#lies dramatically on the table
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stardustvanfleet · 1 year ago
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soft pretty bob jakey bc i’ve been having a tough week and i miss him :-( 🩷
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syrips · 1 year ago
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I do in fact read your tags, and they are about 40% of the reason why I follow this blog.
OHHH nOOoOOOOOOooOoOoOOOOOO
-shakes screen-
.
thats fine im sure i didnt go too wild in tags- fdsjk
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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago
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“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.
The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.
“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.
“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”
“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.
“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”
“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”
“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”
“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.
“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.
“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”
“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”
“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.
“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.
“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.
“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.
“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.
“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.
“How old were you??” Duke asked.
“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”
“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”
“Sure?”
“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.
“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.
“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.
Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.
Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.
"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.
"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.
"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.
"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.
"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.
"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"
"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."
"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.
"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.
"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.
"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.
"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.
"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.
"Red Hood's signature."
The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.
"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.
...
...
...
The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.
"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.
"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"
"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.
"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."
"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.
"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."
Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.
"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.
"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"
"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.
"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."
"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"
"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."
"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.
Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"
"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."
Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.
Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.
Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.
"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."
Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.
"You won't have to leave."
"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.
"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.
"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.
"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.
Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.
After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.
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girlygguk · 8 days ago
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such an asshole ⋆ jjk
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popular jock jk x popular cheerleader fem reader
draft dump, drabble, fluff, 1328 words, jungkook is oc's #1 bff and #1 protector, jk is cold to others, except her, bitchy queen bee oc, brief lil taekook squabble, tae's situationship makes a comment toward oc, jk doesn't like that, cute read
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the cafeteria was loud. hobi’s laugh was louder.
he was in the middle of one of his laughing fits—the kind that had him slapping his knees, the table, and unfortunately, anyone sitting too close. today’s victim was taehyung, who rubbed his arm with a wince but couldn’t help laughing along even through the pain.
“hobi, you’re going to bruise the poor boy,” you hummed, stabbing a green grape from your tray with your fork before popping it into your mouth.
“deserves it,” your best friend muttered, reaching over to steal two grapes off your tray like the menace he was. his long fingers twirled one in his hand before casually tossing it into his mouth.
you turned to jungkook, narrowing your eyes, but he was already watching, his lips quirked as if waiting for you to say something. you opened your mouth to do exactly that, call out his audacity to take your grapes when his own tray of untouched food sat right in front of him, when taehyung interrupted.
“uh, fuck off, kook,” tae scoffed through a laugh, still rubbing his arm. “there wasn’t enough time to make that pass, and you know it.”
you blinked amusedly, chewing slowly with another grape speared on your fork as you watched the scene.
“there was enough time for your grandma to make that fuckin’ pass, hyung,” jungkook rolled his eyes before reaching for your vitamin water.
he unscrewed the cap and took a big gulp, passing it to you when your hand reached out for your own sip. when you were done, he took the bottle back and re-lidded it while taehyung's annoyed grumble cut through the air.
“my grandma’s in a wheelchair, you assh—”
“exactly,” jungkook deadpanned, placing the drink back on the table and reaching for another grape from your tray.
you gasped through a laugh, wrapping both hands around his larger one to keep it away from your food. “no, j! you wanted pizza, so eat your nasty ass cardboard—”
“there wasn’t enough time!” taehyung whined while you were in fits of giggles, paying little attention to his protest as you swatted jungkook away when he tried to dodge your hands and sneak more grapes.
when tae didn’t get the response he wanted from jungkook, he turned to the rest of the group with a dramatic frown. “guys?? don’t you think there wasn’t enough time?”
jungkook finally gave up wrestling you, letting his hand rest on your thigh as he glanced down at your tray with the most pitiful look. “just one, please?” he murmured softly. “don’t want pizza anymore…”
you rolled your eyes, sliding the tray toward him, a small smile tugging at your lips. you didn’t actually care; you just liked making him work for it.
as he picked at the grapes, you unwrapped a muesli bar, leaning your head on his shoulder while taehyung continued his tirade, searching the table for backup. “guys, seriously—don’t you think there wasn’t enough time?”
“i don’t know how to play football,” jimin shrugged, biting into a chicken finger. “and i wouldn’t care even if i did, taehyungie.”
you snickered at his response while taehyung groaned dramatically, clearly growing more frustrated. jungkook just watched him with a dull expression, almost finished with the fruit on your tray.
hobi agreed with taehyung, saying there wasn’t enough time, while namjoon shook his head, disagreeing. growing more desperate, taehyung turned to lia who sat beside him. “li, what about you? you know how to play, right?”
lia perked up, blinking prettily at him. “uh, yeah. definitely enough time,” she nodded confidently, making tae jut his chin out triumphantly at jungkook.
jungkook’s only response was a mocking nod as he finished off the last grape before taking the rest of the muesli bar you held out for him. “and you, y/n?” taehyung asked, turning to you with big, hopeful eyes. “what d’you think?”
you finished chewing your mouthful before meeting his expectant look with alittle shrug. “i think there was enough time, tae.” when you saw his shoulders droop slightly, you added lightly, “but it doesn’t matter. it was just a practice rally. who even cares—”
“course you’d say that,” lia muttered under her breath, popping a fry into her mouth.
your brows lifted slightly, tilting your head a little in amusement. “hm?”
the table fell silent. lia blinked up, pursing her lips before awkwardly laughing. “i just mean, like, of course you’d say that… you’d agree with jungkook no matter what, right? that’s, like… your thing?”
you bit back a laugh, very happily about to respond. but before you could, jungkook cut in, his voice cold and bored. “who even are you again?”
hobi’s strangled gasp cut through the air at his words. jimin buried his face in hobi’s chest to muffle his snickers while namjoon stared wide-eyed at his tray, hand pressed tightly over his mouth to cover his grin.
“aish… come on, kook,” taehyung winced lightly, glancing between the three of you awkwardly.
you didn’t blame tae for not really knowing how to react. you were all friends, had been for a long time. but lia was his latest link, and he seemed to like her a lot. you didn’t actually care about what she had to say anyway. she was new to cheer, and you knew from the moment you met her there was no substance to anything that came out of her mouth, so she didn’t bother you in the slightest.
your best friend, on the other hand? bothered.
“no, really,” jungkook said, tossing the empty wrapper onto the tray and sliding his hand back onto your thigh. “i mean, i know your name is ‘lee’ because taehyung just said it, but i honestly don’t even remember you sitting down…”
you absentmindedly fiddled with his fingers in your lap, head tilted curiously as you waited for lia’s response. but all she could do was open and close her mouth, clearly at a loss for words. “wh- i-” she stammered, looking to taehyung for help before scoffing lightly, “i’ve been sitting here, like, every day for the last week…”
jungkook just blinked slowly. he turned his head to you with a confused look, as if he was genuinely trying to figure out if what she said was true. you nodded slightly, your lips twitching as you confirmed she had, in fact, been sitting there. lia’s jaw dropped in disbelief as jungkook simply turned back to her, pursing his lips.
“oh,” he muttered, not sparing her a second glance as he picked up his phone with his free hand, swiping through it like the conversation had never even happened.
the table fell silent for a beat before jimin finally lost it, bursting into laughter that had him clutching hobi tighter. taehyung groaned, burying his face in his hands as you quietly laughed, your head leaning back against jungkook’s shoulder.
lia swallowed harshly in humiliation before muttering something about class, hastily gathering her things and leaving the table. you watched her walk off, your mind already wondering if she’d show up to practice tonight. you hoped she would.
“that was mean, kookie…” you said, turning to him with a pout. there wasn’t a hint of sincerity in your voice, though, and he knew it.
jungkook locked his phone, his gaze trailing over your pretty face before humming lowly, “meaner than what you would’ve said?”
your lips pursed as you pretended to think it over before nodding. “uh-huh. i’m an angel.”
“mhm,” he hummed, though the smile tugging at his lips told you he knew better. his hand tightened around your thigh, sliding you closer to him on the bench.
you chuckled softly, looping your arm through his and resting your cheek against his bicep. he opened his instagram to show you a reel he thought you’d find funny, as if he’d already completely forgotten about the last five minutes.
such an asshole, you thought amusedly. god, it was hot.
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perm taglist @elinaki92 @parapiop7 @photogenius-530 @vantaebearr @crazy-eight17 @aalisiyahxstar @lovieku @apobangpogirlyyy @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @whoa-jo @kooeuphoria @junecat18 @fr0ggieth1nk @joonwater @myjungkookthighs @nikidream24 @whothefuckisthishoe @4noirre @gaebestie @lllucere @kissyfacekoo @rpwprpwprpwprw @granataepfelchen @yoonstaar
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m00nl1ghts1vt · 2 months ago
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Pierced - Chris Sturniolo
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Requested by anon Part two Pairings - bfb!Chris x fem!Reader Warnings - MDNI, strong language, mentions of nudes, mentions of nipple piercings, suggestiveness Summary - During a movie night with you best friend and his brothers, Chris takes a photo on your phone while you're in the bathroom, but what he doesn't expect to see is the most recent picture in your camera roll. W/c - 1275 A/n - Had to show Chris some love since I don't write about him enough 🥹 Chris girlies stand up!! My top post right now is Sketchbook which is about Chris!! Tags - @lvrsturniolo (if anyone else wants tagged just let me know!!) Masterlist Current Matt series - City of Love
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The dimmed light of the tv flashed as the dramatic horror scene danced across the screen. It was movie night with your best friend, Nick, his brothers joining in as usual. Looking up from your phone occasionally, the movie was the last thing on your mind - you had just sent a tit pic to your current situationship. Waiting on his response made your stomach flip more intensely by the second. 
“I have to pee,” you announced before setting your phone down on the coffee table and exiting the room. “Okay but hurry up. This is bitch is so about to die,” Nick calls after you. You can tell by his late response that he was really into the movie. You make your way to the hallway bathroom, hurrying the process, and washing your hands afterward. 
When you exit the bathroom, making sure to flip the light off behind you, you realize you don’t have your phone. Backtracking and scoping out the bathroom, you finally remember you left it on the coffee table - unlocked at that. 
You cheeks flush a dark shade of red at the thought of one of the boys seeing what you sent the guy you had been fucking the last few months. Normally it wasn’t something you’d do but you felt comfortable with him, it wasn’t a worry of the picture being shared. You had trust in your situationship, it was a secret after all. Only Nick knew because you told him everything. 
You race back to the living room, hoping your phone was still on the coffee table untouched. To your dismay, you see Chris standing there with your phone in his hand and a flustered expression etched across his face. He looks up from the phone, his eyes meeting yours and quickly falling back down to your phone. Your eyes widen and you fight back the redness that’s trying to make itself known on your cheeks. You rush up to him, snatching your phone out of his hands, “why are you going through my phone?”
You look at your locked screen, face recognition immediately identifies you and unlocks your phone. You scroll up and over, accessing your open apps only to find none are open anymore. Remembering you had your messages and photos app open before you left for the bathroom, you narrow your eyes at Chris, “you were going through my phone!”
“No, I wasn’t!” Chris exclaims but his defensive tone tells you the opposite. He looks at you, letting his eyes fall to your chest for a slight moment. No fucking way. “I only took a picture,” he says after collecting himself, his voice a lot more calm now. 
The kid was lying through his teeth and you knew it. Being friends with Nick for the last year, you’ve become accustomed to Chris’s bullshit white lies. When you first met him, he’d tell you all types of random things that weren’t true. He loved seeing the look on your face when you figured out it was all a little tale he put together off the top of his head. You were gullible and he thought it was hilarious. What he didn’t think was hilarious, however, was the picture of your boobs plaster across your screen when he accidentally swiped left after viewing the quick flick he took on your phone. In fact he thought it was the sexiest tit pic he had ever seen in his life. And that fact your nipples were pierced made it even better for him. 
Deciding not to argue with him, you make your way to your spot. Chris’s eyes follow your every move until you sit down, “what?” you huff at him, crossing your arms over your chest. He mumbles, “nothing,” and sits down on the couch opposite from you. 
He definitely saw the picture. There’s no way he didn’t. 
Chris had a hard time coping with how the picture made him feel. He knew you were off limits, being Nick’s best friend, but his new discovery had him feeling different about you. He suddenly didn’t give a fuck about Nicks ‘off limits’ speech he gave him and Matt before bringing you over for the first time. Chris spent the rest of the movie glancing at you from time to time. You’d catch him often, his gaze making you shift in your seat. Little did you know - he was undressing you with his eyes the whole time. 
You finish the movie with the boys around 2am, ignoring Chris's occasional glances. Nick was fast asleep on the couch and Matt had already disappeared to his room. Chris was sprawled out on the couch he was laying on. You watch as he lets out a yawn and swings his feet to the edge of the couch. Chris stands up, stretching his arms over his head, making his shirt rise and expose his lower torso. The faint happy trail literally made you want to go feral. He looks at you, this time with a knowing smirk pulls at his lips. “I’ll bring you a pillow and blanket,” striding out of the room and looking at you over his shoulder with a goofy smile. 
The look on his face only makes you want to go after him, so you do. Jumping to your feet and racing out of the room. You turn the corner and as soon as Chris comes into your sight, “hey!” 
He turns around to face you with the same foolish smile, “what?” Even though you hated the thought of someone seeing intimate photos of you, you’d rather it be someone you were close to rather than a stranger.
“You saw that picture, didn’t you,” the words falling out of your mouth like vomit. It was more of a statement than a question. His actions earlier in the night already confirmed your suspicions. Chris stays quiet, not letting himself make eye contact with you. He knew he’d fold as soon as he looked at you. “Don’t lie,” you press the issue. You needed him to promise to never tell a soul, and burn it out of his memory in the process.
Your words make Chris’s eyes land on you, “they’re pierced,” he states simply. A familiar hot sensation creeps up to your cheeks once again making him notice almost immediately. He clears his throat, “no, I mean it’s hot. I didn’t know you had them,” redeeming himself quickly. 
“Thanks, I got them last year,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest, and furrowing your eyebrows at him. Chris knowing such an intimate detail about you made you more nervous than usual. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that he saw that picture, the gap between the two of you was way smaller than it normally was. Chris stares at you with a seductive smirk before looping his finger around the string of your pajama pants, sending goosebumps up your arms. He opens his mouth to speak, “can I see the-,” before rudely getting cut off by a sleepy Matt opening his bedroom door. 
Chris jolts a few feet back, trying to act like he didn’t just try to make a move on you. Matt yawns, rubbing his eyes, “what are you guys doing out here?” It was clear he was oblivious, his sleepy state taking over him, making it impossible to comprehend what’s actually going on. Chris keeps his eyes locked on yours for a moment, “nothing, just getting y/n/n some blankets.” He finally breaks his intense gaze, looking over to his brother, “go back to sleep. We’ll be quiet. Promise,” before he locks his eyes on you again.
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drabbles-mc · 6 months ago
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Lucky For You
Tyler Owens x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, fluff, mentions of hospitals/injuries, no use of "y/n"
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: earlier tonight i lied to myself and said i wouldn't work on any new oneshots until i finished a wip. but I've been marinating on this idea since last week and i just had to write it down. just a short cute little fluffy somethin'! my first twisters fic. hope you enjoy!
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You were shaking your head as you walked back over to the side of the picnic table that Tyler was sitting at. You had a beer bottle in one hand, the other resting on Tyler’s shoulder as you stepped in so you could plop back down beside him at the table.
“I’m still trying to figure out what you guys told Lily to say,” you gestured to Lily then Kate with the bottom of your beer bottle before taking a quick sip, “to get Kate to cave so quickly.” You gave Lily a playful smile. “What’d you say to convince her? Hm? ‘Cause lord knows it wasn’t either of these two,” you said as you nodded to Tyler first, then Boone.
Both men looked at you with dramatic looks of offense. “What?” Tyler asked, grin starting to curl his lips as he spoke. “You don’t think we were charming or convincing enough on our own?”
You rolled your eyes as he draped his arm around you. “No, I don’t.”
It got another wave of laughter. Tyler took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to lean in and kiss your temple. “Seemed to work just fine on you.” He reached across and stole your beer bottle from you, taking a sip before allowing you to snatch it back. “And you said yes to a way more dangerous proposition.”
You shook your head even though you were smiling, even though you could feel your cheeks warming. It was no great secret, or even breaking news at this point after the last few years you’d spent married to the ridiculous man sitting on the picnic table bench next to you. Sometimes, though, you couldn’t help the cheesy grin that crossed your face when you became a little more aware than usual of the wedding band on your hand.
“That’s different,” you said, not that it mattered, not that it helped your case at all as Tyler continued to nettle you good-naturedly.
“How’d you two meet, anyway?” Kate asked.
It was a fair question. You didn’t chase with the rest of them, never had. You’d met and fallen in love with Tyler before he decided to make a career out of it. The journey wasn’t always a smooth or easy one, but you never doubted him, or your relationship, not even for a second. Even in the hard times. A lot can happen over the course of six years, but you still clearly remembered when you first met him.
Tyler had started watching you the second he realized where Kate’s question was going. He watched the little twitches and shifts of your hands and facial expressions as you went rapid-fire back down memory lane. When you ended up with a little smirk on your face, he knew that you were all too happy to tell the story.
You took another drink from your beer bottle before just handing it back to Tyler, rather than trying to make him steal it again. “When I met Tyler, I’d say about, oh, seventy percent? Yeah, seventy. About seventy percent of his face was covered in bruises and bumps. Fractured cheekbone, split lip.” You turned and looked at him even though you were talking to Kate. “He was lookin’ real cute.”
She laughed, but you could see the mild confusion in her eyes as she looked back and forth between the two of you. “You find him after a rough chase, or…?”
You smiled and shook your head. “We met back before he was the infamous Tornado Wrangler.” Leaning forward, you braced your arms flat on the picnic table, Tyler’s hand sliding from your shoulder down to the center of your back, his palm warming you through your tank top. “They brought him to the hospital that I work at after he got stomped out by a bull at the rodeo.” You felt his fingers drumming against your back and your smile stretched a little wider. “I wasn’t even supposed to be checkin’ in on anyone in the wing he was in, but the nurse who was supposed to help discharge him had to leave.”
Tyler had a cocky little smirk on his face. “Lucky for you though.”
You gave him a look that didn’t pack nearly as much of a punch as it should of since you were grinning. “Yeah, real lucky for me that Jay’s kid got in a fight at school so he had to leave and he left you to me.”
Tyler laughed. “He was cute but I gotta say, I think you’re a little cuter.”
You gave him a playful shove, which he responded to by looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer again. You shook his head at him before looking back at Kate. “Anyway, as I was saying. I go into his room to talk through some of the paperwork with him, and with one eye practically swollen shut still this man right here is tryin’ to get my number.”
“Actually, if I remember right—”
“You were concussed into next Tuesday—I doubt you remember much of anything right.”
“If I remember,” he repeated with a laugh, “I was actually tellin’ you that you should just jot my number down from my patient forms so you could call me sometime.”
You looked at Kate with a feigned nonplussed look. “Told me somethin’ about making a ‘house call’. Real bold for a man who was about half an inch away from some serious brain damage.”
“Probably what gave him the confidence to ask in the first place,” Lily piped up with a laugh.
Everyone was laughing, and listening. Kate might’ve been the only one in present company who hadn’t heard the story before, but it wasn’t as though it was something that the two of you were constantly rehashing all the time. The two of you usually kept the retellings amusing enough anyway, allowing the rest of the crew to throw in their two cents even though they hadn’t been there when it all started. After all, Tyler might’ve been the one you met first, and under some pretty dire conditions, but you’d been around to help out the rest of the team plenty of times since then. Whether you were making sure they were all alright after a rough chase, or meeting up with them in the towns that had been blown through to see who you could help even if you weren’t off the clock. You might not have chased with the rest of them, but you were still part of the team.
“How long did it take for him to wear you down, then?” Kate asked.
 The shit-eating grin on Tyler’s face grew tenfold. He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours. “Go ahead. Tell her.”
You dropped your forehead so that it rested on top of your forearms for a moment before looking up and at Kate again. “I gave him my number after I pushed him to the lobby in his wheel chair.”
“Doctor’s orders, by the way,” he interjected with a shake of his head. “I didn’t need it.”
You rolled your eyes but kept going. “He was pretty persistent the whole way down, so I told him if he still remembered my name and number by the time his fractures all healed up, I’d meet him for a cup of coffee or somethin’.”
“Cup of coffee ended up bein’ a split six-pack and a failed bonfire at her cousin’s place, by the way,” he added on with a chuckle.
“Yeah, and your lip still wasn’t fully healed.”
He smirked. “Didn’t stop you though.” You lightly swatted his chest with the back of your hand but you didn’t say anything to refute his statement. “So really, what I’m hearin’, is that you shouldn’t be havin’ any doubts about our charms.”
“Sayin’ yes to a date is nothing like—”
“You also said yes to marryin’ him,” Lily added on, always happy to stir the pot just a little. “Y’know, with the ring that he almost lost in a chase.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “If I left it at home I was sure she’d find it!”
“Yeah,” Lily laughed as she argued, “and if the chase went wrong somebody on the other end of the county would find it. Then what?”
Tyler laughed and shrugged. “Corner store sells Ring Pops.”
You had no shot at tamping down your smile. “Prob’ly still would’ve said yes, too.”
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(divider by @saradika 💞)
Twisters Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added to any of my taglists): @garbinge
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banzonism · 1 month ago
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YOU BELONG WITH ME
one-shot
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: romance, drama, comedy, angst, fluff, slow burn, love pining
tags: football player! jk, photographer! jk, student leader! reader, high school au, chilhood friend, boy next door jk, bff drama, friends to lovers, yeontan cameo
synopsis: Beneath the light banter and playful teasing of childhood friends lies a deep well of unspoken feelings, simmering just out of reach. Quick glances shared during laughter hold more meaning than anyone dares to acknowledge. But everything shifts dramatically when a heartfelt letter reveals unexpected truths, shattering the carefully constructed lives they have built. Will they find their way back to each other and uncover the truth of their feelings? In the end, they must find out if they really belong with each other.
words count: 10k
notes: hello everyone! here's another one-shot from me, and let me tell you i've been thinking about this fic a lot lot lot bc i'm a sucker of this kind of romance, sorry.... inspired by TS "you belong with me” mv but with a twist! if you’re a swiftie, you’ll probably notice quite a few nods to the iconic mv—incorporated some of its most memorable scenes into the story. hope you enjoy this fun, nostalgic ride <3
p.s. dont come for my girl Sana—she might be a little extra in the beginning scenes, but trust me she’s worth it! & threw a Yeontan moment to honor him... fly high, little one 🕊
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The gym buzzed with energy as students rushed around, their laughter and conversations creating a lively atmosphere for the school’s event preparations. Colorful decorations filled the room, and tables were piled high with craft supplies. As the student council leader, you moved through the crowd with a clipboard, checking off tasks and motivating your excited team.
“Hey, Miss Y/N!” called out a freshman, her face showing worry. “Can you help us with this banner? It’s too high!”
“Got it!” you answered with determination, quickly heading to where a sturdy ladder was leaning against the wall. You set it up under the spot where the banner needed to go and felt a surge of confidence as you grabbed the banner in one hand and some tape in the other.
Climbing the ladder, each step brought you closer to the colorful paper reaching up to the ceiling. But as you neared the top, your foot slipped a little on the rung. In that quick moment, everything seemed to slow down. “Oh no—” you gasped, trying hard to steady yourself. Before you knew it, you slipped down the ladder and landed with a thud on the polished gym floor. The loud noise echoed in the sudden silence that followed.
Laughter erupted around you, filling the air with amusement. At the center of it all was Sana , the cheerleading captain and your former bestfriend. Her laughter rang out, almost mocking, as she stood with her friends, arms crossed and a smug smirk on her face, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
"Be careful, Y/N," she mocked, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Being busy might make you grow old faster." Her laughter felt sharp, and it stung even more when you noticed she didn’t offer to help you up.
Heat flooded your cheeks, mixing embarrassment with frustration, but you fought to keep it under control. Taking a deep breath, you stood up and brushed off your shirt, straightening your back. “Alright, everyone, let’s get back to work! We have an event to make special!” you said, putting on a genuine smile that energized the team.
The room buzzed with renewed focus as your enthusiasm spread, pulling everyone back into the excitement of preparing for the event. Sana rolled her eyes and turned away with her group, their giggles trailing behind, but you didn’t let their laughter get you down.
“Y/N, are you okay?” a familiar voice called through the noise. You turned to see Kim Namjoon, the student council secretary and the head editor of the school paper, approaching with a concerned look on his face, a notebook tucked under one arm.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied with a grin. “Just stumbled a bit, nothing to worry about.”
“Impressive,” he said, chuckling. “Not many can fall like that and still walk away with confidence.”
"You think?" you grin. "Add it to the school paper column. Speaking of which, I need your help editing later." Namjoon smiles, his warmth reassuring.
While being the heaď of the student council was a big responsibility, you believed that your writing skills were really what helped you lead. Every meeting, every plan for events, and every motivational speech was shaped by your years of writing experience. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was a vital tool that helped define your leadership style.
As the day went on, you guided the team with determination, turning your fall into a funny story rather than a moment of embarrassment. With the gym transforming into a lively celebration of school spirit, you felt a swell of pride in both the team and yourself for staying true to what really mattered.
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
The following day was the big foundation day event, and it turned out to be a tremendous success. As the sun set, you breathed a sigh of relief, feeling proud of how everything had gone. You had led your team to pull off one of the year's most important events, and now you could finally focus on your studies again, catch up on assignments, and enjoy some much-needed relaxation.
But then, things took an unexpected turn.
That evening, the school's football team had a crucial game against a rival school, which brought a huge crowd to the stadium. At first, you had no plans to go; you were determined to finish your essays and study for your upcoming exams. Just as you were about to dive into your books, you received a call from Namjoon.
“Hey Y/N, I know this is really last minute, but can you come by the office?” he asked, sounding urgent.
Curious and a bit worried, you made your way to the editorial office. Being part of the school publication was something you loved, but tonight, you hoped it wouldn’t mean too much extra work.
When you arrived, Namjoon greeted you with a stressed look. “Y/N, I really need your help. You're one of our best writers, and we’re in a tight spot.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What’s happened?”
“Yunjin, who was supposed to write about tonight’s football game, is sick and can’t make it,” Namjoon explained, urgency in his voice. “We need someone to fill in and write the article for tomorrow’s paper. I know it’s short notice, but you’re our best option. Can you take it on?”
You paused, thinking about all the homework and studying waiting for you at home. “Namjoon, I’m not sure I can do this. Writing sports articles isn’t really my thing.”
Namjoon shot you a reassuring smile. “You just have to write down what happens during the game and maybe ask a few of our players about it afterward. You’re a fantastic writer, Y/N. I know you can handle this.”
Feeling torn, you considered the school, the players who had worked so hard for this moment, and how important it was to share their story with everyone.
“Okay, Joon,” you said with newfound determination. “I’ll do it.”
Namjoon visibly relaxed and handed you a notebook and a press pass. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. I know you’ve already put in a lot of effort for the school. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
You smirked and raised an eyebrow. “You better. I’m counting on you for lunch for a week.”
Namjoon laughed. “Deal. Now go make it a great article. Good luck!”
With that, you headed towards the stadium, notebook in hand, ready to take on another challenge.
Later, under the bright lights of the stadium, you were caught up in the exciting atmosphere of the game. The crowd's cheers surrounded you as you walked along the sidelines, your press pass hanging around your neck. The lights created dramatic shadows over the players as they warmed up, and you could feel their energy in the air. You stopped for a moment, heart racing, to write down your initial thoughts about the buzz surrounding the upcoming match and the rival team's arrival.
Then, you saw him.
The golden boy everyone had been talking about. He was someone you had known since you were kids—the one who always made it difficult for you to hold his gaze for long. Memories flooded back of sunny afternoons spent playing in your backyards, the shy smiles exchanged during those brief encounters, and that unmistakable flutter in your stomach whenever he was near.
He stood in the middle of the field, naturally drawing everyone's attention, with his dark hair damp from practicing, strands sticking to his forehead. His jersey fit him perfectly, showcasing his athletic build. You could see the fire in his eyes from where you stood—a mix of determination and passion that made him even more captivating.
When the game ended with an exciting win for your school, the stadium roared with cheers. A wave of pride swelled inside you—not just for the team's victory but for the chance to capture this moment through your writing.
As you lingered on the sidelines, you felt torn about whether to approach him. You had enough material for your article, but a small voice inside you urged that this opportunity was too special to miss. Just as you were about to decide, a familiar voice broke into your thoughts.
“Hey, Y/N!”
You turned sharply, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest. There he was, striding towards you with that effortless confidence you both admired and envied. His jersey clung to him, damp with sweat, his hair tousled, and that bunny-like smile brighter than the stadium lights surrounding you.
“Hey, Jungkook,” you replied, trying to sound calm even though you felt anything but. “Congratulations on your win!”
“Thanks,” he said, tilting his head with a curious look, making you feel both exposed and energized. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Did you enjoy the game?”
“Of course! For the article tomorrow,” you replied, clutching your notebook like a lifeline. “You know, school paper stuff.”
“How did you find the game?” he asked, his tone light yet genuinely curious as if he wanted your opinion.
“That’s cool. I mean, you’re cool. I mean—you’re great,” you blurted, the words tumbling before you could stop them. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, and the soft chuckle that escaped his lips didn’t make it any easier to compose yourself.
“Thanks,” Jungkook replied, tilting his head slightly as he studied you.
Trying to regain your composure, you cleared your throat. “Could I ask you a few questions about the game?”
“Sure,” he replied effortlessly.
You began asking him the standard post-game questions, scribbling down his answers. But as he spoke, your focus wavered. His voice was smooth and warm, carrying an understated excitement that made you lose track of your notes. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes sparkled when he talked about the team’s victory, how the corner of his lips curled into a smile that made your heart skip a beat. Your attention drifted, and your writing soon became a mess of half-written sentences.
“Hey, babe,” a voice interrupted, snapping you out of your daze.
You looked up to see Sana, the head cheerleader—of course she would be here—striding over with her usual charm. Her cheer uniform fit her perfectly, highlighting her athletic build. In that moment, the butterflies in your stomach shifted to a sinking feeling.
“Oh, hey, Sana,” Jungkook greeted her, and you noticed a change in his tone.
“Great game! You were amazing out there,” Sana said before throwing her arms around him in a sudden hug. Jungkook’s body stiffened briefly, and his expression showed mild discomfort as he pulled away.
When she finally let go, Sana’s gaze shifted to you, her smile on a sharper edge. “What’s this?” she asked, nodding toward your notebook.
“It’s for the school paper,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral.
“Last time I checked, you weren’t into sports writing, Y/N.”
Her words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you debated whether it was worth responding. You were exhausted from the long day, and the last thing you wanted was to engage in her petty comments. But something about her smug tone lit a fire in you.
“And the last time I checked,” you shot back, your eyes lockig onto hers with a glare, “was a year ago. So, you don’t know much about what I’m doing now, Sana.”
The tension in the air thickened, but before you could say more, Jungkook stepped in, his voice calm yet firm. “Hey, what’s going on?”
You forced a polite smile, snapping your notebook shut. “Thanks, Jungkook,” you said abruptly, needing an escape. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go now.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” he replied softly, his eyes lingering on you. “See you around.”
As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a sting. Jungkook and Sana had been linked ever since she became the cheerleading captain, though rumors swirled that they weren’t officially a couple. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, but deep down, it did—just a little. This wasn’t just anyone; it was your former best friend and the boy who had unknowingly captured your heart for years.
Later that night, you sat at your desk, struggling to finish an article you had started. The soft light from Jungkook’s room peeked through your curtains, reminding you of how near yet far he felt. His smile and the sound of his voice echoed in your mind. As you lay there, sleep refused to come, and you found yourself thinking about what could have happened if you had ever had the courage to tell him your true feelings.
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
After weeks passed and final exams wrapped up, you threw yourself into your studies. It wasn’t just about making your parents proud or keeping your position as a student leader; it was about getting a scholarship to the university of your dreams, something you had worked toward for years. After weeks of sleepless nights and exhausting tests, your final stretch as a high school senior came to a close.
That afternoon, completely worn out, you headed straight to your room and collapsed onto your bed. When you woke up three hours later, it was dark outside, and your mom called you for dinner. Rubbing your eyes, you stretched and turned toward your window. That’s when you saw that your curtain was slightly open, revealing Jungkook’s room across the way.
He was there, his face faintly lit by a desk lamp, talking animatedly on the phone. Even from a distance, you could see the tension in his posture—his brows were knitted together, his jaw tense, and his hand was tugging at his hair in frustration. Concern rose in your chest. Without thinking, you grabbed a notepad and marker from your desk and quickly jotted down a message.
"Are you okay?"
You held it up to the window, feeling anxious as you waited. It took him a moment to notice you, but when he did, his expression softened a bit. He sighed and wrote back:
"Tired of drama."
Unsure of how to reply, you eventually wrote:
"Sorry."
He looked at your note, and a faint, tired smile flickered across his face. He shook his head gently, as if to say it wasn’t your fault. The simple exchange left a strange heaviness in your chest despite the silence between you. You wondered what troubles he was facing, and for a brief moment, you wished you could reach out and help him.
Jungkook then waved at you, a small gesture that felt like a goodnight. You waved back, signaling for him to get some rest. He smiled again, this time it felt more genuine, before closing his curtain. The room immediately fell silent, but thoughts of him lingered long after he disappeared from view.
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
On a laid-back Sunday afternoon, you decided to take a break from your busy life by diving into a book that had caught your interest. You found a quiet spot on a bench in the park, where the calm surroundings helped soothe your busy mind.
Out of the blue, you were startled by a loud bark. Looking up, you saw a tiny, fluffy Pomeranian running towards you. Its shiny black and brown fur sparkled in the sunlight, and its bright eyes shone with playful energy. A smile spread across your face as the little dog, looking like a cuddly stuffed animal, stopped barking and approached you cautiously.
“Hey there, little buddy,” you said softly, reaching out your hand. The dog sniffed your fingers for a moment and then nuzzled against you, clearly enjoying the attention. Feeling a rush of affection for dogs, you scratched behind its ears and laughed as it playfully licked your hand.
Just then, a voice called out from a distance, “Yeontan!” You looked up to see Jungkook jogging toward you, looking a bit rushed.
“There you are,” he said, picking up the dog and holding it in his arms. “I’m sorry if he bothered you.”
“Oh, not at all,” you replied with a smile, still petting Yeontan. “He’s so cute!”
Jungkook chuckled and scratched Yeontan behind the ear. “He’s not actually mine, though. Taehyung asked me to look after him for a while. He can be quite a handful sometimes.”
“I don’t mind at all,” you said, charmed by the little fluffball. “I love dogs. He’s just too adorable!”
“Right?” Jungkook grinned. “He can be a bit of a troublemaker, though. So, what are you doing here? Just reading?”
“Something like that,” you shrugged. “I needed a break to clear my mind. It helps.”
“That's good to hear. You deserve some time off,” Jungkook replied, his tone growing softer. “So, what’s your plan after graduation? Are you staying here for college?”
You paused, closing your book as you considered your response. “Honestly, I’m not sure. My mom and I haven’t talked much about it, but I’m applying to a few schools that are far away. What about you?”
Jungkook sighed, absentmindedly petting Yeontan. “My dad wants me to stay here and take business classes while focusing on football. He has this whole plan for me to take over his business.”
“Is that what you want?” you asked, tilting your head to study his expression.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. “I don’t want to let him down, but…”
“But what?” you prompted.
“I really loved photography and film,” he said quietly. “I told my dad I wanted to study film, but he wasn’t too excited. He thinks football is my best chance at making it to the national team, and that everything else is just a hobby.”
You frowned, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him. “That sounds rough, Jungkook. It’s great that your dad believes in you, but it’s your life. You should do what makes you happy.”
“That’s what your dad always said, right?” Jungkook remarked, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I miss Uncle Seojun. He always encouraged me and was so excited about my photography projects.”
“He really was,” you replied, smiling at the memory of your father. “I remember how thrilled you were when you got that camera for your birthday. You couldn’t stop talking about it!”
He laughed softly, nostalgic. “Yeah, those were good times.”
Jungkook’s gaze softened as he looked at you, momentarily distracted by a stray hair that had fallen over your face. Without thinking, he reached out and gently tucked it behind your ear. The unexpected touch made your heart skip a beat.
“There,” he said softly, almost whispering as if the moment needed a certain quiet. “Now I can see you properly.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you scrambled to find words, but your mind went blank. His hand lingered for a brief moment before he pulled away, and the faint smile he gave you sent your heart racing.
In that moment, everything else faded away—the sounds of the park and even Yeontan’s soft breathing seemed to disappear. You wondered if he could hear how loudly your heart was beating.
You both sat there quietly for a while, with Yeontan curled up between you. It felt like a snapshot of the past, a brief reminder of simpler times before life got more complicated.
But before long, the moment was disrupted. A red car pulled up nearby, and you recognized the girl stepping out—Sana. Of course, it had to be her. With her stylish cap and polished look, she approached like she owned the place.
“Hey, Jungkook! What’s taking you so long to grab Yeontan?” she called out, shattering the peaceful moment you had shared with Jungkook.
Jungkook stood up, brushing off his jeans as if to shake off the experience you’d just had. “I’ve got to go now,” he said, a hint of regret in his voice. “It was really nice talking to you again.”
“Yeah, sure,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the whirlwind of feelings inside you. “Time to go now, buddy,” you said softly to Yeontan, giving the little dog one last affectionate pat.
Jungkook sank back onto the bench, his smile brightening the moment as he gently took Yeontan’s paw and waved it toward you. “Bye, Yeontan,” you said, unable to suppress the flicker of a smile that danced on your lips despite the weight in your chest.
When Jungkook got on the passenger seat, Sana suddenly whispered to Jungkook, making them like they are kissing on your view, which made Jungkook laugh. You quickly dropped your gaze back to your book, pretending not to notice, acting as if it didn’t bother you. But it did. It always did.
The car pulled away, taking them with it, leaving you alone once again with only your book and the lingering ache in your chest.
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
The office was filled with a low hum of activity, with the sounds of papers being shuffled and keyboards tapping away. You were sitting at your usual desk, surrounded by notes, layout plans, and playlists for the upcoming graduation celebration. It was your last year of school, and as the leader of the organizing committee, you were determined to make the event truly special.
“Hey, Y/N, have you had lunch yet?” a familiar voice cut through your concentration.
Looking up, you saw Namjoon standing there with a warm smile, holding a neatly packed lunchbox.
“I’ll eat later. I was thinking of heading to the cafeteria,” you replied, forcing a tired smile.
“No need for that,” he said, placing the box down in front of you. “I brought you lunch. You’ve been working yourself to the bone lately.”
“Thanks, that really means a lot,” you said, genuinely appreciative.
“Not a problem. You deserve it,” he replied, pulling up a chair to sit next to you. “By the way, have you heard anything about your application to your dream school?”
You leaned back in your chair with a sigh. “No news yet. I’m just waiting and hoping for that scholarship. It all depends on this.”
Namjoon nodded, his expression confident. “You’ll get it. I believe in you.”
“I hope you’re right,” you said quietly, feeling the pressure weighing on you.
“It’s you, Y/N. You’ve been juggling so much—school, committee duties, everything. If anyone can handle it, it’s you,” he said earnestly, and his encouragement brought a small smile to your face.
You talked about school and Namjoon’s plans for college, enjoying the easy flow of conversation. For a moment, the stress you were feeling seemed to lift.
“So… about prom?” he asked casually, tilting his head. “Are you going? Has anyone asked you to go with them?”
You hesitated, playing with your pen. “Not yet. I’m not sure I’ll even go.”
“Why not?” he inquired.
“I’ve been so busy, and I really need to focus on studying for the scholarship. That’s what’s most important for me right now,” you explained, looking away.
Namjoon frowned a little but nodded in understanding. “I get it. But you know… you’ve worked really hard. Maybe you deserve one night to just have fun. Prom is an important event, especially for someone like you who’s given so much to this school. Just think about it, okay?”
You smiled softly, touched by his concern. “Thanks, Namjoon. I’ll think about it.”
He stood up and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Good. Now eat your lunch. You need the energy for everything you’re handling.”
As he walked away, you looked down at the lunchbox and smiled to yourself. Namjoon always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t realize it yourself.
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
Weeks passed, and the gentle light of your desk lamp lit up the messy spread of notes and open textbooks in front of you. You had been studying for hours, going over every possible topic for the entrance exam—a big test that could determine whether you got into your dream school. The clock struck midnight, but you were so focused that you barely noticed the time.
Even so, thoughts of prom kept sneaking into your mind. It wasn’t just that your friend Namjoon had encouraged you to go; it was the fact that prom, the highlight of your senior year, was happening on the same day as your exam. The test was in the morning, and there would be time to get ready afterward, but you wondered if it was worth the rush. Should you focus on your future or let yourself enjoy one night of celebration after all your hard work?
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a door open from the other side. You saw Jungkook walked into his room, his hair slightly damp, probably from football practice, and his gym bag hanging over his shoulder. He looked a mix of tired and effortlessly cool.
You quickly turned your attention back to your notes, trying not to seem obvious, but you could sense that he was watching you. When you glanced up again, you noticed him grab a notepad and a marker from his desk. He wrote something down and held it up to his window.
“Are you going to prom tomorrow?”
You froze for a moment, caught off guard by his direct question. Slowly, you grabbed your notepad and wrote back:
“No, studying.”
He read your response and his expression changed—was that disappointment? He sighed and quickly wrote another note, a small smile appearing on his face as he held it up:
“Wish you were"
Your heart skipped a beat. The simplicity of his words affected you more than you anticipated. You smiled back, feeling a mix of flattery and frustration. Prom had only been a distant thought until now, but Jungkook’s quiet hope made you reconsider.
You stood up and waved goodbye, signaling that you were heading downstairs for dinner. Your mom greeted you warmly and asked how your studying was going. You nodded, trying to focus on the meal in front of you, but your mind was elsewhere. Between the entrance exam, the upcoming prom, and Jungkook’s note, you felt like you were at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take.
That morning, your mom took you to the university for an important exam. The car ride felt both long and too short at the same time, with the scenery rushing by as your nerves tightened. This was the moment you had been working towards after many sleepless nights and self-imposed pressure. There was no turning back now.
“I know you’re feeling anxious, sweetheart,” your mom said gently. “But no matter what happens, I’m proud of you. And your dad? He would be so happy.”
You nodded, trying to push down the lump in your throat. Her comforting words eased your anxiety, even as your mind raced with worries about what could go wrong.
When you entered the exam hall, the quietness was almost overwhelming. Other students, just as nervous as you, bent over their papers. Once the exam started, it was just you, the questions in front of you, and your pen. You poured all your effort into each answer, determined to do your best.
As you walked out of the hall afterwards, doubt began to creep in. Did I do enough? you wondered. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself, “I’ve done my best. Now it’s in the hands of fate.”
Back home after lunch, you tried to distract yourself from the exam, but the thoughts kept returning. It wasn’t until exactly 1:00 PM, hours later, that your phone buzzed with a notification. An email awaited you.
Your heart raced as you opened it, and the words “Admission Results” jumped out at you. As you read through the letter, one word stood out: Congratulations.
“Oh my God,” you gasped, and then exclaimed more loudly, “I passed!”
Your mom rushed in, startled by your shout. When she saw the email on your screen, her face lit up with joy. You both started jumping around the room, laughing and crying together.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said, wrapping you in a warm hug. “Your dad would be so proud too. I just know it.”
Later, in your room, you began to imagine the life ahead of you at your dream school. New friends, exciting opportunities, and a fresh place to learn and grow. The possibilities felt endless, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly excited about the future.
Your daydream was interrupted by a loud knock on your door. Startled, you turned to see someone you didn’t expect: Sana.
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
She stood in the doorway, exuding her usual confidence, but her face was hard to read. "We need to talk," she said, crossing her arms.
The happiness from your recent achievement quickly faded as you wondered what she wanted. You stood frozen at your door, staring at Sana, completely shocked by her unexpected visit. It felt like ages since she’d last been in your house, let alone your room.
“What are you doing here?” you finally managed to ask, still trying to process her sudden appearance.
Instead of giving a straight answer, she crossed her arms and shot you an intense glare, her voice trembling with emotion. “How could you just leave me in this town? I thought we were going to college together!”
Her outburst hit you hard. “People change, Sana. Plans change. Everything changes,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady even as your heart raced.
“You didn’t even tell me?” she said, her eyes shimmering with tears that threatened to overflow.
You let out a heavy breath, feeling the weight of this tense moment. “How was I supposed to? We weren't really on good terms.”
Without another word, she walked past you, frustration clear in her body language, and sat down on the edge of your bed. “So what? Just because we weren’t talking doesn’t mean you could just vanish on me. Even if we were both acting foolish, you could’ve at least figured out a way to let me know.”
You followed her, feeling unsure whether to comfort her or give her some space. “How did you even find out I was going to another school? I’m not even sure I could pass the entrance exam.”
Sana wiped her eyes, and her frustration melted into vulnerability. “I overheard your mom mentioning it…and Jungkook told me too. And you think so little of yourself. Do you hate me that much?”
Her words cut deep. “I don’t hate you, Sana,” you replied softly, feeling your heart ache with her pain. “I’m really sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, Y/N,” she responded, her voice shaking. “I know I haven't treated you well this year. I—” Her voice broke as she buried her face in her hands, regret washing over her like a tidal wave.
You paused for a moment but then sat down next to her. “I was going to send you a letter,” you admitted. “To explain everything before graduation.”
“A letter?” she repeated, her eyes widening with curiosity. “Let me see it!”
With a heavy heart, you opened your cabinet and took out a box filled with letters you had written to people who had meant a lot to you. With shaky hands, you handed one to her.
As she started to read the letter, you noticed her expression change. Tears filled her eyes as she processed the words you had written from deep within your heart. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt this way. I’m so sorry for making you feel alone. If I could go back in time... I would give up cheerleading if it meant keeping you in my life.”
“Please don’t say that,” you replied quickly, your voice filled with urgency. “Cheerleading was your dream. I regret not being more supportive. I should have been there for you.”
Sana shook her head, a realization dawning upon her. “And I should have been there for you, too. I had no idea what you were going through with your dad’s illness. I thought you were pushing me away, but really, I just wasn’t paying attention.”
The two of you sat together, unpacking the hurt and misunderstandings that had built up over the past year. You shared how your father's health struggles had taken over your life, creating a distance you didn’t know how to overcome. Sana opened up about feeling lost when you stopped responding to her messages, believing you no longer cared about her.
“Remember that time we were supposed to hang out? I saw you hugging Jungkook, and I… I thought maybe you didn’t need me anymore,” you reminded her, the memory still vivid.
Sana’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jungkook? Oh my God, Y/N, he was just comforting me! I was upset about my parents fighting, that’s all!”
As the ridiculousness of it all hit both of you, laughter erupted, slowly easing the tension that had lingered for so long.
“And then,” you added, “I got a call from the hospital. My dad was in surgery, and I couldn’t stay.”
Sana’s expression softened, guilt showing on her face. “I thought you ditched me. I waited for you until I couldn’t anymore.”
When you finally returned home after your dad’s funeral, you had wanted to explain everything, but seeing Sana laughing with her new cheerleading friends had hurt you deeply. “I thought you’d moved on,” you admitted, trying to hold back the pain you still felt.
Sana groaned and covered her face, genuine sorrow washing over her. “We were so foolish.”
You nodded, a smile starting to emerge despite everything. “Yeah, we were.”
As the laughter faded, the weight of the past year began to lift, replaced by a sense of ease that had been absent for so long. Hours passed as you both reminisced, catching up on everything you had missed in each other’s lives. When you looked at the clock, you were surprised to see it was already 4 PM.
“Wow,” Sana said, leaning back with a playful sigh. “We just spent hours untangling a whole year’s worth of misunderstandings. Classic us.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. “Classic us! So, what’s next? How are things going with you and Jungkook?”
Sana's face shifted to one of mock shock. “Me and Jungkook? Oh, no! I think you mean me and his best friend.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, Kim Taehyung? Jungkook’s best friend?”
A sheepish smile appeared on Sana’s face. “Yep! Don't act so surprised. I was always around Jungkook because Taehyung and I... well, there’s definitely more happening there than with Jungkook.”
Your mouth dropped open. “Really? This whole time I thought—”
“Thought what? That Jungkook and I were secretly in love?” Sana laughed dramatically. “Ew, no! He’s like a brother to me. Gross.”
You felt a wave of relief, though a hint of irritation bubbled up too. “Well, how was I supposed to know? You two always hung out, and there was that time you called him ‘babe’ during the football game!”
Sana grinned mischievously. “Oh, that? Totally just messing with you. I wanted to see if you get jealous.”
“Jealous?” you repeated, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “Why would I be jealous?”
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s obvious. I have known you since we were little, and you have liked Jungkook since middle school, right?”
You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “You’re the worst.”
“And you’re just in denial about it. It’s painful to watch,” she teased.
Before you could respond, Sana leaned in closer and said, “But honestly, your face every time I was with him? Not subtle at all.”
“Well, excuse me for being human,” you muttered, glaring at her.
Sana just smirked. “Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Jungkook, but there’s definitely something between him and you.”
Your heart raced at her words, but you quickly shook your head. “You’re imagining things.”
Sana rolled her eyes. “Right. I’m the one imagining this. Not the girl who’s been crushing on Jungkook for years.”
“Can we talk about something else, please?” you begged.
“Nope! You can’t get out of this. People always thought we were a couple, but it’s silly because there’s nothing there. The only person I’m into is Taehyung.”
You blinked, trying to grasp all the new information. “So... you and Taehyung?”
“Yep!” she said, grinning. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure Jungkook knows you’re interested. Not that he doesn’t already.”
“Sana!” you shouted, throwing a pillow at her.
You both burst into laughter, the earlier tension completely gone. For the first time in ages, things felt normal between you and Sana, just like they used to be.
Suddenly, Sana spoke up enthusiastically, crossing her arms like it was settled. “You need to go to this prom!”
You sighed, leaning back against your bed. “No way. I’m not ready for this. I don’t have a dress, I didn’t make plans, and prom starts at 6 PM. Do you even know what time it is?”
Sana rolled her eyes dramatically. “Seriously, Y/N? You know they never start right at 6.”
That made you laugh. “Okay, true.”
“But I still don’t have a dress!” you protested, looking down at your jeans and oversized hoodie. “Even if I did, it's too late to get ready now.”
Sana grinned mischievously and dashed out the door. “Don’t worry! We’re the same size, remember? I’ll grab a dress from my place and be back in no time. Bye!”
Before you could argue, she was gone, leaving you surprised and somewhat amused.
As you leaned back, you reflected on how just hours ago, you wouldn’t have imagined reconnecting with Sana and laughing like old times. Life can be full of surprises.
Moments later, Sana burst through your door, a garment bag draped over her arm, grinning widely. You perked up, but then noticed what she held—a white sparkly long gown.
“Wait a second,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Where’s the other dress? I thought we were going together!”
Sana winced, her smile faltering. “About that... I actually have plans tonight. With Taehyung.”
Your jaw dropped. “You’re skipping prom for a guy?”
She raised her hands in mock defense, laughing. “I’m sorry! I can’t help it; I’m just a flawed human!”
You couldn’t help but laugh along, shaking your head at her antics. “Fine, but you owe me—big time.”
Sana smirked and shoved the garment bag into your arms. “Deal! Now go take a shower. We have a lot to do to make you look stunning.”
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the bag and headed for the bathroom. “You better not do anything weird while I’m gone.”
“Me? Weird? Never!” Sana feigned innocence.
But as soon as you closed the bathroom door, you could hear her giggling outside.
Curiosity got the better of her. Her eyes landed on a small stack of letters sitting on your desk, and one in particular caught her attention. It had Jungkook’s name written on the envelope.
She hesitated for a moment, then grabbed it. “Curiosity kills the cat, but satisfaction brings it back,” she muttered as she opened the letter.
As she read, a sly smile spread across her face. “Oh, this is perfect.” With a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, she tucked the letter into her bag, already planning how to make her night—and yours—unforgettable.
When you returned from your shower, wrapped in a towel and ready to get started, Sana was all business. “Alright, sit down. Let’s work some magic.”
The next hour was a flurry of hairspray, brushes, and accessories as Sana worked diligently, turning you into someone who looked ready for a fairytale. By the time she was done, you hardly recognized yourself in the mirror.
“Oh my god,” Sana exclaimed, stepping back to admire her work. “You’re gorgeous! I’m so proud to call you my friend.”
You rolled your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm. “Stop it, Sana. You’re just flattering me.”
“I’m serious, Y/N. You look amazing.”
Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door. Your mom peeked in, her eyes going wide in surprise.
“Wow,” she said, placing a hand on her chest. “You’re... stunning, my darling.”
“Thanks, Mom,” you replied, trying to hide your blush.
“I thought you weren’t going,” she added, tilting her head in confusion.
“Change of plans,” you said casually.
Your mom turned to Sana. “What about you? Aren’t you going out?”
Sana grinned, ready with her excuse. “I have something important to do tonight.”
You smirked, catching onto the little fib. “Yeah, important,” you teased quietly, getting a playful shove from Sana in return.
As your mom stepped out, Sana handed you your sandals, the final touch, and gave you an encouraging smile. “Alright, Cinderella, it’s time for the ball. It’s almost 7 PM!”
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
Jungkook tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited at a red light. The lights from the cars in front of him blurred as his thoughts drifted back to a note he had received from you the night before. It simply said, “No, studying.” It was straightforward and so very “you.” You were focused on your future and not swayed by a high school dance. That dedication was just one of the many things he admired about you—your ability to stay on track and ignore distractions.
But part of him selfishly wished you would go to the dance. It wasn’t about the glitz and glamour; he just wanted to see you there, enjoying yourself for once. You had worked so hard all year, and no one deserved a moment of fun more than you. And if he was honest, he simply wanted to see you smile.
He laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head at his own thoughts. What was he imagining? He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything like that. He was just your neighbor, your friend—the guy who chatted with you casually and often caught glimpses of you through your room window when your light turned on.
A car behind him honked, snapping him back to reality. The light had changed to green. He pressed the gas and moved forward, only to hear his phone buzz in the passenger seat. He took a quick look at the screen during the next stop—texts from Sana.
Sana: Sorry, I’m gonna ditch you tonight. Sorry not sorry.
Sana: But I’ve got something to give you right now. Please meet me. Thanks.
Jungkook sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment. He wasn’t surprised that Sana had backed out. It was typical of her behavior, probably running off for some adventure with Taehyung. He didn’t really care; he didn’t have high hopes for the night anyway. The excitement of prom had faded the moment you decided not to attend.
Still, the weight of his disappointment settled deeper in his heart. For a brief moment, he had imagined that tonight could be special—his chance to finally tell you how he felt. It was his last year of high school, and if he didn’t speak up now, he might never get the chance.
With a sigh, Jungkook turned his car toward Sana’s house. His thoughts raced, torn between the reality of you not being there and the small, foolish hope that maybe—just maybe—you might change your mind and show up. Although, he thought bitterly, what were the chances you felt the same way about him?
Yet, there was a little voice in the back of his mind encouraging him to take the risk. To go for it, even if it meant putting everything on the line. Because if not tonight, then when would he ever find the courage to say anything?
It all started when you moved into the neighborhood. Jungkook had heard some talk at school about a new student joining their class, but honestly, he didn’t care much about gossip. That changed one afternoon when Jungkook found himself in a bad mood after spilling his favorite treat—banana milk. As he grumbled about how his day couldn’t get any worse, you appeared, handing him a fresh carton with a simple, “Here.”
At that moment, Jungkook thought you might be an angel. He didn’t know you well yet, but your quiet kindness left a mark on him. It wasn’t something big or flashy, just a small gesture of support that meant a lot. From then on, you became friends—not best friends like you were with Sana, but close enough for him to pick up on little things about you, like how much you loved reading, how your face lit up when you talked about your favorite subjects, and how determined you were in everything you did.
You were one of the few who encouraged him to take photos, aside from his dad. When Jungkook got a camera for his birthday, he was excited that you agreed to model for him. Over time, you became one of his favorite people to photograph. There was something special about the way you carried yourself—elegant yet strong—that made every picture meaningful.
As time went on, Jungkook noticed a change in you. He would see you walking home from school, looking down and seeming to shut the world out. It wasn’t until later that he found out the truth: your father had passed away after being ill for a long time. Jungkook wanted to reach out, but you had withdrawn from school and social life. He understood that you needed time alone to grieve. Still, he couldn’t shake the concern he felt. Things had changed between you and Sana too; you weren’t talking as much anymore, and Jungkook wondered what had shifted.
He thought about asking Sana about it, but hesitated. It didn’t feel right since she had her own things going on. For a while, Jungkook even thought Sana was interested in him because she was always around, laughing and chatting. But soon he realized her attention was focused on his best friend, Taehyung. Ever since he introduced them, Sana had been trying to get Taehyung’s attention, and Jungkook ended up as her unintentional sidekick.
That sometimes frustrated him, especially when Sana interrupted moments he wanted to share with you. Like that one day you were sitting together on a bench while he was walking Taehyung’s dog, Yeontan, who had a lot of energy. Suddenly, Yeontan broke free and darted away, and Jungkook had rushed to catch him, unexpectedly running right into you. At that moment, it felt like fate.
When senior year began, you returned as a new person—stronger and more confident, with a spark in your eyes that caught everyone’s attention. As the newly elected student leader, you tackled every challenge with determination. Jungkook watched in awe. How could someone who had faced so much come back even brighter? When he found out you were watching the school’s big football game, he played like it was the most important game of his life. Every move was made with the thought of impressing you. When the team won, he secretly hoped that you had noticed him.
But it wasn’t just your accomplishments that captivated him. It was the way you hummed while studying, the light in your eyes when discussing your future, and your unwavering determination. The more time Jungkook spent with you, the deeper his feelings grew.
It wasn’t just a crush anymore. It felt complicated and overwhelming, and he couldn’t ignore it. But along with those feelings came frustration. Jungkook often felt unworthy of you. You were amazing in every way, while he thought of himself as just Jungkook. Even when he tried to pull away from his feelings, they would rush back, like waves that wouldn’t stop.
Jungkook arrived at Sana’s house, where she greeted him with a big smile. She held up an envelope, waving it around excitedly.
“Here,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Make sure you read this at the prom. Or else.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Or else what?”
Sana leaned in, lowering her voice for dramatic effect. “Or else I’ll share that karaoke video of you singing ‘Baby Shark’ at the top of your lungs last summer.”
Jungkook groaned, grabbing the envelope from her. “Seriously? That was for my little cousin’s party!”
“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that,” she teased, barely holding back her laughter. “Now go! And don’t mess this up.”
— ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ — — ♡ —
After your mom insisted on giving you a ride and your friend Sana decided not to come with you for some unclear reason, you figured a late arrival would be alright. As you walked into the venue, the lively music greeted you, and then you spotted Namjoon, who had a huge, welcoming smile on his face.
“Oh, wow, you actually made it!” he exclaimed, practically lifting you off the ground with his excitement.
“Someone talked me into it,” you replied, thinking about Sana’s enthusiastic pep talk earlier.
“Whoever that is, I owe them one! By the way, how did your entrance exam go?”
You smiled. “I passed!”
His face lit up even more. “Oh my god, I knew you would! I’m so proud of you!”
“Should we celebrate?”
And celebrate you did. The night turned into a blur of music, dancing, and laughter. Namjoon had a knack for making everything feel light and fun. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt like yourself again—free from stress and the heaviness of the past year.
But even while dancing and singing along to the songs, you couldn’t help but wonder about Jungkook. You remembered Sana saying he was supposed to be here—and even more confusing, that he was going to be her partner. The thought of him with her nagged at you, even though she had assured you there was nothing romantic going on.
Why are you even thinking about him? you thought, scolding yourself. Just because Sana said everything is fine doesn’t mean he feels the same way about you. Your thoughts were interrupted when Namjoon handed you a drink and pulled you back into the moment. “Come on, no sad thoughts tonight!” he said, grinning widely.
You laughed and accepted the drink, allowing yourself to be swept up in the music and the joy of the evening. Whatever happened later, you decided, could wait until tomorrow. For now, you were going to dance the night away.
Meanwhile, Jungkook was sitting away from the dance floor with his football teammates, lazily holding a drink. He wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying until Jimin leaned over with a cheeky grin.
“Hey, I just saw Y/N on the dance floor,” Jimin said casually, almost like he didn’t just drop a huge surprise.
Jungkook sat up straight, surprised. “You’re not kidding, right?”
“Nope,” Jimin replied, dragging out the word for more suspense. “But... she’s with Namjoon.”
The smile that had started to form on Jungkook’s face vanished. Of course you were with Namjoon. He felt a familiar wave of jealousy wash over him, even though he knew it was silly—there was nothing romantic between you two, right? Still, he couldn’t help his mind from racing.
As he glanced down at the dance floor, he spotted you right away. You were laughing, your face bright in the colorful lights as you danced with carefree joy. Despite the sting in his chest, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. You looked so happy, and that mattered to him.
“She looks amazing,” he thought, feeling a bit of a ache in his heart.
Jimin leaned closer, grinning playfully. “You’re so down bad, man. When are you going to tell her? Keeping it inside for years is painful to watch.”
“Shut up, Jimin,” Jungkook muttered, grabbing the drink from Jimin’s hand and standing up quickly.
As he walked away, something slipped from his pocket and fell to the floor.
“Uh, Jungkook? You dropped something,” Jimin called out, picking it up.
Jungkook turned around, snatching the envelope before Jimin could look closer and shoved it back into his pocket.
He made his way to the restroom, his thoughts racing. After closing the door behind him, he leaned against the sink and pulled out the envelope again.
He had completely forgotten about it in the excitement of the night. Slowly, he opened it, curiosity bubbling inside him. As he read the first few lines, his breath caught in his throat.
You excused yourself, telling Namjoon that you needed a break and wanted to find the comfort room. He nodded and kindly pointed you in the right direction. As you walked away from the crowd, the noise of the venue faded slightly, and you welcomed the moment of solitude.
But before you could push the door open, you stopped in your tracks. Jungkook was standing there, looking like he’d just seen a ghost. His eyes widened as they met yours. You gave him a small wave, unsure of what to make of his expression, but before you could say anything, he grabbed your wrist and gently pulled you outside.
“Jungkook, wait! What’s going on?” you protested, but he didn’t stop until you were far away from the venue, out of sight and earshot of the crowd.
Finally, you tugged your arm free, your breath slightly uneven. “What’s going on? Why did you bring me here?”
He looked at you, his jaw tightening like he was wrestling with something he couldn’t hold back any longer. Then he blurted out, “Do you still like me?”
You froze. “Pardon?”
“Do you have feelings for me?” His voice was more urgent this time, his eyes searching yours.
“What—Jungkook, I’m confused! What’s happening?” you stammered, until your gaze dropped to his hand. He was holding something—a letter. A very familiar letter. Your heart sank. No, this can’t be happening, you thought.
“Where did you get that?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. It was the letter. The one you wrote when you thought you had no chance with him. The one you hesitated to give because it felt too vulnerable, too raw. And now, he was holding it.
Dear Jungkook,
There’s so much I’ve been meaning to say, but I never quite found the right moment—or maybe I just didn’t have the courage. You’ve been such an important part of my life, and honestly, I can’t imagine it without you.
We’ve known each other for so long, and I still remember the little things—like the time when we were kids, and you cried because your favorite drink spilled. I gave you mine, and you smiled like the world was okay again. It might sound silly, but that moment has stayed with me.
As time has passed, I’ve come to realize that my feelings for you have deepened in ways I didn’t expect. Maybe it was during those awkward moments in middle school when you were there to help me out without making things weird. Your kindness in those moments really meant the world to me and made me like you even more.
I want to assure you that I’m not writing this to complicate our friendship because that means the world to me. I just felt it was time to be honest, especially with all the buzz around you and Sana. Regardless of what’s happening between you two, your happiness is what truly matters to me. She’s great, and you deserve nothing but the best.
Most of all, I want to thank you. Thank you for being my friend, for capturing memories through your photos when I didn’t know how to see myself, and for being there when I needed someone, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. Thank you for being a part of my dad’s life as well—I know he would be proud of the person you’re becoming.
I’m sorry for the times when I pushed you away or made it hard to talk. I know you wanted to connect, and I regret not opening up sooner. You know I’ve had my struggles, but I hope we can still be just like before.
No matter what happens, I hope you always choose what makes you happiest. You deserve that, Jungkook. I hope I’ll get to see you thriving, chasing your dreams, and smiling that smile that makes everything feel okay.
See you around.
Love,
Y/N
You should’ve known better. She always had a knack for getting involved in things she shouldn't, and this time was no different.
“Answer me,” Jungkook urged again, his voice softer now but still serious.
You took a deep breath, your heart racing. “Yes, Jungkook. I did have feelings for you,” you confessed, your voice shaking. “And... I still do.”
Before you could say anything else, Jungkook stepped closer, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was gentle yet charged, filled with all the feelings he hadn’t found the words for. It felt like time stopped, the noise of everyone else fading away until there was just the two of you.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he smiled—a real, open smile that lit up his face. “I like you too, Y/N. I’ve liked you for so long. I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”
Your breath caught, not in surprise this time, but in the overwhelming realization that maybe, just maybe, this was the moment you had been waiting for.
He kissed you again, and it felt deeper and more passionate, your mouths moving together as if they’d always belonged that way. Jungkook pulled back slightly, both of you catching your breath while still holding onto each other, his eyes shining with joy. "I can't believe this is actually happening," he murmured.
You raised an eyebrow, still reeling from everything. "Neither can I. You dragged me out here, kissed me, and now what? Do we just head back to prom like nothing happened?"
As you stood there with Jungkook, still processing everything, a voice crackled over the speakers from inside the venue.
“Attention, everyone! The moment you’ve all been waiting for—the announcement of our prom king and queen!”
You turned to Jungkook, your hand still in his. “We should probably head back.”
Jungkook shook his head, grinning. “As if I’d win prom king. And there’s no way you'd win, unless you consideration of just how breathtaking you are tonight."
You tilted your head, smirking. “What if I do win prom queen? Don’t you want to be there for my big moment?”
You both laughed at the thought. But before you could say anything else, the emcee’s voice rang out.
“And this year’s prom king is… Mr. Jeon Jungkook!”
You both froze. You stared at him in disbelief. “No way.”
Jungkook blinked, confused. “Did they—? Are we hearing the same thing?”
The crowd inside erupted with cheers, and before Jungkook could react, the emcee continued, “And this year’s prom queen is none other than Ms. Y/N L/N!”
Your jaw dropped as you looked at Jungkook, astonished. “Okay, now I know this is a joke. Sana definitely set this up.”
Jungkook grabbed your hand and began leading you back toward the venue. “Well, come on, Your Majesty. Let’s go claim our crowns!”
As you entered the hall, all eyes turned to you, clapping and cheering. Jungkook’s friends were the loudest, practically bouncing with excitement.
You and Jungkook were brought up onto the stage, where the emcee placed crowns on your heads. Jungkook leaned down and whispered, “I guess we’re more popular than we thought.”
You snorted, trying not to laugh in front of everyone.
As the first notes of a slow song filled the air, the emcee gestured to the dance floor. “And now, the prom king and queen’s dance!”
Jungkook extended his hand to you, his grin widening. “Shall we, Your Highness?”
You rolled your eyes playfully but took his hand. “Let’s not trip over our crowns, Your Majesty.”
As you both danced under the sparkling lights, the crowd faded into the background, leaving just the two of you. This wasn’t just any dance—it was a moment that felt timeless, a memory forming in your heart.
You hadn’t even wanted to come tonight, yet here you were, wrapped in Jungkook’s warm embrace, feeling as if everything had led to this unexpected moment. Looking into his eyes, you understood—this wasn’t just the end of the night; it was the start of something even greater.
For the first time, it all made sense. Like two pieces of a puzzle that had been searching for each other, you fit together effortlessly, naturally, as if this was where you always belong to each other.
end.
536 notes · View notes
jenosbliss · 8 days ago
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🍇🎀ᝢ grapes under the table?
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pairing. fem!reader x bsf!jeno | genre. fluff, friends to lovers | wc. 1k | warnings. none
a/n:: happy new year! btw did anyone tried the 12 grapes under the table thing?
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“Why do you even want to try this?” Jeno asked, his tone caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief as he crouched under the small dorm table with you,  holding a bowl of grapes like it was the most absurd task he’d ever been asked to do.
You rolled your eyes, pushing the bowl of grapes into his hands. “It’s not like I’m throwing salt over my shoulder or reading tea leaves. It’s harmless. And who knows? Maybe it’ll work!”
“You don’t even believe in this stuff,” he shot back, holding up a grape and inspecting it like it was an artifact.
“I also don’t believe in horoscopes, but I still check mine every morning,” you countered, leaning back against the table leg. “But after twenty-something years of being single, desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Jeno’s chest tightened at your words. He’d heard this complaint a million times before—your usual dramatic groaning about how unfair the dating scene was, about how no one ever liked you. But tonight, sitting under the table with you, something about it hit differently.
He remembered the evening he’d seen you at that café with some guy from your class. He’d never thought of himself as the jealous type, but watching you lean in with that laugh—the one you reserved for people you really liked—had made his stomach churn. But when the date didn’t turn into anything more, he buried the realization deep. You were his best friend, and losing you wasn’t worth the risk.
And now? The thought of this little superstition actually working, of you finding someone who wasn’t him? That made him want to throw the grapes out the window.
“You stayed back for this?” Jeno asked, his voice dipping into that teasing tone he always used to cover up his feelings. “You never skip parties, and it’s New Year’s Eve.”
“You’ve been skipping a lot of them lately, too,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. His heart stuttered. Yeah, because of you. “I just didn’t feel like going this time,” he lied.
You studied him for a moment before sighing, your gaze dropping to the bowl of grapes in his lap. “I don’t get why everyone makes such a big deal about New Year’s,” you said as if stating the obvious, your tone softer now. “It’s just a change of date. Not like Christmas or Thanksgiving, where there’s something to celebrate.”
Jeno watched you as you spoke, your expression pensive, your voice tinged with that familiar mix of frustration and longing. He’d heard this all before—how you hated being the only one without a date, how everyone seemed to find someone except you. He used to laugh at your complaints, teasing you until you smiled again.
But now? The thought of someone else being that person for you, the one who turned your complaints into laughter and made your eyes light up—it terrified him.
“Fine,” he said eventually, picking up a grape. “Let’s eat these grapes and see if your superstition works. But if you get a boyfriend this year, I’m blaming the table.”
You laughed, handing him a grape. “Deal. Now, eat.”
The two of you began eating, one grape for each month of the year. With every bite, Jeno’s heart beat louder, his thoughts spiralling. What if it actually worked? What if this silly little tradition actually brought someone into your life? What if someone else swept you off your feet and he had to watch from the sidelines?
As you popped the last grape into your mouth, you grinned triumphantly. “Done! If this works, I’m buying grapes by the crate every year.”
Jeno hesitated, his grip tightening on the bowl. His chest felt heavy, like the words he’d been holding in were threatening to spill over. “What if I don’t want it to work?”
You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
He set the bowl aside, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “What if I don’t want you to find someone else? What if… I want to be your boyfriend?”
The words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing against your chest. “Jeno…” You stared at him, your lips parted in shock.
“I mean it,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I stayed back tonight because I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want to watch you love someone else. I want it to be me.”
Your heart raced as the truth in his voice sank in. The boy who’d always been your anchor, your constant, was now baring his heart to you. “You’ve always been my best friend,” you said softly. “I never thought you—”
“That’s the problem,” he interrupted, his tone urgent. “You never thought. But I did. I’ve been thinking about it since the day I saw you on that stupid café date, and it scared the hell out of me. I’ve loved you longer than I even realized, and I’m done pretending I don’t.”
You stared at him, the room suddenly too small, too warm, too charged with everything you hadn’t let yourself feel until this moment. “Jeno,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Ask me again.”
His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “Ask me again,” you repeated, your voice steadier this time.He swallowed hard, his hand reaching for yours. “Can I be your boyfriend?”
A smile broke across your face as you nodded. “Yes. You can.” Relief flooded his expression, and before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned forward, his hand cradling your cheek as his lips met yours.
The kiss was soft, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you melted into him. His touch was warm and steady, his thumb brushing against your skin as if to reassure you this was real.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and grinning, Jeno rested his forehead against yours. “Guess I owe the grapes an apology.” 
You laughed, the sound light and free. “You do.”
For the first time, New Year’s felt like more than just a change of date. It felt like the beginning of something real—something that had been waiting for the right moment all along.
As Jeno held you close under that tiny dorm table, you couldn’t help but think: this was the best start to a year yet. And just like that, New Year’s Eve didn’t feel so pointless anymore.
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unconventional-lawnchair · 4 months ago
Text
Fix it yourself
James Potter x Bsf!Slytherin!Reader - Sirius Black x BrothersBsf!Slytherin!Reader (endgame)
Best Friend by Rex Orange County
Masterlist
Wc- 12011
Summary: Falling in love with James Potter was a whirlwind affair full of lies and heartbreak. Everything comes to a head when he asks you to fake date someone so Lily will give him a chance.
Cw; Cussing, Manipulation, James is such an arse (I love him don't come for me), self indulgent, themes of abuse and abandonment, sexual content and scenes, Jealous James being rude, Protective Sirius, Substance use, Reader had her things destroyed, dad gets sick, nudity, {let me know if I forgot anything!}
Taglist- @otterlockholmes
A/N: Shout out to @our-sweet-t-universe, this would not of been a smidge of happy in this fic if it wasn't for you. Next post will be part two to zombies and then two requests!
An endless cycle of churning.
That was what your dad called it. You and James’s push and pull of affections to hatred.
When you were younger, you could never imagine a life without James Fleamont Potter. He was your favorite person since you could remember names. Your father was an apothecary, business partners turned close friends with Fleamont Potter, or as you called him since you could speak, “Uncle Flea.”
Your father traveled for his work, always researching better ingredients and replacements, selling his remade patents of popular potions back to the creators in exchange to sell their potions and the ingredients. Your father was a clever businessman, a proud Slytherin in his school years. Fleamont would joke, every Potter had their Slytherin. Let that be romantic, as his mother and father, or platonic like him and your father.
James was still ever the dramatic, determined to believe he would never need his Slytherin, he didn't want a Slytherin. He had you, that was all he needed.
Oblivious and fiesty you would agree with anything he said to keep the ever confident boy talking. His voice was your favorite part of James Potter, which worked wonders with your ever quiet disposition.
“I don't need a Slytherin! I have {Y/n}!” James would fuss when the teasing began. “She's cooler then any green robe!”
“Yeah! I'm cooler than any green robe!” You would snap out of whatever day dream you were having as you played with your fathers miniature carvings he would make you in his travels. He always brought you one back, with a moving photo of him in some fantastical place posing with them.
Your father would smile knowingly at Fleamont, as Euphemia called you into the kitchen to help set the table, as was a part of your nightly routine. James pouted after you as he was left alone with the dads.
While your father traveled more, you spent more time with the Potters. Back then, you were always so sad about it, watching the window and waiting longingly for your father to return.
Around your older years, seven to eight, you finally learned to appreciate what they did for you. It's not that you ever showed you were ungrateful, your father had just always been your favorite person. Being away from him felt so much longer than it was.
You spent most of your time running around the large property and making it your own with James. You would carve path marks into trees and divide your territory. You would wage war and swim in the creek.
One summer, Fleamont even helped you build a treehouse. A treehouse you guys never used after that after that, outside of a hiding place for things you most certainly shouldn't have. That, and the ever growing collection of your father’s wood carvings, all on top of a silver padlock box with your father’s photos.
“These are for you and James to play with.”
He always made sure you knew that. Even if James was never particularly fond of them, he loved the stories your father returned with about them. So fond, in fact, that he kept a particular carving of a dragon when your dad told you both about the time he was attacked by one. Painted it and all, the only figurine not in the treehouse, Grandos.
The first time James exited your life was your ninth birthday. You were at the Potters again over the summer, when your aunt suddenly came to pick you up in the middle of a cold rainy night. Suddenly you were awoken from your fort on the couch with James, both of you snuggled under a mountain of blankets. Euphemia continued to come back and tuck you in.
It was quick and the adults seemed panicked. When you made it home you found your father bedridden, with dragonpox.
You spent that entire summer into the fall spending time with him. Your auntie gifted you a muggle toy, a two way radio. She set one up to always be on for your father. You would walk around the house with yours, turning it on to say something to your father just to listen to him cough and wheeze, the only sign he was still breathing.
James would send you letters but you never got to reading them. Just staying home and wandering the house. Your young mind finding paintings your father had hung himself to tell him about, reminding him what it was like in the kitchen, the silliest things to remind your father you were still there.
Everyday. Everynight.
Eventually, your father got better, and he summoned the Potters to Diagon Alley for a bite to eat. It was the first time you had seen James in three months. For two eight year olds, that seemed like forever ago.
James pouted through dinner, then the walk around the park. Every attempt to talk to him was met with loud sniffling and sobs for you to leave him alone. The Potter parents would wince at the interactions, eventually ending up with two blubbering children, both crying because they wanted to be friends again.
“You ignored me!” James shouted, making a scene.
“I was spending time with my da!” You would fuss back, fists clenched and your foot stamping.
“I thought you hated me!” He blubbered back and you began to sob louder. “I-I woke up and you were gone!”
“Why are you crying so hard, Niffler?” Your father would coo, not the least bit bothered by the prying eyes around the public place.
“Because Jamie thinks I hate him!” You shouted out, turning to your father and dragging your fists over your swollen eyes.
“Do you hate little Jamie?” He pushed and James sobbed louder at the question.
“No! I love Jamie!” You sobbed out and James gave a louder wail.
“I love you too!”
“Then forgive me!”
“Okay!”
Like that, you were once again spending every waking moment with the chocolate haired boy. That summer your father was cleared to work, and he never turned down the chance.
You went back to the Potters and spent the time you had with James like you never stopped being friends. Running through the forest, jumping in the creek, and now, James found a passion for listening to you read before bed.
When you both got your Hogwarts letters, you both demanded to be the first to get your wands. So, before August even came, you and James shared the most special moments of your childhood. Getting your wand from Olivander and getting your very own owl from Eeylops.
James ended up with a snowy owl he named Snow. You thought it was the most clever thing in the world, his parents just smiled knowingly at each other. You got a barn owl you named an equally clever name. Barn.
Thinking back on it, they should have never let you leave that store with that poor owl.
You gave James a lot of your favorite memories to cherish. He kept them the second time you stopped talking.
That was, when you both made it to Hogwarts. You walked into the grand hall holding hands, laughing about some stupid joke he made that was certainly not worth a laugh. You loved to feed his ego, his mother would say. You would just agree.
“His ego is never starved.” She would smirk and you would simply shrug with a cheeky grin.
“But it could always eat.”
You left the grand hall in tears and a green robe. He was already far ahead of you, in his own red robes, acting as if those eleven years of friendship were nothing to him. Much to your dismay, you didn't have your father to come save you this time, tell you his wise words and share his bit of wisdom for you to find your way through the pain.
There was no comfort found in the snakes den. Your dorm was shared with girls who seemed to have no other concerns then your blood status. You were a pureblood, of course, but their questions only caused you further distress. That night you cried silently into your pillow.
That night, and the next, and the next.
Eventually, you learned to cope to the cold dungeons. You became calm and emotionless, like the others. Learning to adapt to your surroundings.
James’s mutters of who you really were hurt more then you could ever imagine. You loved James Potter before you knew what love was. You were sure whatever yearning was in your chest went both ways. You guess you were wrong.
He made new friends, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. He wanted nothing to do with you.
So, you made friends as well. Cruel ones but ones who would protect you. Avery, Mulciber. Severus Snape was the only one you stayed consistently close to. You disliked Lily Evans, for no reason other than the fact she was everything you wanted to be. Gryffindor, smart, pretty, and had James’s attention. You hated watching him outgrow you, and Severus didn't particularly like that you didn't like Lily, but he hated James Potter so you both remained in an isolated boat of similarity.
As the year went on you grew to hate your colors more then anything. You learned that no matter what had happened, Slytherin was at fault. No matter your justification, you were wrong. Keeping your head down and remaining quiet was the safest you'd have it.
When the year came to an end, you went home. You told your father of the more recent events and he was mortified. You found solas in his arms as you always did. Being home was like a time out, protection from everything else around you. You were alone and happy. Safe and as far away from James Potter as possible.
But that made the yearning worse.
Your father tried to convince you to write him a letter for closure, but you could never pick up a quill. You don't want to know the vile things he thought of you.
Much to your surprise, however, your father called you down a week into your summer break. At the door, none other then James Potter. He was sniffling, clenching the dragon statue in his hands and rubbing his eyes. Your father left you two be, and you welcomed him in.
Of course you did.
It was your Jamie.
The second he entered he told you about how woes, how his concerns for Sirius, his dear friend, his best friend, made him appreciate what he had a bit more. It also forced him to realize, he was doing the same to you. The isolation over a house was never fair. He felt like a right arse.
“So you don't hate me?” You sniffled.
James shook his head vigorously. “No, no, I'm sorry, {Y/N}.” He sobbed and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
He held you back tight, and nuzzled his nose into your cheek. “Forgive me?”
“Okay.” Your voice cracked.
You shouldn't have forgiven him, because it became a pattern. The summer you were back to as thick as thieves, you had never seen Mrs. Potter more relived then when you returned to their home.
But when school started again, he went back to practically no contact. It was your James, though. You needed him.
Over the years you went from best friends over the summer to semi strangers in the halls. Everytime he'd come to your door with a bright smile and take you to his house. Even your fathers relationship with Fleamont began to grew strained because of the behavior. You were so hurt, all the time, but James would fix it.
James would know what to say and when to say it. James, never having a malicious bone in his body, didn't seem to understand what he was doing to you. You didn't know either.
By the time year three rolled around, the four of them seemed to tamper down their hatred for Slytherins, focusing purely on the ones they deemed evil. Even letting you into their groups on occasion. You clung to what little James would give you everytime. You ignored your jealousy of Sirius and James' closeness. You ignored Remus’s pitiful looks and Peter's tactless comments.
However, you had began to grow into yourself a bit more over the school year. You had more time to yourself, more time away from James. You met a few new people, one being a girl named Pandora.
She observed you every time you were with James, would utter small comments here and there about what she found in the blandest monotone. It was tough love she didn't even intend. You quickly realized that the friendship you shared with James went from two friends who would rather die then be apart, to two people.
You were just people.
~~~~
That summer, when James came over to retrieve you, you made that clear.
“Well, it was nice seeing you, Potter.” You started with a soft smile in your doorway. He flinched at the formal name.
“What? You're not coming home?” He asked in a low heartbroken whisper. “My mum wants to see you.”
“I am home. I'll ask da if he plans to have you over for dinner.” You placate and look back to the proud but sympathetic look on your dads face from where he hid behind the door. As always, right there. “I'll see you later?”
“But- I- we don't get to hang out over the school year, I just figured-”
“Thank you again for the invite. Maybe some other time.”
When fourth year comes around you and James remain friendly in the halls. It was like the entire lives you had led before Hogwarts and over the summers were just secrets between the two of you now.
You spent more time with Severus, Dorcas, Pandora, Barty, and Regulus. That made Sirius oddly formal and kind to you as well, you expected the opposite.
It led to a small bit of bonding between the two of you, he would ask you about updates on Regulus and thank you like mad for you looking after the younger boy.
James didn't like how close you two were becoming outside of him. Everyday, you would meet Sirius outside of the library and he would walk you to the dungeons while you talked about his brother and the state of his mind, how he viewed what was happening in the household.
Your conversations would slowly trickle into your day to day life and Sirius would tell you of his. James noticed when Sirius began to get to the dorms later and later.
James would find it in himself to pester, if he wasn't so wrapped around Lily Evans’ finger. You knew it was unfair. You knew from the stories from Pandora, that if you just got to know her, you'd adore her. She was funny, brilliant, brave, kind, and she was enough woman to have James Potter, Severus Snape, and after a small listless confession, Pandora of all people in love.
You hated her, however. You couldn't bring yourself to like someone you wanted to be in the shoes of so badly.
~~~~
Over the summer, you learned Sirius Black had gone to live with the Potters after a particularly rough patch with his parents. With a quick letter to Regulus to gauge his view on the situation, you decided to check on eldest Black. You weren't insanely close with James anymore, but you still invited yourself over.
When the door opened after your knock you were yanked into a bone crushing hug by Fleamont, followed by Euphemia. They welcomed you in with open arms, like they always did. You greeted James with nothing more than a kind smile and walked right past him to go check on Sirius.
James stood in the middle of the hall, confused by your lack of enthusiasm to see him. Knowing the second you made it to the stairs, you were not here for him. A bitter feeling filled his chest.
You didn't know you were breaking the dumb boy's heart. He didn't know it either, but the look his mother gave him when you hurried up the steps said it all.
James had missed you. He had missed you more than life itself. He spent his summers moping in the treehouse you both never went in, fiddling with the things you never should have had. He felt like he was missing a part of himself every time you learned to put your self preservation above his desperate need for you.
But things don't work out perfectly, something the ever spoiled James Potter didn't understand.
He snapped out of his little daze and ran upstairs after you.
You were sitting on the bed in the spare room, hip to hip with the pouty and tired Sirius. He seemed to be rambling on some flirty nonsense that had James growing a bit red.
“You know bird,” Sirius started and you scoffed.
“Don't call me bird.” You reprimanded and he gave you a cheeky smile, his swollen eye just adding to his sloppy charm.
“Birdette?” He offered.
“I'm going home. May your tea be too hot to drink and too cold when you return to it.” You mused and moved to stand before Black grabbed your wrist and nudged you down.
“Cruel witch!” He shouted and you put your hand on his chest, both laughing like fools. James' expression turned tart. You used to laugh with him like that. When you both settled you brush some hair from his face to behind his ear. His lochs clung to his face through the sweat.
“Are you sure you're alright?” You hummed and he nodded, pressing his burning and trembling temple to your cold hand and you thinned your lips.
“Fever has gone down. Mum will be pleased.” You hummed and Sirius gave you a confused look before it clicked to him who you were talking about. You knew her since before you could walk, of course you would consider her your mother. He spotted James in the doorway and noticed the small smile on the teens face when you spoke familiar of his mother.
Sirius knew, how couldn't he? Since year one the only person James seemed to talk about was you. Even when he was pretending to hate you, it was always about you. He could see the way you looked at James too, it was so painfully obvious. Even after all the years of borderline manipulation, something Sirius would grow bitter of if he thought too long about it.
“I should head home.” You hummed and grabbed the discarded rag on the nightstand to clean off some sweat around Sirius’s cheek and neck, doting on your friend much like you did for James.
“No!”
“No, please!”
Both boys shouted together. You jumped and turned to face James, not noticing he had been watching the entire interaction.
You bit your cheek and fiddled with the rag for a moment before you sighed. It was hard enough to say no to James, but a sick Sirius?
You caved.
You spent the summer at the Potter’s again, something your father was cautious of. You were older now, and so was James, you just managed to escape the ‘safe sex’ talk when you went back with James to gather spare clothes, the only thing left at James was from before puberty.
It made you a bit aware that James had grown up. He had always been taller than you, but now he was broader, more defined. Merlin, the boy you grew up with was knee weakening.
The summer was amazing. It was a delight, being around both of them so casually.
Being older now, your fun consisted of much more mature activities. They started innocent, like taking walks around the property where you and James reminisced, sharing your favorite memories of the place with Sirius. Your afternoons baking with Euphemia now shared with the boys who didn't seem to have anything better to waste their time on. Even swimming in the creek like kids.
But you were older now. Afternoon swimming turned into late night skinny dipping. Walks along the trail turned into hiding away in your tree fort, hardly big enough for all three of you and the things you hid away. Smoking Mallowsweet and trying to pretend you weren't high at the dinner table. Not that either parent seemed to mind, just happy you were doing it in a safe environment. They let you three believe you were sneaky however, knowing the thrill is the fun part.
A few days out from going back to school you and the two boys were sitting in the fort again. You took a drag from the messy blunt and passed it to Sirius. You took notice of how he watched the smoke leave your lips. You sent him a playful wink and he wet his lips.
You both turned back to James as he let out a low groan. The attention whore he was not liking how you two continued to share moments he was not apart of.
“What is it, Jamie?” You pushed and he ran his fingers through his hair. “I got word from Evans. Said she would stop reading my letters. Says she thinks I'm in love with someone already.” He huffed.
You rolled your eyes and looked at Sirius who put his hands up to show he would handle it. “Come on mate, she clearly doesn't want ya’ move on.”
You almost face palmed at how Sirius tried to handle it. You cut in when James gave a louder groan. “I know it's not what you want to hear, but some girls just.. aren't going to cave the more you bother them, Jamie.”
“I just don't get it! I'm charming, I'm funny, I'm bloody hot.”
You rolled your eyes hard and made eye contact with a smirking Sirius. “You know he gets this from you, right?”
He chuckled and you slowly smiled at his look. James seemed to grow even more upset when your attention was on Sirius and not him.
“Come off it, mate.” Sirius laughed. “She hasn’t even seen you date one person at that school.”
“That is true. I don't think I would date someone if I didn't have an idea of what it was like.” You remarked airily, rapping your knuckles against your chin.
“So.. date someone to show Lily I'm dateable?” James concluded and you rubbed your temple.
“Or, and just throwing this out there, date someone who wants you?” You scoffed and James rolled his eyes with a mutter. Something along the lines of no one he wants, wants him.
You paused your rubbing before Sirius quickly cleared his throat. “You can't just date someone to impress someone else.” You cut in. “That's incredibly cruel.”
“Well-”
“Sirius, as someone who has not once had a serious girlfriend-”
“I am Sirius. All my girlfriends are Sirius girlfriends-”
You threw a book at him and he blocked it with his forearms, laughing as you huffed.
“But ser- genuinely.” You mused. “Don't go breaking anyone's heart to get her attention.”
“Well, it won't hurt anyone if I.. fake date someone?” He offered and you gave him a confused look. He slowly smiled, a smile that surely meant a bad idea.
“Jamie-”
“Hear me out! Hear me out!” He mused and sat up straighter. “One of you, date me, just for a few months! I can show her how good of a boyfriend I really am!”
You looked at Sirius with the most bewildered and offended look.
“I will not.” Sirius mused and finally put the blunt down. “Love you, but I would rather lick my own boot.”
James scoffed and looked at you hopefully. You bit your lip and thought about it for a moment, you were caving, you knew you were.
How bad could it be? Getting a slice of what you wanted more than anything. James’s full attention. Before you could answer, you heard Sirius mutter your name.
It was so soft, it was so gentle, like if he said it too loud you'd run. You looked over to him, and he gave you a look you couldn't quite decipher. Though, the implication was clear. Don’t.
You sighed through your nose and leaned your head back. Trying to sober yourself up before you continue this conversation. James wiggled his way over to you, putting his arm over your shoulder. “Come on, {Y/N}.” He whined and you thinned your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes. You could melt into them.
Your eyes, not of your own accord, flicked to Sirius and he was still staring at you. Then you realized what the look was, caution. You bit your bottom lip and didn't notice James glaring heavily at Sirius. As if warning him. Sirius's eyes never left yours.
“... Sorry Jamie.” You muttered and he huffed, pulling away from you sharply. You pouted and slowly hugged your knees. Far more valuable with your mind warped by the drugs influence.
James waved his hand dismissively and you looked down at your feet. You watched as a pair of Doc Martens slipped into view on either side of your ankles. You looked up at the owners. You had never seen such a proud look on Sirius’s face. Well, safe for when you told him of Regulus’s new found defiance. He held the smuggest smile and you felt your heart throb. Approval.
“I don't get it, come on {Y/N}-”
“Who does she think you love anyway, James?” Sirius huffed, taking your friend’s attention from you. You sent him an appreciative look.
“She thinks I'm in love with {Y/N}.” He scoffed and your breath hitched a bit. “I mean, it doesn't help that we haven't dated anyone. I figured that if me and {Y/N} dated and broke up she would see how crazy she is.”
You purse your lips at that. Yeah. Crazy. Why would James Potter ever love you?
“Oh!” James exclaimed and sat up, “What if you got a boyfriend?” James pried and you arched an eyebrow at him. “Or, you know, girlfriend.”
You scoffed. As if that was the issue!
“James, I am not going to date someone just to leave them so you can get with Lily.” You crossed your arms over yourself now, and James groaned. “Come on, please? I mean, you can tell them it's fake! I mean, I'm sure even Sirius would be willing-”
“Nope.” Sirius popped his lips and you looked up at him with a startled surprise. You couldn't help but melt at how he winked at you, nudging your ankles with his feet. “I'm not going to tarnish our little dragon’s reputation, here.”
You rolled your eyes playfully as James’s groans faded out. You looked up as a bell began to ring, signaling it was time to come inside for dinner. James got up and hurried out of the tree, Sirius was next, sending you a look as he climbed down, curious. You simply smiled at him and followed after, knowing it would reassure him.
You thought James had dropped it, but as you set the table and gathered drinks for everyone, the boys at the table began to idly talk.
“Anything interesting happened today?” Fleamont asked you as you set his coffee down by his hand, kissing his eyebrow, making him chuckle.
“No, Uncle Flea.” You hummed and set down Euphemia’s tea and did the same. She returned the kiss, leaving you unaware of how James seemed to be eyeing you. You set down Sirius’s drink and he poked his cheek, leaning closer to you. You kissed your hand and smacked him. He laughed and you finished up, taking your seat across from the boys on your own side of the table.
“How about you, son?” Flea asked Sirius next, and Black shrugged. “Nothing really.”
“Really? You're not going to tell him?” James smirked and you looked at him curiously, confused. Sirius shared your look and James continued. “I mean, If you won't, I will.” He cheeked.
“James what are you-” Before you could even finish, he threw his hands up in an exaggerated announcement.
“Sirius and {Y/N} are dating!”
Your jaw went slack in shock and Sirius snapped his head over, dumbstruck.
“I- what- James Potter!” You shouted at him, he smirked at you. This cheeky little bastard. There was a loud thud from under the table as you kicked him. Hard. The poor boy winced and tried to keep his face straight.
“James you bloody-” Sirius started with a clench jaw before Euphemia gave a laugh.
“No need to be shy you two, however, James you shouldn't have told us before they were ready.” She scolded and Fleamont gave a chuckle and clapped Sirius on his shoulder.
“Just be safe, boy. Mr. {L/N} and I are not ready to be grandpas.” He cheeked and you slowly sunk into your seat and covered your face, groaning low as Sirius began to stammer over himself, not sure if he should explain himself or not.
James was so dead.
~~~
You paced in your room, hands over your mouth in deep thought. James was cleaning the kitchen and Sirius was closing down the house, their respective chores of the night. You sat on your bed and tried to figure a way out of this, before someone knocked on your door.
You looked up and waved your wand to open the door, Sirius walking in holding James by his ear. The taller boy was cursing and following close behind. “Ow ow ow ow-”
“James Fleamont Potter!” You whisper hissed and stood up, Sirius smirking, for once, not the one in trouble.
“Hear me out-”
“No! We will do no such thing!” You continued to whisper-shout at him. “You need to tell them you were lying!”
James bit his cheek and looked at Sirius who was avoiding his eyes. “It's just a few months-”
“James-”
“Hear me out! Just, just three months! You saw how excited they got.” James pleaded and you sighed. Covering your face before you peaked between your fingers at Sirius who gave you a playfully scandalized look.
“Am I the only one with common sense here?” Sirius scoffed and you groaned.
“It would seem so. Frightening, innit?”
“Debilitating, actually.” He sighed playfully and you laughed.
There was a long pause between you and Sirius. James watched as you two seemed to be communicating between your eyes. James slowly pouted as he was, once again, left out of the loop.
“Fine.” You sighed and Sirius bit his lip. “Alright, three months.”
~~~
You were not ready for the whirlwind that was sixth year. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time.
You had forgotten about the ever growing issue of telling Regulus Black of your new found status with his brother. To your complete shock, he seemed happy about the news.
“Bloody finally.”
“The hell do you mean finally?”
“If I had to go one more school year watching my brother make eyes at you, I'd vomit. Just keep it behind closed doors please.”
Eyes? Your friends were going mad. Pandora seemed to actually express visual joy when you told her, smiling with a hand over her heart, with a simple. “That's lovely.”
Barty, Sirius’s self proclaimed nemesis, even seemed relieved. Though, he had to admit, he didn't figure you for someone who wanted to be with a player.
The only one who seemed to take the news hard was Severus, reminding you of the prank and how that bastard tried to kill him. You listened to his concerns, but in truth, you knew Sirius wasn't the only one at fault. You had, in fifth year, confronted Sirius about what had happened and he admitted his fault in it.
You knew it wasn't for you to forgive, but if you couldn't forgive him, what place did you have being crossed about it?
Eventually, Severus, Avery, and Mulicber wanted nothing to do with you. As Severus hurt, you had to admit, he was camaraderie found in misery. You refused to be miserable anymore.
Remus was the first to notice it, how much you had grown and who you had left behind. He also seemed to be you and Sirius’s biggest fan, and unexplainably protective of your relationship.
Before you knew it, you were sitting at the Gryffindor table every day, nuzzled under Sirius’s arm and watching him as he rattled on about Quidditch practice and the start of the season. You didn't really care about the game, you only used to watch to support Regulus as a seeker, which seemed to please James as well.
“Do you have a spare jersey?” You pressed your pinky to his side gently, muttering into his shoulder. Sirius looked down at you, a bit startled by your comment. He narrowed his eyes at you curiously and you pressed your tongue to your cheek. Watching as his expression shifted a bit and his cheeks turned a soft red.
“A jersey?” He pushed, trying not to get his hopes up. You gave a laugh at his nervous question.
“All I have are Slytherin colors.” You mused and slipped your arm around his back and nuzzled into his chest a bit. Regulus giving a playful gag, poking his finger to the back of his throat at your public displays of affections.
You giggled before James spoke up, he had been so quiet you didn't even notice him. “You can wear mine, I have an old Seeker one from before I was captain.” He hummed and Sirius stiffened against you a bit. You watched his jaw clench, and his attention was finally torn from you, playfully glaring at James.
“James-”
“Thanks Jamie.” You mused and Sirius snapped his attention back to you, just for you to be smiling up at him. “But I want to wear my boyfriend's name.”
Sirius swore he lost the air in his lungs. Remus whistled and you laughed at the out of character display.
“You're so fucking whipped-” Regulus huffed with a roll of his eyes and before you could turn to reprimand him, Sirius wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you practically on his lap. “Better be, just f’me.” He mumbled against your ear. No one else could hear him, you wondered why he even said it.
Regardless, you didn't think your heart could beat that fast for anyone but James.
~~~
Three months passed faster then you thought it possibly could. The cautious and careful moments between you and Sirius turned familiar and confident. From your new routine between classes to show everyone just how in love you surely were to the private moments you weren't positive you should be having with the best friend of the boy you loved.
Reality was slowly blending together with your facade, from him sneaking off with you to the astronomy tower, and your walks along the Black lake when no one could see you two.
Even now, where you laid in his bed, alone. Remus doing his Prefect duties and James’ surely wowing Lily. You were sitting with your back against the headboard, reading to Sirius as he hummed and dozed off. You propped the book against his arm that wrapped around your middle, your other hand tangled in his hair. He seemed to be in just a blissful state, absolutely unraveled as your nails ran over his scalp.
You trailed off, just admiring the sleepy boy. Slowly leaning closer to see if he had fallen asleep yet.
You were spending time with the boys in their common room. Sirius had complained about his horrid sleep schedule, and when you, ever the good girlfriend, suggested you read to him. He laughed at first. When you puffed up your cheeks and told him it always worked for James, suddenly his tune changed.
He practically dragged you up to their shared dorm and left Peter and James behind, snuggling up to you, like he said a proper boyfriend would. Your heart was going mad at first. You hadn't been in their dorm, let alone in Sirius’s bed before. He acted so natural about it, you tried to stifle the green monster that seemed to have switched targets from Lily to Sirius’s past flings.
You don't know when it changed, but looking down at Sirius’s peaceful face, how he seemed so comfortable with you in his arms and pressed against your body, you knew you had ruined your chances at a normal love life. Falling in love with Sirius Black was the worst idea you never had.
Suddenly, Sirius stirred, eyes opening, sagged and low, clearly still tired. Your eyes locked, and this warm feeling filled you as he slowly smiled at you. You didn't even feel nervous, just.. just peaceful.
“Is the book done?” He muttered and you slowly nodded. His eyes never leaving yours. There was a bit of quiet before he began to speak. “Dragon-”
Then the door slammed open. “Don't be naked!” James huffed, covering his eyes. You have a nervous laugh as your cheeks flushed, looking away. Sirius gave a low and annoyed groan. It was gravely and deep as he sat up. You did not need that stuck in your head right now.
“Damn it mate, I'm trying to sleep.” Sirius huffed and James seemed startled at your state. You were actually reading to him. When he heard ‘sleep’ his mind wandered to Sirius’s typical use for it. The idea of you sleeping with Sirius didn't get under his skin, but the idea of loosing a piece of you that was once his, did.
Instead, he walked in on you and him. Doing one of his favorite things. One of you and his favorite things. You were really reading to him. He slowly frowned as your fingers left Sirius’s hair. You pouted up at him, not even seeming to care James was there, just upset that your weighted blanket moved.
He didn't like that. Not at all.
Sirius shifted and his palm pressed down a bit too much weight on your thigh and you hiss. He quickly got off of you and muttered an apology.
“It's okay Siri.” You whispered and rubbed your skin. He took a deep breath. That bloody nickname.
“You know.” James cut in and you and Sirius looked over at him. “It's been three months.”
He gestured to the two of you and you looked back up at Sirius with nervous eyes. He seemed to try to study yours as well.
“I think that's long enough.” He challenged.
You slowly took a breath, Sirius seemed to be waiting on your word. “Well.. are you with Lily yet?” You questioned, looking over at the tan skinned boy and James gave you a scandalous look.
“I mean-”
“That was the deal, right?” Sirius asked and looked back at James, getting comfortable over you once more, nuzzling his head right against your stomach. You smiled down at him, not noticing the looks him and James shared. Not particularly friendly.
“You asked us, James.”
“I wouldn't say what he did was asking.” You mumbled and Sirius chuckled, looking back up at you and gesturing to the book. You glanced at a red faced James before carefully grabbing the book and opening it. You didn't care to watch James' betrayed expression. He had done this to himself.
~~~
“It's going to be so fun, Sirius!” Peter declared and James laughed, “Yeah, what's more important then charming the stairs to move when a Slytherin tries to talk on it?”
Remus smirked at Sirius who simply gave a fond smile and a sigh. “Sorry, I have business with my lovely dragon.”
Remus gave Sirius a proud smile and the tatted boy rubbed the back of his neck.
“What, are you two shagging?” Peter asked with a bored look and Remus smacked him.
“Thank you Moony, and no, I'll have you know. We haven't even kissed yet.” He huffed and James’s jaw went slack. Why would Sirius admit that?
Why in the bloody hell would I admit that? Sirius thought, mortified. He keeps forgetting this isn't a true relationship. It's been five months, Sirius wasn't known to wait longer than a week.
Peter was rubbing the back of his head with a huff and Remus gave Sirius a surprised look. Sirius looked anywhere but their faces.
“You two.. haven't kissed?” Remus pushed and Sirius shrugged. “Just.. I'm her first boyfriend, she is nervous. You know, all that stuff. She's sensitive.”
When he looked at the group he got a variety of different looks. Peter was shocked, James was confused, and Remus looked purely ecstatic.
“Seems Sirius found someone worth waiting for, hm?” Remus teased and Sirius flipped him off.
“I'm done talking to you lame-os anyway. She's waiting for me in the library.” He huffed and hurried off the opposite side of the hall, face red and absolutely humiliated. Even then, he couldn't think of anything but seeing you.
In the background, he could hear James shout. “To study!?”
~~~
You waited for Sirius in the library like you promised, thumbing threw a few of your school books and comparing you and Sirius’s grade cards. Since him and you began the charade, his grades had improved greatly. He seemed to start to care about studying. He, ever the flirt, would always say if he got to spend time with you, spending the day studying in the library wasn't entirely awful.
When Sirius showed up, you couldn't help how the most excited smile grew on your lips. You and Sirius were quietly enjoying each other's presence, but about an hour into your session you heard a voice call out to you. It was soft, soothing, and it sounded like honey.
“Can we join you?”
You looked up confused, staring into the green eyes of Lily Evans. You expected that familiar bitter twist of your chest to settle, but you didn't feel a negative emotion towards her. You looked beside her and there stood Mary Macdonald, Marlene Mckibbon, and Dorcus Meadows. You smiled at Dorcas and she nodded to you.
“Of course you can.” You gestured to the table, turning to Sirius for approval and he looked surprise by your answer. You smiled at him and shrugged, leaning a bit closer and whispered, “It'll help, yeah?”
“Help?” He mumbled back and you smirked against his cheek. Giving him a small kiss against it. “For Jamie, Siri.”
You pulled away and smiled at Lily as she turned to talk to you. Sirius was staring at you like you stole his voice, but he didn't want it back.
Pandora was right, when you got to know Lily, you did like her. Quite a lot.
By the end of the day, you and Lily were laughing with your arms linked, leaving the Library.
“Merlin, we should have talked ages ago!” She smiled bright at you and you laughed, nodding in agreement.
“Most definitely, when do you usually study?” You pushed and Dorcas muttered a goodbye, turning to leave without you and the redhead. Mary smirked at the scene and Marlene wrapped her arms around your neck.
“We are here too!” She complained and you laughed louder. You liked Marlene, but it seemed the bitter feeling that was once aimed at Lily was now on her. You really wish Pandora didn't tell you about her and Sirius having the longest standing relationship out of all of his past wix.
She was with Mary now, she didn't have any interest in Sirius. Merlin, please save you. Jealousy was your biggest weakness. Other then that, blending in with the girls was easy. They were so delightful.
Eventually, Sirius managed to pry you away from the three, leaving you reaching back for them and earning laughs from the girls. Sirius eventually lifted you up on his shoulder so you'd stop fighting him.
That distracted you.
Damn his beater toned arms.
You looked back at him from where he was holding you, making it to the stairs to the dungeons. You flinched a bit when you heard Dorcas curse. You looked back and saw her, stuck in the middle of the stairs, trying to walk down as the stairs moved against her downward steps up.
You gawked at it and nudged Sirius’s shoulder. “Someone is after you boy’s title.” You teased and Sirius shook his head.
“It was the boys.” He remarked and hoisted you up properly, watching as Dorcas managed to fight her way to the bottom. Holding her knees with an aggregated pant. You laughed and tried not to get too in your head about what he said and the conclusion you came to. He spent the day with you instead of pranking with the boys.
“How will we get down?” You asked and he smirked. “It just works with Slytherins.” He cheeked and suddenly began hurrying down the stairs. You yelped and clung to his back. He laughed and fixed his grip on your thighs to keep you over his shoulder. You huffed as you got to the bottom, only for Dorcas to tutt at you.
“You're huffing!?”
You laughed and he set you down. Dorcas waved you off and you tried to cover your smiling face.
You watched Dorcas enter the dorms, you followed after her before you paused and turned to face Sirius, who was watching you with his hands in his pockets. Trying not to seem winded.
“Hey, Siri.” You called him over and he tilted his head. Walking over to you, you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down a bit.
His hands snaked around your hips and he went to hold his breath. You smiled at him and he seemed startled and waiting not so patiently for your next move. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, and your eyes were locked in his lips. This was okay right? This is what partners do?
“Sirius, can I-”
Before you could even properly ask, Regulus rudely interrupted.
“Alright you, stop sucking my brother's face.” Regulus’s voice rang from behind you and you refused to budge. Sirius smirked and moved in, before Regulus yanked you back by your hood. The door closing behind you. He could faintly hear your sounds of disapproval.
Sirius stared at the door for far longer than he should have. Thinning his lips as he tried to remind himself. This was fake. And you loved James.
~~~
Eight months. Late April, and you were sitting in the Gryffindor stands watching the final game of the year. Well, if you could call trying to locate colors on the foggy backdrop with blistering rain watching.
You sat with Lily, Mary, Remus and Peter. It was foggy, drizzling, and the match lasted hours. You were wrapped up in one of Sirius’s leather jackets, it didn't do much to cut through the chill.
You didn't want to lie and say you understood what was happening, just that James and Regulus had yet to catch the snitch. Occasionally, the stands would cheer and you would throw your hands up in support of it all. Watching as Lily laughed at you.
“Sweetness, you look lost.” Lily sang to you, and you bite your bottom lip. “That obvious?”
“Only to everyone.” She laughed and put her hand on your arm, pulling you up. You both walked over to the railing and she put her hand above her brow and looked around. You looked at her movements, before copying her body language.
“There!” She cheeked and pointed out a billowing red cape, hardly making out James' name. You smiled and leaned closer. “Is that Jamie?”
“It … is.” Lily muttered softly and looked at you from the corner of her eye, as if looking for any sign of affection for the boy. Beyond platonic. To her pleasant surprise, your next words made her smile.
“Do you see Siri?” You asked, leaning closer so she could hear you above the cheering fans and the loud beating rain.
Lily lit up, laughing, gesturing over towards one of the goals. You narrowed your eyes and began to hit your heel against the wooden floor. The smile that unfolded onto your cheeks was far brighter then she'd ever seen you look at James.
Lily saw it, the shift in your eyes.
She wasn't the first one to see it, but she wouldn't be the last.
“Oh! Oh! They found it!” Lily exclaimed and you snapped your attention over to where Lily pointed. You looked down and your eyes widened, watching as James and Regulus raced for the snitch.
“Regulus!” You screamed.
“James!” Lily cheered.
Your eyes snapped to each other and you both began to laugh. You loved James, but come on, Slytherin could use this.
You both looked back and began to cheer and chant their names. Lily screamed out in delight as James caught the snitch, and you leaned over the railing with an exaggerated, “Booo!!” James noticed and you quickly covered your mouth.
Remus bellowed a laugh at James’s offended but playful look.
“Gryffindor wins!! I think.” The announcer screamed over the intercom. You laughed and turned to look at Lily who was already running down the stairs.
You scrambled with a bit of a slip as you hurried after her to the pitch. The red head was far faster than you, however. Remus just strolled back with Mary, who was rambling about how cool her girlfriend looked. You just missed her talking about how tone her girlfriends arms were-
It's the beaters charm, really.
When you made it to the pitch you watched James land, Lily practically tackling him off his broom. The boy wrapped his arms around her and spun her around. The team cheering and screaming in delight, the stands going mad with confetti. He looked up to you and let go of Lily, turning to face you as he brandished the snitch.
You lit up to match his smile, but before you could make it over to congratulate him, you saw Sirius land threw the crowd. You felt your entire body grow gittery, from your tightening toes to your squaring shoulders. He tossed the bat to the ground and ruffled his wet hair. He looked breathtaking. You watched as he threw his arm around Marlene, the two laughing and flexing a bit at each other. You narrowed your eyebrows a bit.
That was enough for you to take a few large steps forward. “Sirius!” You called over.
First things first, you were not jealous. You certainly weren't jealous, not of Marlene, she loved Mary. But you would be happy if he wasn't touching her- or if she just took two huge steps back. You wouldn't be upset about that.
Sirius looked over to you and his smile grew brighter, letting go of Marlene. Good. He began hurrying over to meet you. Eventually, you broke into a jog and he matched your pace. James watched in confusion as you threw yourself into his arms as your excitement grew. You laugh as he lifts you up and spun you around. You looked down at him with a bright smile, blocking out the rain from falling on his chiseled face. Your hands moved to his cheeks and he opened his eyes slowly. He paused in the center of the court and you bite your bottom lip. He wanted terribly to pull it between his own teeth.
“You won.” You whispered and his hands slipped higher up your sides. The intimate moment so public his hands felt like fire on your cold wet skin.
“I did.” He whispered and you leaned your body against his. He kept you up easily despite his throbbing muscles. You leaned your lips right above his, eyes locked in a trance. “Do I.. do I get a reward?” He whispered and glanced down at your lips.
You laughed, leaning down and completed the kiss. Holding him firm against yourself, he met you with pure hunger. Slowly setting you down, without breaking the kiss. You moved closer against him, your bodies meeting without an inch between your limbs.
This is okay, right? You thought blissfully. This was for James.
You both were lost to the world. Ignoring anyone else as Sirius began to grab at you with so much intensity you gasped. He took the opportunity to introduce your tongues.
You didn't notice as James gave a pained expression. He wasn't sure why you going to Sirius bothered him so much.
No, he knew why. He felt like he was losing you. Like everything that made James special to you was being replaced with Sirius. It was his own bloody fault.
Lily noticed his wandering eyes and her lip twitched. Resolving herself to take his cheeks and turn him to look at her. He slowly smiled and leaned down to take a kiss. She met him with a happy hum.
The moment went from bitter jealousy to melting joy. This was your favorite game yet.
“Am I just chopped liver!?” Regulus finally exclaimed, the only thing pulling your attention from your lip lock. You threw your head back with a laugh, and Sirius just stared with a love sick smile, kiss bruised lips, and in absolute joy.
~~~
By the time summer came around you were around the Potters more and more.
You stopped spending the night so much, the older you got the more Euphemia seemed to believe you and Sirius were being closer then close most nights. Making teasing remarks that killed you. Eventually, you stopped coming over when Sirius joined in on the teasing.
Your father and you were invited over tonight, however. You didn't want to introduce your father to Sirius, the man had a bigger heart then most, and you knew it would hurt him to meet your ‘first love’ just to lose him months later. You didn't think this would last so long.
So when the door opened and Flea welcomed you in, you were shocked to see Sirius on the couch, hair combed, clothing presentable, even hiding some of his newer tattoos he got over your time in muggle London. He smiled over at you and your father, standing up and walking over.
You were stunned by just how charming he was trying to be. Your father looked surprised, looking to you in confusion, as if he had expected someone else tonight.
“Sirius Black then? I know of your family.” He remarked and Sirius faltered a bit. You walked over to link your arm with his. He looked to you and smiled soft, hesitantly. Your father seemed completely pleased.
As the night went on you guys moved to the parlor room. You were ecstatic to learn Lily was coming as well, and when she got there, the night turned much more lively.
You were laying your legs across Sirius lap and laughing at your father and Flea’s ever heated debate about his most recent business decisions. Lily was listening intently, happy to learn more about the inner workings of the wizarding world. James was sitting on the floor with his head in her lap and her fingers tangled in his locks.
Sirius put a hand on your chin and turned you over to look into his eyes. You gave him a smile and nudged his arm with your knee. You leaned your chin greedily into his hand, wanting the full contact of his palm. When he gave it to you, you leaned your cheek into it. He stared at you and you pressed your lips together. “Sirius?”
“Yeah?” He whispered.
“What's this?” You whispered and slowly wrapped your hand around his wrist and turned to kiss his hand. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes. He about died.
“Awe, young love.” Euphemia cooed and you were startled back to the moment, pulling from Sirius who quickly fixed himself to look at the three parents, James effectively out of the conversation without a care.
Lily laughed and Flea reached over to pat Sirius’s shoulder. “What did I always say, {Y/N}?”
“Hm? What's that Flea?” You hummed and looked back at the men and Euphemia, he chuckled.
“Every Potter has a Slytherin.” He cheeked and winked at Sirius whose face turned to one of pure shock. You lit up at him and back to Sirius, who was smiling like a fool. You mirror his look and then Mrs. Potter spoke up next.
“I'm so glad you two figured it out.” She hummed..
“What was that?” You mumbled and looked back at her in pure confusion.
“Oh, that boy has been making heart eyes at you since he first got here. I could tell he was smitten.” Mrs. Potter mused a matter of factly, looking over at Sirius just past your confused expression, who was making a lip zipping motion, she gave him an amused and curious look, which made you turn and smirk at him. He quickly tried to play it off, earning a laugh from the group.
James rolled his eyes at their interaction, and Lily pouted a bit. Still confused as to why he seemed so determined to dislike the two together.
“You know, it's been a few months since me and Lily got together.” He remarked to the room, eyes on you and Sirius. You frowned a bit and looked away, Sirius met his look with a challenging one of his own. Euphemia narrowed her eyes but the men seemed none the wiser.
“And how lovely Lily is.” Fleamont mused and gestured to her, she smiled at him, happy with how they seemed to accept her so easily.
The night went smoothly from there.
Eventually, it was time to head home. The Potters, Evans, and Black walked you both to the door. You said your goodbyes, but whenever you would glance at Sirius he seemed preoccupied with your lips.
It wasn't something you thought you'd ever find attractive, how desperately Sirius wanted to kiss you at any given moment. Here you were, however, absolutely melting.
You leaned up on your toes and gave him a quick peck. Your dad smiled at this, but before you could turn away Sirius wrapped his arms around you and stole another longer kiss. If only by seconds. You laughed into his lips and he smiled against yours. Muttering a goodbye before you and your father finally apparated away.
You didn't think tonight could get much better, but when you looked up at the stairs to your manor, you locked eyes with familiar bright grey ones. Regulus Black, with a suitcase and a bruised cheek, giving you a cautious stare. Like a stray cat, ready to bolt, but instead of attention it was the first sign of rejection.
Regulus Black was a proud boy, like his brother. He was far too determined to do something and everything by himself.
Your father looked confused, before he glanced at you, like he was seeing double in one night.
You hurried up the stairs, not answering your father immediately as you moved to grab his bag. To your absolute shock, Regulus fell into you before you could, hands clenching your sleeves. You were bewildered, Regulus never wanted to be touched.
You didn't have to think twice before you wrapped your arms around his middle and pulled him in close. The younger boy crying softly into your shoulder. Tonight was a startling night for firsts with the Black children, but you didn't hesitate to embrace it.
Your father picked up his luggage and muttered something about fixing up a room for him as he went inside. You were content to comfort Reggie.
~~~
Once Regulus was comfortable in the spare room, you talked. He told you everything about what had happened the past month, and your heart broke. Regulus and you were closer than most, but he still kept cards to his chest. He was paranoid, but in his weakness, he showed you all of them.
He told you what they expected of him, at just fifteen they told him he would be expected to go through with what his brother could not. How when he expressed even the slightest hesitance, they resulted in reprimanding him like Sirius.
He told you how he missed his brother, how he hated being alone in that house. He left the second his mother went to Paris on business, trying to get him a deal with a pureblood overseas.
He promised he would only be there for a few nights at most. His expression was blank but his voice was soaked in sullen misery, sitting beside you on the bed and staring at the wall.
“Where will you go, Regulus?” You reached for his hand and he didn't pull away.
“I'll figure it out.” He mumbled and you gave an offended laugh.
“You're mad if you think I'll let you leave with no plan.” You scoffed. “Regulus, you're safe here.”
“I'm a burden here.” He snapped back, eyes flicking to yours. They were full of pain you were familiar with. Your lips parted and you tried to read his expression, before something sparked in your mind. Burden?
“Regulus, you could never be a burden to me. To us.” You whispered and he sniffled. The shock that went through your body wasn't foreign.
“Reggie…” You paused and tilted your head to try to get him to express what was under all of this. You knew he was prideful and independent, but this didn't seem in character. Not for you two.
A guilt filled you as he refused to meet your eyes. Your eyes widened. Was he.. was he angry with you? “Reggie-”
“Listen. I don't want to get between you and my brother. I'm glad you love him. I'm glad he has someone to love. Just wish you stayed my friend too.” He scoffed and sniffled, the tension in your body fell away. You slowly covered your mouth.
He was right.
You had been spending every waking moment with Sirius since school began again. Pandora had Dorcas, Barty had Evans, Severus had his horrid friends. Regulus didn't have anyone. He would come to the Gryffindor table to spend meals with you, but after, before, Merlin, even during, you were focused on his brother.
The one thing he had with you, Quidditch, and you ran to his brother when he won. Didn't even check on him for his loss. You thought his words were playful that day but truly? You were cruel.
You had abandoned him. To his family, to his self doubt, you left him alone.
You had done what James had done to you.
“Oh Reggie.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He leaned his head against your shoulder but didn't hug back.
That night was filled with heart filled apologies, promises of a better tomorrow, and a guarantee Regulus had a home with you and your father.
It made you wonder, how you felt so guilty and ruined over the simple idea of what you had done to Regulus. Even his forgiveness didn't seem to be enough. James didn't seem the least bit apologetic in his words to you. Not as much as you thought he should.
Eventually, you let him sleep. You lettered Sirius, with Regulus’s permission, of his status.
You woke up early the next morning to your father calling you downstairs. Watching the Black brothers embrace healed something in you that you didn't know needed. Sirius looked so happy, and you watched Regulus grow flustered at his brother's affection. Laughing out as Regulus eventually pushed his sappy brother away and declared he was going back to his room.
You both shared a look as he disappeared.
The summer was the best yet.
~~~
Once school began, James and you had your last separation.
You came to him, voicing your thoughts about his cruelty towards you. He was confused as to where this came from, considering you had forgiven him. You had to remind him, you never did. You stayed at his house for Sirius that summer, he never apologized.
He had changed a lot, he kept true to his promise to better himself for Lily. You were proud of him, but it still hurt. Like a wound that continued to reopen whenever you were reminded that he didn't seem to truly care about what he had done to you. Just wanted to bury it. There was that nagging voice, telling you to just forgive him. Forgive and forget about it.
Then, would you accept that treatment for Regulus? It took seeing it through his eyes to understand you deserved more than an eight year olds apology. But that's what you got.
“Look, I get it. I really am sorry. Forgive me?”
“No.”
“... no? What, {Y/N}, come on. It's been two years now-”
“And I've tried. I have tried so hard, James. But as I've seen it.. I've fought to keep you in my life. You have never done that for me.”
“Fought for you? This isn't some book-”
“That's all I need, James. Just show me better.”
The argument that ensued was short and to the point. Nothing was resolved, so you left it that way. You wouldn't put forward the effort to keep a sense of normalcy despite the pain.
You were content with who you had, you would learn to get over the people you lost.
Your hand was off the wheel. You were done chasing after James Potter. You knew your father would be proud of you. You knew Sirius was proud of you, Regulus too. You never felt so at peace with the people you chose. Not because you never knew any better, but because they wanted you just as badly as you wanted them.
You and Sirius’s relationship was still dancing the line. You both knew that if this truly was just for James benifit it would have been over by now. You both were content as it was. Nothing said, nothing lost.
You both continued to blur the lines between you both, until the first win of the Quidditch season. It didn't take much convincing for him to lock Peter out of their dorm, leaving just you both to do what two young adults would. Something you both agreed was long overdue.
~~~
James had spent his night much the same way, waking up with Lily.
James was happy with Lily, she was everything he ever wanted. There was still something, however, eating him alive inside. He missed you. He didn't know how to handle his part in your departure, still unable to hold himself accountable for the pain he caused you all those years ago. Because you were kids! Practically siblings. Why did he have to prove he cared?
He pushed the thoughts away as Lily woke beside him. Giving him her breathtaking smile, something that James couldn't help but smile back at.
“Morning.��� She sang so sweetly, leaning in to steal and lazy and long kiss. They both smiled into it, content at the moment.
James gave a laugh as Lily rolled onto his lap. Biting her lip as she grabbed the top of the bed frame. “Jamie~” She sang and he looked her up and down, giving a low groan as he snapped forward to kiss her, and like the tease she was, she rolled back over onto her back off his lap.
Neither of them had time to process what happened next, she hit her shoulder on his dresser and hissed. Leaning forward to cover her arm. He moved to rub her skin before he heard the sound of something hitting the floor.
He narrowed his eyes and looked over Lily, his face filling with dread.
Grandos. The dragon statue your father had carved all those years ago, shattered on the ground.
He shot up from the bed, just as Lily looked over. “Jamie?” She whispered and he hurried to get dressed, panicked. Taking out a towel and setting the statue on it like it was the most precious thing in the world.
“Jamie, oh- Oh James I am so sorry-” She began and tried to sit up, he took a deep breath and shot to his feet.
He was crying. Why was he crying?
He was coming to terms with the fact that you would never speak with him again, the figurine didn't mean the end of the world. But it was his last piece of you.
The last thing he didn't share with Sirius. With Regulus. With Remus, with Lily. The last thing that meant you and James would have a connection beyond the silly fights and petty disagreements. The last thing from when you were James. His heart was breaking. “I- She can fix it, right? Do you think she can?” James pleaded to no one.
Lily's heart broke. She could tell immediately what this was about. “James-”
“I-I’ll be back.” He declared quickly and put on his cloak.
It didn't take long for him to make it to the Gryffindor common room, holding the broken figurine like it was a wounded bird. You looked up from your perch on Sirius’s lap, the black haired boy huffing when he lost your attention.
“{Y/N}!” He shouted and hurried over. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, and he shoved the broken pieces towards you. As always, expecting you to mend it.
“James?”
“Please I- I don't know how to fix it. I can't loose it, please.” He begged and your looked to Sirius who seemed just as bewildered. There was a thick silence, as Remus bit his cheek.
It was so painfully clear to everyone but James what this was about.
You sighed through your nose and thought for a moment. Slowly, taking out your wand and waving if. “Repairo.”
Like that, the carving was as good as new. All perfect with its chipped paint and jagged edges. James seemed stunned as he looked down at the polished toy.
You slowly folded your arms. “James?” You whispered.
He hung his head low in shame.
“James.” You called in a more steady voice. He nodded to show he was listening. You scoffed.
“That's the last time, James. I'm not fixing anything for you anymore.”
“I-”
“No. That's it.” You put your hands up and James gave a breathy scoff of his own. Gesturing to you and Sirius, the boys lips thinning.
“Why?” He whispered in a broken hearted whimper. “Why does this fake relationship matter more to you then ours?”
You stared at him with wide and furious eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me, James?”
“Dragon-” Sirius tried to call out to you and you scoffed, waving him off.
“James, I have spent my whole life cleaning up the mess you made of me!” You yelled at the suddenly sheepish boy. “I am prioritizing myself! For once! If you want me in your life, then prioritize me too! I am doing the same for my boyfriend.”
He scoffed. “He isn't even your serious boyfriend! You dated him for me!”
You took a deep breath and before you could say something, Sirius gave a cocky smirk. “We've been over this, yeah?” He snaked his hand around your waist and pulled you back, trying to defuse the situation. “Everyone I date is a Sirius-”
“Stop.” You huffed at him and covered his mouth. He put his hands up in surrender. “James, I think you knew this stopped being fake the moment we agreed to it.”
Sirius gave you the stupidest smile, before coughing into his palm and looked away as you glared at him. Not the time you adorable bloody idiot.
“I just… I thought-”
“James. Everything I did was for you. For 14 years. Forgive me if I'm over it.” You sighed and gestured to the figurine.
“Next time. Fix it yourself.”
629 notes · View notes
starkeysmoon · 2 months ago
Text
ink-stained distractions
pairing: mattheo riddle x gender neutral!reader
summary: a study date with mattheo riddle proves more distracting than productive.
warnings: just pure fluff, playful banter, mutual pining, mild teasing.
words: 1,042
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you never expected to find mattheo riddle, the star player of the slytherin quidditch team, skipping practice for a study date.
yet, here he was, sprawled across the table with a devil-may-care grin, pretending to study while doing everything in his power to make sure you couldn’t focus for a second.
“you’ve written that same sentence three times,” he said, the teasing lilt in his voice breaking your focus.
he leaned back in his chair, spinning his quill with practiced ease. the soft lamplight caught the edges of his sharp features, his dark curls grazing his forehead, making him look entirely too distracting for someone you’d roped into a study date.
“because someone keeps talking,” you retorted, glaring at him.
“or maybe,” he countered, leaning forward, “you’re just looking for an excuse to stare at me.”
you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you, heating up under his gaze.
mattheo riddle was impossible—infuriating, smug, and entirely too handsome for his own good.
“you’re lucky you’re good at this,” you muttered, shoving your notes toward him.
“good at what?” he asked, his smirk widening.
“explaining,” you snapped, though your voice softened. “i don’t understand this part of conjuration. help me, or i’ll find someone else to study with.”
his grin faltered for a split second—just enough to make you wonder if the idea of you studying with someone else actually bothered him. then, as if to prove you wrong, he tilted his head, his expression smug as ever.
“you wouldn’t dare,” he said, his voice low and playful.
“try me.”
with a dramatic sigh, he grabbed your textbook, flipping to the section you’d pointed out. “you’re lucky i’m feeling generous today.”
“you mean, lucky you skipped quidditch for this,” you said, raising a brow.
“i am sick, remember?” he said, miming a weak cough. “tragically bedridden.”
you snorted. “right. because spending the afternoon in the library with me is such a hardship.”
he didn’t respond immediately, his focus shifting to the textbook in front of him. as he began explaining the theory behind conjuration, his tone shifted—calmer, steadier, his words precise and clear.
for someone who constantly got into trouble, mattheo riddle had an uncanny ability to simplify even the most complex topics.
and it was infuriating.
how was he so smart? how was his handwriting so neat, his diagrams so perfect, when half the time he wasn’t even in class?
you stared at him, trying to reconcile the boy who pulled pranks and skipped detention was the one in front of you now, his hair falling into his eyes as he scribbled notes for you.
“you’re staring again,” he said, not looking up from the parchment.
“am not,” you lied, snapping your attention back to your own notes.
he looked up then, a playful gleam in his dark eyes. “it’s okay,” he said softly. “i stare at you, too.”
the air between you shifted, your heart stumbling over itself as his words hung in the space. for once, mattheo didn’t grin or smirk; he just looked at you, his gaze steady, almost vulnerable.
“don’t say stuff like that,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended.
“why not?” he asked, leaning closer.
“because—” you started, but your words faltered when he reached across the table, brushing a stray ink smudge from your cheek with his thumb.
his touch lingered for just a moment before he pulled back, his smirk returning, softer this time. “you’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”
“i hate you,” you muttered, but the words lacked conviction.
“no, you don’t,” he said, his confidence infuriatingly unshaken.
the next hour passed in a blur of explanations and stolen glances, the tension between you growing with every accidental brush of hands, every lingering look.
and then, just as you were starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, you could focus, mattheo leaned back in his chair and stretched, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach.
“really?” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.
“what?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“you’re doing it on purpose,” you accused.
“doing what?” he said, leaning forward again, his curls falling into his eyes.
“that!” you said, gesturing vaguely at him. “existing like... like that.”
he blinked, and then he laughed—a real, genuine laugh that made your chest ache in the best way.
“you’re ridiculous,” he said, his voice warm and soft.
“look who’s talking,” you shot back, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.
for a moment, neither of you said anything. the library was quiet except for the faint rustle of pages and the distant hum of students talking. and in that stillness, mattheo’s gaze found yours again, softer this time, his smirk fading into something more sincere.
“you know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t mind skipping quidditch for this.”
“yeah?” you asked, your own voice quiet.
“yeah,” he said, his lips quirking into a small smile. “it’s worth it... if it’s with you.”
and just like that, you knew you were done for.
mattheo riddle masterlist
563 notes · View notes
goldfades · 2 months ago
Text
baby shower! | JOE BURROW⁹ [003]
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free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!
MASTERLIST
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.4k
⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your baby shower gets a little overwhelming for you and joe.
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | pregnancy mentions/descriptions, doting mothers, arguments, slight hurt to comfort, joe standing up for you like the man he is, a sweet little heart to heart at the end there.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍, but the second you stepped into Maisie’s meticulously decorated living room, you knew it was going to be anything but relaxing.
“Where’s the punch? Who put the finger sandwiches there? They’ll block the dessert table’s aesthetic!” Maisie’s voice rang out like a battle cry, cutting through the soft hum of conversation and the tinkling notes of an instrumental playlist she’d personally curated. She zipped by in a blur of pastel pink and blue, her hands clutching a checklist that looked more intimidating than your OB-GYN’s appointment schedule.
You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the nausea that had plagued you all morning still simmering low in your stomach. The room, while beautifully decorated with clouds of balloons and a sprawling “Oh Baby!” banner, felt uncomfortably warm.
“Sit down, sweetheart!” your mom chirped, swooping in like a hawk in a lavender sweater set. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder and guided you toward the plush loveseat near the fireplace. “You shouldn’t be on your feet too much, especially not with that glow,” she said, her tone sweet but with the underlying force of someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I’m fine, Mom,” you assured her weakly, but it was pointless. Robin, Joe’s mom, appeared out of nowhere with a plate of fruit skewers and a cup of sparkling water.
“You need to stay hydrated,” Robin said with the kind of motherly authority that left no room for argument. “And these are good for the baby—full of vitamins.”
You offered her a tight-lipped smile, though the thought of eating anything right now made your stomach churn.
“Robin, don’t hover too much,” your mom chided playfully, though she was already fluffing a throw pillow and tucking it behind your lower back. “She’s got to be comfortable.”
“I am comfortable,” you lied, shifting awkwardly in your seat.
The truth was, you were anything but comfortable. Your dress—a flowy, neutral-colored number Maisie had practically forced on you—clung in all the wrong places. Your lower back ached from the extra weight you were carrying, and the wave of nausea that had become your constant companion wasn’t helped by the sugary smell wafting from the dessert table.
Maisie stormed back into view, muttering something about the confetti placement being “all wrong.” She paused just long enough to point a manicured finger at you.
“Are you feeling okay? Do you need a fan? A bucket? A full-on evacuation plan?” she asked, her tone frantic but laced with genuine concern.
You forced a laugh. “I’m fine, Maisie. Promise.”
Maisie narrowed her eyes at you like she didn’t quite believe it, but before she could press further, someone called her name from the kitchen. With a dramatic sigh, she marched off, her checklist clutched to her chest like a lifeline.
“I don’t think she’s slept in a week,” you murmured to your mom, who chuckled softly.
“She’s excited,” Robin said, sitting down beside you. “We all are. This baby is going to be so loved.” Her expression softened, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of Joe in her—the same quiet intensity in her eyes, the same way her smile felt like a reassurance.
The thought of Joe brought a small pang of guilt. He’d been hesitant about the whole baby shower thing, mumbling something about how it was more of a “girl thing.” You’d convinced him to make a brief appearance later for the gift opening, but he’d spent the morning at the gym, promising to show up “cleaned up and ready to charm.”
A sudden wave of queasiness hit you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You shifted uncomfortably, hoping no one noticed, but of course, both moms were on you in an instant.
“Are you okay?” Robin asked, leaning forward.
“You look pale,” your mom added, her hand flying to your forehead.
“I’m just—ugh.” You rubbed at your temple, willing the sensation to pass. “I think it’s just the heat in here. Or the smell of those sandwiches. Or maybe the fact that I’m growing a whole human.”
Robin smiled knowingly. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? The shower, the attention… It can be a lot.”
“Tell me about it,” you muttered, sinking further into the loveseat.
Your mom glanced toward the kitchen, where Maisie was now rearranging cupcakes with the intensity of a bomb squad technician. “Should we get you some fresh air?” she suggested.
You shook your head. “No, I’ll be okay. I think I just need a minute.”
Robin squeezed your hand. “Take all the time you need, honey. The important thing is that you and the baby are okay.”
The baby. The words still sent a jolt through you every time someone said them, a mix of excitement and terror that hadn’t quite settled. Across the yard, Maisie was now directing a small army of family members and friends, her voice rising above the chatter. “No, the games go over there! Do you want to ruin the flow of the whole party?!”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite your discomfort. “She’s really taking this seriously,” you said, nodding in Maisie’s direction.
Robin followed your gaze and let out a soft laugh. “She’s been texting me about this shower for weeks. I think she might have more anxiety about it than you do about the baby.”
Your mom leaned in conspiratorially. “She’s been calling me every other night. Last week, she spent twenty minutes debating the merits of a candy bar diaper game versus baby bingo.”
“God bless her,” you said, shaking your head with a small laugh. “She’s going to need a vacation after this.”
Just then, Maisie appeared at your side, clipboard clutched tightly to her chest. “Okay, so the photo booth is almost ready, but the props guy still hasn’t shown up, and I don’t think the centerpiece on the gift table is centered—”
“Maisie,” Robin interrupted gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Take a breath. Everything looks beautiful.”
Maisie’s eyes darted around the yard, clearly skeptical. “You think so? Because the balloons over by the cake table are kind of deflating, and I—”
“Maisie,” you said, cutting her off with a soft smile. “It’s perfect. Really. You’ve done an amazing job.”
She hesitated, then exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Okay,” she said, though she still looked unconvinced. “But if you need anything—literally anything—you call me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you said with a mock salute, earning a small laugh from her before she disappeared again.
The laughter was short-lived, though, as another sharp pang of nausea rolled through you. You set the water glass down, pressing a hand to your stomach and trying to breathe through it.
Robin noticed immediately. “Do you want to lie down?”
“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the edges of your voice wavered.
Your mom frowned. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest.”
“Really, I’m—”
“Stubborn as ever,” Robin finished for you with a knowing look. “Joe’s going to lose it if he finds out you’ve been feeling like this all day.”
You shifted again, trying to find a more comfortable position, and sighed. This was going to be a long day.
┈┈┈
The presents were stacked like a small mountain beside the chair they’d designated as your throne for the day. Wrapped in pastel pinks, yellows, and greens, each box and bag felt like a tiny piece of your future waiting to be unveiled. Joe stood beside you, his tall frame just brushing the edge of the canopy Maisie had insisted on. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, a small furrow etched into his brow as his eyes flicked over the gathered crowd.
You could tell he was overstimulated. The constant buzz of chatter, the occasional bursts of laughter, the sharp crinkle of wrapping paper—it was all pressing in on him, but he stayed rooted to your side. Every now and then, his hand would brush against your shoulder, a silent reassurance for both of you that you weren’t in this alone.
“Alright!” Maisie clapped her hands together, clipboard abandoned for once as she orchestrated the gift-opening session. “Let’s see what this baby is getting spoiled with!”
The first gift was handed to you by Robin, who looked as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. The pink and white polka-dotted bag was adorned with delicate tissue paper, which you pulled away to reveal an impossibly tiny pink onesie. Across the front, in glittering gold letters, it read: Daddy’s Girl.
The room collectively cooed, but you caught the way Joe’s lips twitched into a barely-there smile. He wasn’t a big fan of being the center of attention, but even he couldn’t deny how adorable the onesie was.
Robin leaned in, beaming. “I saw it and couldn’t resist. Something told me it was just perfect.”
“Thanks, Robin,” you said warmly, holding it up for everyone to see before setting it aside.
The next gift was from one of Joe’s teammates, and as you pulled apart the wrapping, you found a set of miniature footballs—one of them signed by Joe himself. A wave of laughter swept through the crowd, and Joe shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting just a little more.
“Thought the kid should start practicing early,” the teammate said with a grin.
The gifts kept coming, each one a mix of sweet, practical, and downright extravagant. There were blankets so soft they felt like clouds, a high-tech baby monitor that you didn’t even know existed, and enough stuffed animals to populate a small zoo.
One of your aunts presented a ruffled pink dress with matching booties, holding it up dramatically for everyone to admire. “She’s going to be the belle of the ball,” she declared.
Maisie, standing off to the side with a skeptical expression, muttered, “Or he’s going to look like a very fashionable dude.”
You tried to stifle a laugh as you moved to the next box, this one from your mom. The neatly wrapped package revealed a handmade quilt, each patch lovingly stitched with little images—stars, moons, teddy bears, and tiny footballs.
“Mom,” you said, your voice catching slightly. “This is beautiful.”
She smiled, her eyes glistening. “Every baby deserves a little piece of love to keep them warm.”
Joe reached out then, brushing his fingers over one of the patches. “It’s really nice, Mrs.—uh, Mom,” he said, the slip into the familial title earning a few approving murmurs from the crowd.
The pile dwindled down to the last few gifts, including one from Maisie, who handed over a bag that was conspicuously neutral compared to the sea of pink surrounding it. You opened it to find a set of gender-neutral onesies in shades of gray and white, each one emblazoned with cheeky slogans like Mom’s Favorite and Future MVP.
“Finally,” Maisie said with a mock sigh. “Someone acknowledges that this baby might not actually be a girl.”
Joe let out a small chuckle at that, his first real laugh of the day. You glanced up at him, grateful for the way he stayed close even though the chaos was clearly wearing on him.
The last gift was from one of your mom’s friends—a pale pink rocking horse, complete with a little saddle and reins. The room erupted into a collective “aww,” but you couldn’t help but notice the way Joe’s jaw tightened just slightly.
It wasn’t a big reaction, but you knew him well enough to catch it. He was overwhelmed, overstimulated, and probably thinking too hard about everything that was happening and what it all meant. You reached out, brushing your fingers against his hand, and he looked down at you, his expression softening instantly.
┈┈┈
The room was still a hum of chatter and laughter long after the gifts had been opened, everyone lingering in clusters to admire the pile of baby treasures and speculate about the baby’s future. At first, it was endearing—watching the people you cared about get so invested in the new life you were bringing into the world.
But as the conversations grew louder and the attention lingered, a familiar unease began to creep in.
Robin held up the tiny pink dress your aunt had gifted, spinning it in her hands as though she were imagining a little girl already toddling around in it. “She’s going to be the most darling thing this side of Cincinnati,” she declared, her voice carrying over the murmur of voices.
“Or,” your mom interjected, “maybe he’ll be the most handsome boy in town.” She shot Robin a teasing smile, but there was a sharpness to the exchange.
“You really think it’s a boy?” Robin asked, eyebrows arched.
“Mother’s intuition,” your mom replied with a confident nod.
“Don’t you think the pink onesie says otherwise?” one of Joe’s aunts chimed in, holding it up like it was a smoking gun.
Maisie, seated on the arm of a chair nearby, caught your eye with a subtle shake of her head, as if to say Don’t engage. You appreciated her silent support, but the voices around you were getting harder to tune out.
“I’m telling you, it’s a girl,” Robin insisted, crossing her arms like she was laying down a bet.
“And I’m telling you,” your mom countered, “it’s a boy. We’ll see who’s right when the baby gets here.”
Other voices joined in, speculating wildly about who the baby might take after, what their personality would be, whether they’d follow in Joe’s footsteps or carve out their own path. The noise was starting to press against your temples, the endless back-and-forth making the air in the room feel too thick.
Joe, still standing beside you, had gone silent. His hands were back in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the floor, and you could tell he was holding himself together for your sake.
“Alright, alright,” one of his teammates piped up with a grin. “How about a little wager? Fifty bucks says it’s a girl.”
“Make it a hundred,” someone else called out, and the laughter that followed was the final straw.
The knot in your chest tightened, and your hands clenched in your lap. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes—not from sadness, but from sheer overwhelm. The room felt too bright, the voices too loud, and the well-meaning opinions too much.
Before you could say anything, Joe’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
“Enough,” he said, his tone sharp but steady. The room fell silent instantly, all eyes turning to him.
Joe looked up, his jaw tight and his eyes dark with frustration. “This isn’t a betting pool. It’s not a game. Can everyone just… be considerate for once? She’s already dealing with enough without you all making it worse.”
The weight of his words lingered in the room, and the silence that followed was heavy but blessedly calm. Your mom looked sheepish, Robin muttered something about “just having fun,” and even the most boisterous of Joe’s teammates had the decency to look a little ashamed.
You glanced up at Joe, your heart swelling at the way he’d stepped in for you, even when you knew he was barely holding it together himself.
“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the quiet rustle of the room.
He looked down at you then, his expression softening as he saw the gratitude in your eyes. He gave you a small nod, one of his hands brushing against your shoulder again as if to remind you he was there.
The moment was brief, but it was enough to ground you. Even in the midst of all the chaos, Joe had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay.
The house finally quieted as the last of your guests shuffled out the door, their voices trailing into the evening air. Inside, Maisie and Ja'Marr were clinking dishes together in the kitchen, tackling the mountain of cleanup like the MVPs they were. You’d tried to protest earlier, but Maisie had waved you off with a glare sharp enough to make you sit back down.
Now, you stood on the back porch, the cool night breeze brushing against your face. The chaos of the day felt distant here—muted, softened by the hum of crickets and the faint rustle of leaves. You leaned against the railing, one hand resting absentmindedly on your growing belly, and let out a breath you felt like you’d been holding for hours.
Joe was a quiet presence next to you, leaning on the railing with his forearms, his broad shoulders slightly slumped. He’d changed into a soft hoodie and sweats after the last guest left, his game-day persona stripped away, leaving only the guy you knew best—the one who rarely said much but whose silences spoke volumes.
“Hell of a day,” he muttered after a moment, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the last streaks of sunlight bled into the dark.
You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”
He glanced over, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile. “You okay?”
The question was simple, but the way he asked it—soft, almost hesitant—made your chest tighten. You hesitated, trying to figure out how to sum up the whirlwind of emotions.
“Yeah,” you said finally, your voice quiet. “Just… a lot. The attention, the opinions, the arguing. It gets overwhelming, you know?”
Joe nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. “Yeah, I get it.”
You tilted your head to look at him, studying his profile in the fading light. There was a tension in his jaw, a lingering weariness in his eyes, and you realized he was still carrying the weight of the day too.
“Thank you,” you said softly. “For stepping in earlier. I know you’re not big on… all of this, but it meant a lot.”
He shrugged one shoulder, but the way his lips pressed into a thin line told you he was more affected than he let on. “It’s my job to take care of you. Both of you.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a hint of something raw beneath it—an edge of vulnerability he rarely let show.
Your hand drifted to his arm, fingers curling gently around his sleeve. “You already do, more than you know.”
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, the quiet stretching out between you like a warm blanket. The air smelled faintly of grass and the lingering sweetness of cake from inside, and you let yourself sink into the stillness.
“You ever think about how different life’s gonna be?” Joe asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Different how?”
He straightened, leaning back against the railing as he turned to face you. “I mean… everything. A baby changes everything. There’s no going back to how it was before. And as much as I’m ready to be a dad…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes it just… hits me, you know? Like, are we really ready for this?”
The honesty in his words tugged at something deep inside you. “I think it’s okay not to feel ready all the time,” you said, your voice gentle. “I don’t think anyone ever really is. But we’ve got each other, Joe. That’s enough.”
His eyes met yours then, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. He reached out, his hand brushing against yours before curling around it, his touch warm and grounding.
“You’re gonna be an amazing mom,” he said quietly.
Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard against the wave of emotion. “And you’re going to be the best dad.”
Joe chuckled, a soft, self-deprecating sound. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll try. Guess that’s all we can do, right?”
“Right,” you agreed, your fingers lacing with his.
The night deepened around you, the stars beginning to poke through the inky sky, and you stayed there together, leaning on each other in the quiet. Inside, you could hear Maisie bossing Ja’Marr around as they finished up the cleanup, her voice a familiar, grounding presence.
For now, this moment was yours—just the two of you, standing at the edge of a new chapter, not knowing what lay ahead but knowing you’d face it together.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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cupidhoons · 2 months ago
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                 STUDY DATE       ⎯⎯     ﹙  정원  ﹚
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              📖       high achiever   ,    don't you see?
in which  . . .  your boyfriend comes over to help you productively study  —   정원  x  f! reader   ୨୧   highschool! au  /  fluff    wc  761   ・     w   studying (#effstudying) maths (gross) petnames jungwon is a tease lolol   +   from liz.  my jw debut on this account 😍
                 likes and feedback are greatly appreciated ><
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YOU SAT HUNCHED OVER YOUR DESK, head on the table as your boyfriend talked away about the importance of mathematics. The open notebook in front of you was a blur, refusing to make any sense. 
The real problem wasn’t the maths—it was Jungwon. Sitting just a breath away, looking effortlessly perfect, he made concentration impossible. You bit your lip, mentally cursing your brain for prioritising his stupidly good looks over your homework. 
“Are you even listening to what I'm saying?” Jungwon says, eyebrows knitting together. He spins the pencil between his fingers, effortlessly moving it around. The pencil probably knew more than you did, you thought, biting back a groan.
“Uh…yes?” you lied, barely convincing even yourself. 
“Y/N,” he said, exasperation laced in his tone.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, averting your gaze. But it was too late—he’d already risen from his chair and made his way to your bed.
You turned in your chair to watch him plop down onto the mattress, his blond hair fanning out across your pillow as he stared at the ceiling, and you had to resist every urge to crawl over and bury your fingers in his hair.
The silence in the room was filled with the faint hum of your fan. He didn't even need to look at you, yet you could feel his presence. 
“Wonnie,” you whined, breaking the silence. “I'm bored.” 
Jungwon didn't move, his gaze fixated on the ceiling. “We've been taking breaks the whole evening I've been here, love.” 
“But I clearly can't focus!” you argued, spinning your chair to face him fully. “Can we please take another-”
“No,” He cut you off, sitting up and locking his gaze onto yours. 
“What-”
“We aren't taking another break, Y/n.” 
“Please?” You tried again, pouting this time. 
He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by your attempt. “You're cute, but no.” 
You sigh at his rejection. He was too stern, too hard to make him give in to you. Studying was the last thing on your mind. 
How could he expect you to focus when everything about him was a distraction? The way he smelled—warm and comforting like vanilla and something distinctly Jungwon. The way his lips curved into a teasing smile. The way his cat-like eyes seemed to see through every excuse you made.
You place your head back on the small stack of notebooks, dramatically sighing as you play around with the pen in your hand. 
“It's your fault y’know…” you whined, spinning slowly in your chair to face him. Your pen clattered to the desk as you leaned forward, chin in hand. “I can't focus because of you.”
“My fault?” Jungwon raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching at the corners. He leaned back on his hands tilting his head. “How?” The faint smirk on his face was nearly enough to drive you over the edge. 
“You're just too…distracting.” You huffed. “How am I supposed to think about numbers when you're sitting there looking like…that?” 
His brow lifted, lips curving into a barely suppressed grin. “Looking like what?” 
“You know what,” you shot back, folding your arms. 
“You mean…in a T-Shirt and some sweats?” 
“Don't play dumb, Won. You're-” you waved your hand at him again, unable to find the words — “you're just unfair.” 
He laughed, clearly amused at your lack of words. “Unfair? You're the one pouting like we’re in some sort of rom-com movie.” He teases. 
You let out another groan, annoyed at his teasing. “Whatever! You're just distracting!” You say, spinning back over to your desk, desperately trying to figure out the equation you haven't even started on. But even then, you felt his gaze on you. Pricking at the back of your head, sending shivers down your spine. 
Jungwon walks over to you, spinning your chair around to face him once more. “What are you-”
He leans in close, lips almost touching yours. You were hypnotised, and he knew that. “Y/n,” he said, his voice soft and almost enticing. Your stomach did a flip. “I think you're just looking for an excuse not to study.” 
Your heart raced, the closeness of him stealing every coherent thought from your mind. “Maybe…,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled then, warm and teasing. “Thought so.”
Before you could protest—or maybe beg for another distraction—he pulled away, leaving you breathless as he returned to your desk.
“Now,” he said, tapping your notebook with the pencil, “back to work.”
You stared at him, utterly flustered and trying to recover your composure. This boy was going to be the death of you.
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pseudowho · 7 months ago
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How well do you think Nanami Kento would handle eating spicy food? What would his reaction be towards his girlfriend/wife who LOVES spicy food?
Domestic Bliss: Nanami Kento #6, Spicy
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"Hey, Kento," you whispered conspiratorially into his shoulder, nuzzling him from behind, "that new ramen place just opened round the corner. I hear they have the biggest range of hot sauces going. Big. Huge. International."
Your bad impression earned you a scowl.
"And you want to try them," Kento intoned, flat as he flipped through his newspaper, "I assume."
You draped yourself over the armchair, pushing his newspaper away with your feet. Kento grumbled, trying to avoid their push, until his newspaper crumpled, and he rolled it up, hitting you with it while you laughed.
"I'd love to go," you sighed, dramatic, "but I know you can't handle spicy food." Kento's eyes narrowed.
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, I never see you eat it."
"Because most extra spicy food relies on it being hot as its main point of attraction. I prefer my flavour palate to be a bit more sophisticated." Kento's eyes narrowed again, swiping over you. "Like my women."
"Ouch, Kento."
Kento reached into his pocket, the ghost of a smile on his mouth. "Silly games win silly prizes." He tapped on his phone. He was silent for a moment.
"Table's booked for 7pm. So you can eat spicy food, to your heart's desire...my love."
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Pushing through the chest-level curtain, you and Kento were greeted by a bustling restaurant, vibrant, and enjoying its early success. Your mouth watered as a hot, umami rush of air hit your nose. You smiled, excited, not noticing how Kento read your every move, fizzing with your joy.
Perusing the menu in your intimate corner booth, you noticed the dishes were arranged in order of spice. You leaned over, pointing to Kento's menu.
"This is your side of the menu, darling..." You gestured to one side of the booklet, "...and this is mine." Kento pinched the sides of your knee under the table, smiling lightly, ungoadable.
When the waiter arrived, you requested a bowl of the spiciest ramen listed.
"We have extra hot sauces, too," offered the waiter, "if you like a challenge."
"Perhaps your top five hottest?" You requested, handing the menu back to the waiter, teasing Kento. "And a big glass of milk for my boyfriend."
"That won't be necessary." Kento replied, clipped. "I'll have the same as her, thank you." Your nose flared; a competitive edge.
"You don't have to buy it just because I do, Kento."
"I know that." He hummed, leaning back into his chair, his hands clasped over crossed legs. "But it seems we have some...misunderstandings to address."
Your ramen arrived. Its colour cried Danger. Tree frogs of its exact hue were known to cause certain death, and the hot sauces arrived in a rainbow most often seen in government-approved public warning announcements. Kento gave you a warm smile, chuckling as you snapped and rolled your chopsticks with gusto.
You took a noisy slurp of your noodles, Kento following suit. The heat was slow to build, but by your third slurp of noodles, your mouth thrummed with fire, climbing up your nose and filling your sinuses. You sniffled, laughing and dabbing your mouth with a napkin.
"Wow, they really weren't joking," you laughed, burning from the inside, in a way that was almost too much, "that really is spicy." Kento raised his eyebrows, seemingly unaffected. He reached for the first hot sauce.
"Is it?" He asked, mildly. "I think it could use a little something, actually." Kento splashed his ramen with hot sauce, enthusiastic, and offered you some. With a smile, and a nod, he did the same to your ramen.
"I don't see much difference, to be honest," you lied, the ramen now significantly spicier. You blinked the tears from your eyes as Kento patted your hand sympathetically. With a wan little smile, Kento reached immediately for the third hottest sauce, splashing it onto his ramen.
"Let's cut out the middle man, shall we?" Kento joked, squeezing your thigh affectionately under the table. You were starting to consider that you may have fucked up your last upfuck. You didn't stop Kento as he offered you the hot sauce, splashing a thin, acrid red glaze into your ramen.
The fumes hit you as you leaned over your bowl, and you coughed involuntarily. Kento shook more hot sauce onto his egg, slurping it up with a delighted hum.
"Eat up." He pressed. "It'll get cold." You took a hesitant bite of pork that didn't seem to have too much hot sauce on it. You were wrong. You must have swallowed lava, you thought, your eyes flickering over the restaurant as you chewed, as if someone could help you. Spluttering and praying for escape, you knew you would never live this down with your new lover if you threw in the towel.
"In fact, mine does seem to have cooled down a bit." Kento reached for the hottest of the hot sauces, in an unassuming little bottle with a skull and crossbones on the front. You were on fire, and nodded with tears flowing down your face, sweating, red, and coughing, when Kento offered you some. He was ever the gentleman, never pouring the sauce on your food until you accepted.
Kento was exceptionally uncrumpled, his navy dress shirt still just as pressed as it had been in the morning, his hair still neatly parted. Strands of yours stuck to the sweat in your forehead, and in a delirious haze, you lifted your bowl to slurp the broth, desperate to end this hellish ordeal.
You briefly saw God, before plummeting to the deepest circle of hell. There was no heaven. Life was a lie. Existence was meaningless. You felt the flesh melt off your bones, knowing death was nigh. Your hands shook, your smouldering lips puffy, mascara on your cheeks. You sat with your head in your hands, having just drunk acid. You dared one look up towards Kento.
...who seemed delighted by his meal, paying the waiter, and rubbing your thigh with those warm, gentle hands.
"There are people waiting for our table, darling. We'll go, hmm? My place, or yours?"
Your mouth numb, slurring, you babbled; "Me at, er-- mine...you at-- at-- yours--" You would surely be spending the evening in a bath of milk, retching into the sink. Kento pressed a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead.
"You're right. I'm always tired after a good meal, too."
After being driven home, you spent the night in an oven, wondering if you would ever get over challenging Nanami Kento to such a stupid, unwinnable fight.
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"How's that new girl of yours, huh, Nanamin? Managed to impress her yet?" Gojo called from outside the toilet stall, tapping away in his phone with that everfixed smile. A low, nauseated groan rumbled out from the stall.
"--I...think she might dump me actually." More groans of agony sounded from the toilet stall, with Kento within, trapped in Satan's grasp.
Gojo had your number, of course. You and he had been chatting for weeks. Gojo held down the Record button outside Kento's toilet stall, ready to send you Kento's anguished moans.
Nanami Kento couldn't stand spicy food. He'd never let you know that. Thankfully, he had a friend who would sell him out at any given opportunity.
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frudoo · 5 months ago
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Literally obsessed with your Slasher 141 series, its been giving me so much brainrot
I have a few ideas;
reader feels a bit self conscious about her body and the boys make it their mission to show her how beautiful she is in their eyes (could be fluff or smut)
OR
Reader decides to be a brat over text to the boys as they were out for the day, and hides from the boys once they arrive home, resulting in them hunting and chasing her down 👀👀 ( smut and a lil fluff )
This is very self-indulgent because I've been feeling bad about my own body lately. This is for my fellow fat girls <3
Warnings: Mentions of skipping meals, food in general. Self-deprecating thoughts, somewhat poor communication. Fem!Reader is fat (in all of the slasher!141 AU). Fluff!
You’ve been off lately. During mealtime with the boys, you barely eat, just poke at the food on your plate. It isn’t like you—you’re usually the one to cook and try out all kinds of new recipes to share with your lovers, or baking sweet treats to give them after a hard day—so for you to suddenly have no interest in food is concerning. Tonight is no exception. John made your favorite, beef stew and cornbread (a southern delicacy you taught him how to make), but you just mindlessly stir the stew with your spoon, eyes focused on nothing at all.
     “How was your day, dove?” Kyle tries to break you from your trance, but you only nod.
     “Helped a chicken give birth today,” Simon stares straight at you, ignoring the incredulous looks the other three men give him.
     Still, no sort of reaction from you, other than an uninterested hum. 
     “Ah went tae the doctor earlier,” Johnny says next. “Turns oot ah’m pregnant.”
     “Nice,” you deadpan, completely oblivious to the outrageous lies these dumbasses have been telling you. 
     “Enough,” Price furrows his eyebrows, dropping his spoon with a clang. “Darlin’, you haven’t eaten in two days.”
     This time, you listen. Immediately, you rush to defend yourself, eyes narrowed at the bearded man.
     “I’ve just been fe-”
    “Don’t you give me that bullshit about bein’ sick, either. I’ve seen you sick, and it was completely different than this,” he interrupts, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Speak, baby. Tell us what’s goin’ on in that pretty head o’yours.”
     “It’s nothing,” you grumble.
     Simon sighs dramatically, slapping his palms down on the dining room table to push himself up out of his chair. Before you can protest, he picks you up and sits in your seat, then settles you in his lap. You try to wriggle free, but his hold on you is unwavering. 
     “Stop strugglin’ and tell us wha’ the fuck is wrong w’you,” the blond man grunts, strong arms wrapped around your waist so you can’t move as much. 
     “I hate my body!” You blurt, and the room falls silent. “I-I don’t know what you all see in me. I just… I look gross.”
     Tears build in your eyes and spill past your waterline, streaming down your round cheeks. All four men look at each other wordlessly, unsure of what to say. Their silence breaks your heart, and you manage to wriggle out of Simon’s lap. 
     “I’m going to bed,” you mumble, wiping your eyes with your sweatshirt and moping your way upstairs.
     Your bedroom is the furthest down the hall, the longest walk. Usually this fact doesn’t bother you, but with your state of mind the way it is right now, you can’t help but feel like it’s purposeful. You slam the door shut and lock it, purposefully avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror as you flop into bed. It creaks with your weight, and you let out another sob. 
     You end up crying yourself to sleep, clammy face stuck to your pillow. When you wake up, you find that your door is still locked and try your hardest not to burst into tears all over again. Not one of the boys came to check on you last night? It makes you feel even worse—are you that much of an eyesore that they don’t dare come see if you’re okay? The thought makes your stomach churn. A knock makes itself known on your door, pulling you from your thoughts.
     “Dove? Can you let us in?” Kyle’s soft voice sounds from the hallway. “Please?”
     “We wanna talk to you, sweet girl,” Price’s voice comes next, followed by more pleas from Johnny and Simon.
     With a shaky sigh, you oblige, unlocking the door and swinging it open. When your eyes fall on them, you bite back a gasp—they all look exhausted, puffy bags beneath their bloodshot eyes, frowns tugging their lips downward. You can’t imagine you look any better, but still, your heart aches seeing them look so down.
     “Hey, bonnie,” Johnny instantly brightens up when he sees you, and you have to fight the urge to push him off when he wraps his arms around you. 
     “Hi,” you mutter, impartial to the kiss the Scotsman plants on your temple.
     They all trail into your room nervously, and it’s just then that you notice a large jar in Simon’s arms. Your eyebrows furrow as you sit on the edge of your bed, waiting for one of them to speak up first.
     “I want to start by apologizin’, sweetheart,” John begins, sitting beside you on your bed. “We were all… well, none of us were expectin’ to hear you talk about yourself like that, and we panicked. That wasn’t fair to you.”
     You shrug, eyes focused on your lap. Price reaches out to grab your hand, gently running his thumb across your knuckles. 
     “You are absolutely stunnin’. You are the farthest thing from gross, dove,” Kyle sits on your opposite side, grabbing your unoccupied hand. 
     “Ah think ah speak fer all of us when ah say tha’ we love yer body,” Johnny hums.
     “I’m fat,” you frown, and Simon scoffs.
     “Yeah? And?” He narrows his eyes at you. “We like y’like tha’. More t’grab, more t’love.”
     “I don’t understand why,” you whisper, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously. 
     “What’s not to understand?” John squeezes your hand. “You’re soft, and warm.”
     “The fuckin’ best at cuddlin’, too,” Kyle grins.
     “Great tits,” Johnny butts in, earning himself a jab to the ribcage from Simon. “Och- wha’?! It’s true!”
     “Wha’ the wanker is tryin’ t’say is tha’ you’re perfect. For us, in general—y’complete us, love. Your body is jus’ a plus,” Simon concludes, finally stepping forward to offer you the jar.
     “What’s this?” You ask, carefully pulling your hands out of Kyle and John’s. 
     “We spent all nigh’ gatherin’ up pictures of you tha’ we love,” Kyle explains, watching excitedly as you screw the lid off. 
     Inside, the jar is filled to the brim with photos and polaroid pictures—candids of you baking in the kitchen, napping on the couch, tending to the garden or the animals, even selfies you sent to Johnny when the two of you first started talking online. Mixed in with those is printouts of text messages they’ve all sent each other, fawning over you, some of which dating back to even before you met the others. Tears stream down your face yet again, but instead of being sad, you’re overwhelmed with love and joy from these men you get to call yours.
     “I-I don’t know what to say,” you sniffle, setting down the jar to wipe your eyes.
     “Don’t say anythin’, darlin’, just let us hold you,” John murmurs, pulling you onto the bed and wrapping an arm around your waist.
     Maybe being dogpiled by your four huge husbands on an already creaky bed isn’t the best idea, but hey, all that matters is that you’re happy.
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dio-icarticaae · 1 year ago
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AAAAAAHHHHH OH MY GOD I'M LOSING IT I LOVE TRINITY SHENANIGANS
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I love that they apparently have regular do normal people things hang outs. That's perfect. Enrichment for everyone!
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This is the right response to Batman announcing you're playing trivia.
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Awwww love Diana just casually being like "we love you but no. You are insufferable about this."
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Ah yep that is exactly how I'd expect Bruce to act about trivia.
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I LOVE THIS PANEL. Clark hiding behind the paper with an "oh no" expression. Diana just given up slumped over the table. Bruce's flame eyes and incredible rage. It's perfect.
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You're a lying liar that lies Bruce.
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LOL love Clark calling his bluff. Get him! And this is going to turn into a "see how much until Bruce snaps" thing.
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Diana is loving this opportunity to wage psychological warfare on Bruce.
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Love that Diana and Clark are leaning forward at the same angle.
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LOL he is so dramatic!
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Of course Clark was listening in!
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This panel is so gorgeous. I am all for more Trinity shenanigans!
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wholoveseggs · 19 days ago
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A Kiss for Christmas
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}{Five Days of Fluffmas}
{Kol Mikaelson x Reader} Kol Mikaelson’s relentless mistletoe mischief is driving you mad... but this Christmas, you’re determined to win the game he started...
♡♡ Happy Fluffmas!!!! ♡♡
820 words {omg a short fic for once} - Warnings: flufffff, banter, mistletoe shenanigans and Kol being Kol...
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@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming
@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse
@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2
@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury
@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28
@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy
@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson
@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp
@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven
@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97
@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka
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Kol Mikaelson was insufferable.
That thought had crossed your mind a dozen times already today. It wasn’t unusual, of course…Kol had a knack for pushing your buttons, but this time he’d outdone himself. He’d found a sprig of mistletoe somewhere in the sprawling Mikaelson estate, and now he was making it everyone’s problem.
Specifically, yours.
You were headed towards the kitchen, hoping for a quiet moment to grab some cocoa, but there he was, leaning against the doorway with that unmistakable smirk. Above his head, held precariously between two fingers, was the offending greenery.
“Fancy meeting you here, darling,” he said, his tone dripping with faux surprise. “What a coincidence that we are standing under some mistletoe. Care to indulge me?”
You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. “You’ll have to do better than that, Kol.”
He tsked, feigning disappointment as he followed you to the counter. “Oh, come now. It’s tradition. You wouldn’t want to ruin Christmas, would you?”
“I’ll take my chances,” you replied, focusing on pouring your drink.
Kol sighed dramatically, like you’d broken his heart. “You wound me, love. Truly.”
You ignored him, though your traitorous heart was racing. There was something about the way Kol teased you, the way he always seemed to be waiting for a reaction. It was infuriating. It was exhilarating.
You refused to give him the satisfaction.
But Kol wasn’t one to give up easily.
The next time you saw him, he was lounging on the couch in the living room, twirling the mistletoe between his fingers. You barely made it two steps into the room before he stood up, crossing the distance between you in a blur of vampiric speed.
“There you are,” he said, grinning as he dangled the mistletoe over your head.
“Kol,” you warned, stepping back.
“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll enjoy it?” he teased, leaning in just enough to make your pulse jump.
You snatched the mistletoe out of his hand and threw it onto the coffee table. “Stop it.”
Kol only laughed, entirely unbothered. “Admit it, darling. You’re tempted.”
“I’m tempted to stake you,” you muttered, retreating before he could see the heat rising in your cheeks.
Over the next few hours, Kol’s antics escalated. He started appearing out of nowhere, holding the mistletoe above you, leaving you flustered and irritated. You’d turn a corner, and there he’d be, leaning casually against the wall, mistletoe in hand.
And then he took it a step further.
You reached into your pocket to grab your phone and froze when your fingers brushed something unfamiliar. Pulling it out, you found the mistletoe, its tiny berries mocking you.
Your frustration boiled over. Clutching the mistletoe, you stormed through the halls in search of Kol. You found him lounging in the library, an innocent expression plastered across his face as he flipped through a book.
When he saw you, his eyes lit up with mock surprise. “Darling! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
You held up the mistletoe. “Explain this.”
Kol’s smirk widened. “Why, I’ve no idea how that got there. Perhaps it’s fate telling you something?”
“Is sneaking mistletoe into my pocket your idea of fate now?” you snapped.
Kol closed the book and stood, strolling toward you with deliberate slowness. “Perhaps I put it there…” He trailed off, tilting his head as though deep in thought. Then, with exaggerated delight, he gasped. “Or maybe it was one of Santa’s elves! Tricky little devils, aren’t they?”
Your blood boiled, your heart racing faster with every word. “Are you serious right now?”
He grinned, stepping closer. “Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, you have some mistletoe. Is this your way of asking for a kiss?”
His tone was playful, but the smug look on his face was unbearable. He clearly thought he had the upper hand, and you were done letting him have it.
Fine. Two could play at that game.
Before he could say another word, you stormed across the room, grabbing him by the collar. His eyes widened in shock, but before he could react, you kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It was every ounce of frustration you’d felt all day wrapped into one bold, heated kiss.
When you pulled back, Kol’s expression was priceless. His smirk was gone, replaced by wide eyes and parted lips. He blinked, his hand brushing his lips as though trying to process what just happened. For the first time all day, he was completely speechless.
“Happy now?” you asked, tossing the mistletoe at him.
A slow grin spread across his face, and he let out a soft laugh. “You’ve just made Christmas my favorite holiday.”
You couldn’t help but laugh in return. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he replied, his usual confidence returning as he leaned in and captured your lips in another kiss. This one was softer, deliberate, and left your knees weak.
Maybe you did.
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