#for whoever has no other plans and wants to hang out
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greyias · 11 months ago
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Oh, a heads up for my streamsy folks -- I'm thinking I might do another New Year's Eve stream now that I've got things (mostly) resituated on the computar.
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bloopy-writes · 6 months ago
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Rules for the Japanese National Team- written by Iwaizumi Hajime, Athletic Trainer
Hinata, Kageyama, Atsumu, and Bokuto are no longer allowed within 50 feet of the kitchen, if you want to eat, you can starve or beg someone else to make food for you.
Bokuto and Kuroo are no longer allowed to be left alone for more than 2 minutes at a time. Also pringles are banned you guys are athletes that shouldn’t be eating this junk anyways.
Whoever locks Oikawa and Ushijima in a closet together can pay for any damages caused
Kageyama is not allowed to play truth or dare-he’s too easily influenced
If you call Yaku short, I’m not helping you recover from the damages caused
Suna is not allowed to blackmail the coach to get out of extra practice it doesn’t end well for anyone
Aran is not allowed to room with Atsumu or Suns in the Olympic village because this poor man has suffered enough
I don’t care how good of an idea it seems, no one is allowed to listen to Houshimi after 2 am
Sakusa is banned from bleaching other peoples rooms no matter how bad they stink- still technically an invasion of privacy
Kuroo is not allowed to try and convince new recruits that they should give him money
Atsumu is not allowed to use his brother as a body double to get out of practice
Ushijima and Kageyama aren’t allowed to give interviews together without a third person present
Bokuto is not allowed to give interviews with other people
Hinata and Kageyama aren’t allowed to teach children because no one actually understands what they’re saying
If you get caught doing something stupid you are not allowed to call Officer Daichi Sawamura to bail you out that is still illegal and he doesn’t even work in Tokyo
Suna and Oikawa are to be kept away from each other at all costs
Atsumu and Oikawa can hang out with each other only if they stop arguing over who’s kageyamas favorite
No secret handshakes allowed
Glitter bombs are only allowed if glitter does not get on Iwaizumi
If anyone asks if Iwaizumi is a babysitter the answer is legally no
The first person to convince the administration that Iwaizumi deserves a raise will get free food for a month
Houshimi and Atsumu are two halves of a whole idiot and are not allowed to plan team bonding activities again
Kidnapping Oikawa does not count as a team bonding activity unless you murder him and bond over trying to hide the body
Iwaizumi Hajime loves his job no matter how much you all make him want to retire
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btsgotjams27 · 1 year ago
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the back-up plan | jjk
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summary: one drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.
💖 title: the back-up plan | one-shot 💖 pairing: jungkook x f!reader | 💖 genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?) 💖 rating: SFW | 18+ | 💖 word count: 18.1k | 💖 playlist 💖 warnings: jungkook & reader are both 29, reader is a hopeless romantic (what else is new with my characters?), jungkook is always pining and head over heels in love, jungkook is sweet and in luvrrr but he’s bad at feelings and tells some terrible lies (don’t hate him—ok!!), reader has a skewed view of relationships and what's expected of her, jungkook calls her wifey, hot and seggsy neighbor!namjoon (yes, pls), shirtless namjoon (2x), kissing, hand-holding, some suggestive language, mentions of erotic art and positions, first dates, alcohol consumption, reader has her belly button pierced, talks of tattoos & getting them, mentions of needles, and idk some things may come off as cheesy??? but it's a romance story so idk take what you will, light angst (you should know me by now!!), jungkook gets a lil drunk (pls drink responsibly), jealous jk comes out, love confessions 💖 a/n: the plot is a bit ridiculous, but that's the point! it's fiction (lol), i hope y'all enjoy it for what it is. the idea came from a tweet I saw, but ofc, I can't find it! so thank you to whoever tweeted it! and, happy birthday to the loml, jeon jungkook (this was supposed to be out for his birthday, but my brain said no). i also have to thank holly (@alphabetboyluvr). i respect her so much as a writer and friend, and I was super scared to ask her to even look at my outline, but she's always so sweet and willing. i couldn't have done this without her help, her comments, and suggestions <3 (i'd also recommend listening to the playlist while reading :)) and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts 💖
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sunday.
Another day has passed, and it’s creeping closer to your birthday. They’re supposed to be joyous, celebratory occasions–and you love feeling special, showered with love and gifts. What more could a person want?
But you had a clear goal before hitting the big 3-0: get married–or at least be engaged to be married.
Most girlfriends your age were still having fun, enjoying life, and not ready to settle down. You’re unsure if your upbringing or society’s expectations distorted you, but you were fond of marriage and finding the one to spend your life with.
You also blamed the hopeless romantic in you when you dragged every one of your girlfriends with you to see the new romantic comedy, giggled, and kicked your feet when reading the latest best-selling romance novel.
The thing was, you were so close to getting engaged. You and your boyfriend, Theo, of eight months–well, ex-boyfriend–discussed it openly from the beginning of your relationship. And not even two weeks ago, he broke up with you out of the blue and gave no clear explanation.
You sat in bed debating whether to download your old dating apps again. Your birthday was in six days, and you knew you wouldn’t find a suitable mate before your birthday, but at least you could try, right?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 PM Happy ‘almost 30th’ birthday.
You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:28 PM Are you still crying over Theodore Boner?
You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:29 PM 🤣🤣🤣 You were saved from that one. Imagine having the last name Boner.
You rolled your eyes at the text from Jungkook, throwing your phone beside you as you curled under your duvet.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call
“What do you want, Kook?”
“You gotta admit, ____ Boner sounds awful,” Jungkook laughed as he pushed back in his recliner.
“I’m hanging up!” you threatened, getting ready to push the end button.
"No, no! I'm kidding. You would've made a great Mrs. Boner."
"Bye–Kook."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm done, I promise."
"I had a whole plan. What am I supposed to do now? My birthday is in six days," you groaned, covering your face with the duvet.
"You don't remember our agreement, do you?"
You brought the cover down. Curious about his comment. "What agreement?"
💖💖💖
Before this most recent one, your ex, Jimin, had broken up with you, and you were on the rebound, looking for a good time. Jungkook came to the rescue, saving you from your next mistake. He took you out for drinks, let you drown in your sorrows, and the two of you got pretty drunk. You could only remember bits and pieces of your conversation.
“Let’s get married if we’re still single by 30,” Jungkook suggests.
“You wanna marry me? But I’m such a mess.”
Your dating life, career, friends, and family were fine.
“Yeah, why not. We get along. You seem a little kinky in bed and make a mean spaghetti dish.”
“Is that all I’m good for? Sex and spaghetti?”
“That sounds like a bad porn film waiting to happen. No, but I'm serious. If we're still single, let’s get married.”
You wave him off. “Kook, you’re drunk. You’re just saying whatever.”
“Yeah, I'm drunk, but I'm serious about this.” 
He gets up, looks around, sees a straw wrapper, and ties it around your finger. He's on one knee before you.
“____, will you marry me? Hypothetically, of course, if we’re both still single by 30.”
You shake your head at your loveable friend. It was hard to say no. How could you?
“You’re so dumb.”
“See. You can write that in your vows,” Jungkook jokes, grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, you are pretty cute, and I can stand being around you,” you tease.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
You smack his arm. “Is this how you’re wooing your future wife?”
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can’t believe how beautiful my future wife is.”
You’re unsure if it’s the alcohol making you susceptible and vulnerable to your good friend asking you to marry him or if it was because you were on the rebound. But what’s the harm? If you couldn’t find someone by 30, then you’d get to marry a good friend.
“That's more like it. Why yes, Jeon Jungkook. I will marry you if I'm still single by 30.”
💖💖💖
You let out a cackle. “Oh shit–I agreed to that?”
Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”
But Jungkook’s messing around, right? He was a good friend and comforted you in your time of need. There’s no way he’d want to spend the rest of his life with you. Plenty of suitable women were fawning over him, and now you’ve noticed you've never seen him with a girlfriend.
“You’re–you’re not serious, are you?” You stumble over your words, going into panic mode.
Why would Jeon Jungkook choose you, of all people, to want to marry? He could have anyone at any time.
No, you shook off the thought. You couldn’t lock him into a loveless marriage.
Jungkook licks his lips, tongue flicking his lip ring back and forth.
You shifted in bed and cleared your throat. “Aren’t you seeing that one girl?”
It wasn’t hard to notice when she practically hung onto him like a lovesick puppy.
Jungkook makes a face, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s nothing serious.”
You give him a blank expression. “Nothing serious? Kook, she’s practically foaming at the mouth and shooting heart eyes when you’re around.”
Jungkook chuckles. “That could be you, too.”
You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.
“Just saying,” he adds.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way if it is serious.” You surely didn’t want to become a homewrecker.
He waves his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t back down from promises I make.”
Your lips turn into a pout, and you tilt your head, wondering why he’d ditch Clingy Chloe and commit to a drunken promise. “What’s in it for you?”
He seems offended by your question, so he scoffs. “I mean, I’m just trying to save you from a future where you’re an old lady with 50 cats, collecting newspapers that pile up from the floor to the ceiling, and then you show up on an episode of Hoarders.”
You chuckle. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.
“I mean, marriage is a pretty serious thing, and we’re friends getting married because we have no one else?” The sentiment seems ridiculous once you say it aloud.
“What? You don’t think I'll be a good husband?” 
“No, I didn't say that. I think you’d be a great one, actually.”
“Then, what’s the problem? Don’t think you can handle me?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.
You roll your eyes at your cocky friend. “I don’t know, Kook. What if I meet someone, or what if you meet someone?”
“You don’t think I can make you fall in love with me?” he asks, ignoring your question.
Your nose scrunches, and you laugh. “No.”
“Oh, well, that sounds like a challenge, and you’re lucky I love a little competition.”
He’s not going to let this go, is he?
You settle into the plush of your pillows. “Okay–tell you what, if you can make me fall in love with you within the week, I’ll consider marrying you.”
What would you have to lose? Being wined and dined by a cute guy? What girl would pass up this opportunity?
“Deal.”
💖💖💖
monday.
Your everyday routine consists of rolling out of bed, logging into work, checking your emails, and then sitting on the couch until you get a support ticket from someone who forgot their password for the umpteenth time.
It’s a great gig, and now you’re glad you went into the right field of work.
You’re on your random binge of rewatching The Fast and the Furious saga. Your friends always make fun of you, but you can’t help it. It’s a guilty pleasure of yours.
“You got some sexy legs. When do they open?” Roman says with a grin.
You burst out laughing. The dialogue is so bad, yet somehow, these movies keep getting made. You must be the target audience.
The doorbell rings and it’s 8:30 AM. Who is here this early? You didn’t buy anything online while you were drunk, did you?
You peek through the viewfinder, and it’s blocked by something yellow. You can’t see the delivery person’s face when you open the door.
“Special delivery for ___,” the person says in a deep voice.
“That’s me.”
And out from behind the flowers, Jeon Jungkook pops out. “Happy birthday week,” he says in a sing-song voice.
Your heart settles when you realize it's your friend or future husband. “What are you doing here?”
You notice two grocery bags on the ground next to him. He hands you the flowers and picks them up.
“What do you think I’m doing here?” He raises his eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe.
Real clothes and makeup don’t exist when you're working from home.
“Cute slippers,” he points out as you stare at your fluffy white bunny slippers.
You sigh, grabbing his arm to drag him into your apartment. As you’re about to close the door, you notice moving boxes outside the apartment next to yours. Hmm, someone new must be moving in.
“Is this what you look like underneath all that makeup?” he asks, making himself comfortable in your kitchen. The two bags are on the counter, and he’s going through the cupboards to find a vase.
“Top left above the sink,” you say.
He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting company. Otherwise, I would’ve put on some decent clothing.”
And a bra, you think as you cross your arms, covering your chest.
Jungkook shakes his head. “You look good in anything, and with or without makeup. You’ll be my future wifey, so there’s no need to look for good me. We can just be comfortable with each other, right?”
You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow. He’s serious about this, isn’t he? You suppose you wouldn’t mind playing along to see how far he would go.
A man ready and willing to commit to marriage? You must be living in your romantic film.
You nod. “Right, we’re friends, possibly moving onto more than friends–well, actually, straight to marriage,” you chuckle, "but I’ve always felt comfortable around you, Kook.”
He flashes a warm smile. “Good, then everything will be easy, peasy lemon squeezy.”
He’s cute, you think.
“I hope you like mimosas,” he says as he unloads the groceries from the bags.
Bread, eggs, bacon, strawberries, orange juice, and champagne.
“Are you making me breakfast?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the man in the yellow beanie and white Nike shirt.
“Consider it your birthday breakfast, wifey,” he jokes, peering in your cupboards for a pan.
“Right side next to the oven.”
“Ah, I gotta remember this if I’m gonna be cooking here more often.” He whistles, setting the pan on the stove.
You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t you have to work today?”
“Nah–called in sick. It’s my wife’s birthday week. I have to shower her with all the love.” He wiggles his eyebrows and puckers his lips.
It’s funny to see Jeon Jungkook act this way. He’s always been playful and flirty the two years you’ve known him, but this must’ve been his way of pulling out all his cards of wooing a woman.
💖💖💖
“Breakfast is ready,” Jungkook yells from the kitchen.
A support ticket from work came through, distracting you from your movie and Jungkook.
“‘Kay! Almost done.” You recheck your work emails, ensuring everything is complete.
This time, you put on a bra, change into a decent shirt, and put on a skin tint and blush to make yourself look alive.
You stroll into the kitchen, and Jungkook perfectly displays the sunflowers on the counter and two delicious breakfast plates. The champagne flutes are filled to the brim and topped off with a beautifully sliced strawberry.
“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”
He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”
The two of you sit beside each other, digging into the breakfast spread.
“What’s that one movie you wanted to watch again?” Jungkook asks before he sips his mimosa.
Your mouth is full, and you chew quickly to answer him. “The one on Netflix?” He hums. “Wedding Season.”
“Sounds like the perfect movie for us to watch this week.”
“You’re into rom-coms?”
“I love ‘em.”
“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”
“I don’t know why you never ask me to watch them, but you’ll ask the girls.”
You look down at your food before catching his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d be into them, so I never asked. And you don’t seem like the hopeless romantic type.”
“I mean, growing up, I wasn’t. My parents didn’t have a fairytale romance, so I didn’t believe in love for a long time.”
You raise an eyebrow. “So, someone must’ve changed your mind then?”
He hums, not wanting to admit who made it an exception.
You nudge his arm. “Are you gonna tell me, or will I have to pry it out of you?”
He chuckles, not saying a word.
You scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me? Keeping secrets from your wife already? Rude,” you tut.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.
The two of you finish breakfast, and Jungkook insists on doing the dishes. You set your plate in the sink and clutch onto his arm, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you.”
💖💖💖
tuesday.
You take the morning off to run errands for your upcoming birthday extravaganza. And you’re struggling to hit the lock button on your keypad while holding a heavy box of birthday decor.
When you finally hear the whirring of the lock and chime, you turn around, bumping into someone, dropping your box, and knocking over a handful of books.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, quickly picking up as many books as possible, and he picks up your birthday decor.
The man reaches for the pink heart-shaped sunglasses and other pink-colored decor. “Someone must be celebrating big,” the man’s dimpled smile displayed.
Your fingers accidentally touch his when you switch his books for your decor. You clear your throat, trying not to ogle the man. “Um, yeah, it’s for my birthday.”
He perks up. “Oh?” He flashes a thin smile. “Happy birthday.”
A breath gets caught in your throat, and you struggle to get any words out. “Uh, my birthday is actually on Saturday,” you finally croak out. “But, you must be my new neighbor.”
“Yeah, I’m Namjoon. I just moved in this past weekend.”
Oh, this is bad. Really bad.
He’s tall, has beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair, and you could live in his dimples.
“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”
“Sorry about bumping into you, and it’s nice to meet you too. I hope you have a good birthday,” he says before picking up one last book on the ground.
“Are you doing anything this weekend? You can come if you want.”
After you ask, you want to kick yourself in the bum. Inviting a man you just met. What if he’s a weirdo? But how can he be if he’s reading ‘A Bigger Message Conversations with David Hockney.’ You may have managed to peek at one of his books.
“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding! I’m inviting you, and you can’t say no to the birthday girl,” you tease, adjusting the box in your arms.
A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re right. It’d be messed up to say no to the birthday girl.”
“So, you’ll come?” you ask, and a smile grows from ear to ear.
He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
The two of you exchange information before you leave to finish your errands. You’re beaming down the street while carrying your box of decor.
You didn’t expect to find someone cute and endearing so quickly. And you’re surprised he said yes to your party. Maybe he’s new in town and wants to make friends. It would be a good way for him to get acquainted, and a part of you hoped you’d keep bumping into him in the halls.
💖💖💖
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 AM Wanna do a movie night today? We could watch Wedding Season.
You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:35 AM Is 6 okay? I can bring dinner too.
You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.
It's six on the dot, and you hear a knock on your door. You suppose Jungkook is the type to show up right on time, which you greatly appreciate.
He holds a six-pack of beer and a pizza box when you open the door.
"Ready for movie night?"
It’s halfway through the film, and you’re enjoying it. You love the fake dating trope because you could always count on the two mains to fall for each other.
"Are you cold?" Jungkook asks when he sees you tuck your hands in between your thighs.
"Yeah, kind of."
"Come here."
He opens his arm to cuddle, and you blink expressionless at him. The most intimate thing you’ve done with him is hug him–a side hug.
He laughs when you don’t move. “What? Scared I’ll bite?”
“No—it’s just that cuddling is an intimate thing to do,” you admit.
Arms and legs become entangled. Bodies are warming up against each other. Possibilities of things progressing.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you have a throw blanket somewhere?” He looks around and sees a woven basket next to the couch. He grabs a white fluffy throw for you.
Jungkook gives you an out, and for that, you’re grateful.
“Thanks,” you say as you snuggle in the blanket.
He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”
Even though you rejected Jungkook’s invitation to cuddle, somehow, by the end of the movie, the two of you had fallen asleep—cuddling.
You didn’t pull away from him yet. You peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall. Light snores escape his lips, and now and again, he puffs out a breath like a whale coming up for air, making you chuckle.
You rest your chin on his chest, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this before waking him up.
“Kook,” you whisper, gently shaking him. “Kook,” you repeat.
He hums, popping his head up while his eyes are still closed. He flutters them open and immediately sits up, wiping the drool that’s dried on his chin. He clears his throat. “Um—how long was I asleep for?”
You giggle. “We both fell asleep. I blame the beer,” you say, stretching your arms.
Jungkook can’t help but notice the shiny piece of jewelry hanging from your navel. “You have your belly button pierced?” he asks with a raised brow.
You quickly pull down your shirt. “It was a dumb thing I did when I turned 21.”
“It’s cute.”
You shy away from his comment. At times, you forget you have it.
“What else are you hiding, hm?” Jungkook asks.
You scoff. “Nothing. I only have my ears and my belly button pierced.”
“No tattoos?”
Tattoos are cool on other people, and you toyed with the idea of getting one. You were indecisive about what to get.
You shook your head no. “Maybe one day.”
“Get one for your 30th. I’ll go with you. I know a guy,” he teases, pointing out the ink on his skin.
“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”
He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”
A tattoo, huh? You’ve always wanted to see how high your pain threshold was. “I’ll think about it.”
“Just let me know, and I’ll get an appointment with the guy I always go to. I only trust him.”
Jungkook stands, proceeding to clean up the mess you two made.
“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”
He looks at the clock. It’s nearly midnight, and he still needs to wash up.
You walk him to the door, holding it open for him to leave. “Kook?”
Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”
You’re unsure what comes over you, but you pull him in for a hug. Only this time, it doesn’t feel like a friendly hug. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, then he wraps his arms around you. Every ounce of his body presses against yours, and you fit perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. His fresh, clean scent invades your nose, and you wish it could linger for a bit longer while his hand snakes to the nape of your neck, fingers curling in your hair.
Why do you feel more vulnerable when sleeping next to him now than earlier? Is it because you’re awake and aware of your intentions? The question was, what were your intentions? Did you want this? Did you really want him?
You withdrew from the embrace, bidding him farewell. He gives a small wave before disappearing into the elevator.
As you enter your apartment and shut the door, you repeatedly knocked the back of your head against it, muttering, ‘fuck.’ You were playing along to see how far Jungkook would go before calling it quits, but you failed to see that maybe—just maybe you could be falling too.
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Hoseok’s minding his business, eating his ramen when he sees his roommate walk in. Jungkook looks like he’s floating on cloud nine, beaming from ear to ear. There’s even a hop in his step. He twirls around, daintily sitting beside Hoseok.
Hoseok scans his friend, watching him as he breathes a happy sigh and stares into the distance.
“What’s going on with you?” He raises a brow and narrows his eyes.
Jungkook giggles and scrunches his shoulders. “I just came back from cuddling with ___,” he says as he continues in his reveries.
“Oh, boy. Everyone, can I please have your attention,” Hoseok cups his mouth into a megaphone, “Jeon Jungkook has officially gone off the deep end. He thinks being delulu is the solulu.”
Jungkook glares at his friend and kicks him under the table. “Yah–aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”
Hoseok slurps his noodles. “Of course, I’m rooting for you. You’re my best bud,” he says as he places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he pats Hoseok’s hand. “Now–be an even better friend, and let me raid your closet for ___’s party.”
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Jungkook lies in bed; his bicep flexes when he moves his hand behind his head. He’s watching an array of colors flash across the vastness of his room. The northern lights and stars twirl and sparkle like the movements of butterflies and the ones milling around his stomach for days.
Is this what being in love feels like, he thinks. It’s like he’s living in the romance movies he’s watched. Boy meets girl, boy, and girl fall in love, and they live happily ever after.
This is it. This must be it. His chance to be with you–the one he’s fallen completely head over heels for.
If the Jungkook from four years ago were to see him today, he’d laugh and call him a simp, especially with how he’s at your beck and call.
But the Jungkook, from four years ago, was a cynic. He had no healthy or loving relationships around him until he met you through Hoseok. And, even though you were with someone at the time, he saw how kind and wonderful you were to your friends and could only imagine the kind of love you’d show toward someone special.
There were only a few more days until your party, and he was determined to make each day count.
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wednesday.
Since Monday, Jungkook has surprised you every day with a gift. They were his attempts to make you fall in love with you, along with his random trips to your place. 
Today’s gift was a pair of pink seashell earrings. Jungkook tells you he spent hours making it from clay, then baked them in the oven. You shook your head, wondering how he got an idea like this. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gift.
He texted throughout the day, leaving cute words of encouragement or sending TikToks of funny videos he’d find. Maybe this was his love language, taking the time out of his day to let you know he’s thinking about you.
As your day winds down, you’re scrolling through YouTube, and what catches your eye at 7 p.m.? Dessert videos.
And that’s your worst toxic trait—thinking you can bake. It always looks easy enough. If they can do it, so can you.
That is, until you’re in the kitchen, halfway through a recipe, and notice you’re out of sugar. The grocery store is too far and will close when you get there.
See what happens when you decide to bake? It always goes differently than you want.
You could call Jungkook to see if he has any or walk over to your new neighbor’s place. The latter was plausible since Namjoon was only a few feet away.
You shook off the nerves, flattened your apron, and lightly knocked on Namjoon’s door. You could hear shuffling as he unlocked it.
Your eyes widened, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Namjoon’s half-naked, black shorts hung dangerously low on his waist. His forehead is glistening with sweat.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” you ask while trying to keep your gaze in line with his and not ogling his chiseled body.
Shit—maybe he had company over.
He cards his hand through his platinum blonde hair, but a few pieces fall back, covering his eyes. “No, you’re good. I just finished working out. What’s up?” he asks. His hand holds the door open as he leans against it.
You’re dumbfounded, unable to form words again. It’s like a giant hairball stuck in your throat.
Namjoon’s brows raise, and he calls out to you.
“Oh, sorry!” you say. “I’m attempting to bake a cake but I'm out of sugar. I wanted to ask if you have any I can borrow.”
“I think I do,” he ponders as he steps back. “Come in. Come in.”
You step into a squeaky clean apartment. Didn’t he just move in? How does someone unpack so quickly? Or maybe he had little to begin with.
His apartment was like a museum, with pottery, sculptures, and art prints adorning his walls and shelves. But what catches your attention is the translucent, cylindrical coffee table. It doesn’t seem like anyone should be putting anything on it.
Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.
“Ah, thank you so much! Now my cake batter won’t go to waste.”
“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.
Granted, this man is still half-naked, standing beside you. You’re trying not to go feral over how broad and built he is.
“This, actually,” you point to the glass coffee table.
“That’s probably one of my most prized possessions.”
“It looks expensive.” You’d later come to find out it was worth $1.2M after you did an internet search.
“It is,” he chuckles. “It’s on loan from a friend.”
“On loan?” you ask, turning to him. Your eyes narrow and lips thin. “Can I ask what you do for work?”
“I’m an art curator.”
That makes sense now, considering the expensive and extensive art collection.
“Oh—you’re so fancy,” you tease. “I don’t know shit about art.” You could stand before a painting and feel nothing while looking at it. Maybe you were just going in with the wrong mindset.
Namjoon chuckles. “You can always ask me questions,” he notes before walking away to put on a t-shirt.
You’re a bit disappointed that you can’t ogle him anymore.
“Well, I can’t ask you questions if you don’t take me to a museum,” you flirt, turning toward him.
He grins, showing off his pearly whites and dimple deeply etched into his left cheek. “Are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”
You can’t help but play dumb. “Oh no, of course not! I would like your expertise to guide me around a museum, and if we happen to eat afterward, then I don’t know—would you call that a date?”
Namjoon licks his lips and nods, impressed by your boldness. “Are you busy Friday night?”
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The cake wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. You’d have to keep perfecting it and maybe keep asking to ‘borrow’ some sugar from your neighbor.
You debated whether you should tell Jungkook about your date with Namjoon. It’s a harmless date; Jungkook would be off the hook if it goes well. Besides, it’s a silly agreement you two made up while drunk.
But, you’d sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow. There was one more day before the date anyway.
As you were sitting in bed, doing your nightly scrolling through social media. A video call comes through.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call
You're on your side when you answer his call. “Hey, Kook,” you say before covering a yawn.
“Ready for bed?” he asks, shuffling underneath his duvet.
Your eyes scan the screen, and you notice his bare shoulders and collarbone on display. You never realized his tattooed sleeve reached so high on his arm, scantily kissing the top of his shoulder.
You cleared your throat. "Yeah, about to call it a night. What's up?"
"I just wanted to call and see how your day was. I was busy at work, so I didn't get to text you," he says.
Now that you think about it, the last text you received from him was this morning. And since the start of your little agreement, Jungkook has been texting and calling more than usual.
"I worked, then attempted to bake a cake."
He props the phone against something as he lies on his side, and parts of his hair still look damp from a shower. And you hate how cuddly he looks while he’s in bed and how you can see how much he works out just from the outline of his arms.
And no—you aren’t thinking about anything else. 
"How'd it turn out?"
You shook your head in disgust. "Not very good."
"Ah, I'm sure it was great."
"I'll stick to store-bought cake for now."
"Next time, we can do it together and fail."
He wants to do everything with you, huh?
You chuckle at his comment and then say what’s on your mind, "I never realized how far your tattoo sleeve went up."
He peers at his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he leans forward to show you, his bicep flexing as he moves.
"Cool guy."
He chuckles. "Hardly cool. Just bored," he says. "So, should I schedule you for your tattoo?"
Since the last conversation, you've been scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram to get some ideas.
"I think I want the birth flower for September."
Jungkook shows you his arm, pointing to his tiger lily tattoo. "This one is for the actual day of birth, but the flower for the month of September is pretty too. Have you thought about placement?"
"Mm, maybe on the back of my neck or the inside of my arm. What do you think?" You show him your arm, then the back of your neck.
"It would look great on the back of your neck. It could be a nice surprise when you have your hair up."
"Oh–I like that idea."
He props himself up on the side with a wide grin. "So, I'm booking your appointment?"
You chuckle. "Yeah, why not? We only live once, right?"
Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.
“Once you get one, you’ll want more. Trust me.”
“At least I’ll have a tattoo buddy for life,” you tease.
“Ah, see, I like the way you’re thinking. Well, I should let my wifey get to sleep,” he gives a small smile. He reaches for his phone, placing it on his chest. His other hand is behind his head as he watches you through the screen.
You hum in agreement. “Night.”
“Night.”
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Daydreams are one thing, and when Jungkook lies in bed, he can't help but wonder.
Wonder how you’d look in his favorite t-shirt. Wonder which side of the bed you prefer. Wonder if you dream of him, too. Wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.
Jungkook doesn’t want to wonder anymore; he wants to make you his reality.
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thursday.
The birthday festivities started early for you as you requested today and tomorrow off. There’s no way you’re spending your last few days of being 29 stuck at work.
Today’s agenda consisted of a pedicure. The toes have to look cute with your new heels, and as you’re ready to head out to your appointment, Jungkook is at your door when you open it.
You tilt your head, knitting your eyebrows together. “Did we have something planned?”
He shakes his head no and pouts. “No, I wanted to surprise you with another gift.”
He hands you a gift bag, and you take a small peek, reaching down to grab the gift. You pull out a peach-shaped heart bath bomb.
“Peach?” You raise a brow and give a smug grin. “What makes you think I like peach?”
Jungkook snorts. “Oh, pfft–I don’t know. Could it be all the candles or soap? Or how you always order any type of peach-flavored alcohol? Tea? Or–”
You suck in your lips, then give a thin smile. “Son of a peach.”
“Very cute. You’re also great at fruit puns. I’ll add that to the list of reasons why I like you,” he chuckles.
To be fair, everything in your apartment had a hint of peach–your candles, air freshener, hand soap, ChapStick, and not to mention a cupboard full of peach tea.
You chuckle. “Thanks, Kook. You didn’t have to.”
“I do if I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”
You set the bath bomb back in its bag, then on the entryway table. You close the door behind you, forcing him to step back.
“You talk a lot about making me fall in love with you, but you’ve still failed to do so. It’s almost my birthday,” you tease.
What girl wouldn’t want gifts, but you thought he’d push a bit harder.
Jungkook smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He steps closer to you–close enough for you to smell his cologne. It’s a fresh, clean scent.
He’s inches away from you. Warmth is radiating off of him. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. Your eyes are on his, then focus on his lip ring, then the freckle underneath his bottom lip. It’s the first time you’ve been close enough to notice it.
His eyes dart back and forth between yours. His tongue wets his lips, then plays with his ring. “I’m just getting started,” he says.
You close your eyes, fluttering them back open. There’s relief escaping your body once he backs away.
“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, stepping out of the way to let you lead.
“I have a pedicure appointment. Wanna come?” you ask. You wouldn’t mind having company around, and you’re curious how he’ll continue to sweep you off your feet.
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You feel bad for the poor woman who has Jungkook in her seat, and you’re trying your best not to laugh as he’s squirming, clutching onto the armrests.
You clear your throat. “Is this your first pedicure?”
“What? No,” he counters, but he’s giggling non-stop, holding on for dear life.
“Sir–I need you to stop moving,” the woman warns.
You cover your mouth. Your shoulders are bouncing due to your giggles. “Kook, she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.”
“How the hell do women do this? This is torture.”
“Can’t handle a little torture?”
He perks up, shaking off the chills. The woman continues to scrub his feet with a pumice stone. He’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh and smile when she gets to the underside of his foot. Then his reflexes get the best of him, and he almost kicks her.
The woman gives him a blank expression but is professional and continues as fast as possible.
An hour later, Jungkook is coming out of the nail salon, sweating bullets from the endless torture of a pedicure.
You look at him and then his toes. “At least your toes are cute.” He let you choose the color, and you had to choose hot pink to match your birthday theme for this weekend.
He does the walk of shame in a pair of yellow flimsy flip-flops because he wasn’t prepared for a pedicure. You’ve been there, done that.
You link your arms to him when you catch up to him. “Hungry?”
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Jungkook groans in delight. “You have to try this.”
He leans forward. A piece of his roasted chicken ravioli covered in pink sauce looks delectable. You open your mouth, devouring the pasta. You close your eyes, savoring it.
“See, what did I tell you?” He smiles, going back to his bowl of food. “How’s yours?”
You didn’t want to say you didn’t like it–but you hate it. “It’s good,” you smile and lie through your teeth.
You begin moving the ravioli around, pretending to make it look like you'll eat it.
Jungkook sets his fork down, pushing his bowl toward you. “Here, take mine.”
You look up at him. “What? No–I like my food,” you lie again, grabbing your bowl and clutching it closer to you.
He deadpans. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t like something. Come on, I’ll finish your food, and you can have mine.”
You let go of your bowl. “Are you sure?”
Jungkook smiles warmly, his small dimple on display as he nods. He grabs your bowl and begins to eat it.
Your heart softens, and you’re enchanted by your friend/potential future husband, so it pains you to have this conversation. You tossed and turned the night before because you couldn’t bear the thought of locking your friend into something he'll regret later on.
“So, you might not have to marry me,” you say.
Jungkook looks up at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Damn, someone beat me to it?” he jokes.
You flash a thin smile and shake your head no. “Well, I have a crush on my new neighbor.”
He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”
You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”
Jungkook nibbles on the inside of his mouth then continues to eat. “You barely know the guy, and you’re already tossing me aside?” He tuts, shaking his head.
“I’m–I’m not tossing you aside. You’re still an option, but I’m just saying if it works out with the new neighbor, then you’re off the hook. I'm sure there are better girls out there than me, Kook. You don’t want to be married to me.”
He sets his fork down, pushing his bowl forward. “Well, what can I say? You can’t see the guy?”
“So, you’re okay if I see him?”
Jungkook hesitates to answer. “Mm,” he hums with a nod.
“Are you upset with me?”
“Why would I be upset?” He shrugs. “I’m only a back-up.”
His answer gives you a sense of relief, but you also feel guilty about everything. “Should we end our little deal? That way, you don’t have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. It seems silly now that we’re both sober and not drunk making promises like this.”
He hums and nods again. “You’re right. It does seem foolish.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I'll go pay while you finish up."
You watch him get up and walk to the register. His demeanor changes as soon as you mention ending the deal. 
Is he serious about this?
Honestly, you’re stumped by Jeon Jungkook and his intentions. If he did like you, why not ask you out like an average person? Why go through the trouble of marrying you? So that you could fulfill some silly goal you had for your life?
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“I’ll walk you up,” Jungkook says as he turns off the car.
“It’s fine, Kook. You don’t have to,” you counter.
On the ride back, guilt has been eating you from the inside out. You’re unsure why you feel this way–maybe because you feel like a shitty friend. Saying one thing and then doing another.
But again, marriage is a serious thing for two people to consider.
Jungkook doesn’t waver in his decision and escorts you anyway. The silence is deafening in the elevator; the two of you stand at opposite sides, stealing glances. There’s an elephant in the room, but neither of you addresses it.
When the elevator doors open, you expel the caught breath in your throat. Jungkook follows a few steps behind you.
“Are we okay?” you ask, glancing at him before lowering your head.
He stuffs his hand in his pants pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. I feel like an ass because you’ve been such a good friend–especially after my breakups. And then this past week, you’ve been sweet and cute with all the little gifts and hangouts,” you pause to look at him.
His eyes are big and innocent, and his lips form a slight pout. He’s intently listening to your words.
“I’m trying to say I’ve enjoyed being with you this week, and I’m sorry how things turned out,” you manage to spit out.
Jungkook nibbles on his lip, showing off his pretty dimple. His eyes dart to yours as he flashes a thin smile. “Well, I’ll always be your back-up if this guy doesn’t work out.”
You breathe a sigh of relief that he can still joke about this situation. You close the distance between you, reaching up and draping your arms around his neck.
It takes a moment for him to return your hug, but he does–wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. He nuzzles in the crook of your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent and softness.
Your heart’s fluttering, your stomach is somersaulting and doing back-flips. Jungkook’s warmth is all-encompassing, encapsulating every fiber of your being. Neither of you let go, allowing this embrace to go longer than usual friends do.
When you pull away, your lips are so close to his. Close enough to explore what they taste like. Close enough to see how plush they are. Close enough to find out just how much you’d have to gasp for air afterward.
You almost want to give in. You almost want to see where this could go. You almost want him to make a move.
Jungkook whispers your name, and you hum, gazing into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? About the deal? You don’t want it anymore?”
You're becoming lost in the stars and galaxies contained in those doe eyes. Jungkook doesn’t lose focus, doesn’t break character, and doesn’t give you a chance to run away.
“This stops when you say so,” he utters softly.
He’s unrelenting, you think. He wants this, doesn’t he? He wants you.
So these next few words sting. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
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Jungkook doesn’t even realize when he’s outside his apartment complex. He sits in his car, zoning out. He’s so close to finally getting you, but now there’s someone else?
For two years, he’s been trying to buck up the courage and finally ask you out, and when he finally gets an opportunity, someone always swoops in and steals you away.
When he proposed the agreement, it was more of a joke, that is, until you agreed, and that’s when he knew he’d try whatever it took to get you to the altar.
A knock on Jungkook’s window breaks him from deep thought. He looks up to see his roommate, Hoseok.
He gestures for Jungkook to roll his window down. “Why do you look like you're on the verge of crying? Why don’t you go up to the apartment?”
Jungkook holds onto the steering wheel and groans as his head hits it a few times, muttering, ‘Stupid.’
Hoseok knits his eyebrows in confusion as he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, opening the car door.
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Jungkook drags his feet through the threshold and drops his backpack on the floor. He continues walking sluggishly, plopping on the couch, still in a daze.
Hoseok blinks at his friend. “What’s going on?”
“You know how I was trying to make ____ fall in love with me this week?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”
Hoseok’s eyes widened. “There's a new guy already? I swear this girl must have some kind of bat signal that’s beaming up into the sky that attracts men the second she’s single.”
Jungkook drops his head back, then rubs his face. “What am I going to do?”
Hoseok shrugs. “Maybe tell her how serious you are about being with her.”
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want to be with me?”
“So, you’re going to trap her in a marriage instead?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Make it make sense, my friend.”
Maybe that's what he wanted. It could be like an arranged marriage. Meet first, then fall in love.
“I know it sounds ridiculous!”
Hoseok rubs Jungkook’s shoulder. “This whole deal is ridiculous. Be honest with her, then she’ll have to choose between you and the new guy.”
He knows Hoseok is right. He should be honest and tell you how he feels.
Or he could get rid of the new guy, and the deal would be back on.
Decisions. Decisions.
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friday.
Jungkook was determined to make this agreement work out in his favor. He wasn’t going to back down so easily.
He took off early from work, going straight to your favorite bakery to grab a cake. Thoughts are racing through his mind as he clutches the cake box and walks through the crowded street.
What if this was his last chance? What if this new guy was ‘the one’ for you? He couldn’t let you slip away again.
He’s even prepared a monologue. He’s mumbling it under his breath when he arrives at your door.
When the door opens, he doesn’t find you. Instead, he finds a half-naked man with broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.
Jungkook stands tall and puffs out his chest, back straight, when he sees this unknown man. His mouth is agape as he scans him from head to toe. Was this the guy you were talking about?
He clears his throat and stands his ground. “Oh, uh, who are you?”
“Hey, man. I’m Namjoon. ___’s neighbor,” he says.
“I’ll be right out!” you yell from the other room.
Jungkook clenches his jaw, and he’s trying to calm his nerves. There’s no way you were sleeping with this guy already, right? No, you can’t be, Jungkook shakes the thought from his head.
You sprint from the hallway, holding a shirt. With your clumsy ways, you spilled iced coffee on Namjoon’s shirt right before your date. You felt bad, so you offered to wash it for him.
“Namjoon, I’m so sorry! I’ve tried everything to get it out. I might have to buy you a new shirt–oh,” you gasp. “Hi, Jungkook.”
Jungkook walks in, setting the box down, and he doesn’t say anything else as he leans against the counter, watching you two.
Namjoon sucks in his lips, strolling to your side, looking at his stained shirt. “Don’t worry about it. It was time to get rid of that shirt anyway.” He gives a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna grab a new shirt, then we’ll be on our way?”
You hum. “See you soon.”
Jungkook’s eyes follow you and Namjoon as you bid him farewell. You lower your head and purse your lips when you approach Jungkook.
“Date night?” he asks, turning to you.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Just wanted to drop off a cake I picked up for you,” he points to the box on the counter.
You see the bakery's name on the box, and it’s from your favorite place. You undo the tabs and unfold the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake with various shades of baby pink and blue, then sitting prettily on top is one of your favorite Sanrio characters: Cinnamoroll.
“Kook–you didn’t just pick this up.” A cake like this was ordered well in advance.
His eyebrows rise, and he gives a half-smile. He walks beside you. “Happy early birthday,” he says as his eyes flick to yours. “See you tomorrow.”
When the door shuts, you wince.
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Namjoon has a brilliant mind, and that intimidates you. He's far too intelligent and reasonable for a hopeless romantic who lives in their daydreams and wants a ring on their finger by tomorrow.
The two of you come to a crowded spot in the museum. You look back and smile at Namjoon. He puts his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind. Your stomach somersaults from the affection, but you continue leading the way through the sea of people, trying not to focus on it.
An announcement reminds museum go-ers that they’ll be closing in 15 minutes.
“Should we head out soon?” you ask with disappointment. You thoroughly enjoyed hearing Namjoon talk even though you had nothing insightful to say about the numerous art pieces.
The corners of his mouth curve up. “But we have one more exhibit to see,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He holds out his hand for yours.
You’re intrigued, so you don’t question and place your hand in his.
Everyone starts to file out toward the exit, but the two of you enter an exhibit hidden away in the back.
“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?” you ask.
He chuckles. “You’re cute,” he says before showing you his work ID and security badge.
“Oh,” you giggle. It makes sense. Namjoon did say he was an ‘art curator.’ He just never mentioned where he worked.
“Feel free to look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”
You take your time, roaming around, going from piece to piece. Namjoon stays in place, waiting until you’ve found something. You tilt your head, examining the drawing.
[ frida castelli, milan ]
It's a woman. Her back is bare, and she's curling her hands into the bedsheets. The drawing is cut off right at the small of her back, and one can assume the rest. It's erotic–as this exhibit displays various works from modern artists.
Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”
Horny, you think, but considering this is your first date. You probably shouldn’t blurt it out.
“I like the position she's in,” you say, and Namjoon chokes on nothing. You cover your mouth and can’t help but laugh.
“I like that position too,” he adds.
You try to suppress your smile because now, you’re thinking about the two of you in that position.
"Should we keep looking?"
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After a late-night dinner, you’re standing outside your door, not wanting to say goodbye to Namjoon. You’d invite him in, but tomorrow’s a big day, and you have an early wake-up call.
“I hope I was able to answer your questions,” Namjoon says, leaning his shoulder against the door, facing you.
You give him a small smile, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I think you answered everything."
He hums and parts his lips. "Well, I have one question for you, if that's okay."
You nod.
"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"
You lick your lips. "It's not my birthday yet."
Namjoon steps forward, scanning your face. "You can consider it an early birthday present."
"Well, I won't say no to a birthday present."
Your heart is swooning over this tall, handsome man. He’s perfect. He's brilliant and well-spoken. Someone secure and confident, even emotionally available. You’d be a fool not to want this to go further.
Your gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his lips, unsure how to respond. You've been wondering what they taste like all night and want to kiss the freckle underneath his lip. They look so rosy and pillowy, almost like kissing a cloud.
He softly presses his lips against yours. His big hands cup your face. His nose brushes against your cheek. His lips encapture your top lip, then your bottom. He lingers briefly before pulling away, his lips ghosting over yours, and you want to return for more–you’re not done.
“Do that again,” you whisper.
His breath is warm, and he smiles before going back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands are placed on his taut chest, fingers curling and tugging on his shirt. The butterflies in your stomach are yearning for a way out. The desire in you grows deeper. You’re breathless at this point, but you don’t care if you never breathe again.
First kisses always make you go weak in the knees, and you wish you could experience them over and over.
“Your lips are stained,” you notice when you pull away. 
Namjoon chuckles; his thumb swipes at his bottom lip. “That’s okay.”
He moves in to kiss you again, but you stop him by putting your index finger to his lips. “The birthday girl should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
You render him speechless—he made the first move, but you’ll have the final say.
You bid goodbye to him, trying your best not to linger and give in to your urges. Peering through the viewfinder, you see him smiling and shaking his head before he closes the door to his place.
You’re grinning from ear to ear as your back is against the door. The date couldn’t have gone better–though you probably couldn’t write a dissertation on Modern Art in Korea, you appreciated that he took the time to explain what he loves and why he’s so passionate about it.
Maybe he could be the one.
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It’s midnight when you’re under the covers and still glowing from your date with Namjoon.
You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:22 PM Hey! I found some cool birth flowers. Do you like any of these? [ 5 images attached ]
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:27 PM And my tattoo guy had a last-minute cancellation for Monday at 6 p.m. I’m gonna book you for it, okay?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 10:05 PM I can go to hold your hand if you’d like.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:11 PM I hope you had a good day. See you tomorrow, birthday girl.
This differed from how you wanted to celebrate your birthday week, especially not how you envisioned your friendship with Jungkook. Did you ruin it?
And that’s when your heart aches as you reflect on this past week. Jungkook has been so sweet, and you feel like the worst friend. Could he be into you, and you’re blind to notice?
But what about Namjoon? He’s undoubtedly checked off all the boxes you could want in a partner.
Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.
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saturday.
The sun is peeking through, and the birds are chirping away. You’ve slept through your alarm because you’re still in dreamland.
You’re unsure who’s in bed with you. All you hear is a groan and shuffling as they reposition themselves. You peer over your shoulder, quickly turning away when they pull themselves closer to you. Then, as an arm comes into view, draping over you, you recognize the inked skin.
It’s Jungkook.
A buzz from your phone and a bang at the door awakens you. Missed notifications of calls and texts from Jenn, your best friend, flood your screen.
You sprint to the door, unlocking and opening it for her.
“Jesus Christ—I thought you were dead,” Jenn says after she brushes past you, setting several bags on your kitchen counter.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, babe,” she blinks, giving you the once-over. “You haven’t showered, have you?”
You shake your head no.
“Well, go! It’s your birthday, but we can’t wait all day for you.” She shoos you off to the bathroom.
When you’re out of the shower, Jenn’s sitting in front of your vanity, putting on her blush.
“So, how are you doing, babe? Still not over Theodore Boner?”
“Bonner,” you correct her.
You adjust your towel, tucking it securely. “There’s been some new developments,” you say, walking to your dresser.
Jenn slowly turns around. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with him? He was a walking red flag. Well, at the end of your relationship anyway.”
You press your lips together, shaking your head. “You know that time I was upset about my break-up with Jimin?”
Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.
“Jungkook and I went out and got pretty drunk.”
She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”
You cleared your throat. “I may have agreed that if Jungkook and I were still single by 30, we’d get married.” You turned around, opening the top drawer in search of cute underwear.
Jenn’s jaw drops. “You’re not going to marry Jeon Jungkook, are you?”
You laugh it off. “No, of course not! But he’s always been there for me after my break-ups.”
“Oh, how convenient that he also happens to be single by your 30th birthday,” she says dryly.
“Jungkook’s been a good friend, and if we were to get married, and that’s a big if, then honestly, I think we’d be pretty good together,” you explain.
You're not sure if you're attempting to persuade Jenn or yourself. You’re not going to lie. You’ve toyed with the idea this whole week.
“Why don’t you just date Jungkook then?” she asks, returning to add more blush to her cheeks.
You nibble on your bottom lip. “Err–well, because there’s a new guy.”
She whips her head back around. “I go on a solo trip, and you have not one but two guys who want to be with you?”
“Technically, I told Jungkook that if things work out with me and Namjoon, he doesn’t have to marry me.”
“Namjoon?”
“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”
“Shut up! Your neighbor?” Jenn stands, sprinting out your bedroom door. “Which apartment? I need to see this man.”
“Jenn!” You run after her, clutching her arm, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, will you? He’ll be at the party tonight.”
Jenn turns to you. “Babe–you have Jungkook and new neighbor guy vying for your attention? Sheesh. When can I be the main character?”
You grip your towel and drag her back to your room.
“At least tell me more juicy details,” she whines.
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Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror. Hot pink usually is not part of his wardrobe color, but he does it in a heartbeat if it involves you and your silly antics.
He slips the hot pink denim jacket over his white shirt and matching pink cargo trousers. He adds a neon green necklace to finish off his look.
This outfit is Ken-esque, right? He sighs, wishing you could be the Barbie to his Ken.
His roommate, Hoseok, knocks on his door, breaking his focus. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
Jungkook nibbles the inside of his cheek. This week’s been a rollercoaster of emotions for him. He was at an all-time high before you broke the news that you no longer need a back-up.
He’s gone back and forth, debating whether to fight for you or give up.
"I don't know yet," Jungkook responds. He glances at Hoseok through the mirror's reflection.
“Tell her how you feel. Be honest with her,” Hoseok says. He’s been telling Jungkook for two years now.
Jungkook turns around. “I can’t–” he pauses and huffs a breath, taking a seat on the bed.
Hoseok narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans against the door frame. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve done too much shit by breaking up her relationships. She’ll never forgive me,” Jungkook explains.
Hoseok choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Remember Jimin and Theo?”
Hoseok hums.
Jungkook clears his throat. “I may or may not have told some harmless lies that ended up in them breaking up with her.”
Hoseok huffs out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell her right off the bat that you wanted to date her.”
“I’m an idiot, that’s why, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t want me. She wants the neighbor guy.”
Hoseok sits by his friend. “It’s either now or never. You can’t keep breaking up her relationships because you’re too scared to be in a real one with her. You don’t want to start it off that way.”
Jungkook flings himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know! I’ve just never done this before. I don’t know how to act. She’s the first person I’ve had actual feelings for.”
Hoseok blinks at his friend, ready to say something, but Jungkook interrupts him. “Don’t say shit about that–many people don’t meet the right person until later in life.”
He holds his hands up in defeat. “There’s no judgment from me, my friend. Just consider my words before anyone gets hurt.”
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You swipe the lip tint across your bottom lip and repeat with the top. Glancing in the mirror, you adjust your dusty rose dress and tie your matching ribbon in your hair.
The theme for tonight's party is Barbie core, and individuals are encouraged to wear any shade of pink. You’re ridiculous, but you only turn 30 once–why not go all out?
Buckets of bubbly are filled with rosé bottles and floral ice cubes. Barbie-esque props, including heart-shaped sunglasses and cut-out foam lips, are ready to be used at the photo booth. You’ve spent too much time on Pinterest planning the perfect celebration.
It’s ten to seven and still too early for people to show, so you order a Malibu Barbie cocktail at the bar. Jin, the bartender, even tops off your drink with pink sanding sugar for this special occasion and throws in a little peach schnapps.
“There’s the birthday girl.”
When you turn around, you see Jungkook in a bright pink attire. Not every day you see him dressed in anything other than black or white, so you consider this a rare treat.
He offers you a warm hug, and you both act as if nothing has changed. It’s not like you’ve seen him every day as he’s dropped off gifts for you, or he willingly watched a rom-com and definitely hadn’t cuddled.
It’s like you’ve gone back to being just friends.
As you withdraw, you give him the once-over. “You look great in hot pink. I wish I got to see your matching toes.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t think sandals would go with this outfit.”
You shake your head no.
“You look amazing,” he adds, taking your hand and making you twirl for him.
“Thanks, Kook,” you grin. Your hand lingers in his as he delicately caresses your skin. The back of your neck is warming up, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake breaking off your deal.
“Ah, there’s our Barbie girl!” Jenn exclaims as she approaches you. Immediately, you let go of Jungkook’s hand.
“Hey!” you answer, rubbing the back of your neck. “What’s up? Did you need something?”
Jenn raises her brow at you and Jungkook. “I did, but you’re busy with Ken, so I’ll ask Hoseok to help me. Enjoy your night, babe.”
You take your drink and dash off with Jenn, telling Jungkook you’ll see him later. As you stroll behind her, you loop your arm around hers.
“Are you okay?” Jenn narrows her eyes, suppressing a smile.
You clear your throat. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It looks like you and loverboy were having a moment there before I interrupted,” she says, setting down the flower vase on the dessert table.
“He’s not my loverboy. I’m gonna start seeing Namjoon, remember?”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Look–all I’m saying is you should give Jungkook a chance. Anyone could tell he’s head over heels in love with you.”
You choke on your drink. “What? How come no one’s ever told me?”
Jenn laughs. “I never put two and two together until you mentioned your little agreement with him this morning,” she pauses, cupping your face. “And my sweet, innocent Barbie girl, he shoots heart eyes whenever you’re around.” She holds your chin, turning you in Jungkook’s direction.
Jungkook is leaning on the bar, attempting to find the perfect stance to appear cool, but he has no idea what to do with himself. He peers in your direction, catching your gaze, and quickly turns away, waving down the bartender.
She continues, “You’ve been with so many knockoff Kens that you were blind to the real one. He’s a bit of a goofball, but he seems sweet, and like you mentioned today, he’s always around when you’re in need.”
What if your decision was a mistake? Would it be too late to change your mind? You were sure Jungkook had already moved on after being rejected.
You watch while Jungkook drinks something–you figure it's vodka. A shot for yourself seems enticing, simply to settle your anxieties.
Your birthday is supposed to be filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, not you being torn between two great guys.
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The party is in full swing–the music’s blaring, friends laughing, chattering, drinking away. Everyone has arrived except for the one person you've been looking for: Namjoon.
You giggle when you scan the room and see Hoseok and Jungkook dancing in the corner. When your eyes catch him, he gestures for you to come dance, but you haven’t had enough alcohol to make a fool of yourself.
He sprints to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. “You need a drink before you dance, huh?”
Your lips thin, and you think, how does he know you so well? 
You nod and follow him from behind. You stare blankly as his hands are loosely intertwined with yours. He’s leading you through the crowd, letting go once you’re at the bar’s counter.
“Do you still want that pink drink thingy you had earlier?”
“Surprise me,” you say.
“Two Pink Cadillacs, please,” he says to Jin.
As Jin gets to work on your drinks, Jungkook makes small talk to kill time.
“Are you having fun?” he asks, standing before you. He sways to the song's beat, grinning from ear to ear.
You’d have more fun if you weren’t thinking about him and Namjoon all night. Considering that Namjoon hasn’t even shown up yet, you appreciate that Jungkook’s a sweet and caring friend.
“I’ll be having more fun once I have this drink,” you say over the music.
“You’re not having fun with me?” he jokes, holding out his hand for yours, and of course, you take it.
He draws you to him, makes you twirl around, and then dips you. A slight squeal escapes your lips when you come back up.
Jungkook chuckles. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“No, I’m–I’m having a good time,” you answer his previous question.
“Are you sure? It looks like something’s on your mind,” Jungkook notes. "You can always talk to me, you know."
Even after breaking off your agreement, he's still willing to be a good friend to you. How'd you get so lucky with someone like him?
"I know," you smile, draping your arms around his neck.
"Two Pink Cadillacs."
You break away from him, grabbing your drink. The two of you sip on them, watching the crowd.
"Jungkook, one. Hot sexy neighbor, zero," Jenn whispers in your ear before walking away.
You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at her. It’s been an hour, and Namjoon is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe something came up. Things happen. You get it.
"What's going on with Jenn?" he asks.
"Nothing," you reply as you move to stand before him. "You know how she is."
Jungkook takes another sip of his drink. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”
Your eyes widen and flick to him. Have you been obvious about what’s on your mind?
“Yeah, of course–” you say before a hand slides on the small of your back. You turn to see the man who’s been MIA, Namjoon.
“Hey, birthday girl. I’m sorry I’m late! It was a lot harder to find a pink outfit than I thought,” Namjoon chuckles, then he sees that he may have interrupted something. “Oh–hey, man! Jungkook, right?”
Jungkook gives a small smile, and you mouth, ‘Sorry.’
“Can I steal you away for a second?” Namjoon asks, and you oblige.
Namjoon takes your hand, ready to drag you off, but you stop and return to Jungkook. “Can we talk later?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your birthday. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jungkook looks on as you and Namjoon disappear. You laugh when he says something, and Jungkook can hear it–you always let out a tiny squeak, your shoulders bounce, and you cover up your mouth because you don't like how your teeth show when you laugh.
He rubs the back of his neck. He’ll have to find time to talk to you later.
Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”
Jungkook sips his drink and inhales sharply. “Her neighbor.”
“They look pretty cozy to me,” Hoseok remarks. “Go say something before it’s too late.”
It’s already too late, Jungkook thinks. He’s lost you again. What’s the point if he tried with you and you didn’t want him?
He chugs the drink and orders another round for him and Hoseok. He might as well enjoy the booze while he can–at least it would get you off his mind.
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Jungkook's vision is blurred, speech slurred. Even though he sees double, his gaze is still fixed on you and Namjoon, following you wherever you go: the photo booth, the bar, the dance floor. Namjoon’s hands haven’t left you, whether holding your hand or soft touches on the small of your back.
It should be him, he thinks, but he’s been turned down before. He couldn't imagine being rejected twice.
He leans on a high-top table, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it. A few of your friends drag you off to the photo booth for the umpteenth time tonight, and Namjoon is left waiting for you.
Jungkook waits and observes Namjoon, wondering why you’d choose Namjoon over him. He thinks he could take the guy in the boxing ring. He’s too big and sluggish to move as fast as Jungkook. Indeed, he could knock Namjoon out with his right hook. But if it’s not a physical thing you’re looking for, then it’s an intellectual thing.
He shakes off the self-deprecating thoughts. Why doesn’t he go over and chat the guy up? Get to know him. It won’t hurt to find out what kind of guy he is.
There's a queue of friends waiting to take individual shots with you, and you look over to check whether Namjoon is all right. You notice Jungkook approaching and breathe a sigh of comfort, knowing he'll keep Namjoon company.
Jungkook stands up tall when he’s beside Namjoon. “Lavish party, huh?”
Namjoon turns to him and chuckles. “Yeah, she went all out for her 30th.” He cracks his neck and adjusts his bright pink blazer.
“Since you’ll be around, you should get used to it. ___ throws parties like this all the time.”
“She does?” Namjoon’s eyes widened with concern.
Jungkook pouts and nods. “You think this is bad? Last year, she rented a private island, and everyone who attended had to buy a plane ticket to her party.”
Namjoon gulps.
“Man–and now that you guys are together. I'm wishing nothing but the best for you," Jungkook shakes his head. "The last guy was going through it.”
“Last guy? What happened to the last guy?”
Jungkook glances in your direction, then back to Namjoon. “Oh, you guys haven’t had that conversation yet?”
“What conversation?”
“Let’s just say there was a restraining order involved.”
There’s a look of relief on Namjoon’s face. “Man, that guy must’ve been a psycho.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “Oh no, no, no. The restraining order was against her!”
Namjoon shifts his position, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. Once, she took a bat to a neighbor’s car, thinking it was her boyfriend’s. Mind you, she was pretty drunk—and it was dark, but when she has an idea that you’re cheating on her, all hell breaks loose,” Jungkook tuts.
“Oh.”
Jungkook chuckles. “And don’t even get me started on her obsession with that one K-pop group, Seventeen. She practically has a shrine in her bedroom. Mingyu’s face is plastered on every square inch of her walls, and when they finally came on tour, she drained so much of her savings flying everywhere to see them—front row, I might add.”
Namjoon clears his throat. “I think I need a drink,” he says.
“But don’t worry, man, you’ll be fine!” Jungkook shouts as Namjoon walks away.
He lowers his head and rubs his face. He blames the alcohol for his stupidity. His string of lies is why you would never want to be with him.
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Although Jungkook has spewed many lies to Namjoon, it doesn’t scare him off. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. And when he sees Namjoon jet off somewhere, Jungkook swoops in, hoping he’ll have a chance to talk to you before it’s too late.
“Hey!” Jungkook says out of breath. “Going home?”
“Yeah,” you beam a warm smile. “I’m pretty wiped.”
“I can take you home, and then maybe we can talk?”
You nod. “Mm, that sounds like a plan.”
You’ve always found it easy to talk to Jungkook. Even though he claims not to be good at chitchatting, he knows how to make you smile and laugh.
“Did you see Hoseok and Jenn trying to undress each other?” Jungkook chuckles.
“Jenn claims she thought Hoseok was a Ken doll,” you giggle. “I don’t know why they keep skirting around each other. They should date already.”
You two arrive outside your apartment. You unlock the keypad, leaving the door open. Turning back, you see Jungkook standing there. “Are you gonna come in or talk to me from out there?” you ask, shaking your head.
Jungkook walks through the door, closing it behind himself. He smooths down his pants and fixes the collar of his jacket. His gaze darts around the room as he prepares to say what’s on his mind.
“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”
Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.
With a heavy sigh, he takes a seat on the couch. He keeps shifting his weight, but nothing feels right. The sweat on his hands increases as the seconds pass by. He's never done it before, confessed his feelings.
Jungkook had rehearsed like he was up for a big audition but felt he’d stumble over his words and blurt out bleh-bleh-blahs.
You resurface a few seconds later, wearing an oversized t-shirt and what appears to be nothing underneath, but when you sit down, he catches a peek at your shorts.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah, about us.”
You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Us?”
A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyebrows knitted together, wondering who it could be this late at night. When you open it, you find Namjoon.
“Hey! You left your phone at the restaurant,” he says. He acknowledges Jungkook as he steps in.
“Oh, thank you! Ah–don’t leave yet! I have something to give to you, too.” You dash to your room, leaving Jungkook and Namjoon.
There’s a moment before Jungkook breaks the silence. He turns to Namjoon. “That shirt she’s wearing is from her ex-boyfriend. She sleeps in it every night because she misses him.”
Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.
“Trust me–you should run while you can,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.
He points to the small Seventeen merch collection sitting on a shelf in your living room. “See. It’s cute and innocent until it’s not.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Namjoon says reluctantly as he turns away, trying to focus on other things until you return.
You leave your room with a bag, handing it to Namjoon. “I washed your shirt and bought you a new one too.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he reaches for the shirt, taking it out.
“I know, but I felt bad about ruining it.”
Namjoon chuckles. "I like how you're giving me a gift on your birthday."
You wave off his comment. "It's nothing. Thanks for returning my phone,” you say, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you later?”
He flashes a grin; his dimples etched deeply into those cheeks. You pull him down to kiss him on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his lips. You let it linger for a second longer, ensuring Jungkook can see it.
“Bye,” you whisper, closing the door behind him.
You stand with your back facing Jungkook. Clenching your jaw and your fists, you huff a breath. Turning around, you stare at the one person you thought was your friend.
“This is my ex-boyfriend’s shirt, and I sleep in it because I miss him?” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.
Your glare silences Jeon Jungkook, and his deer-in-the-headlights appearance implies guilt.
You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Have you been sabotaging all my relationships? Tell me the truth.”
You remember Jimin and Theo and how conveniently Jungkook had been there after each breakup.
There’s still no word from Jungkook. He’s playing with the invisible hair on his chin before he stands. “Yeah, but it’s only because—”
“Because what!” you exclaim. Never in a million years did you think you’d be yelling at a good friend. “Because you want to marry me? Why didn’t you just ask me out, Kook?”
The nickname causes his heart to ache. His eyes darted to the floor, then at you. “Because...”
You lean forward, waiting for his excuse, but he doesn’t give you one. You’re only met with silence.
“Because you’re the kind of guy who lies and manipulates to get what he wants? Didn’t really think you were that kind of person.”
“I’m not—”
“You are! If you cared about me, you wouldn’t go around spreading lies. And to think I was going to marry you? God–you must think I’m fucking stupid.”
"No, I don't think that at all—" he counters, taking a step toward you, and you take a step back.
Licking your lips, you play with your bottom lip. "I—I don't even know who you are anymore."
"I'm the same person you met two years ago," he says. Jungkook steps toward you again, reaching out for you.
"Don't touch me," you warn. "Don't you ever talk to me again," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You should go, Kook."
Jungkook walks past you. He makes his way to the door—and when it shuts, you flinch.
Approaching your 30s, you figured you’d be crying because you’re likely to have a mid-life crisis and not because one of your good friends has lied to you for the last couple of years.
Jungkook has misled you throughout the week. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.
Your heart aches from the pain. Why did this hurt more than a breakup? You trusted him, even considered marrying him and spending the rest of your life with him. How could you be so naive? Maybe it was your distorted perception of love and relationships, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.
Maybe it's your fault and no one else's.
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sunday.
It’s early. Too early for Jungkook’s taste.
He’s been tossing and turning all night. Wishing he could redo the last two years. Wishing he could’ve been honest from the beginning. Wishing you didn’t hate him right now.
Picking up his phone, he grumbles after seeing the time—six in the morning. There’s no way you’re up, he thinks. And there’s no way you’ll pick up his call either.
He assumes you’ve blocked him—wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t blame you.
The expression on your face is ingrained in his memory, and the lies he told are on a continuous loop. How would he win you back—if you’d let him, that is.
It’s that point in the romantic movie where the love interest finds the courage to go for it. Jungkook has nothing else to lose at this point. It’s now or never.
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With your favorite iced coffee and pastry in hand, he’s ready to beg for your forgiveness. Beg for another chance to make things right.
Three knocks strike your door. No answer.
He gives it another moment before doing it again.
And nothing.
He pulls out his phone, searching for your contact. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. At least you didn’t block him, he thinks.
Should he wait here all day? In hopes you’ll leave your apartment?
Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.
Jungkook figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He’s already lost his dignity.
Another three knocks, only this time it’s on Namjoon’s door. A few moments later, the lock unlatches, and the door opens.
Namjoon’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”
“Hey. Have you seen or heard from ___?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t.”
The corners of Jungkook’s lips turn down, and he nods. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lowering his head. He turns on his heel, ready to leave.
“Hey, Jungkook?”
He turns back and hums.
“If you like her, be honest with her,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Did ___ tell you?”
Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head no. “I figured you were lying when you said she made everyone fly to a private island. She mentioned that she’s never flown before. So I put two and two together, and it was hard to ignore all the glares you gave me at the party.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry about all the lies I told you. None of them were true—except maybe the Mingyu thing. She does have an obsession with that guy.”
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry about coming between you two. But it’s no wonder she likes you. You have your head on straight, unlike me.”
A grin sweeps across Namjoon’s face. “It’s okay. I get it, man. I’ve been there before—not the lying, but I’ve been head over heels for someone. ___ is cool, and you seem like a good guy. Just…don’t give up on her, okay?”
Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What about you guys?”
“Huh? Me and ___?” Jungkook hums. “We’ve been out on one date, and you’ve known her for…?
“Two years.”
“You have more history with her than I do.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”
Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’d be a fool to give up now. Trust me, you don’t want to live with the what ifs and what could have been.”
“Um, here,” Jungkook says, handing Namjoon the iced coffee and pastry bag. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”
He bids Namjoon goodbye, and as he’s driving home, he stares off into space, pondering Namjoon’s words.
What if you never want to talk to him again? What if he loses you?
He only wanted his chance with you; whenever he gathered the courage to do so, someone always came into the picture before him. He’s realized how much his lies caused more harm than good. He was cheating his way into your heart, which is unfair to you and him.
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You peek out when the elevator doors open, ensuring the coast is clear. You've seen the missed calls and texts but needed more time to be ready to face Jeon Jungkook. That's why you've been hiding out at Jenn's all day. But alas, you had to go home and face your fears.
Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.
It’s not like Jungkook’s been waiting around for you, right? Though, you didn’t want to make it known that you were home.
Not even ten minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s a knock on your door. Peering through your viewfinder, you check if the coast is clear and unlock your door. You grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the apartment.
"Whoa–miss me that much?" he jokes, setting down the iced coffee and pastry bag.
"What's that?"
"Jungkook dropped it off this morning, but you weren't here. Have you been hiding?"
You lower your head. "Yes."
Namjoon licks his lips. “He’s in love with you, you know?”
You ignore the coffee and pastry bag and sit on the couch. “It’s a weird way to show that you like someone by lying and sabotage.”
“I think it’s cute,” Namjoon chuckles, sitting beside you.
Disbelief is written all over your face: eyes wide, brows lifted, jaw open, which only makes him laugh harder.
“You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d say single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.”
“Is this a weird ‘guy code?’ Am I missing something?”
He shakes his head. “I get where he’s coming from. Does it suck that he lied instead of saying what he wanted? Yeah, but maybe he didn’t know how to say it because he feared he’d say nonsense in front of you. I know the feeling–where you like someone so much, you’re afraid of looking dumb.”
You ponder Namjoon’s words, sipping on your iced coffee. “You seem chatty. Does that mean you don’t go dumb around me?” you ask dryly.
Namjoon laughs. “I get butterflies and excitement every time I walk out my door, hoping I’d bump into you.”
“But?”
“But you should figure things out with Jungkook, and then we’ll go from there.”
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It’s silly—the glow-in-the-dark stars that are plastered on your ceiling. Half of them threaten to fall, and the other half are stuck on so tight it’ll take off the paint.
“You’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars before?” Jungkook asks. “Let’s get some.”
The only reason why they’re up there in the first place is because of him. Jungkook was comforting you after your breakup with Jimin.
You throw your duvet over your head, screaming into it. How could you have been so blind? So stupid? How are you supposed to face him again with your friend group? Or alone?
This past week was perfect—at least, you thought it was. But you’re second-guessing every interaction, every conversation, every laugh, every touch.
If you hadn’t met Namjoon, could you have fallen in love with Jungkook?
The more you thought about it, the more you hated that you were falling for him. Maybe Namjoon was just an excuse not to explore a relationship with Jungkook. Maybe you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, but then again, what did it matter because it’s been sabotaged by Jungkook himself?
How would you get out of this mess?
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monday.
A notification ding shows up on your phone.
[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]
Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.
You go through your text messages, finding the Instagram profile of Kai, who’s supposed to tattoo you. You frown when you see a cancellation fee and that the cancellation should’ve been done two days before the appointment. Now, you have to mentally prepare yourself for getting your first tattoo.
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The recommendations on your YouTube only show videos of ‘how much does getting a tattoo hurt.’ You know the pain that goes into a needle puncturing your skin. The question was, how high was your pain threshold?
When you walk into the shop, a bell chimes. It’s in pristine condition, as one would expect from a tattoo parlor. You’re greeted by a girl dressed in a black latex v-neck top. A sunray heart tattoo sits right on her chest.
“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”
She clicks through her computer and beams a warm smile. “For ___?” You nod. “Is Jungkook coming too?” she asks.
“Oh no. I don’t think so.” Was he planning on getting something, too? You didn’t think he’d show after everything went down.
“Kai is finishing up with a client, and he’ll come get you when he’s ready.”
You flash a small smile, taking a seat in their lounge. You’re picking at your nail beds and bouncing your leg. You’re trying to focus on anything other than what will happen soon.
A light noise of whirring fills the room. You close your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. It’s a small tattoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you think.
A part of you wishes Jungkook was here to hold your hand like he said he would. It's dumb even to want him to be here. But after spending so much time with him this past week, you admit you miss him.
"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.
You take a deep breath and follow him to his workspace.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”
“You’ll do great. I know it,” Kai smiles, sitting at his desk. He grabs his iPad. “Okay, what are we getting today?” Kai asks.
“Um, I turned 30 yesterday, so I wanted to get the birth flower for September,” you say, showing him the inspiration photos.
“Ah, Happy Birthday,” Kai grins. “Birth flowers are a great choice. Any idea where you want it and the size?”
"On the back of my neck, I don't want anything too big. Two to three inches."
"Oh–a woman who knows what she wants. There was no hesitation," Kai teases. "Cool–so, I'll sketch out a few options, and then we'll go from there. Sound good?"
You press your lips together and nod. As Kai's working on your sketch, you stroll around his workspace, looking at the illustrations hung up. There's traditional and fine line art, and you recognize a drawing of a snake—it looks like the one Jungkook has on his arm.
“See anything else you like?”
“I, um, recognize some of your work. You’ve tattooed my friend, Jungkook,” you note, turning back to look through more of Kai’s sketches.
Somehow, your nerves have finally calmed down. The whirring noise from the tattoo gun is like white noise to you, drowning everything out. You’re lost in the intricate detailing of the drawings. Tattooing is true art, you think. But instead of a traditional canvas or paper, it’s forever inked on someone’s skin.
“Okay, let me know what you think of these.” Kai shows you the iPad with a few flowers drawn out.
“You’re so quick,” you comment as you review your options. “Let’s go with this one.” You love how delicate and dainty the tattoo looks.
“If you need a break at any time, just let me know,” Kai gives a warm smile. “I apologize for the weird positioning, but I’ll need you to lay on your stomach, and your head will hang off the table.”
Your lips thin when you catch his gaze. You remove your zip-up hoodie and place it on a chair with your bag. Kai prints the design on transfer paper, putting the placement on the back of your neck. He hands you a mirror, ensuring it’s in the correct spot.
“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.
Once you’re on the table, the once-soothing noise of the tattoo gun flips a switch, and sweat builds up in the palms of your hands. The blood rushes to your head as your head is hanging off the table. You can see Kai’s feet as he steps on the foot pedal, ensuring his equipment works correctly.
You take a deep breath, trying to exhale fear and anxiety, but nothing works. The tattoo gun sounds closer, and the needle inches away from you. Your fists clench up, and you close your eyes, hoping it’ll be over quickly.
You can feel the latex glove on your back as Kai’s ready to outline the design. You can do this, you think.
With eyes still closed, fists clenched—you’re ready.
The shop's bell chimes again, but you’re too focused on this needle about to prick your skin. You can feel another presence. Their warmth is radiating on you. You figure it’s just the girl from the front, so you don’t bother to open your eyes.
Your fist unclenches, and not because of your own doing. It’s whoever is beside you. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of black motorcycle denim tucked into leather stomper boots.
“Hey—my man,” Kai stops and acknowledges. “Good to see you, Jungkook.”
“Hey,” Jungkook replies. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Nah, you’re right on time. We just started. I’m sure ___ appreciates you being here,” Kai notes, returning to tattooing you.
You didn’t want to admit it, but having Jungkook’s presence was comforting. A part of you wanted to be stubborn and pull your arm away, but considering that a needle was piercing your skin—it wasn’t a good idea.
Jungkook laces his hand with yours; his thumb lightly grazes over your skin. He leans forward, whispering, “Hi.”
You’re unsure if the shiver running through your spine is because of the needle or Jungkook.
While lying on this tattoo table, you’re at war with yourself. An angel on one shoulder tells you to stay strong and not give in because he’s holding your hand. The devil, on the other hand, is telling you you’re a simp and can’t resist when a man is fawning over you.
You hate that the devil is right, and you’re even considering Namjoon’s words, ‘You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d stay single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.’
Was it dedication or delusion?
You won’t lie. You’ve done questionable things when it came to love, too, so you couldn’t blame Jungkook. Maybe you should hear him out and see what he says for himself.
You’re silent, letting Kai do his thing. He and Jungkook chit-chat about life and future tattoos. The buzzing mechanical hum from the tattoo gun is constant and annoying—you’re growing numb to it like you’re growing numb to the pain.
But Jungkook’s touch? It makes you tingle. You’re keenly aware of how his thumb strokes against your knuckle—the constant squeezes, reassuring your anxiety when the pain shoots down your spine.
Through the years, that’s what Jungkook’s always been—he soothes your pain.
Maybe he’s responsible for your current pain - the shattered relationships and this tattoo you’re getting, but he always has a back-up plan: himself. He’s the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold—the constant, consistent one who shows up repeatedly.
He’s confusing but calming, and you’re annoyed at how much you don’t mind his touch. Your breathing slows, and your shoulders relax as you sink into the cushioned table.
“Almost done,” Kai notes.
That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.
Kai finishes cleaning the tattoo, and after you stand up from your awkward position, you’re face to face with Jungkook. Once again, Jungkook resorted back to his favorite color: black. He’s in an oversized long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and there’s a silver chain adorning his neck.
His doe eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth curve up. “The tattoo looks good on you,” he says softly. “Do you wanna see?”
Even with a mirror, the placement makes it hard to see the finished product. You grab your phone, open the camera app, and hand it over to Jungkook. You turn around, facing the mirror, holding up your hair. You catch Jungkook’s gaze and look away. His hand gently touches the nape of your neck, removing a stray hair. He snaps a few photos, handing your phone back.
“It looks beautiful on you.”
You mumble a word of thanks, grabbing your things, attempting to flee from his presence.
Pulling out your wallet to pay for your tattoo, you head to the front, but the girl stops you.
“Jungkook already paid,” she says.
The nape of your neck warms up, and your nostrils flare. You nod at the girl. Bumping into Jungkook on the way out, you stuff your wallet back into your bag, and Jungkook follows you, catching up.
“Why did you do that?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook.
"Because it's your birthday present. I couldn't let you pay for it."
You narrow your eyes, giving him the once over. “Why? So you can tell the next guy I date how we have matching tattoos and scare him off?” you retort, brushing past him.
Jungkook cards his hand through his hair. “Come on, that’s not fair,” he shouts, running after you again.
He calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you breathe a heavy sigh. “You’re right. It's not fair,” you give him a wry smile. “But doesn’t it sound like something you’d say? Mr. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.”
The third time must be the charm because he’s chasing after you again.
“Hey, can we talk, please?” he implores as his eyes scan your face.
You zig-zag around him.
He repeats by running and standing in front of you. “You can’t avoid me forever.”
“Watch me,” you retort, attempting to flee again.
Jungkook holds his hand up. “Just hear me out, and if you never want to talk to me again after that, then so be it."
You huff. “Only if you drop me off at home,” you say, crossing your arms. You don’t feel like taking the subway; it’s the least he could do.
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With hands in your lap, you’re waiting for Jungkook to say something, but he’s as quiet as a mouse. He’s missed two exits and been driving in circles, going past your apartment complex for the fourth time. You wouldn’t be surprised if a police car starts following you, considering how suspicious the two of you look.
You can’t take it anymore—the endless dancing around this conversation. “I thought you wanted to talk?” you ask as your eyes flick in his direction for a moment.
He straightens his posture, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road. "I'm, uh, I’m sorry for telling all those lies. It was stupid of me. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.”
You bury your face in your hands before turning to him. “If you liked me, why didn’t you tell me?”
You had come up with many scenarios in your head and thought back to your conversations and interactions with him. Jungkook had so many chances to say something, but he never did.
Jungkook shrugs and looks at you briefly before returning to the road.
“It’s easy being your friend, but to be your boyfriend? That scares me.”
You get it. Opening your heart, being vulnerable, and giving your everything to one person is terrifying. Sometimes, it feels like days, months, and years are wasted with one person when it doesn’t work out.
“Scared you’d screw it up?” you ask, turning to him.
Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.
With a sigh, you admit, “You were on your way to being a pretty good boyfriend.”
You hate that you found him so sweet and cute, even after everything that’s happened.
“I was?” he questions with widened eyes and turns off the ignition. He shifts to face you.
“Yeah,” you chuckle. Your hand lingers on the door handle. “Walk me up?”
The two of you are on opposite sides of the elevator. Jungkook’s leaning on the metal bar behind himself with his legs crossed in front of him.
He hangs his head before looking up at you. "What if I had been truthful from the beginning? Do you think we would’ve been together?”
You press your lips together and shake your head. “I don’t know, Kook. I guess we’ll never know.”
When the elevator arrives at your floor, it chimes, and you exit, and Jungkook follows. You stop outside your door, watching as Jungkook leans his shoulder against the wall, facing you.
You can tell when something is brewing in Jungkook’s mind. You’ve been friends long enough for you to notice some tendencies.
With an eyebrow lifted and his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek, he’s ready to lay something on you. He licks his lips, eyes flick to yours.
“Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says.
You can feel your stomach somersaulting when he doesn’t break eye contact. Your heart rate rises as you work harder to pump more blood than usual.
There were small, fleeting moments where you could picture yourself with him: weekend mornings with breakfast in bed and late-night cuddles on the couch.
“I’m trying my hardest not to feel something,” you confess. As much as he was scared to screw it up, so were you. You’ve never dated a friend. You’ve met all your ex-boyfriends through mutual friends. You’ve built fantasies of what a perfect boyfriend and relationship should look like, and Jungkook wasn't perfect–but neither were you.
Jungkook moves closer. “So you like me too?” His eyes dart from your parted lips to your eyes.
“I don’t not like you,” you say softly, stepping forward as you play with his silver chain.
"So where does this leave us?" He’s searching your face for an answer.
As always, your heart is at war with your head. The sensible thing to do is to stay friends. The foolish thing is to see how this could pan out. What if you could get your happily ever after?
"What would you do if I was yours?" you ask.
"If you were mine?"
You hum.
"If you were mine, I'd spend every waking minute with you. Asking anything and everything that comes to mind. I want to know what makes you happy and sad. I want to know what you love and hate. I want to know everything your heart desires." Jungkook eliminates the distance. "I'd pepper you with kisses all day–on your neck, cheeks, forehead, lips–everywhere,” he says softly as his eyes never leave yours. "If you were mine, I'd never lie to you again. I'd love you with every breath and never let you go." He’s eye to eye with you, hands cupping your face. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I was an idiot for not saying anything sooner. But if this is the only time I could be with you, I'll take it."
You gulp. Jungkook’s saying all the right things, everything a girl could want. You hate it. You hate that you’re a sucker for heartfelt moments and love confessions. Neverending cartwheels occupy your stomach. The little gymnast in there is going for the gold–doing back flips and leaps; there’s no way to stop them. Your heart beats faster for him than for anyone else–even more than Namjoon.
All it took was a silly agreement and a few lies to make you realize you didn’t want a perfect boyfriend or relationship. Forget getting married by a certain age. Forget the expectations of you instilled by society. This boy was a bit messy, a bit ruined, but a beautiful disaster.
Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.
You take another second to look at him because what you want to say next will change your friendship.
“Kiss me,” you say softly, your gaze dropping to his lips.
“Are you sure you want me to kiss you?”
You nod.
If there’s one more thing to add to Jungkook’s list of fears—it’s ruining your friendship.
“I won’t be able to stop if I do,” he whispers.
Restless is how you would describe Jungkook. Restless when it came to telling your exes lies. Restless in his ability to sit still. Restless as he chews on his bottom lip–it could be how he incessantly licks his lips or just lacks hydration. You’ve never noticed before how badly he needs chapstick.
But Jungkook’s within touching distance of your lips, and all you can think about is how much he needs chapstick. Your sweet peach one, you think.
Maybe you should offer him some.
“Then don’t.”
It’s slow and gentle when he kisses you. He’s taking his time. There’s no urgency. No tongue, no hands beneath your shirt, or roaming your body. Nothing like that.
It’s like he’s been waiting so long to do this. It’s like he’s forgotten any other mouth existed but yours. You’ll forget your name or where you are when you finally break away from his lips.
He consumes every thought you have, and this is what you were afraid of–that you’ll become addicted to his kisses. You’re unsure how long you can stand before he has to carry you to bed.
His breath is warm and sweet. You love him breathing life into you and taking it away over and over. Your hands curl into his shirt, tugging him as close as possible. Tilting your head, you open your mouth to catch more air before kissing him again. Lips upon lips are discovering each other.
Jungkook pulls away, his nose nudging yours. He kisses the corner of your mouth and your cheek. He’s on his tippy toes, kissing your eyelids, then your forehead.
“Okay–don’t stop,” you say, breathless, reaching for another kiss. “It’s for scientific reasons.”
He chuckles. “Are you researching how long someone can go without breathing?”
“Mmhm.” You reach again, but he pulls back, making you pout.
“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, ‘Where does this leave us?’ he asks.
You realize he won’t kiss you until you answer him. You cock your head to the side. “I like you, but it will take a minute for me to trust you again.”
Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”
“So–we should take this slow and see where it goes.”
He sucks in his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “What about Namjoon?”
The two of you hear someone clearing their throat, and you look in their direction as they appear from the hallway. It’s Namjoon, giving you a quick wave.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says as he walks to his door. “I saw you guys when I turned the corner, but then I ducked back into the hallway, waiting for you to…finish.” Namjoon presses his lips together into a smile.
You turn to Jungkook. “I’ll be one second.”
With a sprint in your step, you head toward Namjoon. “I’m so sorry you saw that.”
Namjoon laughs. “Why are you sorry? I knew I didn’t have a chance against Jungkook. I was waiting for you to realize you wanted to be with him.”
Your eyes widened. “You knew?”
His eyebrows raise, and he nods. “Mmhm.” He leans forward. “We had fun, but look at the guy.” Namjoon glances at Jungkook. “I would’ve felt like the back-up until you two got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about me. Go–he’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks Namjoon.” A sense of relief rushes over you, and you’re thankful he understands.
Returning to Jungkook, you’re no longer looking at your back-up plan. He’s the one you want to wake up next to, the one you want to laugh with, smile with–he’s become your first choice.
He extends his hand for yours. “So, should I get my tux pressed?”
You deadpan.
“We’re practically engaged now, right?” he jokes before leaning in for a kiss.
You press your finger into his taut chest, pushing him away. “Be fucking for real, Jungkook. We’re going inside and watching my favorite rom-com–While You Were Sleeping, so you can see the consequences of how lying gets you in trouble.”
“Oh, I love that one! It's the one where she pretends to be engaged to the guy in a coma, but she falls for the brother?”
You slowly turn to him, mouth agape. “You really have seen a lot of rom-coms, haven’t you?”
“I may have learned a thing or two from them.”
“Yeah–lying!” You scold him as you enter the apartment. The two of you continue bickering back and forth.
Who knew you’d be living in a romantic film of your own?
3K notes · View notes
carbondioxidewater · 28 days ago
Text
Make A Move (Pt. 2)
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americanfootballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader
genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst
warnings: none so far
word count: 2.3k
(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 3) (-> Pt. 4) (-> masterlist)
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The next week, you didn't hear anything from Sukuna. You thought that maybe, he lost interest in you, but you should learn just how wrong you were soon enough.
You were sitting in class - it was thursday - and the lecture has not started yet when your former jerk of a group partner took the seat beside you. Great, you thought, of course he had to be in the same course as you.
"Hey." he greeted and you responded back. Then it was silent. Eugh, how awkward.
The door was still open when a certain someone walked past it. Of course, you immediately caught his eyes. He stopped walking and smiled mischievously, when suddenly, he saw the guy next to you, his attention now on your conversation. Sukuna quickly realized that this was the boy you were fleeing from when you two first met.
"You know, it was very rude of you to leave me hanging in that restaurant..." Sukuna heard the guy saying.
"Do you know how embarrassing that was?"
He kept eavesdropping, his brows furrowing with every word.
"I can imagine, I would be embarrassed too." were your only words. Sukuna suppressed a chuckle. He really liked your attitude.
"That's it? You don't even want to apologize?"
"What for?" you asked and met his gaze, indifference in your eyes as the guy went furious.
But before he could speak any further, his aggressive body language was enough for Sukuna to intervene. He came up to you and positioned himself behind the chair of your classmate, roughly pushing it back.
"Hey, idiot. Fuck off, will you?" he expressed loudly, cocking his head up in an order to leave. You looked up in surprise, confusion on your face, because why was Sukuna here?
Your classmate was ready to fight whoever it was behind him, but when he saw that it was Sukuna, he quickly dropped that plan and retreated without hesitation. Bewilderement decorated your face as Sukuna sat down on the now empty seat, staring daggers at the guy before turning back to you.
"What are you doing here?" you then asked, still completely dumbfounded by the current situation.
"What? No thanks?" Sukuna smirked, his whole demeanor changing, whereupon you raised your eyebrows in annoyance. He continued.
"I've witnessed your little talk by chance and figured I should rescue you from that douchebag."
"I could have handled it myself. I don't need a savior." you shook your head.
Sukuna huffed in amusement.
"Oh, believe me, I know that. But why should you worry your pretty little head when this fucker doesn't respect your boundaries anyways?"
You stared back at him.
"It is my duty as a man to hold other men accountable when they step out of line. I can't just turn a blind eye to it, you know. It can get dangerous real quick."
You furrowed your brows at his words, unsure if he was being sincere or if that was just his trick to get women to like him.
"What? Don't believe me?" he questioned at your dubious look.
"I don't know yet." you declared, studying him closely.
"Whoa, I feel like I'm being examined. I should warn you, I'm into that." At that last statement, he smirked again.
"You're into being looked down on?" you laughed quietly, not wanting to cause too much noise as the room was still quite silent.
"As long as it's you who's looking down on me." he murmured and you just watched him, eyeing him up and down.
Then he came closer to you, only inches away from your face now. He opened his mouth and his eyes stopped at your lips, staying there for a while before looking back up and narrowing them.
"Careful inspector, if I didn't know it better, I'd think you want to seduce me."
The smirk on his face widened and you groaned in disgust, waving your hands in withdrawal.
"Okay okay, you can go now." And your voice changed to a faked tone of appreciation. " 'I'm safe again thanks to you.' "
He snickered at your sarcasm and got up when he saw your professor entering the classroom, bidding you goodbye.
"See you soon, sweetheart."
And your heart missed a beat.
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After class ended, the universe found it necessary to send Sukuna your way again - or more like - send you his way. One time a day wasn't enough apparently, because as you walked down the floor, who stood there in front of the lockers was no other than the popular boy himself. He was surrounded by a lot of people, a few of them were probably his football teammates, as you distinctively heard them talking about defensive strategies.
When you walked past the group, Sukuna immediately recognized your silhouette and followed your figure with his eyes. It didn't take long and he excused himself, quickly running after you. Just as you exited the building, he stopped you in your tracks.
"Hey, are you off now? It's getting pretty late, need a ride home?" he offered, holding the door open for you.
"Hey," you greeted him, walking through the entryway in perplexion, "no thanks, I'm good." Although you were curious, did he have a car?
"Come on, do me the favor." he insisted and you exhaled.
"Do you think you're entitled to a favor now for playing hero earlier? If that's the case, then-" but he interrupted you.
"No, you owe me nothing. I just want to make sure you get home safe and aren't walking home alone in the dark."
"Wow, I have to admit, you're really good at this whole player thing." you mocked him.
"You think I'm playing with you?" he laughed and then opened his mouth to say something else.
"So, is it working then?" he joked, voice deepening in an instant before you hit his arm playfully.
"Just kidding, just kidding!" he held up his hands in retreat.
"I'm not playing, though. I mean it." he confessed after.
"Well, I don't really know you and I don't get into strangers' cars."
"Strangers'? Ouch." he pressed his hand against his chest in feigned offence.
"Good thing I don't have a car then, though." he smiled coyly which left you confused.
"Didn't you just ask if I needed a ride?" you repeated his words and he swiftly cleared up the small misunderstanding.
"I was talking about my bike." he then grinned, pointing to the spot behind him, where the motorcycle was standing.
"A bike?" you sounded surprised.
"Yeah? You ever been on one?" you shook your head at his question while he got his bike ready. But, admittedly, you always wanted to experience what it was like to ride one. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to accept his offer.
"What? You've never been on a bike? Well, then it's your lucky day today. Hop on." he said, but you were still indecisive.
"And let you know where I live? What if I don't want you to?" you smiled, irony obvious in your voice. But Sukuna played along.
"Your tone alone tells me you live in a dorm. Am I right?" Your smile simply grew and that was all the confirmation he needed.
"Knew it." he muttered.
"So you were speculating about me?" you instantly reciprocated.
"Always." he grinned and handed you over the helmet.
"Here, take mine. I only have one."
"What, and let you drive without one? No, I'll pass then."
"Calm down pretty girl, it's not the first time I do this." Pretty girl. Why did that name fluster you?
"You mean taking a girl with you?" you teased. He just flicked your forehead.
"No, silly. Driving without a helmet. So don't worry about it."
"Oh, so you're allowed to worry about my safety but I can't worry about yours?"
"Exactly." he gave you a teethy grin and your tummy fluttered in response. You weren't blind - he was incredibly handsome. There was a reason he was so popular after all, but up until now, you've never really noticed it, always somewhere else with your thoughts. Your two worlds were fairly separated before, so you didn't bother dealing with him.
"You're cute. Now come on, before we spend the whole evening here. I'll drive extra careful for you, promised." he assured you, half serious half joking.
A pout spread on your face and you were still hesitant, but Sukuna managed to convince you eventually.
When you sat down, he told you to hold on tight. Not knowing where to put your hands though, you decided to place them on his shoulders shyly.
"What are you doing?" he asked next and turned around, a puzzled look on his face.
"Uhm, you told me to hold on tight..." Did he want you to hold onto the bike instead?
You immediately drew your hands back in embarrassment, however, Sukuna was quick to grab them with his.
"You're supposed to cling to me. This way, you just bring me out of balance and risk falling. Here, put your arms around my waist."
That's what he said, but he did the job himself, dragging your arms around his strong built. You could practically feel the muscles behind the fabric, it was undeniable that he hid a sixpack underneath it. Your heart started racing and you hoped and prayed he didn't feel it pounding on his back.
The drive only lasted for about 10 minutes, your dorm was near the college after all, and here and there Sukuna popped a question, asking if you were okay or if you enjoyed the ride.
It was nice of him to keep the conversation going, even though it was difficult to hear him at times due to the heavy wind. When Sukuna tried addressing you once more and only a "huh?" escaped your lips, he laughed whole-heartedly, the contagious sound making you break out in laughter too. In that moment, you felt so free and careless, and you were so grateful Sukuna took you with him.
Sukuna stopped in front of the dorm complex and turned off the engine. He looked up at the building and started speaking.
"So, a dorm girl, huh? You sharing a room with someone?"
"Not a room, but the apartment. We have two bedrooms." you answered and he hummed.
When you walked up to the front door, Sukuna waited on his bike a few meters away, wanting to see you get inside. You searched for your keys, but as much as you were rummaging through your bag, you just couldn't find them.
"What's wrong?" Sukuna yelled.
"I can't find my keys." you admitted, panicking before remembering you left without them this morning.
"Can't you ring the bell?" He asked you and you explained to him that your roommate Utahime was still working.
Making his way up to you, he pulled out his phone, apparently sending some messages. He seemed distracted for a split second before he tucked the device back into the pocket of his pants.
"Where does she work? I will drive you there."
"No. No, you really did enough for me already, I'll just walk there. But thank you, for everything." you tried brushing him off to not be any more of a nuisance, but he wasn't having it.
"I wasn't asking, I'm definitely taking you there." he commanded and his casualness about it had an effect on you. It was so attractive, the way he was chauffeuring you around the city on the single mission to make you get the keys for your apartment.
Arriving at her workplace, Utahime went speechless seeing you coming in with Sukuna. While he was busy with the soda machine, you explained her the situation and she gave you her keys under the condition you let her in later. She obviously couldn't outwardly ask you about him in his presence, so you two communicated via facial expressions. Utahime tilted her head into Sukuna's direction, a flabbergasted look on her. You tried your best to let her know you'd clear everything up later as he already neared the two of you, the prominent silence seemingly suspicious. He seemed to notice the weird atmosphere.
"You guys good?" Sukuna broke the silence.
"Of course! Everything's perfect!" Utahime exaggerated and you pressed your eyes together in humiliation, facepalming inwardly. Sukuna mustered her strangely, taken aback by her overreaction as well. After that, he turned to you.
"Here for you. Saw this drink on your table earlier, you must be thirsty." he reached you the drink he bought and both Utahime's and your mouth fell wide open at this action.
"T-thank you." you stuttered a little and Utahime let out a small laugh she failed to suppress. You sipped on the bottle of strawberry-vanilla soda and then stored it in your bag. Sukuna was simply drinking water.
Leaving the lobby, Utahime was the receptionist in a 3-star hotel, Sukuna and you walked back to his vehicle. On your way, he mentioned the weird ambience inside.
"Your friend is a little odd, isn't she?" he pronounced and you chuckled, nodding your head slightly.
"A little, yeah." you agreed, "but she's the best."
Sukuna looked at you with a soft smile, but you didn't see it.
As you sat down on the bike and Sukuna got the helmet out of its case, you've come to a realization.
"Can I ask you something?" you uttered.
"Spit it out." he permitted.
"How did you know I don't have a car myself?"
He lips twitched upwards.
"I've never seen you in the parking lot. But I've seen you walking around plenty. I put two plus two together." He's so attentive.
"Someone's been looking out for me." you beamed.
"Guilty." he smirked and slipped the helmet over your head, locking the straps. You looked up at him with big eyes and he met your glance, his half-lidded eyes observing what's left of your face. The tension was palpable for the both of you and before it got too awkward, he was already shoving down the helmet visor to escape your eyes.
The ride back was silent, but he still watched you walking through that door before leaving.
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Soo here's part 2 hehe! Had to make Sukuna a lil' feminist because he's supposed to have a functioning brain <3. Hope y'all enjoy!
taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus , thanks for the support 🤍
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moonstruckme · 7 months ago
Note
He would never take those bracelets off 😭 now I kinda want a fic of counselor James and counselor reader how cute
Hi, I've lowkey been hoarding this for months because I wanted to wait until I felt summery enough, thank you for requesting!!
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 693 words
“Land ho, boys!” A familiar voice reaches you over the water. Your eyes are closed towards the sun, but you feel your lips twitch upward. “Thomas, if you don’t help Callum paddle you’ll fall behind, and the last one to shore has to buy me a popsicle after dinner. Hey, look, we’ve got a mermaid on our beach!” 
You turn your head to the side, squinting your eyes to see James and his cabin of boys paddling toward you in kayaks over the lake. You lift your hand in a lazy wave. 
“Oh, false alarm, it’s just y/n. Hi, y/n!” He raises an arm to wave back at you, wrist stacked with string bracelets made with care by small hands.
You swear he’s got more from your own campers than you have, but you don’t mind; James is a hero to most of the kids, the goofy gentle giant who lets them ride on his shoulders when your manager isn’t looking and deals temporary tattoos out of his cabin during mealtimes.
“Careful, Archie, mate, if she catches you rocking your kayak like that she’s going to hang you from the lifeguard stand by your toes.” The boys laugh, and James protests, “No, really! I’ve seen her do it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You roll your eyes and close them again, turning your face back towards the sky. It’s not until you hear the shushing of kayaks against the coarse sand and a shadow falls over you that you say, without opening your eyes, “Spreading rumors about me again?” 
“They know better than to take me seriously.”
James’ shadow moves as he sits beside you on the sand, and you turn your head again to see him. He’s looking over his shoulder at the boys, the lean muscles of his abdomen stretching and dusky skin shining with sweat in the afternoon sun.
“Hey, whoever puts my kayak and paddle up, I’ll buy them a popsicle after dinner.” Shouts and bickering ensue, and James turns back around with a smile. “Where are your kids?” he asks you. 
“In arts and crafts,” you say. “Figured I’d catch a nap while they were busy.” 
He hums, setting his hands on the warm sand behind him and leaning back. “So you didn’t just come here to see how fit I looked dragging a paddle through the water?” 
You know James is only playing, but embarrassment tingles down to your toes anyway. “Not this time, sorry.” 
“Mm, don’t believe you.” He shoots you a grin, and you look away under the guise of rolling your eyes. That thing is more glaring than the sun. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” 
“Don’t we have to?” you ask. It’s the last night of this session, and camp always closes out with a bonfire and s’mores for the kids. 
“I mean the other bonfire.” At your blank look, James continues, looking rather too pleased to know something you don’t, “After the kid’s bonfire, when they’re all watching a movie in the cafeteria, some of the counselors are planning to go out into the woods and have a grown-up’s bonfire.” 
You giggle. “Grown-ups? What are we, twelve?”
James bobs his head. “And we’re gonna have s’mores, and tell ghost stories, and maybe play truth or dare,” he says in an exaggeratedly animated tone. “It’s gonna be super cool.” 
“It sounds super cool,” you agree, laughing. “I’ll be there.” 
“Excellent.” James casts a look over his shoulder and starts standing up. “I should get back to my kids before they injure each other.” 
You check the time and sigh. “Yeah, me too.” 
“Want a hand?” 
You reach up and James takes your hands in his, hauling you upright. Your head lightens once you’re vertical, a combination of your sun-warmed skin and James’ touch making you woozy. 
“See you later?” he asks, releasing your hands and starting to back away as the shouting behind him grows more boisterous. “I’ll come find you in the cafeteria, we can walk together.” 
“That’d be great, thanks.” You start walking away, too, ignoring the pleasant buzzing in your chest. “I wouldn’t miss it.” 
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httpsseli · 4 months ago
Text
𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 ✿; 𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒
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;𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍. in which you tease ethan by sucking on a loli <3.
;𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving) brat!reader, switch!ethan, hair pulling, slight choking. silly ending x
authors note// gif is not mine at all! found on pinterest so whoever made this, credits to them! first time writing for this cutie so lets see how this goes🫡🫡.
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it wasn't part of your weekend plans to sit down on your counter stool with ethan, but there he was in your apartment. ethan, the nerdy and cute boy, always seemed to shyly ask you for help, no matter what the occasion was. you couldn't help but notice his nervousness and blushing around you, as well as his attempts to look away. you also knew that he liked you, based on the compliments he gave and the way he reacted to your scent.
meanwhile for you, he was a cutie. he was a caring sweet boy, he always offered to stop by your house just to hang out and play video games, the two of you always shared a moment of giggling but you guys were idiots desperate and needy for each other. there was clearly moments where you heard him touching himself to you from the next door apartment that he shared with chad, ethan himself has also had an encounter of your sweet moans he wants to hear in person and not through a wall.
and now, here you two were. tutoring and chatting about whatever in life.
“so.. y-you turned this i-in, already?” he said looking at you, you looked back. that dirty thought coming back to your head as you nodded your head, “yes you dork, i always turn everything in before you..” you laughed holding onto the lollipop you’ve been sucking on. he rolled his eyes, you wrapped your lips around the sucker, looking at ethan. his curls and his natural puppy eyes making you already wet yourself.
“o-okay! so..” you cleared your throat, accidentally putting your hand on his thigh, sitting up. he looked at you quickly, you looked at him smiling and laughing. “sorry!” you said, he blushed a bit and you went back to sucking the flavor off the lollipop. he looked at your plumped lips, covered in that damn blueberry lip gloss. “hello! your homework is down here.. not my lips!” you said, he looked at you again, his eyes having a little sparkle. “h-huh? s-sorry..” he said, your finger pressing on his thigh. “w-what are you..” he stuttered, swallowing dryly.
you swirled your tongue around the sucker, “nothingg, i’m just helping you with your homework..” you said, he felt blood rush down to his cock, and a boner would appear minutes later. you sucked loudly on the lollipop, ethan knew you were taunting him. “alright that’s enough.” he grabbed the candy throwing it across the kitchen, “hey! why’d’d you—“ he looked at you. “get up.” he said, you scoffed with your mouth hanging open. “uh no..” you crossed your arms, he got up pulling you from the chair. “ethan what the fuck! ow!” he threw you across his shoulder, slapping your ass harshly causing you to blush and smirk.
he went to your room, closed the door, and locked it before throwing you on the bed. you were about to sit up before he grabbed your cheek, kissing you deeply and hungrily. you kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. he caressed your clit through your panties, causing you to whimper in his mouth. hands starting to tangle with his curls, he tugged on your tube top. “take it off.” he said breathlessly before diving back down to kiss you. you pulled away, giggling pushing him down on your bed this time.
“don’t get too hard e..” you said giggling, looking directly at his boner. he rolled his eyes, you got out of your white converse before pulling down on your skirt. his breathing hitched, your hands traveling up to your boobs. you pulled down the top, your boobs bouncing out while you pulled the top off. you walked over to ethan, who was eyeing every little thing, his eyes glued on to you. you sat in front of him, sitting on your knees. you palmed his boner through the jeans smiling. “is this where you need me badly?” you said giggling, you unbuttoned his jeans.
his breathing slowly began getting heavier as time went by, you pulled down both his jeans and boxers at the same time, his cock springing out as you looked at his length. your mouth watering at the sight, your motion picking up itself already starting to stroke him, you spit down onto the tip. collecting the wetness as your hand moved up, he tilted his head holding back a groan. you wrapped your mouth around the top, he groaned. you swirled your tongue around in little circles, and you began to take in more, accelerating your breathing through your nostrils. he leaned his head back, letting out a moan. you bobbled your head slowly, he looked down watching your head movements. his hand making contact with your hair, tugging on it. “look at me when you do this.” he panted.
you hummed, bobbing your head matching the rhythm of your head with your hand that was jerking him off. “so so good.. fuckkkkghhh..” he whined, laughing breathlessly. your eyes all teary, hollowing your cheeks, dipping your head in deeper. he moaned softly, picking up more of your hair into a shifted ponytail. you looked up at him, and he bucked his hips up causing you to gag. “just exactly what i wanted to s-see..” his stomach turned into putty, and with a bit of strength he got up. he pushed on your head deeper, thrusting his cock into your mouth now. you held onto his thighs, your nails leaving crescent marks on his milky skin. you gagged, once the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. you pulled your mouth away, gasping for air. a string of saliva and pre-cum attaching onto the bottom of your lip to the head.
you looked up at him, stroking him slowly yet again. he grunted, holding onto your hair tighter. you took him back in your mouth, bobbing your head quickly. he looked down at you, your watery eyes causing him to twitch in your mouth. “j-jesus, you’re incredible at this..” he stuttered, you moaned around him bobbing your head deeply. he bit down on his bottom lip, and you snickered at how noisy he was. “oh fuck i-i’m going to..” he moaned loudly pushing your head deeper, your nose against his pelvic bone causing you to gag, he filled your mouth up with his sweet liquid. you pulled your mouth away.
he sat back on the bed, and you stuck your tongue out at him. he looked down at you, and you giggled giving him a wink before swallowing his seed. his cock twitched when he saw your mouth covered in his cum, and your mascara nearly smudged off including your white eyeliner, you pulled on his shirt, “take it off..” he pulled the bottom of his shirt over the top, taking it off. you sat on his lap, kissing him deeply, he kissed back already slipping his tongue in, gripping onto your ass. just as you were about to roll your hips, he gripped onto your waist holding you tightly against his chest. he put you down against your pillows. “you’re so fucking noisy.” you said catching your breath from the deep kiss, he slapped your hip. “we’ll see about that sweetie, maybe your even more noisier.” he said tilting his head.
your eyes were too focused on his eyes and his face, not even focused on what his hand was doing. he smirked, wrapping his hand around your thigh, and lifting it onto his shoulder. “mhm, sure.” you said rolling your eyes, he pushed himself in causing you to whine. he chuckled pulling out, “you can take more right? after all you enjoyed mouth fucking that lollipop.” he said slamming himself in fully. you arched your back with a loud cry, he thrust rapidly not letting you adjust to his size. your hands gripped onto his bicep, your moans were way too loud. nearly sounding like a porn video was being shot, he covered your mouth with his palm.
“shut up.” you moaned into his hand, legs wrapping around his waist, he found himself at a deeper angle causing him to moan every time he slid himself in, he looked down at your boobs watching them bounce up and down, his fingers were close to your mouth, you opened up your mouth taking his fingers into your mouth. his eyes slightly widened, and you sucked onto his index finger hoping your moans went quiet. his tight grip unexpectedly on your waist turned you around. you giggled, turning your head over to your shoulder.
ethan’s cock twitched at the view of yourself in your fours while your hair was flicked to the left side of your shoulder. you rolled your eyes, “just going to stand there gawking at my ass?” you said, he slapped your ass causing you to moan. “less bratty, more moaning.” he said, slamming his cock inside you again causing you to let out a long moan. he shoved your head into the blanket, your hole filled with the mix of your wetness causing a milky color against his dick and your ass.
you gripped onto your pillows, arching your back even further out. “what a brat, begging for more aren’t you?” he said slapping your ass, the second slap leaving a mark. you were moaning repeatedly, his cock making wet noises against your ass. he pulled on your hair, making your head lean back further.
“answer me y/n.”
“yes!” you said, he let go of your hair. “don’t.” thrust “drop.” thrust “your head.” he said, you nodded your head quickly, “mmhm!” you said agreeing, he held onto your shoulders, fucking into your g-spot hard and senseless. your mouth starting to sore from being opened due to your moan. “feels good after you fucking teased..huh?” he moaned out, you nodded your head. “use your goddamn words.” he slapped your ass, and you cried out. “y-yes e! feels so fucking amazing!” you said, he gripped your waist tighter. he kissed your neck, his tongue dragging across your skin, and your body felt incredibly full from his cock. “g-god i’m so close to cumming.” he said, you didn’t even answer.
you let your moans do most of the responses, he began sucking around your neck, taking his time marking you. your walls began to tighten at another round, but you were so tired and fucked out of your mind. your orgasm was coming in closer, the burning sensation causing you to sob out a moan. “oh fuck! oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” you screamed when he pushed himself into your g-spot again as you gushed around him. he moaned uncontrollably, cumming inside you, pulling away from your neck with a pop. he grunted jerking himself off getting the bits of cum to spill on your ass. you fell on your stomach, breathing heavily, heart fluttering.
he slapped your ass one more time, causing you to whimper. you turned around after a few seconds from the slap, “what about.. another round?” he said, your eyes widened while your brows furrowed. “a-are you crazy!” you said slapping his arm, he giggled. you laid down, trying to control your breathing. you closed your eyes for a moment as you were already falling asleep.
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by the next morning, you felt a slight weight on your chest. the sounds of the doves calling out and the cars driving by made you gain consciousness back. “get off my boob..” you whined, your hand resting on his back, fingers running up and down. “your such a grumpy girl..” he said, you groaned smacking his back softly. you looked down at his eyes, you sighed softly. “you’re very pretty e..” you said, his eyes shot up to lock with yours. “y-you think so?” he spoke, fingers poking the side of your tit, you nodded. “you’re also a very smart boy, and you’re caring too..” you said quietly, his cheeks turning pink.
“are y-you confessing to me?” he said, you nodded your head. “yes you dork.. i enjoy every little moment with you..” you spoke, playing with his curls. he buried his face into your tits from embarrassment. “so.. what are we then?” he muffledly spoke out, and you giggled. “you’ll see later..”
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moonchildstyles · 8 months ago
Note
has Older!Harry ever had to work later than he thought, maybe running into plans he had with pretty girl?
wordcount: 3k+
—————
"What do you think, H?" 
(Y/N) twirled in front of where Harry sat on his couch, showing off the new dress he had pushed her into rewarding herself with (with his credit card, of course) after getting through midterms. He'd seen the photos online, but she wanted him to get a look at the real thing—see if he liked it on her as much as he said he would. 
Looking up from his phone, he gave her a bright smile. "Sweetheart," he crooned, appraising her with an adoring gaze, "Y'look—" 
His phone buzzed in his hand, the disturbance cutting him off as he was forced to glance down at the device. His features posed into something grim with a set line on his jaw and pursed lips. 
"What is it?" (Y/N) asked, fiddling with her nails with her purse hanging from her wrist. He'd been attached to his phone since he'd come over to pick her up, constantly going back and forth between doling out his attention to her before being taken away by his phone. 
He shook his head much like he had done every other time (Y/N) had asked what had been going on. "Jus' something at the office—trying to figure out what happened." 
"Is it bad?" she asked, sinking into the couch next to him in hopes of skimming a glance at his screen. 
"A little, if it is what I think it is," he murmured distractedly, scrolling through a report (Y/N) had no hopes of recognizing. 
Quietly, she watched as he tapped away, aware of the time ticking down towards their reservations. "Do you think you'll be done before we need to leave?" 
Seemingly suddenly realizing the time, he heaved a sigh. "I hope." 
Just as the words left his mouth, an incoming call colored his screen. 
"Hold on," he told her, rising from his seat with his phone in a tight grip, "If 'm not off the phone by the time we need to leave, come and get me, 'kay?" 
As soon as she gave a nod, Harry had his phone pressed to his ear and was heading upstairs towards his office. His voice was rumbling and low, but she could hear the curt tone even from where she sat. She watched as he disappeared up the staircase before pulling her own phone out. She'd give him ten minutes, she decided—it would be cutting it close to the reservation, but she didn't want to stress him out any more than he obviously already was. 
—————
(Y/N)'s lips thinned as she watched the time tick off one more minute.
6:45pm. 
Harry had been tucked away upstairs for the full of the ten minute timer she had set for him. She hoped the problem wasn't as bad as he had feared, but she had a feeling it was that or much worse. He hated being late for any kind of appointment, so she doubted he had just lost track of time while working. 
Rising to her feet, joints popping from being folded up on his couch while she had waited, she started for the stairs. Her heels clicked over his floors, following her up the case and towards his office. Only a few paces away, she could hear him speaking behind the door. None of the words were clear, but it definitely wasn't a good sign to hear him still on the phone.
She quietly knocked on the door, pausing for a moment before pushing it open. Peering around the wood, she found Harry just as she figured she would: sat behind his desk, features pinched and sharp as he stared at his computer screen with his phone pressed to his ear. 
He hadn't even noticed her peeking in, mumbling something to his associate with his eyes reflecting whatever he was scrolling through on his screen. Clearing her throat, (Y/N) finally gained Harry's attention. 
His features quickly softened at the sight of her. 
"H? Are you ready to go?" she peeped, hoping whoever was on the other end of the call couldn't hear her. 
Lips thinning, he murmured an excuse to his call before pulling the phone away from his ear for a moment. With the receiver pressed to his shoulder, eyes speaking apologies before he'd even shared a word.
"Sweetheart," he started, the syllables floating on a sigh, "I can't leave, yet. 'S worse than I thought." 
While she was sympathetic to whatever he was dealing with—Harry never liked to bring work home if he could help it, especially if it was problem based like this—she couldn't help the way her shoulders deflated some. "Will we still be able to make dinner? It's almost six." 
Harry glanced at the time himself then, hesitating meeting her eyes once more. "I don't know, love. 'M so sorry, I really didn't think it was going to be this complicated." 
"It's okay, it's okay," she waved him off, already creeping out of the room, "I'll call and see if they have anything later, but don't worry." 
A sad smile wormed its way onto his lips, molding into the apples of his cheeks though the curl didn't meet his eyes. "Thank you, love." 
After offering her own small smile, (Y/N) slipped out of the room with the door clicking behind her. Taking in a deep breath, she slipped her phone out of her bag before pulling up the restaurant's website. She had a feeling, just with how coveted their original reservation was, that there wouldn't be anything else available but she didn't feel like telling Harry that kind of news at the moment. 
Taking in a sigh, (Y/N) started towards the stairs with her phone pressed to her ear. 
"Thank you for calling Elio, how can I help you?" 
"Hi—um—I have a reservation in thirty minutes, but I was wondering if..." 
—————
After shooting off a text to Harry that there wasn't anything else available fore the night, (Y/N) had resigned herself to a night on the couch. Even when he'd answered with a promise that he would figure something out as soon as he fixed whatever was going on, she hadn't bet on the possibility. 
When it came to things like these—problems outside of his control, unanticipated mistakes—Harry had a hard time letting them go until they were back up to his standards. He wouldn't be able to relax enough to spend the night with her, she knew that. Instead she had only messaged him back that she'd be downstairs for him whenever he was ready with a heart emoji tacked on the end. 
That was how she found herself tucked into the cushions of his couch, shoes kicked off under the coffee table, and a fluffy blanket over her lap with one of her reality TV shows on screen. She wasn't paying much attention to the scenes, the episode one she had already seen, instead poking at her phone for entertainment. 
As the time ticked on, closer and closer to Harry having been stuck working for over an hour, part of her wanted to head upstairs and see if she could pry him away. If he finished soon, they could still at least go out somewhere, keeping her dress and makeup from going to waste. But, she could still hear his rumbling voice at times carrying through the walls—he was still stuck on the phone. She could only imagine the kind of stress he was feeling if he was still stuck on the same problem almost an hour later.
Curled on his couch, (Y/N) almost winced when her stomach growled. She had kept herself from snacking after class, knowing she was going to want to have all the room possible for the immaculate dinner Harry had planned. Now, with the time ticking well past their reservations, she was feeling the consequences of her abstinence. 
Though she wasn't particularly keen on the idea of padding upstairs and asking Harry if he would be okay with some takeaway for the night, there wasn't much else she could do. (Harry had been teaching her as much as he could when it came to the kitchen, but that didn't mean that she was particularly good yet). Especially after she had made the choice to indulge in watching too many sushi videos that popped up on her social media—she doubted she could wait for Harry to finish up before scampering off for dinner.
Moving upstairs, (Y/N) paused outside of Harry's office, her ear keen to the door in hopes of finding a good time to pop in. Though she wasn't encouraged at the stretching silence on the other side, there wasn't much of a better time, she decided when she finally knocked on the door.  A responding grumble came from the other side.
Peeking inside, he didn't look much different than when she had seen him last. Now, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and his hair mussed, but that pinch between his brows lingered with his jaw in a strong set. He looked tired this time when he glanced up at her, the fan of his lashes becoming a drooping frame around his eyes. 
"Sorry," she started, keeping her voice low at the sight of his phone still pressed to his ear, "Um, I was thinking about ordering dinner, if that's alright with you?" 
He took a moment, pulling his phone from his ear, poking at the mute button before clearing his throat. "Are y'sure? If I finish soon, I can still take y'out," he told her, voice softer than what she was sure he was sharing on the phone. 
"It's almost eight-thirty, H," (Y/N) gently reminded him, resting her head on the doorjamb as she gazed at him, "I'm sure you're hungry, too." 
He seemingly suddenly realized there were other things going on than the emails and clients he was dealing with. He deflated after taking in a deep breath. "Right. 'M sorry, (Y/N), really."
"No, it's okay, don't worry. I under—" 
"Mr. Styles, Dean has the group scheduled for a conference call in the morning, but is—" 
"Michael," Harry said, pulling the phone to his ear with the speaker off and mute unselected, "'M going to have to call you back." 
(Y/N) was taken aback at his sudden suggestion, though she continued listening from where she stood at the threshold. She hoped he wasn't ending the call on her account. 
"Ten minutes, and I'll call y'back. Can y'handle that, or do I need to keep holding your hand?" 
Maybe it was a bit harsh, but (Y/N) had to hold back her laughter with her hand stamped over her mouth. It wasn't like her boyfriend at all to snap at anyone, including his colleagues, but she couldn't Balme him after being corralled in his office for over an hour. The man on the other end—Micheael—must have stood down seeing as Harry hung up the call with nothing else to share. 
Plopping the device face down on his desk, Harry pulled in a sigh before fixing his eyes to (Y/N) once more. "C'mere, pretty girl." 
His open arms were an offer as she padded across his office. He collected her against his chest once she had rounded his desk, pulling her as close as he could with her folded in his lap. 
"'M sorry," he murmured, voice low in her ear as she settled her chin on his shoulder with her arms looped around his middle, "I didn't mean to ruin the night, sweetheart." 
"It's not your fault," she reminded him, "And nothing is ruined. Sometimes things like this happen. I'm not mad." 
He pulsed his arms around her, tightening his hug with a kiss pressed to the side of her head. "You're too good to me, love. Thank you." 
Drawing away, (Y/N) shifted until she had his cheeks cradled in her hands. Thumbing at his cheekbones, she attempted to draw a smile out of his solemn features when she squished his cheeks with his lips forced into a puffy pout. Her responding laughter was enough to have him straining against her hands with his own attempting smile. 
"You know I'm never upset to stay home," she told him, leaning forward to peck a kiss to his puckered lips, "It's okay, H." 
"Promise?" he mushed out, words muffled against her squish. 
"Promise," she resounded, giving him another kiss before releasing his cheeks, "I think I'm going to order Chinese, so just come down whenever you're done and it'll be waiting." 
His arms were a cradle around her, one that kept her locked on his lap as he pressed forward and gave her a lingering kiss. "I love you, you know that?" 
"I do," she answered, smiling into his kiss, "I love you, too." 
Though he opened his mouth, prepping to say more, his phone began to buzz on his desk once more. (Y/N) could feel the way he deflated in response, hesitant to answer the call. 
Untangling herself from his lap, she gave him a soft smile. "Finish whatever you need to do, okay? I'll be downstairs whenever you're done." 
His apology was clear on his face without a single word having to be shared. "I'll be fast," he vowed. 
"I know." 
With that, Harry pressed the phone to his ear with a sharp greeting while (Y/N) scurried out of his office. Though she was still tired and hungry, she felt better after getting a chance to talk to him. She doubted he would finish up as fast as he wanted, but she hoped he understood there was no pressure to be felt on her end. 
Chinese food kept perfectly well, anyway.
—————
"Goodnight, Micheal. Have a nice weekend." 
Harry didn't wait for a send off on the other end, hanging up on his coworker as soon as the words left his mouth. He'd heard enough of Micheal's voice to last a lifetime, especially after finding out that this entire mixup was nothing more than a paperwork error he hadn't properly checked the first time. Nonetheless, Harry was just happy to no longer be glued to his phone with his laptop lid shut for the foreseeable future. 
He dreaded to look at the time on his phone, but knew he had no choice. 
10:16pm. 
Sighing at the sight, he pocketed his phone with his joints cracking as he stood from his chair. (Y/N) had been quiet for a while now, no more padding around coming from the floor below for the better part of the last half hour. 
She had been so understanding, letting him disappear and forcing them to cancel their dinner plans only for her to give soft condolences and sweet kisses in response. He hoped she hadn't fallen asleep before he could make it up to her as much as he could. 
Making his way downstairs, the streaming service she had pulled up on his television was paused on one of her favorite shows, the program asking if she was still watching. The coffee table was set up with Chinese takeaway containers, everything clean and sectioned away with his own servings still packaged and warm. He knew what he would find when he peered over the back of the couch, but he still felt a bit of guilt when he saw her wrapped up in a too-small throw blanket on her body and a too-stiff decorative pillow under her head. 
Her hair was clean of every pin she'd used to style it, her dress replaced with comfortable pajamas, and face clean and shining in the low light. She was asleep, her breath coming in small puffs with each line and plane of her features left relaxed. 
He didn't even tell her goodnight. 
Petting his hand over her temple to push stray baby hairs out of her face, he allowed his fingertips to linger over her skin. The warmth of her was enough to thaw the strain he hadn't realized he was still carrying in his muscles. 
This would never get old, he decided. The evidence of her around his home was enough to get his heart kicking against his ribs, but to find her on his couch after a long night was something he hadn't realized he craved until he met her. Though he would prefer to have had more time with her, the stress of the night seemed worth it when he came downstairs to see this. 
If not for the fact he was just as hungry as (Y/N) had guessed by the amount of containers she left out for him, he would have tucked in beside her and slept off the stress. Instead, he settled for kicking off his shoes and heading for the linen closet for a warmer blanket to spread across her form. 
With (Y/N) snuggled under the fleece, he settled himself on the floor beside her. Though it wasn't a show he enjoyed watching without her commentary, Harry still pressed play on the episode she had left off on. He kept the volume low, reaching for the chopsticks that had come with the delivery. 
Twirling a bite of lo mein on the sticks, Harry hesitated before that first bite despite his gnawing stomach. Maybe it was the fact he couldn't get her soft face out of his head the last time she'd come to his office, or the way she had arranged all of his favorites out for him to pick through by the time he came downstairs, but it didn't feel right to have his dinner without her. 
There was no way he was going to wake her up, but that didn't stop him from reaching for the hand she had sticking out from under the blanket. Though it wasn't a particularly comfortable angle, he laced his fingers between hers. His chest warmed when she seemingly recognized his touch, reciprocating his hold as best she could in her sleep before snuggling the back of his hand to her cheek. 
Despite the cooling food in front of him, Harry let his eyes linger on the peaceful set of her features and the way she clung to his hand. A small smile thumbed a dimple into his cheek. 
He'd still be making it up to her tomorrow, but tonight hadn't turned out too bad. 
—————
thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas you want to share please send them in!!! if you want to read more you can check out my patreon:)
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hotheadedhero · 7 months ago
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Now hear me out-
Bayverse turtles giving reader a spiderman kiss. Like maybe the turtles haven't seen their beloved significant other for a while and decide to sneak away from patrol for a split second to give them an upside down smooch.
💜
AN: Hearing you loud and clear my lovely, this is frickin adorable, thank you! Big spiderman fan over here <3 Hope you weren't waiting too long, even being on holiday wasn't going to stop me finishing this 👀
Kiss me
Bay Turtles x Reader
Leonardo
You are in the middle of reading on your couch when there’s knocking at your window. A set of rhythmic taps that play out in a particular pattern. A secret code indicative of who is waiting outside your living room. With a joyous grin, you spring up onto your feet and pull the curtains open. You expected to see your boyfriend outside but you did not expect him to be hanging upside down from your upstairs neighbour's part of the fire escape. Given the fact that yours is currently classed as unsafe to use, this makes a lot more sense.
The set of circumstances that led to such a problem is not your fault. Whoever had lived here prior, assumed it would be a great idea to place a blow-up paddling pool on it for those dreadfully hot summers. The funny thing about chlorine water, however, is that chlorine water accelerates the corrosion of metals. Much to your derisive luck, it didn’t start taking effect until a few months after you had moved in. Without any substantial evidence, the blame is being passed over to you and that is not a bill you have the funds to meet. Hence, you are awaiting a hearing and, hopefully, following approval to get it fixed without burning a said hole in your pocket. Landlords, am I right?
You open the window for Leonardo. “I see you came to hang out,” you quip before smiling awkwardly. “Sorry about the broken fire escape.”
He shakes his head, knowing that you should be the last person apologising for it, but decides to make light of the situation with his own humour. "You may want to look into that."
"If you got a spare grand or two lying around," you joke in return, "I'd be happy to."
Leo breathes a quiet laugh and puckers his lips. Figures that he would only have time for a quick greeting, so you may as well make it worthwhile when you have the chance. Happily, you comply and lean forward for a kiss. You smile into it and, in doing so, you feel him do the same. It can be hard to find the time for small moments such as is but they are always cherished.
"Now go keep us safe,” you mumble against his lips. “I’ll come by the lair when you’re done.”
One last kiss is exchanged, trying to savour it as best you can, before he inevitably has to disappear into the night again.
Raphael
Sometimes dating can be a whirlwind of mystery and uncertainties: days where one wonders if such a thing is tenable. Raphael knew your relationship would come with certain hurdles - albeit this isn't the worst it could be - but he didn't think you'd go this long without seeing each other. With you working during the day and him the night, planning time together is a challenge. For the quieter nights, you’re usually too tired from your job. There’s the occasional drop-in on your days off but it’s a similar problem what with him needing sleep, too. Not now, though. The frustration is settled thickly into his skin. Perhaps that’s why he’s working so hard on his crunches. Replace the mental burn with a physical one.
Deciding to turn up the burn, he lifts himself onto his pull-up bar, hooks his knees over it, and resumes working on his core. Raph gets close to a hundred reps before he hears the rapid pitter of feet coming straight for the lair. He prepares to descend to the ground and greet you but you rush into his gym and grab his face before he gets the chance.
"Just wanted to drop by quick," you sputter feverishly before smacking your mouth into his. "Can't stay long."
Then you kiss him again; a long, deep, and tender press of your lips upon his. He falls into it enough that the raw emotion is clear but not so much that he slips from the pull-up bar. The fact that you’ve hurried in before your shift just to give him some quick love means the world to this big lug. He should think about missing you more often if it means the universe will summon you to him. One hand outstretches to pull your head closer but you move away just as he's about to. Damn.
Sprinting off, you shout out a last, "Love you," before disappearing off into one of the many sewer tunnels.
He just hangs there gaunt, blinking for the after-image of you that is now completely gone. Had he not been taken so sharply off guard, he probably would have made a grab for you, insisting that you call in sick and stay. In a perfect world, maybe. A short huff of amusement blows out of his nostrils and he returns to his workout, now fueled with a new, more desirable burn.
With a smirk and underlays of that soft smile you coax out of him, he whispers under his breath, “Love you, too.”
Donatello
As far as work days go, this one has been a doozy and getting back home couldn’t possibly be a more sweet reward. There aren’t many floors to climb but you’re so tired that you opt to use the lift instead of the stairs; a little self-treat and a decision that you quickly regret when it comes to a halt. Your poor, weary body jostles with the force of it stopping abruptly and you whine. Please, don’t do this. After the day you’ve had, this is the last thing you need.
Just when you think it can’t possibly get any worse, there’s a thud from right above your head. Bandits? Burglary? A raid? All stupid ideas in the grand scheme of things but panic is leading you to such irrational thoughts. With your rucksack as your only defence, you hold it up ready to bring a smackdown if needs be. Clanging. Creaking. Weight shifting. Then, the ceiling’s latch falls and down comes a head.
“Mind if I drop by?” your turtle boyfriend asks as he hangs all topsy-turvy in front of you.
“Oh, thank Mercury, it’s you,” you heave, letting your bag drop to place a hand on your chest. The prior anxiety wears off just enough for a new one to beckon and you straighten up. “Wait, the security cams-”
“Already taken care of,” he reassures with a weirdly cheeky grin. “How’s this for some spontaneous romance?”
Slowly, your face pinches and points up at Donnie, not overly impressed with what’s insinuated here. So, this was all curated by him, was it? Possibly a cute plan from his perspective but you’re much too drained to see it that way.
You rub your eyes with your thumb and finger and sigh. “I wouldn’t consider giving me a near damn heart attack romantic, Don.”
“Would it be considered somewhat romantic if I were to say that I also reset and upgraded your lift system? It shouldn’t malfunction for another 5 years now.”
Knowing he’d find a way to have a sweet reason for this, you can hardly hold back your smile. It’s a bit out there but you also have to remind yourself of who you’re dating. You sigh again, this time in fake disdain, and lean off the wall to kiss him. Judging by the little hum in his throat, he must be feeling pretty proud of himself. When you pull away, you adjust his slightly crooked glasses.
“The best thing you could do right now is let me get to my apartment,” you note with a pat on his cheek. “Please?”
His eyes light up and he disappears back up from whence he came to get things running. Getting back home may have been trickier than you anticipated but it isn’t without its perks for being able to see Donnie. A conversation may need to be had about his choices of flirtatious spontaneity, however.
Michelangelo
In the late hours of the evening, you had decided to start settling down for the night. The typical, run-of-the-mill routine: brush your teeth, wash your face, and get into some cosy pyjamas. A nice movie sounds like a good idea before you hit the hay. You leave the bathroom to get a start on choosing one when you remark something in the air. It isn’t clear but there is an unspecified something different with your apartment since you’ve been in the bathroom. A smell? Or perhaps a few objects that now appear to be out of place. There wasn’t any noise to indicate a new presence. Ah. You know exactly what’s going on. Keeping back a laugh, you place your hand on your hips.
“I know you’re up there, Mikey,” you say, not even bothering to look up at your intruder.
“Aw, babe,” he whines from the ceiling as he lets the upper half of his body fall and hang limply in front of you. “Ruining the moment here.”
These types of hijinks may have pulled a fast one over you back in the day but you’ve grown more than accustomed to them by now, much to your boyfriend’s dismay. He isn’t inherently set on scaring your socks off - as much as that is a bonus - but he likes surprising you, seeing the sparkle in your eyes when you realise it’s him. He looks like a bit of a wounded puppy for the fact, so it only seems fair that you perk him back up again. Playfully rolling your eyes, you take a few steps forward and kiss him sweetly. It’s safe to say that this is much better than getting you all frightened. Regardless of that, you have to quietly question how he’s managed to find the time to come and attempt a prank at your expense in the first place.
“Mikey,” you hear one of his brothers yell from outside, “Don’s picked up on a burglary from the police scanners. We gotta go. Now!”
That answers that, then.
“Duty calls, angel,” he breathes out, clearly bummed out but feigning it against his lax grin. “You know how it is.”
Sensing his disappointment, you peck his lips again and grin encouragingly. “Go get ‘em, hero.”
He shoots you a wink and lets himself drop to the floor before jumping out of your window. You watch him bound off over rooftops, hollering and likely getting an ear chewed off by his brothers. Mikey hates to leave his sweetness behind but you know just what to say to get him fired up. Those thugs shall endure a swift beat down, so he can return for his “hero’s reward” quickly.
If you liked this, there's a real neat one by @theyhavetakenovermylife with the 2012 boyos with the same concept! (and also you just have to check out all of their works, they're amazing 🙏😭💕)
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majestyeverlasting · 2 months ago
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𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰 | 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞
Pairing Frank Castle x Reader [friends → lovers] 
Summary A fresh start with no more loose ends—that’s what you promised yourselves. But when a quick outing stretches longer than expected, dread creeps in and reveals how deeply you care for Frank when he’s finally back by your side [3.7k] 
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A/N First time writing for Frank. Deeply appreciate Jon Bernthal’s embodiment of the character ♡
The rain hasn’t stopped by the time the van eases into the parking lot, where the water on the ground reflects the cherry-red motel sign shining against the night. It makes no difference to you—lips parted, head tilted against the passenger side window—until Frank gears into park and taps your thigh with two thick fingers. 
Your eyes flutter open to tiny droplets pattering on the outside of the cool glass. That’s when you notice how still the world has grown. No more potholes, smooth turns, or periodic swells of acceleration to pass other cars who thought they had all the time in the world. 
After cutting the engine, he runs a heavy hand down his face and tips his head back, disheveling the back of his dark hair against the headrest. It’s gotten longer. So has the coarser hair of his beard. He never asked for your opinion, nor had you mustered the courage to give it, but the look suited him, as if it was innately right. As he briefly closes his eyes, he misses the way you turn to study his profile, noting how the bridge of his nose catches the glow of the lights outside.
A satisfied hum escapes you as you stretch out your legs, drawing his attention back your way. He blinks observantly, eyebrows set in that eternal furrow that makes him hard to read. But you know he’s alright—content. There’s no other reason not to be. A couple hundred miles ago, he’d tied off one final loose end, and the world went silent for the first time in a while. It was over. No more living ghosts breathing down your necks. You and Pete Castiglione were free to start a new life, be whoever you wanted to be. That’s what you told yourselves. 
Clearing his throat, Frank shifts in his seat and reaches into the cup holder, tossing the room key into your lap. “Room 103. There’s two queens,” he tells you. “I’ll grab the bags.” The finality in his tone suggests he won’t entertain any alterations to the plan.   
You reach down to grab your crossbody. “Can I get this one, or is it too much?” You’re trying to be funny. He waves you off, mumbling under his breath, but there’s an undeniable flutter in his gut when you smile at him before hopping out of the van. 
He purses his lips when you break into an amusing little jog, eager to escape the rain and key into the room. A muted yellow fills the space as you flip on the lights. No sooner does he watch you peek through the curtains like a groundhog popping up from its burrow. It’s hard to make him out, but you swear you can see him chuckling from behind the windshield. 
It’s impressive how he manages to carry both your belongings in one trip. He hums in appreciation as you hold the door open for him. Rather than dumping everything in the main walkway, he trudges the extra few steps to where more space opens up, and a small bench rests beneath the full length mirror hanging on the wall. 
The air is thick, as it always seems to be at motels, but the citrus undertones suggest recent cleaning. You stake your claim on the bed closest to the bathroom, ready to settle in. The wrapper of a meal bar crinkles as you dig it out from your purse. 
Frank’s own mattress squeaks as he plops down onto the foot of the bed and lays back, tucking his hands behind his head. The movement makes the hem of his hoodie rise up just enough to reveal the light trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button. It’s not the most comfortable bed in the world, but you’d be back on the road in the morning headed for central Virginia. 
A modest house in the Blue Ridge Mountains awaited, courtesy of one of his buddies who lived further north in Quantico. Of all the other options, it seemed like a promising place to find your footing away from the endless bustle of New York City. 
“Frank?” He looks over at you. “Thanks.” For everything, you want to add. 
“No worries,” he says. A few moments pass of the rain slowing down outside. It’s a lulling sound that masks the quiet gurgle of your stomach. 
Eyes closed, Frank hears you begin to peel open the bar you’re holding. It’s one of the protein-packed ones that are supposed to taste like chocolate, but always end up too chalky. It’d been a while since the late lunch the two of you had. 
“I’ll go get you something hot.” He sits up. “Passed a few places coming in.” 
You can see how drained he is from driving. It’s in his voice, the slump of his shoulders. “This’ll tie me over for the night,” you insist.
He looks at you with partial belief. Frank was the type who could get caught up in the task at hand and go without eating, if it wasn’t for your reminders. Earlier, he’d brushed over his hunger, only to sit down across from you in that cramped diner booth and inhale his hamburger and fries as you watched with amusement sparkling in your eyes. That look often spurred him into a spiel about how he could get by on a handful of nuts every few hours if he really wanted. 
But there was no such talk this time around. The food was good and hearty, and he enjoyed sitting down and sharing a meal without having to look over his shoulder. There was also something special about the way the sunlight streaming through the windows caught your eyes. 
“Really, Frank. It’s been a long day,” you say as he stands and makes his way to the door. There was no stopping him when he made up his mind. “I can come with you.” That earns you a disapproving look, and you sigh your defeat. “Drive safe, okay?” 
“Yep.” 
The rain subsides shortly after he slips out the door. To avoid the risk of falling asleep, you decide to take a shower, considering yourself lucky that the warm water doesn’t run out after the first five minutes.
By the time you dry off, moisturize, and change into old pajamas, Frank hasn’t returned. When you peek out the window at the sound of an engine, it ends up being construction workers. Despite how much you try to will it away, a familiar sense of dread settles in your gut. It only roots deeper upon realizing that he’d left his BlackBerry behind on the bed. 
Time continues passing by. 
•••
Red and blue police lights appear blazing in the distance in a showy glow. Frank watches from the inside of a family-owned pizzeria, where beautiful candid pictures adorn the walls. The air is rich with the scent of parmesan and garlic, but his face is fixed in a scowl. There’s bruising beginning to develop on the apple of one cheek, and a thin bleeding slash on the other. A few chairs are overturned while tables are askew. 
Under different circumstances, maybe in a different life, he would’ve been able to appreciate the homey charm of the place without trouble finding a way to fall at his feet. The universe had deemed him as the only alter fit to handle it. 
The woman behind the counter, stout with a long ponytail, nearly collapses in relief as the wailing sirens draw nearer. Frank’s jaw ticks in irritation at the whole ordeal. Other customers who were once inside have either left or are now standing watch from the parking lot. 
Frank turns to look down at the two young men sitting on the floor with their backs against the wall. The masks have been ripped down from their faces, and it’s clear they’ve been roughed up. Despite feeling Frank’s gaze, they refuse to meet it. 
Off to side stands another employee who’s around the same age as the men on the ground. He’s holding a wad of napkins to his bloody nose and can’t keep his eyes from flitting to Frank with reverence and gratitude.  
“Hey,” Frank barks to the seated men. “When they bust up in here, you don’t run, you hear me? Cause I’m gonna be out there and you won’t even make it to the next lot over,” he says. “If you wanna come in here and be tough guys while your buddy’s trying to make a living and do better for himself, then you own it.” 
Their nostrils flare in frustration, but they don’t dare open their mouths. He can see the misplaced anger of his own youth coursing through them. 
“Whatever’s going on between you…you talk it out, yeah?” He looks between all of them. “One bad decision, and your folks will be crying and snotting in a courtroom while some guy with a gavel calls the shots.” 
As the police cars turn into the parking lot, Frank walks over to a table and picks up the carry out bag of food he’d ordered. 
“How do I get outta here?” 
Both the long-haired woman and the young employee point to the back hallway where the bathrooms are, watching him disappear as if he were never there at all. 
Frank makes it to his van as the police enter the pizzeria. In the rearview mirror, he can see the two men standing from the ground with their heads hanging low. Sighing, he pats down his pockets for his phone with the intent to call you. Nothing. All he can do is curse under his breath and start up the engine. 
The No Vacancy sign is switched on when he makes it back. He sees you staring out the window, but you slink back into the room as if the sight of his return was all you needed. A mix of guilt and frustration stir in his chest when you don’t let him in. He has to dig out the key and do it himself with his free hand, the carry out bag crinkling with his efforts. When he slips in and shuts the door behind himself, you’re standing a few yards away. There’s a palpable intensity as you study the afflictions on his face. 
Your body wants to fuss over him and push him away all at once—for leaving his phone, for scaring you, for coming back looking like he’d sought out yet another fight. Most of all, you feel foolish for believing that there was ever a chance at normalcy. There was no rewriting the curse that all the trouble in the world fell at Frank Castle’s feet so he could set things right. 
Unlike eight months ago, when you thought he was bad news, you can’t imagine losing him. You wouldn’t survive it. That magnitude of that fear cloaks itself in anger and puts a target on him when it’s the last thing he deserves. 
“What the hell, Frank? You can’t be serious right now.” 
Your piercing gaze is muddled with a myriad of emotions, and he can see them all. He stops the knee-jerk reaction that almost makes him raise his voice and go on about how he didn’t ask for anything that transpired within the past hour. How happenstance wasn’t within his control. How the whole idea of the two people like you finding a sense of normality was probably closer to a fairytale. 
He doesn’t get into it because he loves you. Even though neither of you have ever said it aloud. It was an unspoken truth, written between the lines of the fact that you worked each other’s nerves, but knew how to sooth them even more. Chasing after a fairytale would be worth it with you. 
“Let’s just eat, yeah? Can we do that?” 
He brushes past you to put the food on the small table. You track his movements, watching as he takes out a few small boxes. There’s wings, garlic knots, mozzarella sticks—a variety so you can take your pick and get your fill. It was never really too late for pizza, but he knew you would complain about the layers of cheese grease so close to bedtime. You’re not even sure you have an appetite anymore, but he motions for you to come sit and you can’t say no. Your eyes follow him as he goes to wash his hands, wishing you had it in you to scream. 
There’s only two chairs and your knees knock beneath the table when he sits down. As you nibble on a garlic knot, you stare at the dried blood on his cheek and the forming bruise. 
“Please tell me what happened.” Your tone is lighter than before.
Frank squints briefly then wrinkles his nose, gears turning in his head. Similar to when he walks into a new room, his gaze tracks around different points of your face, as if he’s trying to piece together what he wants to say as he assesses where you are. His thoughts are always written in his expressions even if they aren’t entirely clear. 
“It was nothing,” he says. 
“Nothing, Frank?” 
Nine times out of ten, him coming back to base camp bearing signs of a fight meant that he’d either taken care of everything or it was time to bounce—no in between. There’s no urgency that suggests the latter, so he must be telling the truth. The events of the night have pissed him off more than anything, like a side quest he couldn’t avoid. As much as he dreaded playing it over in his head for the sake of relaying it back to you, he can see that you need it. 
“Alright, look.” Frank waits for your attentive nod to continue. 
“It was a couple of kids. Came in all loud, making a scene,” he starts. “Long story short, they gang up on their buddy who works there.” Your eyes drift to his lips as he talks, watching the way he wets them every so often. “Everybody starts freaking out, some suit who looks like Mayor LaGaurdia calls the cops.” 
He shakes his head like it was all a big mess. “And I’m not about to sit there and watch this kid get the snot beat outta him, so I get up and do somethin’ about it.” The righteous indignation in his tone stirs an admiration within you. He notices the shift in the way you’re looking at him. 
“What?” 
You shake your head and bite your lower lip. “So you broke them apart?”
He nods. “One of ‘em got a lick in, pulled out a pocket knife,” he says. “Then I shook both their asses up and made ‘em sit ‘til the cops came.” 
“You pulled your punches.” 
“I pulled my punches,” he confirms.
This wasn’t the story you were expecting, but you’re grateful for it nonetheless. Frank breaking up fights and setting kids straight was something you could live with—better than dealing with crime rings, crooked feds, and personal vendettas. 
A wave of rowdy laughter soon erupts from somewhere in the distance. When you look down, you realize the two of you have made your way through more of the food than you were expecting. Frank wipes his hands off with a napkin and leans back in his chair, watching as you do the same. 
The silence is intimate. Frank’s knees are still pressed against yours. He looks like he wants to say one thing but changes his mind to another at the last minute. “I’m gonna go grab a shower, yeah?”  
“Yeah,” you mimic the quick, New York way he always clips the word onto the end of his sentences.  
He’s never minded your teasing. Every time he thinks he’s gotten away with masking his amusement, you always catch a tell that gives him away. This time, it’s the twitch of his nose as he stands up to throw his stuff away. You file it away in your memory. 
“Hey, Frank?” He looks over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was scared.” 
“I know.” 
Later, the lights around the mirror provide a Hollywood-esque glow as you stand at the sink brushing your teeth, one hand braced on the counter. The rest of the bathroom is sectioned off behind a door, so you feel the lingering steam from Frank's shower as he steps out in his sleep clothes, drying off his hair. The air smells like the complimentary soap, light and fresh. You absentmindedly shift to make room for him as he drapes the towel around his neck and leans close to the mirror to assess his face. 
Now that the blood is gone, the cut looks less imposing. Unphased that you’re bumping shoulders, he reaches for his own toothbrush. 
You’ve never paid any mind to how heavy-handed he is while he brushes, but it stands out now that you’re right beside him sharing the same sink. Perhaps it only appears that way, but you force yourself to bite back a teasing comment as you move on to floss. Frank just stares at you in the mirror with a soft, tired look in his eyes that makes your insides feel all fluttery. You’re sure he’s not even aware he’s doing it—or maybe he knows perfectly well. 
After he’s ditched the towel and the two of you are making your way to your respective beds, you bring a halt to his movements by wrapping your arms around him. It’s an awkward angle at first because you come at him partially from the side, partially from behind. But he adjusts himself so that your chests are pressed together as he wraps an arm around you—just the one initially, taken aback by your embrace. 
“Okay. Oh, boy,” he chuckles in that low way of his that playfully denotes trouble. 
You’re not sure why you made the move. As he adds his other arm, it occurs to you that there are too many motivations for there to be just one. Affection seldom looks like this between the two of you—maybe once every blue moon during notable partings or close calls. The seamless way you melt into him says otherwise. It’s as if relishing his warmth and the steady constant of his frame was all you were made for. The possibility doesn’t even offend you. You keep holding him and he keeps holding you. 
“You okay?” he asks after a while, smoothing his wide palm up your back. 
You nod before slowly pulling away. “Sorry, I’m just…” You touch a gentle finger to the center of his chest as he looks at you with that familiar furrow between his brows. “Glad you’re back.” Glad he’s still alive.
“Where else would I be, huh?” He taps your chin with his knuckle. “I walk out any door without you, best believe I’m making it back some way somehow.” 
You nod because you don’t trust your voice anymore.  
He gives your chin another affectionate tap. “Alright then. Bedtime.”
•••
A small sliver of light slips in through the slit in the curtains, casting itself onto the lower portion of Frank’s bed right over his feet. Even after staring at it for what feels like forever, you can’t bring yourself to close your eyes and surrender to the grasp of sleep. Yet the steady rise and fall of Frank’s chest continues on like some sort of miracle. You wish you were close enough to feel it for yourself, and when that pull doesn’t go away, you push the covers off and tiptoe over to his bed amid the dark.  
When the other side of his mattress dips, he thinks it’s one of those half-waking dreams until your leg brushes against his in your attempt to join him beneath the sheets. He immediately shifts to accommodate you, tugging more covers over to your side even though there’s already plenty. As he moves, you can smell the familiar scent of his skin and feel the weight of his proximity. 
“Thought you were—thought I was dreaming,” he rasps. 
With the way your heart has begun hammering in your ears, you’re surprised you can hear him. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, you’re okay, sweetheart.” His voice is thick, but not from tiredness this time. 
Both of you remain still after you’ve settled, scared that moving would shatter this sweet reality that had been woven together by fate. The warmth of his body calls out to you, but you don’t indulge even though you want to. That hesitation doesn’t last long. The moment he reaches out, you press yourself back against his chest. He lets his hand come to rest over your stomach as he tucks his nose into your head, breathing you in. When you relax further into him, his fingertips venture just beneath the hem of your shirt to grace the soft skin above your waistline. The gesture is achingly chaste. The two of you fall asleep just like that. 
Morning seems to come soon, sunlight spilling into the room around the closed curtains. The light is tender in the way it bathes the charming color palette of the room. Frank’s eyes flutter open to find that neither of you had shifted much during the night. You're further away, but his arm remains draped over your middle. He doesn’t know that you're awake—that you’ve been awake. 
The first thing your gaze fell on was the alarm clock nearing nine o’ clock. You’d slept in way longer than usual, especially for what was meant to be another day on the road. You can’t bring yourself to mind. 
It isn’t until Frank withdraws his arm that you finally allow yourself to shift. The sheets rustle in a tell-tale sign that he’s stretching, and you roll over in time to see him on his back with his arms extended, knuckles brushing against the headboard. You scoot closer, resting a hand on his chest after he lowers his arms and tucks the one furthest from you behind his head, bicep flexing. 
Neither of you say anything, but there’s a quiet sense of acknowledgement—of seeing and being seen. With a lone finger, you draw lazy shapes over his pecs through the fabric of his shirt as he slowly blinks down at your hand. And as Frank turns to press a kiss to your forehead, he reckons he could get used to mornings like these.  
-
♡ Thank you for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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r0-boat · 12 days ago
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Protective!Satan
Whb Satan headcannons about him being a little overprotective towards the MC
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He did say he wanted you to enjoy your time in hell. He just didn't think you would adapt so easily...
He thought he knew humans didn't really like the concept of devils but you seemed different. Now he regrets telling you that devils can't lie. He can't stand watching you be so overly friendly and naive enjoying the company of every devil you come across.
Yes just because devils can't lie that doesn't mean they are necessarily good. Devil's can still bend the truth, devil's can still manipulate. Sitri could only huff at his anger reminding his king that he was the one who dug his hole. Satan takes it upon himself to be your protector. He swears if one little hair on your head is missing he will rage. He's itching to use this new baseball bat he bought. You glare at him at the fact that he's chasing away anyone and everyone around you and he just smiles and says "Good. The less devils, the better."
Satan will be hanging around with a weapon in his hand glaring at whoever you're talking to every time you look back at him he'll just smile warmly at you only at you.
He hates the fact that devils crowd around you. In Gehenna He's practically attached to you at the hip growling for devils to give you space. He's only asking 'nicely' this once; anyone who doesn't listen they will get a punch to the face.
Like hell he would let the other kings be in the same room with you alone! He knows exactly how devil's act. He knows that the moment A devil has the chance to take temptation, they will take it.
You can hang out with whatever you want. But the moment they fuck up or he catches wind of any devil that wrongs you in some way him and his entire regimen of wrathful bloodthirsty devils will jump them on the street.
Of course he isn't as openly violent when he's escorting you in the human world, at first. (It's tough to conceal wrath) He wants to let you know that he's only sparing the guy that was rude to you because you told him to.
MC: "if you don't have something nice to say don't say it at all!" >:(
"Oh ok" *punches Mammon without saying anything*
Must know your location 80% of the time.
As much as he doesn't like the Kings hanging around you, he'd rather they be around you instead of you being completely alone on the streets of hell. You're so naive and easy to get along with, and devils naturally flock to you, so he's worried that an angel might deceive you or, worse, a devil with not the best intentions might lure you somewhere. Just because devils can't tell lies, that doesn't make them exceptionally safe. You wander around too much and the only reason why he hasn't put a tracker on your phone is because He's not Leviathan.
*angry housewife noises* "WHERE THE F WERE YOU?!"
-You were only gone for 5 minutes-
Satan and Leviathan will think it's crazy if you ever bring it up but they're actually a pretty similar when it comes to you Levi is a little more internal where Leviathan will delete numbers or ask you a billion questions about the devil you hung out with yesterday, Satan will pull up with an army and do a good cop bad cop interrogation with Sitri(They are both bad cops, One is just more violent than the other)
Satan 🤝 Leviathan
Murder to protect MC squad
Satan: Leviathan I need your help...
Leviathan: Go away I don't ca-
Satan: MC got a text from their ex.
Levi: .... You've come to the right place. What is your plan? I'll help you. Do you prefer poison or bullets?
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eloquent-edits · 9 months ago
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🗡️ “I can assure you, we are just friends.”
definitely not something that’s a little more than friends 🗡️ friends with benefits prompts 🗡️ 18+ prompts
While Person A is chatting with their friends, Person B sidles up to A and subtly trails a finger up their spine (does A stutter? go completely silent at the electricity going through their body? start to get red but manage to keep their composure? TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS)
B begs A to not leave any marks because they just can’t let this secret get out
For that beach episode: A takes off their shirt, exposing scratch marks from a recent session… B hides a sly grin as A is questioned about who they’re with
A is very physically affectionate in general, but has fallen into the habit of only bothering B in public with it
^ A wants to interact with B in many ways and just ends up biting their arm jokingly to satiate that desire (yes, their friends think this is weird)
B needs to be held accountable for finishing their work, so A comes over to hang out… they do not get work done for a while
At a party, B can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy when they spot A flirting with someone
A’s childhood friend is in town and A is super excited to have them meet B (B is quietly panicking over making a good impression and wondering what A has said about them)
A and B are in the same anatomy class and they spend a lot of time studying together (A is most certainly a hands-on learner hehehehe)
“Is that B’s shirt?” “What? Oh, uh, yes… My shirt got dirty the last time I was over there so they’re washing mine for me.”
“Is that A’s shirt?” “Yes. What about it?” “…Does A know you have their shirt?” “Nope!”
They really only planned on the midnight rendezvous, not falling asleep afterwards, so A and B go get morning coffee together (they are both very grumpy but still enjoying each other’s company)
Inside jokes during sexy times bleed into their normal banter, leading to some questionable looks from their friends
A gets a little drunk and B expects them to slip up and expose their true relationship, but instead A is very wholesome and remains steadfast on their boundaries; B is so proud of them for this
B is desperately trying to get something off their mind, so A offers a distraction for the night… it’s Mario Kart and whoever loses owes the other a favor
Any of their plans to go out have to include wiggle room in case they get preoccupied (soon it’s not just B that’s always late to events)
While their friends are occupied in another room, A and B intertwine their bodies and try to stay quiet—key word here is TRY
“I bet A would really like [insert kink here]…” “Nah, they’re not really into that.” “How the fuck do you know that?”
All their friends take the BDSM test as a joke and A and B secretly take notes on what the other person likes/dislikes to make the benefits side better
If given the choice, A will always pick the seat next to B so they can tease them under the table
During a passionate session, A accidentally draws blood while gripping B’s back (A apologizes over and over while tending to B, who just has a shit-eating grin the whole time)
Whenever B cracks yet another terrible joke, A has to refrain from kissing it off their face
A and B take a break from the benefits whenever one of them wants to pursue someone else (your characters can have healthy boundaries and communication!!! I am BEGGING y’all to write characters that actually communicate with each other)
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amsznn · 9 months ago
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can you do a first time with matt? they’re not together yet but really like each other and hang out together a lot kinda vibe. she goes on a date with another guy to get her mind off of matt and when her date tries to take her home with him and have a one night stand, she’s super into it but then freaks out because she doesn’t feel safe and comfortable with the guy. the date kinda gets frustrated with the reader because she “led him on.” so she asks matt to come and pick her up and she breaks down and tells him everything. she explains that she wants that kind of intimacy with someone so bad but she’s embarrassed and has so much trauma that she needs to feel really safe and comfortable with whoever she crosses that line of intimacy with. basically matt asks her if she’s comfortable with him and she asks him to be her first? he’s SO sweet during sex with her, MAJOR praising towards the female and really passionate and intimate. i’m really wanting/envisioning a side of matt during sex that’s very very sweet and comforting, yet a little dominant and sensual at the same time! but definitely gentle with her since it’s her first time and TAKES HIS TIME WITH HER??? like how sweet would that be you know??? BEGGING YOU FOR THIS. 🤍🤍🤍 love your writing :)
NOTHING LIKE YOU - m. sturniolo
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warnings: slight cursing, SMUT (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable), p in v, soft dom!matt
A/N: thank you for the request, hopefully i wrote it how you were imagining. again if you want me to fix anything lmk! <3
-
“going somewhere?”
you heard a familiar voice call out behind you. you turned around to see matt, your best friend standing in the doorway as you attempted to zip up the black silk dress you were planning on wearing.
“believe it or not, i am going on a date.” you watched his reaction through your mirror, not sure of what to make of it. but ultimately matt just put on a small smile before making his way towards your figure.
“who’s the lucky guy?” he asked before assisting you in zipping up the dress. you didn’t miss how his hands lingered for more than a few seconds, or how his eyes traveled all the way down your body, admiring you.
you simply shrugged off his question. “ill tell you if it becomes anything serious.” grabbing your purse off your bed side table, you took one final look at your appearance, deeming it was good enough. “i’ll see you later okay? don’t wait up.” you said as you grabbed your house keys.
before you could make your exit, matt swiftly pulled you by the waist, bringing you into a secure hug. “what’s up with you?” you asked amused while circling your arms around his torso.
“call me if you need anything, alright?” matt said while pulling back from the hug, still not ready to let go. maybe your heart stopped for minute, matter of a fact maybe it exploded. from the way matt was looking at you, it was enough to forget about the whole date. but you knew you couldn’t. there was no point on waiting on something that would probably never happen.
“okay matt.” you softly replied before breaking out of his grasp, leaving the house to make your way to your date.
-
so far, your date was going well. to your surprise your date was easy to talk to. he started conversations easily, and listened to you as spoke, which is why it was easy for your mind not to wonder to the brunette you left back at home.
you two had went to a semi-fancy restaurant and were laughing the whole night through. from cracking jokes, to telling one another funny stories, you thought this might just end well for you.
“how about we go back to my place after this?” your date said while paying for his portion of the bill since you insisted on splitting it. you smiled at this while also putting your card down.
“sure, why not?”
-
back at his house things escalated quickly. mere seconds after getting past the front entrance, his hands were all over you.
he held you as you two engaged in a heavy make out session, leading you towards his room, never breaking the contact. your arms unwrapped around his neck before falling back onto his bed. quickly climbing on top of you, he dives down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your collarbone. you sighed and propped yourself up on your elbows, making yourself more accessible to him.
as his free hand road your dress up, your hands were busy fumbling to get his shirt off, just as eager. he paused for a moment, leaning towards his bedside table to look for a condom. upon finding it, he undid his belt, and pushed his pants and boxers all the way down.
his teeth teared open the condom wrapper, as you watched his every movement. you laid back down, shutting your eyes, trying to brace yourself for what was about to come.
the guy placed his elbows on each side of your head. you could feel the tip slowly prying at your entrance.
shit
shit
shit
“wait, i can’t!” you quickly scooted back to the headboard. the guy looked at you confused, before taking the condom off and pulling his boxers back on.
“what the fuck, you serious?” he asked, eyes scanning your face to see if you were just joking. you adjusted your dress, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. “i’m sorry, im just not ready.” you muttered before finding your panties scattered somewhere on the floor, quickly putting them on you rushed out of the room.
the guy followed suit, yelling accusations at you. “you’re just gonna leave like that!?” he called out after you. you didn’t dare to look back, not even bothering to slip your heels back on, you ran out his house and didn’t stop until you were a couple of blocks down. you collapsed on the sidewalk, quickly pulling out your phone to call your pinned contact.
the phone rang and rang, until finally you could hear matt’s groggy voice on the other side of the phone.
“hey, what’s up?”
“matt, i need you to come get me right now.” you said, trying to compose yourself so he wouldn’t worry. on the other side you listened as matt shuffled around to grab his keys, making his way out the house in an instant.
“i’ll be right there.”
-
matt arrived in less than 15 minutes, since your location was a good distance between his house. he slowed down when he saw you at the side of the road, coming to a complete stop before you fell into the car.
he saw the look on your face. he didn’t need you to tell him, he knew something went wrong.
when you guys made it home, you made your way to matt’s room, not wanting to be alone that night. matt stopped in the kitchen to grab you some snacks before making his way back to your figure laid on the bed.
he shut the door and dimmed the lights, in case they were bothering you. he left the snacks on the table beside your head before laying down next to you.
“wanna talk about it?” matt asked gently. he turned over on his side to face you better. you sighed and ran your palm down your face. tears dropping down the plump of your cheeks. you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“we almost fucked,” you took a deep breath before continuing. “but i freaked out and ruined everything.” your eyes continued to water before you turned to face matt.
“what’s wrong with me?” your voice broke matt’s heart. to him there was absolutely nothing wrong with you. to him you were perfect, there was nothing that compared to you.
“hey, hey, hey” matt gently caressed your face while wiping your tears with his thumb. “there’s nothing wrong with being scared y/n. you don’t have to be ready right now.”
you let out another frustrated sigh. “but i am ready matt. he just..wasn’t the one i guess.” matt pulled his hand away from your face before looking into your eyes.
“then who is?”
your heart skipped another beat, or maybe two. he’s been right in front of you this whole time. the one you wanted, the one you needed. it was matt.
you shifted on your side before your hand made its way to matt’s neck. you watched his expression, for any sort of discomfort before connecting his lips with yours.
although the feeling of your lips on his brought matt to euphoria, he couldnt bring himself to do this while you were in a state of vulnerability, causing matt to back away from the kiss.
“y/n, are you sure about this?”
“yes matt, im really sure.”
matt smiled before pulling you in for another kiss, instead this one was more passionate, and desperate. your bottom lip hung open as matt took this as an invitation to push his tongue past the entrance. the atmosphere in the room only got thicker as matt shifted his body on top of you. you could feel the bulge in his pants rub against your core which made you whimper into the kiss.
“matt..please.” you gasped into the kiss.
“there’s no rush, baby. it’s just me and you.”
matt’s hands made their way down your body, reaching behind you back to undo the dress and reveal your breast out in display for him. matt dipped down, kissing all along the area, but purposely dodging the place you needed him most.
as matt’s hands went further, you could feel them just above your core. he could feel how wet you were through your panties. he made work to take them off, causing you to shiver from the exposure. you pulled at the hem of matt’s shirt, practically begging him to take it off. he complied, while also pushing his sweatpants, and boxers off. you couldn’t help but tense up, and do the same as before and lay back down to brace yourself.
matt grabbed a condom from his drawer, tearing it open and rolling it down his length. he could sense how tense you were. he gently placed his hand on your waist while looking into your eyes, trying to ease any of your worries away.
“i’ll go slow okay? tell me if you wanna stop.”
you whispered an ‘okay’ in approval. matt lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. your knuckles almost turned white with how much you were gripping the sheets to the new burning sensation.
“it’s okay angel, i got you.” matt reassured while caressing your face in hopes to calm you down.
matt groaned until he completely bottomed out. staying in place so you could adjust.
“fuck, you’re so tight.” matt breathed out.
you shivered at his words before taking a deep breath before telling matt he could move.
his thrusts were slow, but deep. enough to make you feel every inch of him.
“matt, can you go a bit faster?” you breathed out. matt nodded before propping himself up on his arms, making the snapping of his hips faster.
“oh god, matt!” you moaned out at the newfound pace. you mind was clouded with pleasure and the with the brunette in front of you. you reached up to push matt back down by his neck so your lips could clash against each other once again.
matt moaned against your lips, the clenching off your walls around him was enough to make him explode right then and there.
“you’re doing so good for me, angel.” matt whispered above your ear.
you whimpered, the combination of matt’s pace and the feeling of his lips peppering soft kisses all around caused your head to spin.
“matt, im gonna..” you could barely finished your sentence before matt’s free hand made it’s way to your clit, rubbing circles helping you chase your own high.
“go ahead baby, im right here.” matt mumbled, talking you through your orgasm.
“matt!” you cried out as you felt the knot in your stomach burst, leaving you a shaking mess as matt, also came undone, moaning your name as he rode out his high as well.
“fuck.” matt muttered before pulling out, which earned a shiver from you, still sensitive. matt made his way to the bathroom to clean himself off before coming back in his black sweatpants and a fresh towel for you. he gently cleaned you up, careful as he knew any sudden movement could cause you discomfort. you sat up before grabbing a clean set of matt’s boxers, and one of his sweatpants before collapsing back into bed.
matt did the same, pulling the covers over you two. his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in closer. “are you okay?” he asked while peppering kisses along your neck.
“i’m amazing.” you chuckled while playing with the hand that held your waste.
“yeah, you really are.”
-
A/N: yall i………..i have no words, i dont usually write smut, I’ve probably written it like once but i decided to try smth new ig. I WAS GIGGLING THE WHOLE TIME. also message me if you wanna be moots, need some more. (need matt rn)
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theemporium · 5 months ago
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This looks super fun!!!! Super creative and exciting ❤️
Oscar + Max
Green-Eyed Mojito
“This is your work place, leave the boyfriend at home next time."
i didn't quite know how to write oscar and max together, so i just did max!! sorry!! but thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
21. "This is your work place, leave the boyfriend at home next time."
.
He was trying not to be bitter.
Emphasis on trying. 
However, Max thought he was pretty justified in his annoyance when he had spent the better part of the last six months working his way into a friendship with you, only for a new employee to swoop in and steal you away and undo all the hard work Max had put into his ‘how to get your race engineer to fall in love with you in twelve months’ plan.
He had been so excited for the race weekend. The sport was coming off the summer break and he hadn’t had the chance to properly hang around you in a while, and he missed you. It was as simple as that. 
But it was a Thursday and he made a point of getting to the paddock earlier than usual just so he could have an excuse to grab some coffee with you—only to enter the Red Bull motorhome and find you already sitting at one of the tables, laughing away with some guy he had never seen before.
So yeah, maybe Max was a bit fucking bitter. Not that he was showing it at all. 
“Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” GP voiced from behind him, something quite like amusement written on his face. “Don’t tell me I have to deal with Mad Max this weekend.”
“Shut up,” Max bit back, rolling his eyes as he tried to ignore the way his stomach twisted at the sound of your laugh from the other side of the room. 
“Jesus Christ,” the older man grumbled before patting Max on the back. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 
Max resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. He wasn’t seventeen anymore with no control over his emotional responses. He was an adult. He was an adult who was in control of how he felt and he didn’t need anyone to remind him otherwise. 
At least, he was until you got up from your seat, seeming to spot Max and smile as you made your way over. 
“Hey, when did you get in?” 
You were being sweet and polite and any other day, Max would have been jumping over the fucking motorhome, just happy that you were talking to him. Today, it seemed like the bitter jealousy won. 
“This is your workplace, you know,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “Leave the boyfriend at home next time.” 
You blinked in surprise. “The what?” 
“Your boyfriend or whoever that guy was,” he tried to play it off, looking away from your face in hopes you wouldn’t notice the way his cheeks were burning red. “We are here to race and win. Not flirting.” 
“So it doesn’t count when you flirt with me?” 
Max’s head snapped up. “I—”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you watched the boy grow flustered under your gaze. “He’s a guy I knew from university who has just joined the team. I was being polite.” 
“Oh,” was all he could stupidly reply with.
“Plus, mechanics aren’t my type,” you added. “I prefer drivers.” 
“Oh,” he repeated, this time with a smile on his lips. 
“It’s a shame though,” you mused, already turning to head towards the garage to start your day. “The driver I like is really slow at catching onto my feelings, despite winning every race.” 
Max could only gape as he watched you walk away, the bitter jealousy quickly replaced with hope and excitement at the date he had been planning in his head since the day he met you.
.
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yanderes-galore · 2 months ago
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Billy Loomis (Scream) maybe With a friend darling (platonic) 🪲 [Shiny Bug Anon]
I'm not even sure if he'd be that good of a friend.... I did what I could though.
Yandere! Platonic! Billy Loomis Concept
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Forced companionship.
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It's hard to say if Billy genuinely cared for any of his friends.
I personally would argue he's simply using others for his advantage, like he did with Stu.
He seems to be a narcissistic man set on revenge and plans on manipulating whoever he can to do that.
He seems to have trouble discerning fiction from reality.
Which is the reason he follows horror tropes during his murders.
Being friends with him, without even making him yandere, is problematic at best.
I imagine you'd have to be a friend he thinks highly of.
Like, maybe a childhood friend he used to go to all the time?
Your parents often watched him and you, especially after what happened with his parents.
This connection may make Billy less likely to target you for his schemes.
If he cares for anyone, it's you.
You probably didn't pick up on Billy's tendencies until high school.
Even then he knows how to hide it.
Billy knows how to mask his murderous intent.
He just seems charismatic, friendly, and caring.
You think he loves his girlfriend and he certainly seems to care for you.
What Billy likes to do with you is watch horror movies, of course.
You listen to him ramble about all his favorite scenes and are constantly given horror trivia.
He only ever seems to want to hang out with you alone though.
You once offered to invite Stu or Billy's girlfriend to just watch movies.
Only for Billy to give a stern 'no', like you said something offensive.
I don't doubt Billy would manipulate his obsession.
Childhood friend or not, he knows he can get you to listen to him if he speaks to you right.
I think he still plans on using Stu to enact his murder plot...
But he can manipulate you into supporting him, too.
Billy knows you've always felt bad for him since you two were young.
He can weaponize your pity.
If you start noticing his weird behavior, he'll play the victim card.
Oh, he's just been struggling lately, he's just stressed...
You wanna help him get better, don't you?
Billy would probably never kill you.
He could care less what happens to Sidney or Stu...
Yet he wants you alive.
He cares about you... To an obsessive degree, actually.
Billy is downright possessive of you as his friend.
That's why he values your free time together.
When he's not manipulating his girlfriend, he's knocking on your door with a smile.
He's still your dear childhood friend during the day.
Sure, he's needy at times, but you two have had a past with one another.
Sometimes you need to go watch horror movies to clear your head with Billy.
Plus, it's nice to see Billy ramble about all the gore and tropes.
You wonder if he likes it too much at times.
Then there's night.
At night, Billy's wearing the Ghostface costume and lurking in the night.
He'll lurk outside your window, watching you and your parents as he blends in with the shadows.
Sometimes his costume even has blood... a grim reminder of his past hunts.
You'd be oblivious to Billy's stalking.
As childhood friends, he likes it when you rely on one another.
In fact... He wants to be the only one who matters in your life sometimes.
He's lost everything in his life... but you haven't.
I would NOT put it past Billy to murder your parents, other friends, or lovers.
He probably would like the power he'd hold over you, creating a bloody mess as Ghostface...
Only to comfort you as Billy.
He's intense like that.
He'd be all concerned like you once were for him.
He'd hold you close, coo over you, never let you go.
Like he didn't commit such atrocities himself in order to make you attached to him.
You wouldn't even know it's him until Stu's big party.
As people are being picked off left and right... you grow increasingly concerned for your safety.
Even more so if Billy really did go through with murdering your loved ones... probably with Stu.
It isn't long before Billy does the one move that will break you.
He knows it will too.
He's always been a pretty messed up kid.
As Ghostface, he may corner his childhood friend into a room.
He's covered in blood, a feeling he's quite used to.
By the time you're backed into a corner... He removes the mask...
And he watches the fear collect on your face... The sadness soon after...
It almost hurts to see you so distraught.
You've done so much for him and he repays you in blood.
He sees you crying, but he doesn't feel bad.
Really... all this murder simply brought you closer in his eyes.
You'll have no one else to turn to except him.
Once he murders Sidney, He'll make it the perfect crime with Stu.
You won't say a thing, Billy won't let you.
Why would you? Then you'd lose him too.
I don't doubt Billy's actions would corrupt you to the point of needing him.
He's gotten rid of all your other loved ones and friends.
Now he has you in a tight grip, threatening you that he's the only one you need.
If the murder party plot didn't go over well and Billy was going to die?
I don't doubt he'd kill you too so you'll forever be his friend.
As said before, Billy would not be a good friend...
But he doesn't care what you or anyone else thinks...
Now you'll be friends forever... Even when dead.
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antimonyandthyme · 3 days ago
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2k, paul/carlos
(written after the c2 / paul vid, and this post came out with the brilliant @formulahs suggesting an auction LMAO)
He goes without the expectation of buying anything. He looks forward to a good time, even with all the cameras around. The shoes his stylist wants him to go in are fanciful, shiny monstrosities, and he nearly insists for the sneakers to stay on. Then he remembers that he’s technically there for Ferrari, and dutifully swaps them out.
Technically. Paul can go for other reasons too. Charles is lovely, if a little vacant around him. Carlos is. Carlos is, he’s—
It’s early days and Paul isn’t one for poetry, and yet here he is. He hopes to god he isn’t being obvious. Not to the staff when he spots Carlos and lights up like a schoolboy with a crush. Not to Charles, when he holds on to Carlos for a handshake that’s a little longer than necessary. Definitely not obvious to whoever watches these videos, when he mouths all of the answers to Carlos.
Can’t deny having a favourite. He can turn his nose up all he wants at the reputation that follows any young actor these days, but he can’t deny his appreciation for nice things. There are no trophies in his world—yet, just good food, good drink, good people. Beautiful people. For the third time since they rolled cameras, Paul is caught staring. Carlos always looks slightly lost, staring back, like he’s trying to figure Paul out, before he ducks his head and curls up. Large hands clasped in his lap. Maybe a little shy. Maybe a little pleased.
“He’s a little expensive,” Charles says, “but you should be able to afford him.”
Paul attempts to tamper his face into something palatable. Ungracious of Charles to lay out his desires so plainly. And then in the same breath insinuate that his ability to pay might not stack up. Somewhere past Paul’s eyeline, Carlos is returning his mic to the staff with a relieved smile. Unpacking his spine into something looser, now that the cameras are off. He tips his head at Paul, eyes inquisitive, as if guessing that they were discussing him.
Paul has to look away, guilty.
“I didn’t plan on buying,” he says. It’s the truth. Mostly. In his defense, it wasn’t like Ferrari were being subtle about shoving them in a room together, especially after they made this tradition known. It’s like asking someone not to think of elephants. On command, a safari blooms open in Paul’s mind.
Charles shrugs. “We’ll have another event later. Someone else probably will.”
The flippant way Charles speaks about it grates against Paul’s skin. He can’t tell if Charles is trying to rile him up. The thought of Carlos having to hang off a faceless person’s arm makes distaste churn so violently in his belly that it manifests into an ache.
“Carlos wouldn’t mind, if it’s you.”
“How would you know,” Paul grits out. The mental fidget spinner he has for Charles keeps going around in circles, flickering from Empty to Dickhead to Helpful, maybe?
“Ah, he’s used to it no? People looking at him like that.” Charles’s voice dips low, like he’s sharing a secret. Paul’s an actor for fuck’s sake. He knows when someone’s selling him something, a mediocre contract, a shitty line. Still, he can’t help leaning in closer, puts his ear right next to Charles’s mouth.
Further away, Carlos’s mouth twists down, his gaze shutters. Just a minute, baby, Paul wants to tell him. Just—give me a minute.
“He looks back, when it’s you,” Charles says, and Paul’s done convincing himself otherwise.
--
They tell him, in one of the most bewildering conversations Paul’s ever had, that Carlos will be delivered in the evening, at whatever time suits Paul best. Delivered, like he’s some kind of package. What the fuck, sings one part of his brain. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what have you just done. The other part, the part that’s mostly primitive and hedonistic, somehow takes charge and sends him off on multiple errands. He gets his hair trimmed, just a little at the sides. He buys some wine. He changes into the sneakers. He considers getting another tattoo, before he snaps himself out of it.
Poetry and tattoos. Paul’s lost his mind.
The time in between gives him room to vacillate between wanting to feed the open maw within him and growing shamefully aware about the shape of his yearning. He hadn’t realized he had enough space within his ribcage to stuff another man entire. There are so many other ways he could have gone about this. But he doesn’t have Carlos’s number. He can’t text. Even if he could, Paul wouldn’t know what to say.
Tick tock, tick tock. Paul rearranges furniture, door dashes some flowers, after spending half an hour reading up on flower language, interspersed with vapid scrolling of his socials. Tick tock.
By the time Carlos arrives, he’s in a bit of a wreck. People who move in Carlos’s world would certainly be familiar with Ferrari’s clauses, and would know how to act. The muted greeting Carlos gives doesn’t help either. He’s dressed up but down, in a plain, almost translucent shirt that leaves little to imagination. He toes off his shoes with an unconscious gracefulness, and comes to stand in front of Paul. He’s waxed, which Paul knows, just from being so close to him this afternoon, had to have happened in that space where Paul was questioning all his life choices. He looks wonderful, except for the fact that he looks so visibly uncomfortable.
“Do you,” Paul starts. Swallowing around the dry lump in his throat. “Do you want something to drink?”
Carlos fidgets. “If you’d like,” he says.
That’s, ow.
They’d assured him, again and again, that Carlos always had the final say, but his teeth are buried in his lower lip, hard enough to blanch, and his toes dig into the carpet like a lifeline. It’s not like Paul’s hung out with Carlos more than a handful of times, but it’s hard to ever picture him in such distress. Carlos is—larger, than what he’d ever seen on screen. You have to witness him in person, to understand.
Faced with this shrunken version of Carlos, Paul can’t bring himself to continue.
“I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I really am. I assumed you’d want—I’m sorry.”
Carlos flinches, jerks his head up. “Wait.”
“It’s alright,” Paul says. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. You could just leave. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Wait,” Carlos says, more urgently. “I don’t want to—” His voice grows small. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not,” Paul nearly yelps. “But you’re. You’re…”
Carlos’s cheeks are very pink. His toes tap an erratic beat on the floor. His hands are clasped in front of him, almost in supplication.
“You’re nervous!”
“Yes!” Carlos blurts out, before looking very mortified. “I’m. Ah, fuck. Paul, I’m never. Never like this.”
Tension bleeds out of him. Something so relieved escapes out of Paul’s mouth in an embarrassing giggle. “Carlos. You should have just said.”
“I don’t know why…” Carlos trails off, scrubbing at the back of his neck vigorously. “With you, I’m like this. I don’t know. I want.” His toes tap some more. “I want to.”
“Want to?” Paul says, coming closer, watching Carlos sway in eagerly.
“Make it worth it,” Carlos mutters. “What you paid.”
Paul groans. He wants to shake Carlos. Then decides, hey, he actually can shake Carlos. Gentle hands around his shoulders, shaking him like a beloved ragdoll. “Oh my god. You can’t be serious.”
“It’s a lot of money,” Carlos protests, but the corners of his mouth are turned up now.
“Shut up, you’re ridiculous. Do you think I would have even paid that if, if I. Oh my god, Carlos. You have to know, right?”
“Know what,” Carlos says, enjoying being a little shit now that they’re joking.
“Can’t take my eyes off you, when you’re in the room,” Paul says. “I thought I was being obvious.”
“You were,” Carlos says brightly. “I thought I was obvious right back.”
“Okay, so. So why are you—?”
Carlos’s face twists. “This season has been. Ah.” He shakes his head reluctantly. “You don’t have to listen to this.”
“Go on,” Paul says. “Come on, tell me. Twelve hours of your time, remember?”
“Been hard to live up to expectations, this year,” Carlos says. “I didn’t want that with you.”
“You are so.” Stupid. Hot. Stupidly hot. “I’m going to shake you some more,” Paul says. “I cannot believe you.”
“That’s fine,” Carlos says. He goes along with the shaking, in a way that shows exactly how much of his body he’s putting into Paul’s hands. A neck as thick as that and he’s somehow limp under Paul’s touch. That’s, well. That’s a lot. “Then maybe, maybe. You could kiss me?”
Yes, yes. Yesssssssss, sings both parts of Paul’s brain. Yes.
Carlos is still now, expectant. A long, lean line of muscle, rooted to the ground, that Paul can trace hungrily with his eyes. He could pull at Carlos with all his strength and Carlos would not move, if he did not want to. But when Paul nudges a finger under his jaw, Carlos goes, looks up, right at him. Leans in.
--
He’s a greedy little thing, isn’t he. Swallows Paul with ease, every which way. He makes insane noises, deep, and guttural when Paul fucks him hard, high, and breathless when Paul thumbs at his nipples. Carlos clutches at Paul like it’d physically hurt to let go. Everything he’s meant to do, he does and is wonderful at it. And somehow, he’d managed to assume he wouldn’t live up.
“Unbelievable,” Paul says to the ceiling, some time after he’d come so viciously it felt like he’d been wrung out like a dish towel. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Are you still mad at me,” Carlos says, amused.
“Yes.”
“Ay, don’t be,” Carlos says, softly. “I really was nervous.”
Paul turns on his side, hand supporting his head as he gazes at Carlos. Crazy intimate. Terrible, the way he’s setting himself up for the worst time. He can’t bring himself to care.
“You’re allowed to stay the night?”
“Twelve hours,” Carlos says. “You can ask me to do anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything,” Carlos confirms. “Sleep at the foot of the bed, if you want.”
Why would he even say such a—Paul is going to shake him again. If he can unpretzel himself from all that easy comfort following an earth-shattering orgasm. He nudges at Carlos’s hip instead. It’s the closest body part he can find.
“I kick in my sleep,” Paul says seriously, delighting in the way that makes Carlos giggle. He pats the scant space next to him. “I’d rather you be right here.”
“I’ll be right here,” Carlos says, then clears his throat. He probably was just parroting Paul, didn’t mean for it to sound so much like a promise.
But Paul… is also a greedy little thing, isn’t he? So greedy he paid for it, and so greedy he wants more now that he’s had a taste.
“And after?” Paul says. Will you be…?
“After,” Carlos says, “after Las Vegas is Qatar. Then Abu Dhabi.”
“Fine,” Paul says. As let downs go, this is pretty devastating, but he’ll live. It’s not like he had expected—never mind.
Carlos shifts. His jaw unlocks, then clicks back. “You get discounts, after, did you know that? Very good discounts.”
“Oh,” Paul says, a little wobbly. “Do I?”
“Yes. And after Abu Dhabi, it’s. It’s free.”
“Ah.” His chest is squeezing tighter than a fist. The space in his ribcage! Expanding and contracting to accommodate whatever Carlos sees fit. He lets himself imagine pressing up close to Carlos in a quiet apartment, pulling out every sound in Carlos's vocabulary with time, unlimited, on his hands. Buying flowers he knows for sure Carlos likes.
“I guess I need to stick around."
“Guess so,” Carlos says, smiles. “Make it worth your while.”
167 notes · View notes
cinnajun · 1 year ago
Text
ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous
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a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity
notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread
wc | 4.2k
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jiwoong
i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often
it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL
but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do
many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong
and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation
they all incorporate wherever you are
so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up
jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine
and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious
“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”
you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture
things are different when it comes to his members though
he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university
nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy
JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.
You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.
An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.
“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.
“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”
“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”
“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”
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zhang hao
there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them
literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao
most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)
and he always mocks you for it, which you hate
he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach
so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you
you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste
most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)
when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of
gets super touchy too
has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture
one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous
mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough
and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party
so obviously you capitalize on it immediately
it backfires on you
HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.
You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.
“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.
“Well, I made the tea—”
“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”
“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”
“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”
You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”
His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.
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hanbin
i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)
he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels
and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else
will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao
will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him
he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates
“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”
“he was just our waiter?”
“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”
when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two
he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue
there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)
you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you
and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too
he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up
other than that his jealousy is kind of cute
hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute
and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you
matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it
YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.
“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”
You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.
“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.
“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”
“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”
Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.
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matthew
matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often
literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it
he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others
a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable
at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL
he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you
he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down
but in the matthew way
so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would
“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”
whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is
“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”
they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful
he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point
he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol
it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him
as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party
BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.
The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).
He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.
“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”
“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”
Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.
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taerae
taerae’s jealousy is silent
you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred
he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded
mostly because you had no clue
“you were jealous?”
“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”
you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous
he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary
you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes
and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it
little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility
lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL
taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable
after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you
because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on
so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward
sometimes even weeks after the fact
and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao
WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth. 
He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”
“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”
“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”
“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”
Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”
You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”
“What in the world is Taeraeology?”
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ricky
when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition
he just shuts the situation down
i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk
he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying
as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you
most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated
for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch
“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you
they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky
if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf
at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL
among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close
he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention
and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL
riyangis i get you
GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.
“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”
It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.
“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”
“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”
Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.
Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.
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gyuvin
gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous
when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting
it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously
so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with
it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose
he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy
and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too
but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day
you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad
because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about
like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky
because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too
and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background
it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding
GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.
“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”
You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”
Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”
Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.
“My bad.”
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gunwook
i actually struggled with this
on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily
he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you
on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently
in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him
he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on
he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser
if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane
one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what
gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it
apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it
you’re flabbergasted 
so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like
“oh yeah”
what do you mean OH YEAH?
you’re actually so shocked
gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen
doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc
he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit
TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.
Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.
Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.
“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”
Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”
You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"
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thank you for reading !
tags: @happysmileybee
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