ari shakes his head, still annoyed, but less when it comes to his own friends and family. "Galen's hand was inches from your calf when you bent over. I'd break his fingers if he touched you."

"You're being ridiculous." You huff, yet your body trembles in disgust at the thought of what some men might've been imagining doing to you.

"I wasn't alone." You point out.

It's not like you'd be going back home solo. Actually, the plans included crashing at Holly's place and eating ice cream until you passed out.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or perhaps you're this bold on your own, but you add:

"And you are not my alpha."

You expect anger. For a split of a second you ready yourself to run, in your high heels, in case Levinson attack you.

But he looks amused, darkness actually receding from his eyes.

"Are you this stubborn on a principle?" He asks, using one of his hands to cup your chin. "Or do you like the chase as much as I do?"

It dawns on you that Ari truly relishes in the chase, in the primal side of your wolf nature.

Saying no to him is like an invitation to play. Perhaps if you jumped right in at his advances at the autumn festival, he'd be bored and disappointed, leaving you be.

Ari's hold on your chin tightens. He moves closer, his breath tickling your cheek as his lips trail towards your ear.

"I may not be your alpha yet, but you will give in." He murmurs in your ear. "You'll be begging for my knot and praising every single drop of cum I pump into you, my little omega."

Alcohol likes filth, you tell yourself when your body ignites with heat upon his words.

You clench your thighs, but otherwise remain stoic, trying your best to not show Ari he may have some sway over your body.

Running in heels would really suck, and he already has the advantage of being a damn alpha, so you hope that Ari doesn't push for more tonight.

Sound of a phone ringing saves you. With a sigh, Ari leans back and takes his cell out of his pocket.

"What is it?" Ari grumbles, annoyed. His frown deepens as he listens to the person on the other end.

"I'll be there shortly." He hangs up, shaking his head. Looks up at you and rolls his eyes to the sky - "What is it with everyone tonight?"

"A bunch of teens from my pack got into a fight." He explains. "Get into the car, I'll drive you home."

This time you manage to push away from him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm staying." You announce, tilting your chin up defiantly. "It's my friend's birthday. The party's not over yet."

It's that strong will he sensed the first time he saw you. Ari admires it. He can't wait to break it.

"Do you promise to behave?" His tone is light, amused, but Ari looks at you expectantly like he really waits for your obedient compliance.

"I promise to do whatever the hell I want." You don't say it to spite him, you simply state the truth.

You are a free woman, able to make your choices. Some may be foolish, but you're allowed to do them too.

"Careful," Ari steps to your side, purposely towering over you, "or I'll make the same promise."

You gulp this time. This wasn't just a tease, but a dark threat Ari's capable of fulfilling.

He chuckles when you remain speechless. Then pats you on the ass before walking over to his car.

Your body stirs into movement when the sound of starting engine breaks through the pounding of your heart. You walk back to the bar, car lights following your each step until you safely disappear behind the door.

It's all light and fun inside, your friends waving and calling you over. You force a smile on your lips, decide on having at least one more drink to soothe the spike of fear.