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angelfic · 2 years ago

Text

— OOPS, I LOVE YOU. S.H.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: the 4 times you’re just best friends and the 1 time you’re not. alternatively, 5 things never to do with someone unless you want to fall in love.

warnings: kissing, swearing, mentions of drinking, throwing up from drinking, pretty much pg-13 fluff otherwise

author’s note: inspired by a tiktok sent to me by my lovely anon who is the whole reason I wrote this little thing until 5am in the morning lol, enjoy and let me know what u think as always <3

1. when he does that reverse driving thing.

Listen. You at least have the decency to feel a little bad about it. But you can’t help it! Steve may be your best friend, but damn it, you are not immune to the one hand on the steering wheel, one arm on your seat while reversing the car thing that instantly makes any guy more attractive.

A lot more attractive.

So attractive that you momentarily forget the reason he’s driving in the first place, which is to get the kids to the new arcade that opened up just on the outskirts of Hawkins. And you’re supposed to be giving him directions.

Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you turn a little to the back and find Dustin, squished between Lucas and Will, with a shit-eating grin on his face as his gaze flickers from you to Steve. You furrow your brows in a false display of confusion before turning back to your map, as though you don’t know that all the kids believe you and your best friend are harbouring feelings for each other.

Definitely not true, obviously.

You don’t even notice that the map is about to rip at the corners from your grip as you try and ignore the kids whispering in the back. That is until you feel a finger gently prodding your arm and you realise Steve has been asking you a question.

“What?” you ask, stupidly. And a little breathlessly, because there is absolutely no reason for Steve to be smiling like that. “Did you say something?”

“Just wondering if it’s straight ahead or left here,” he gestures in front to the road and you frantically search the map for where you lost your place. Definitely not helped by the whispering in the back getting louder. “You okay?”

“Fine!” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s, uh, left.”

“Thanks,” Steve mutters, glancing up into the rearview mirror and frowning. “Keep it down, you’re distracting Y/N, you little freaks.”

“Aw, they’re just excited, Stevie,” you laugh, and when Steve turns his eyes back to the road, it’s your turn to glare at them through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, we’re just excited Stevie,” Max teases, clearly unperturbed by the underlying threat.

Her words set off the others and you smile sweetly before turning to Steve. “Hey, you wanna drive back, drop the kids off and catch a movie?”

They all yell in unison; a mix of ‘no’, ‘please’ and ‘we’ll shut up’. Satisfied, you sit back in your seat and look at your map again, to avoid any involuntarily reaction to Steve smiling at you.

Yeah, the kids have no idea what they’re talking about.

2. when he lets you cut his hair

“Harrington, are you fucking with me right now?”

“Wha- No!” Steve sits up from his previous position with his head in your lap as you played with his hair, the two of you watching some lame comedy movie. “I mean, you don’t have to do it, but since you were offering…” he trails off as he gets up to grab another bottle of water and you take the time to compose yourself.

When he comes back, you immediately start in on him. “So, you’re actually being serious about me cutting… your hair.”

“What’s the big deal?” he asks, the question sounding muffled by the enormous handful of popcorn he just stuffed into his mouth. “You cut Max’s hair the other day, didn’t you?”

You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “Max wouldn’t have cared if I had given her the same haircut as Will,” you emphasise. “You- You’re… you’re Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington!”

“Ah, yes, my government name,” Steve says sarcastically. “But, I mean, it’s you. I trust you to cut my hair. Just don’t give me the same haircut as Will and we’ll be fine.”

A huge grin threatens to break free and you find that you physically can’t stop it. “You really trust me that much?” You nudge him with your leg from the other side of the couch and he rolls his eyes, but the pink tint of his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “Aw, you old softie. Alright, get up.”

“Wha- We’re doing it now?” his head snaps up at you, hand reaching halfway to the popcorn bowl. You move it to the side and grab his hand to start dragging him to his bathroom.

“You can’t take it back now, Steve. Binding verbal contract,” you declare dramatically and sit him down on the closed toilet seat, legs spread apart for you to stand between.

As you reach for the scissors in the cabinet above his head, Steve places his hands on either side of your waist as a reflex action to steady you while you search. “I wasn’t gonna take it back, I was just invested in the movie,” he mumbles, dangerously close to your stomach which causes his breath to fan across the tiny strip of exposed skin from where your pyjama shirt has ridden up.

If it weren’t for you trying to steady your own breathing, you’d have noticed Steve’s was slightly shaky. Quickly grabbing the scissors that are finally in view, you find yourself level with Steve who looks up at you, hands still on your waist. He keeps them there even while you set a towel around his neck.

The bastard winks at you. Raising a brow, you hold up the scissors threateningly and you swear he turns a little paler.

“Relax,” you snort, stepping away from Steve to get the water in the sink running. His hand trails down your leg, light as a feather as he’s reluctant to let go. He’s always been touchy with you, and you with him. You’ve always thought it was normal best friend behaviour growing up.

Even as you wash his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands, his eyes flutter shut and you think about how natural this is for your dynamic.

And yet, ever since you and Steve became the unofficial babysitters for a bunch of kids who seem to be convinced that Steve is in love with you and you’re in love with him, you second guess everything about your friendship.

You can’t help but consider that maybe it isn’t normal for you to hate every girl Steve has ever gone out with, or for him to point out every flaw in the guys who go out with you to the point where you end up cancelling on every one of them.

Or for you to compare every guy you do end up going out with to your best friend…

Damn kids, putting ideas in your head.

“You’ve been a little too quiet,” Steve cracks an eye open, squinting up at you through wet hair. “You’re not planning on balding me are you?”

“Scared you’ll lose the source of all your powers?” you ask him in mock concern. “One wrong snip and there goes your endless chain of girls.”

“All except you,” Steve fires back, shaking the wet strands of hair in your face, making you gasp.

You grab the towel around his neck to swat at him, but he grabs the other end and tugs at it, making you stumble and use his shoulder for support.

He smiles at you, guilt-free and you think about how your best friend has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.

And so you push yourself off before you find your mind venturing into dangerous territory.

“Well, I say it’s time to test that theory out,” you reply, clearing your throat and picking up the scissors again. “You better be feeling fortunate it’s me holding these scissors of all people.”

“Oh, I am.”

3. when he holds back your hair

“Ooooh, thanks for the haircut, Y/N,” you groan out in your best imitation of Steve’s voice as he hauls you into the bathroom of whoever the hell’s house you’re in. “I love my hair soooo much. Let’s go to a party so everyone can see my hair. Then you can get so drunk you feel like you’re going to die.”

“I didn’t force the alcohol down your throat!” Steve exclaims, sitting down with you on the floor by the toilet, lifting up the seat and helping you lean over it. The guilt in his voice contradicts his words heavily. “Hey, wait, let me tie your hair up first.”

He gathers your hair up in one hand and uses his teeth to take off the hair tie he keeps on his other wrist for you.

If it weren’t for the nausea, your stomach might have swooped for a completely different reason.

“You know damn well that I don’t go to these parties, Steve,” you try to take deep breaths to keep the vomiting at bay while he ties your hair. “Because every time you force me to, the whole entire population apparently wants to talk to you, so I get all bored and end up drinking half the alcohol on the premises without realising!”

“I’m sorry,” he soothes, keeping your ponytail out of the way as your body decides it can’t keep the sickness at bay. “It’s okay, babe. You’re fine, I got you.”

It’s while Steve grabs you tissue after tissue and cleans you up unflinchingly, that you realise maybe he isn’t just your totally platonic childhood best friend.

The scowl on your face, which is actually directed at the universe for putting you in this situation of all things to realise your feelings, gets misinterpreted by Steve who pouts at you, hand resting on your cheek.

“I’m gonna take you home and you can stay over and I’ll stay with you all night in case you throw up again and you can pick the movie for tomorrow’s movie night and the next month’s worth of movie nights, okay?” Steve implores, eyes wide and pleasing with you.

“Okay,” you whisper, no argument left in you. Partly because of the vomiting, mostly because you’re trying to process all these feelings while drunk and exhausted. You slump against his chest and he holds you there. “Thanks, Stevie.”

“Anything for you.”

You’re definitely fucked.

4. when he cooks you breakfast

“Pass the knife,” Steve calls over his shoulder to where you’re sat on the opposite kitchen counter. His voice makes you wince, your head still hurting from your killer hangover. Probably the reason Steve is cooking you breakfast in the first place.

You grab the knife and walk over to him, slowly and grudgingly. “Not so loud,” you grumble, passing it over a little too aggressively.

“You’ll feel better once you get some pancakes in you,” Steve says, all-knowing expression on his face as he chops up strawberries — your favourite. “You go and sit, I’ll bring them to you.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you shrug, grabbing the spatula to start flipping the pancakes already in the pan. “You just focus on those strawberries.”

He looks at you warily while you struggle to flip even one pancake. “I don’t even know why you bother every time.”

“Go to hell, Harrington,” you mumble, right before the uncooked batter on top of the pancake smears on the side of the pan. “You distracted me!”

Steve chuckles in response and sets down his knife, coming over to stand behind you. You aren’t prepared for him to trap you between the stove and him, holding your spatula-wielding hand and guiding it under the pancake. “Here, like this.”

It was easy enough to ignore the sight of him making you breakfast as you stared at random kitchen utensils from your spot on the counter this whole time. But it’s another thing when he’s pressed up against you, hand over yours, his scent overwhelming you. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing his shirt and his sweatpants and slept in his bed — you quite literally can’t escape him no matter where you go. And that means you start to think about your feelings for him, unfortunately sober this time, not allowing you to ignore them.

The problem is, you don’t think you want to.

“We’re like an old married couple sometimes,” he says, completely offhandedly.

You freeze, not knowing what to say.

He’s kidding, of course, making a joke that you should probably laugh at. The thought of him saying things like this while thinking about you completely platonically, however, suddenly brings back nausea that rivals the night before. You collect yourself quickly and mutter something about how he wishes, before ducking under his arm to get some plates.

Steve clears his throat, running a hand through his hair, a little awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”

You really need to work on your acting skills.

“Nothing!” you insist, waving him off and handing him a plate. “I just felt a little dizzy for a second. Hungry.”

“Oh, do you wanna eat and then rest up?” His protective mode immediately kicks in, something you’re all too familiar with. “I can go grocery shopping for movie night with the kids myself.”

You roll your eyes, loading your plate with strawberries before Steve even has the chance to place the first pancake on. “I’m just hungry, I promise. Also, every time one of us goes alone, we end up forgetting like half the list and those kids are scary when they don’t have their essentials.”

“Oh, I remember the Eggo incident all too well,” Steve shudders are the memory. “My coffee table still leans a little to the right.”

5. when you go grocery shopping

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t stop at my house so I could grab some clothes,” you grumble, handing over the shopping cart to Steve with more force than necessary. “It was literally on the way! I look ridiculous, Steve.”

When he doesn’t answer, you sigh and look up from your list to find him grinning stupidly and looking over at your figure, clad in his clothes. You swat at his arm to snap him to attention.

“I think you look cute in my clothes,” he shrugs, unapologetic. “A completely self-indulgent move on my part.”

You almost stop in your tracks.

Yeah, Steve and you are close and he’s a sweet, charming, naturally flirty guy. But he’s never been this bold with you. First at breakfast, practically back-hugging you, and now admitting he likes to see you in his clothes?

You wonder what’s changed all of a sudden, but it’s making you nervous. And a little frustrated because how are you meant to come to terms with your feelings for your best friend when he says things like that!

“Don’t let the kids catch you saying stuff like that,” you wrinkle your nose, throwing a box of Eggos into the cart before you forget. “They’d be insufferable.”

“So, what?” Steve mumbles, pushing the cart into the next aisle to look for Lucas’ cookies. “They’re just joking around.”

You frown at the lack of joking around in his voice, and walk to the end of the cart which Steve stops in order to avoid running you over. “You don’t find it embarrassing and irritating?”

He scoffs. “Nice to know how you feel about the mere thought of being together,” he laughs without a trace of humour. “What’s the big deal, anyway?”

The sudden change of tone in the conversation has you wildly confused, and slightly annoyed because it’s easy for Steve to wave off the kids and their very real remarks. “The big deal is that we aren’t together. And the kids always saying that we should be… I- it- it has me confused!”

An elderly woman who’s about to enter the aisle, sees the two of you and clearly hears you raising your voice because she instantly turns her cart around.

“What has you confused?” Steve asks incredulously, throwing his arms up. “Is the idea of being with me that mind-boggling?”

You laugh derisively, no clue what he’s talking about. “We aren’t even—This has me confused! You, when you talk like we should be together, and when you flirt and when you act like we are together! But then we’re just best friends! What the hell is up with that?!”

“Well!” Steve looks around — you aren’t sure why, when the aisle is empty aside from you two. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Maybe it’s because I fucking love you!”

Your breath catches in your throat and you’re scared you might start choking if you do try and speak. However, when Steve looks at you like he wants to take it all back, misunderstanding your silence, you can’t stop the words from flowing out. “Well…maybe I love you too!

The relief on Steve’s face is something you catch for only a few seconds, because the next minute he’s striding over, shopping trolley abandoned on the side. He stares down at you, gaze intense and determined and so, so beautiful. “And maybe I wanna kiss you really bad.”

“Maybe you better.”

And so he does. He kisses you, really, really kisses you with the intention of making you forget everything else except him. Your best friend— your completely non-platonic best friend is kissing you and sliding his hands into your hair as you keep your hands on his hard, strong, chest that you’ve leant on for so many years. And while he presses his lips to yours, you can believe that he’s loved you for that long, you know he has.

When Steve reluctantly pulls away, you realise that you’ve loved him for just as long and damn those kids for knowing it before you did.

You’re the first to speak, albeit breathlessly. “They’re never gonna let us live this down, are they?”

“I don’t even care,” he shakes his head, grinning. “I finally got the girl.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery x reader

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smallestapplin · 2 years ago

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Ok tho! For my request, could I request Raihan and Leon protecting and comforting their trans masc s/o from homophobic/transphobic family? Kinda like you did with the obsessive ex ones?

Tired of people thinking that constant emotional and physical abuse is some kind of love language lol. Sorry if this is like, heavy (feel free to ignore it btw I'm gunna be fine in the end, just annoyed to hell at how much contact people can still manage to have with you despite trying to be completely no contact)

-🦄

I understand! I hope you’re doing well. (I meant to get this out yesterday.)

Reader uses he/him pronouns and masc descriptors.

CW : for homophobia, transphobia. (But not explicit explicit, as that makes me uncomfy)

🐉Raihan🐉

- he was already aware of your family, and their dislike (to put it lightly) of you essentially. It was one of those things you two had a heart to heart on, late at night.

- It broke his heart to see you cry, just how upset you were that you had to go no contact with your old family. But you had to, for the sake of your own mental health and safety.

- Raihan vowed right then and there that he won’t let another soul hurt you.

- Everyone in Galar knows who you are, Raihan is never quiet about you and his love for you.

- Most of Raihan’s posts are ‘out with my man!’ And it’s a picture of you two, getting lunch after a battle, ‘I got the handsomest dork around.’ It’s a picture of your excited face over some merch, ‘he fell for my trap! >:3’ and the most common being Raihan trapping you, in his arms so you can’t move, or leave.

- It’s always so cute, the fans love seeing all the stupidly domesticate photos.

- Your family however, also saw them.

- Any of their comments were shortly deleted and they were blocked. Every profile they made was just blocked and reported.

- Raihan refused to let you see that, especially from them.

- He wants to keep you happy and safe, safer and happier.

- He made a post earlier that day, saying ‘get you a man who comes to your work place with your favorite for lunch😩’

- You couldn’t stick around, however, work needed you, so you gave him a hug and a kiss before leaving. Making a pit stop to the bathroom first, but still telling him you’d have to instantly leave once you’re done.

- His own students laugh at his pouting face.

- He hasn’t been expecting your parents of all people, to show up.

- The tension in the gym was thick, the air suffocating the second he saw them.

- His students tried to keep Raihan from lunging at them, when they asked for someone who doesn’t exist.

- His grin was filled with malice “oh that’s too bad! Sorry to hear your delusional, ain’t nobody I know named that.”

- Oh but they argued.

- They didn’t get far though before Raihan called a life long ban for them, and anyone associated with them.

- Tossing out his flygon, he had the large dragon drag them out of his gym. Raihan follows close behind, just so he could slam the door in their faces.

- “Raihan?”

- He snaps his head towards you, he nearly forgot you were simply in the bathroom.

- “Hey handsome!” He didn’t want to admit he was nervous.

- He knows you likely heard, if not, saw all of that.

- You just walk over and hug him, he can feel the tension in your body.

- How you shake, sighing against his chest.

- His arms are around you in a firm grip.

- The dragon type gym leader is livid, you shouldn’t have to deal with this!

- “Call out of work, we are goin home.”

- “Huh? Rai I-“

- “Ah ah ah! You need a spa day! A self care day! And I’m going to make sure you get.”

👑Leon👑

- he’s just as upset as you are, that you had to cut contact with your family.

- Leon has always been a big family man, they mean the world to him! He couldn’t imagine not having their support, and love.

- Which is why he was ecstatic when his family welcomed you with open arms.

- He was more worried about Hop liking you. But you and Hop get along like best friends, so he was thrilled.

- Leon always gushes about you, everyone who has met Leon knows about you. He just can’t help himself! He loves you so much.

- He’s aware of your situation with your ex family, and he promises he will do everything he can.

- It’s no secret you’re dating the champion of Galar.

- Any remarks about you, his and your sexuality, or your gender are completely shut down. He refuses to tolerate any of it.

- Your birth givers were no exception.

- In fact not only was he at your defense, ready to battle, but so was Hop, grandma, grandpa, and mom.

- “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about!”

- You’re in shock and awe at how Leon, your sweet dorky Leon, lays into them, scolding them harshly.

- Humiliating them and berating them for every hurting you and trying to hurt you now.

- He will not just stand there and let them do such things!

- The second they are gone he’s at your side, gently shushing you, and holding you, rocking you both softly.

- “Are you alright, love?”

- “I’m fine…thank you.” You just lay your head on his shoulder, trying to calm your own nerves.

- He will stay here for as long as it takes.

- He loves you.

#tw.transphobia #tw.homophobia #pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokémon #pokemon swsh #pokemon swsh x reader #pokemon leon #pokemon leon x reader #pokemon raihan #pokemon raihan x reader #trans masc reader #x ftm reader #pokemon x trans reader

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toast-is-ticklish · 2 years ago

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Dont Hate You.

Super fluffy not super proofread shadowpeaches fic lmao.

Sorry in advance for typos or weird sentences lol, I sorta wrote this on a whim.

Lee! Sun Wukong Ler!Macaque

Wukong is sort of out of character here just because hes super sleep deprived and irritable.

Hope somebody enjoys this! 💖💖💖

___________________________________________

Being immortal gives you a lot of things to have nightmares about.

This was especially true for Sun Wukong, who had a tendency to make stupid, half-baked plans leading to stupid, terrible, consequences for those he cared about and stupidly failed to protect.

All those mistakes he made were cemented in his mind, every failure branded into his memories with searing heat. They played over, and over, and over, more nights than most.

And so here he was again. Shooting up from his bed with a gasping breath, covered in sweat, lungs feeling empty and aching.

He grounded himself and gave his vision some time to unblur. Breath in, breath out, and then the usual routine.

Glass of water. Cold shower. Attempt to convince yourself to go back to sleep. Fail. Look at the night sky and wait for the sun to rise.

Easy-peasy.

Not like immortals needed to sleep anyways.

The Monkey King slowly clambered off the bed, ready to begin his little mental itinerary. But upon his first step his thoughts were very rudely interrupted by a shrill squuuuueeeeaaaaaak of the floorboard beneath.

Damnit. He didnt have the floor memorized in this stupid air ship yet.

Not a big deal. Unless you're rooming with an extremely nosy six eared monkey.

Stopping himself from groaning in annoyance he looked over at his six eared companions bunk, waiting for a reaction.

A moment ticked by with no stirring or waking up.

Huh. Maybe he was just super lucky tonight.

"Mmh, Wukong? What're you doing?" the black furred monkey mumbled sleepily.

"Nothing, just grabbing a drink."

He didnt want to talk about his nightmare. Some part of Wukong wanted to be called out, just so he could feel like someone was concerned for him. But no. He had to resist that urge. He had to be strong.

Macaque lifted his head up and eyed Wukong suspiciously. "Bullshit," he broke into a yawn and stretched, "You had a nightmare."

"I didnt." The Monkey king didnt even know why he was lying right now. He was too tired to be able to convince anybody, especially not Macaque.

"Why are you denying it? Not to bruise your ego buddy but it's pretty damn obvious," he disappeared into the shadows and flipped up right in front of Wukong to look him in the eyes.

"I dont know what you're talking about. Maybe you need to get your eyes checked Mango," he said, averting eye contact.

He knew using old nicknames would just further provoke the other monkey so he had no idea why he was doing it. His mouth was just sort of. Going.

"Well, Peaches," Macaque snarled, "Let's take a look at you."

"You're drenched in sweat," he listed on his fingers, "your hands are shaking," were they? Wukong didnt even notice.

"Aaaand..." he drawled out, grabbing Wukong by the chin and turning his head, "Those eye bags are looking pretty atrocious."

Monkey king growled through his teeth. He shoved Macaque away, anger flaring up and face prickling. "Why the hell are you even talking to me right now?! To mock me? To piss me off?" he burst out, letting his anger get the best of him. Why was he getting so worked up about this?

Surprisingly, Macaque looked guilty. He smacked a hand on his forehead and dragged it down his face. "I- I just... ugh. This isn't what I wanted," he said with a sigh, "I want to help you Wukong." A moment passed. "I'm..." he ground out, "I'm sorry. You just pissed me off with that old nickname. I lost my cool."

What? Wukong was sure he was still asleep at this point. Mac, wanting to help? And apologizing? Not possible.

He was going to promptly ignore whatever development that was.

"Why and how would you ever help me? With anything. Ever," he crossed his arms, tail flicking anxiously.

Dodging any and all of the implications from that statement, Macaque smirked, "Well I have an idea. But you'll have to extend some trust to me your majesty," he saw the doubt in Wukongs face and continued, "Its something we did as kids."

Well. Wukong couldn't think of anything they did as kids that was harmful. And he was so, so, tired.

"Fine," he decided. Was this a terrible mistake leading to his demise? Probably.

"I knew you'd come to your senses sometime, Wukong," underneath macaques laid-back persona he was really excited, "Just lay back down and let me work my magic."

So here Monkey King sat, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, in a bunk on an airship, weaker than he ever had been, and with his childhood friend turned mortal enemy clambering on top of him to supposedly help him with nightmares. He hadn't felt this ridiculous in a while.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop," Macaque looked down at Wukong, "I will. I promise."

Wukongs distrustful eyes continued to follow Macs every movement, watching as his hands lowered towards the Monkey Kings ears.

"What're you do-" as Macaque started fluttering his fingers around the shell of Wukongs ear, suddenly everything relaxed. "Oh," he breathed out.

The tight coil of his irritation, anxiety, and stubbornness was being loosened and replaced with butterflies in his stomach and the urge to titter.

Despicable.

Macaque let out a snicker "Damn Wukong, I guess we called it your 'melt spot' for a reason. I forgot how much you like this," he smirked, testing the waters for teasing most likely. Suprised by the lack of verbal response on Wukongs end he continued, "You dont have anything to say about that?"

No Wukong did not. I mean think of what it looked like! Here he was desperately fighting a dorky smile off his face, squirming, and holding onto Macs wrists uselessly. And by the feeling of his face he was probably blushing too. Gods. He hadn't blushed in literally two hundred years.

So no. He had no comment. He just clamped his mouth shut and turned his head to the side so he didnt have to look at Macaques stupid smirking face.

"Wow. Never thought I'd see you speechless," he started with a grin and let it drop, "But you cant just leave me out to dry now Wukong! Laugh! Smile! Something!"

He was met only with silence and a then a shake of the head. Mac was too impatient for this. In his attempt to help he had apparently made Wukong take some kind of vow of silence or some shit. A playful one, but still annoying.

He knew Wukong liked having his ears touched, but Mac was getting bored. So he let his hands inch down to the other monkeys ribs and just lightly scratch scratch at the skin there. Giving a little pinch to his bottom rib for good measure, and being rewarded with actual laughter!

"Glad to see you're not a corpse."

"Eep! Mahac nohoho..." Wukong giggled out protest half heartedly and somewhat sleepily. Seems like now that he was a little more relaxed the lack of sleep was catching up with him. Macaque couldn't help but let out a snort at that. "Yeah you sound real torn up about it, bud. And was that an 'Eep'? Seriously?" he chuckled out.

"Shuhut ihit! Ihihit wahahsnt!" Wukong denied through his bubbling laughter, and being flustered made things tickle more, and thinking about that made him more flustered so he was sort of stuck here. And Macaque was barely even teasing him at all.

But this was kind of...nice? He hadn't felt this relaxed and, well, safe in a long time. And it was just so easy to sink into that feeling. Let someone else take care of things for once. Even if he didnt really deserve it.

"So you're telling me I can make Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong, squeak like a little mouse if I just do this?" he teased, giving Wukongs ribs another pinch.

And he was rewarded with another little squeak.

"Eep! Ohohoh mhyhy gohohod! Ihihim nhohot a mouhououse! Ihi- Ihih- Ihih!" Wukong decided to give up on talking and just fling his hands onto his face.

"Wow, you are really get worked up about this huh? Well, the goal was to make you relax, not die so I'll lay off a little bit. Chill."

Even though it's really cute.

Aaand why was Wukong looking at him like that. Oh. Oh you gotta be kidding. He accidentally said that out loud?

He looked at Monkey King, who had lowered his hands and was just. Staring.

Yeah he accidentally said that out loud. Shit shit shit. "Eheh. Sorry, I promise I'll lay off now," the black furred monkey said, ignoring the warmth growing on his own face.

In an attempt to distract from his little blunder, he brought his hands down to Wukongs stomach and lightly scribbled there.

And once again Monkey King was lost in giggles and titters and now he was actually feeling really sleepy.

"Feeling tired?" Macaque asked, seeing his companions blinks becoming slower and his giggles quieting down a little.

"Mmheheheh...nohoho," immediately followed by a yawn.

Macaque hadn't seen this side of Sun Wukong in a long time. He was childish, but never this way. He honestly looked more like some kind of puppy or cat than a monkey at this point. He knew it was just because of how incredibly sleep deprived Wukong was right now though. It was honestly kind of bittersweet, reminding him of all that he lost after he was left behind. Even though he was trying to fix things, he knew it would never be the same.

Suddenly he was pulled out of his thoughts by a steady thump thump thump on the bedsheets.

Wukongs tail was wagging.

He felt an involuntary grin spreading across his face at the sight.

Wukong was asleep, tail wagging, taking deep, slow breaths, with a smile on his face.

Macaque took in the result of his hard work and was about to dip into one of the shadows to get off of the sleeping monkey without waking him up when he felt a tug on his arm.

"Mmmno. Stay," he mumbled sleepily.

"Uuhm. I don't know if that's such a good idea Wukong...Woah!" Macaque yelped as he was tugged down to a laying position on the bed, monkey king wrapped around him like some kind of monkey-koala hybrid. "You're stayin," the other monkeys voice was distorted both from sleepiness and the fact that his face was mushed up against Macaques shoulder.

Oh well. They would figure everything out in the morning. For now, macaque would let himself enjoy the warm feeling nestling in his chest and climbing up his cheeks, while it lasted.

" ...don't hate you Mango," he heard murmered as he fell asleep.

"I dont hate you either, Peaches," he whispered back.

#tickle fic #tickle #tickle community #lego monkie kid #lee!Sun Wukong #Lee! Sun Wukong #lee!sun wukong #Lee! Monkey King #lee!monkey king #Ler! Macaque #ler!macaque #lmk tickle #lego monkie kid tickle #legomonkiekid tickle #legomonkiekid tk #fluffy

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babbushka · 4 years ago

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April 2021 Fic Recap

Hello everyone and welcome to May! I can't believe April flew by so quickly, but you know what that means -- it's time for the monthly recap!

I've gotten quite a few new friends this month, so for the folks just joining me here, I take the first couple days of the month to compile all the writing, headcanons, general thots and discussions about AUs into one post. I also take this time to update my writing masterlist!

Some housekeeping:

If you’d like to be added to my taglist for future writing uploads, please click here!

If you’d like to see my complete collection of works, please visit my Masterlist here!

If you’re new to the blog, I invite you to please read through my FAQ!

I also upload all my chapter fics and oneshots to my archiveofourown account which you can find here!

Now, on to the recap!

Chapter Fic Updates

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch2)** ; Lawyer AU Kylo Ren x Reader

Beyond Reasonable Doubt (ch3)**; Lawyer AU Kylo Ren x Reader

Oneshots

Dinner & A Show**; Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Watch Dog**; Mob AU Kylo Ren x Reader

Day 535**; Flip Zimmerman x Reader x Kylo Ren

Character Headcanons

Henry McHenry being the leader of a cult lol

Ancient Emperor Kylo doting on you while you're pregnant

Ancient Emperor Kylo fucking you during a senate meeting*

Ancient Emperor Kylo lavishing you with attention*

Ancient Emperor Kylo being jealous

Flip Zimmerman comforting his wife

Flip Zimmerman arguing with his wife

Flip Zimmerman boxing in an underground fight club

Flip Zimmerman being subby despite looking like a dom*

Flip Zimmerman being possessive and protective over you

Flip Zimmerman loving fucking you in his office*

SL Kylo Ren loving to eat pussy*

Charlie Barber being touch starved*

Clyde Logan being the perfect representation of Summer

Edwardian Duke Lord Ren doting on Lady Ren during her pregnancy

Edwardian Duke Lord Ren's estate he builds for Lady Ren

Edwardian Duke Lord Ren's estate budget estimates

Edwardian Duchess Lady Ren's daily schedule*

Edwardian Duchess Lord Ren giving Lady Ren expensive Hanukkah gifts

Character Imagines

Flip Zimmerman

Young Flip taking you on a romantic date in the park ***

Flip eating you out for breakfast before his coffee**

Flip teaching you how to drive (it's a disatser)

Flip being stupidly in love with his wife

Kylo Ren

Mob Kylo reuniting after a short amount of time

Lawyer Kylo kissing you in the rain

Discussions about the Edwardian Duke!Kylo Ren x Duchess!Reader AU

Lord Ren's primary sources of income

Lord Ren being scandalously open with PDA

Lord Ren loving how Lady Ren's body changes during pregnancy

Lord & Lady Ren having all male heirs

Lord & Lady Ren's sons ages

Lord & Lady Ren's titles

Lord & Lady Ren's sons and their titles

The children's titles pt 2

Lord & Lady Ren's sons' education

Lord & Lady Ren's being helicopter parents lol

Lady Ren being the Princess of the house and being doted on by her husband and sons

Lord & Lady Ren giving expensive party favors

Lord Ren having a deal with the cops to ignore complaints lol

Lord Ren being present for his sons the way his father never was for him

Lady Ren being spoiled and rich lol

Lady Ren wearing royal jewelry given to her by Queen Padme of Naboo

Queen Padme & Prince Anakin loving their great-grandchildren

Lord Ren being rich and wanting to spoil his family lol

Lord Ren's eldest son's first birthday

Lord & Lady Ren being emotional over their eldest son's birthday

Lady Ren only wearing the finest bespoke clothing

Lord Ren taking Anthony out for drives in the fancy new automobiles when he's old enough

Lord & Lady Ren being big into fox and game hunting

Lord Ren watching Lady Ren get ready for a state dinner*

The fancy parties Lord & Lady Ren throw

The children attending fancy parties

Cool features at the estate

Lord Ren being a stuffy old man lol

How they deal with the Great Depression

Anthony volunteering for WW2 to beat the shit out of n*zis pt 1

Anthony beating the shit out of n*zis in WW2 pt 2ada

The total wordcount for the month of April clocks in at: 37,021

I'm so grateful for every single one of you here who read, share, comment, or in any other way interact with me and my writing! You're all so wonderful, and I hope that May treats us all kindly!

#flip zimmerman #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #clyde logan x reader #charlie barber x reader #henry mchenry x reader #adam driver fanfic #adcu #april fic recap #kylo ren/reader #flip zimmerman/reader

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lilyrachelcassidy · 3 years ago

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Birthday Cake

A/N: Suprise folks!!! *me laughing maniacally* The whole scenery for this fic somehow appeared in my head and I just COULDN’T let it slip away, so... My biggest inspo for that was @drawlfoy!! Remember her posting the fic where Draco and Reader work at McDonald’s and are total suckers in their job (arguing with the customers; preparing wrong orders; etc.)? Dee unfortunately, deleted this precious, but it’s stuck to my head ever since (lol lol, it’s the moment where Dee wants to get rid of something, but I kindly remind everyone it existed). Therefore I present to you the next Draco x Reader fic related to our fav fast-food rest. This time, however, they’re not working at the same workplace but... I'm going to stop here cuz I don't want to spoiler :P

**The second thing that triggered me to write this fic is the YouTube video I recently saw with a lady who orders the 'specials' appearing to be out of the menu list of McDonald’s, through the Drive-Through. She asked for a birthday cake, was laughed at a few times, but eventually got what she wanted. Applause for the attitude!!

About the fic (context, my bitches): ofc it’s the modern AU, non-magical world. Draco’s the worst boyfriend ever but always manages to turn things into their righteous place.

Summary: The birthday is upcoming, and Draco is in a rush to think up an idea for a perfect gift. His ingenuity fails, however, and leaves Y/N very unsatisfied with a disaster that has been forged.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: my brain playing a total psycho, language, alcohol, sexual undertones/allusions to sex, Pansy being too much of her self... deal...

Tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Such an unrestrained desire to strangle somebody you hadn't felt in a long time.

Really.

Today was your birthday, which you had been widely announcing for almost a whole month to people you might have accidentally forgotten about it. Having your boyfriend, Draco, on your mind in particular.

You doubted he would have the guts to omit your big day, though as repeatedly as he had done for a few years back. But something between foresight and the second sense of prevention told you to keep reminding him every day of the upcoming event, with a heap of birthday-themed emojis and uppercases in the messages.

Everything was planned out in your head: him picking you up from your house with the sharp-red cabriolet that he used only for special occasions; him driving the two of you to the fanciest restaurant he could find in town; him bestowing you with a nice-looking, golden necklace or a different piece of jewelry you had been suggestively pointing out in the store's exhibition; him booking up a hotel room for you two to celebrate.

Either way, that was much beyond your expectations, as it turned out. And now you were sitting in the front yard of your house, waiting for him to show up.

'If he was going to at all.' This thought invaded your mind for the last hour, try as might to subdue it. An hour you had been sitting tight, hoping it was only a delay caused by a traffic jam or other irrational explanation he could come up with. But you were deceiving yourself, you eventually presumed -- you had been checking up your phone every one minute, only to see if any message notification popped up on the screen, other than birthday wishes from friends who actually cared for you.

2.02pm: Nothing.

2.03pm: Susan 'Happy birthday bitch!'

2.04pm: Instagram notif. (Someone liked your photo, which you had posted before leaving your room, posing in front of the mirror in the best cocktail dress you could find in the wardrobe.)

2.05pm: Nothing yet again.

2.06pm: Still... Peace and quiet.

"Fuck it...Enough," you muttered under your breath, an annoying disillusionment falling like a heavy mile stone on your chest. Tears suddenly started sprinkling in your eyes at the regret, and you were very reluctant to admit that your friends were right -- Draco Malfoy was an egoistic, negligent, self-absorbed pri--

"Hi." You heard the raspy, panting voice says. "Sorry for the delay."

You blinked slowly, stupidly. You raised your head to assure yourself it was him. That his expression actually corresponded to his words and showed some kind of remorse for standing you up. But no... There he was: standing in front of you, plainly confident and unashamed, with his cocky smirk provoking you to slap him.

Oh, how much you craved to slap him right now. "Where to the fuck have you been?"

"I've tried to pick this up," he explained, simultaneously lifting up the paper bag he'd been carrying in his hand. The big, exclaiming letters 'McDonald's' with the brand's logo were printed on its exterior, and it was fully stuffed with something inside.

Not quite comprehending, you furrowed. You attempted to hide the venom in your voice, but somehow it found its way to leak out. "Couldn't you do that in advance?"

"Nope..." It was his turn to furrow, looking almost shocked with the question. And thanks to all those years of your relationship, you knew it was his piss-poor estimation of time taking over. "It was a last-minute surprise."

"Sounds like it," you commented irritably. "What's that?"

"Your birthday present, sunshine," he drawled happily, ignoring your remark. He sounded positively delighted and satisfied with himself at surprising you with that because he saw a slight crease of shock painting on your forehead. "Here you go."

You took his deposit out of his grasp, still quite unsure. What if his gift would only make a situation worse? Can it get any worse with Draco's total lack of tact? Yes. But it was only one way to find out.

Without even stealing a second glance at him, you ripped off all of the packaging that had been folded around, protecting the contents. You tried to do it carefully and without any impact of emotions revealing the way you felt inside, but your hands were shaking with rage, and you couldn't quite contain yourself. You had been highly aware you shouldn't have expected much from him, but still...

You wondered if the universe was playing against you.

There was a moment of tense silence as you struggled to deal with all the wrappings. Rather unfortunately, you wished you hadn't put so much effort in opening your so-called 'gift' because as you finally did, it only angered you more, seeing as the disappointment laughs at your face. And yes, as a matter of fact, the universe was against you today...

"Are you kidding me?" you asked in disbelief, fury reappearing in your eyes. "A birthday cake?! From McDonald's?" Ugly, little cake with the creepiest smiley face of a clown. It wasn't even fresh, you realized, when you smelled it and felt a musty reek of a freezer, it probably had been kept in. A confusing sense of sadness in your chest couldn't reach any higher at this point.

"Don't you like it?" he asked, detecting the wrath in your eyes. At that, you felt the dumbest urge to laugh and never stop. "I thought it'd be something original."

"Oh, I love it," you said sarcastically, a faint voice of hope telling you it was only a very bad joke was still lingering in your head. But it wasn't a joke.

"It's not just--" He struggled to form a coherent sentence. "I've been asking Blaise and Theo about any ideas. I told them, what you had said to me -- 'you didn't want anything fancy.' So we decided it's... something."

"Of course I didn't tell you I want anything, you dolt!" Your voice raised up almost two octaves, and the pulse sped up so fast it entailed a headache along. A neighbor from the opposite garden who was watering the flowers looked at you, startled, and eyes widened your exasperated tone. You didn’t care. "It's how it works: you don't tell other people you expect them to buy something!"

"But I'm your boyfriend. You shouldn't -- er-- feel uncomfortable to tell..."

"Exactly! As my boyfriend, you should have known!"

"Well... I didn't. If that's what's bothering you, we can...we can..."

"Stop." Listening to him and his pathetic excuses was the last thing you were going to do now. "What – why would you even – " You sputtered out, unable to process or express exactly what you were feeling. There was definitely anger and indignation. Curiosity, for another, as to why Draco would even fall for such foolish and ill-considered idea, and -- to the top of it -- hope it would make a good fit. And possibly, the last and most satisfying part, was the wicked impulse to throw the cake directly into his arrogant face, letting him taste his own medicine he had been serving you for years on each failed birthday.

"You know, for once, you could pay more effort and try doing something nice for me," you told him firmly, deflating to calm down your buzzing nerves.

"I've been tr--"

"Do you realize how much it costs me to pretend to be happy when you forget about me? Last year, I organized a big-ass party for your birthday, inviting over all of your friends and buying the best booze I could find to celebrate it properly," you said harshly and pretentiously, as you intended. "The best part is, you didn't even thank me." You stared at him, wringing your hands and expecting to perceive any trope of shame in his eyes. For the first time, you actually did.

"Listen, about that--" he calmly attempted to cut off your monologue.

"No, you listen..." Did you really want what was upcoming next? Maybe it was about time. "Today, I decided I'm standing up for myself. So, for the last time, get out from my porch."

He bristled, the thunderstruck air hanging around him. "Because of the stupid cake?"

"What?! No! It's just... I feel like you don't give a damn about me anymore." Gulp formed in your throat, and the tears finally left your eyes at the consciousness of what was happening. "I think we both deserve some time."

Your eyes moved to his, and you almost wished you hadn't looked. He was watching you, with pursed lips and a pure mixture of every emotion: anger, sadness, resentment, pretension, dejection. The faintest of his flustered blushes appeared on his cheeks, and you suddenly wished you could hug him. "So you are putting us..." His finger pointed at him and you as if expecting clarification. "...on a break? Is that what it is?"

You were truly torn, to be honest. Becoming single on your birthday was the last wish you had for this day, but you felt a strong sense of adequacy and pride for building up the boundaries of tolerance. Besides, seeing as it was heading nowhere, it was only a matter of time that your relationship came to an end.

Although, it hurt. A lot. "Yes."

You darted your eyes from him, not wanting to study his reaction in case it caused you to meltdown and jump to his embrace, apologizing endlessly for your words. You loved him. But you didn't regret what you had just said.

Something like a dry chuckle of disbelief escaped out of his mouth. "Is that what you really want?"

'No,' your thoughts prompted you instantly before you could even contemplate. 'I want you to say so many things you're never willing to say. But you don't know.'

So instead, you lied: "Yes."

All expressed, you spun around without peeking back and rushed into your room, already knowing there was no more sense in strives to make this day any better; all of it would bring only bad associations. It would be depressing, even more than it already was.

God, was it how the break-up pained? Because if so, you wanted to be deceased. The world spun suddenly, and you sank to your knees, shaking madly and doing your best to find your way back to your bed, located a few mere meters from you. Part of you felt numb, but your head was wide awake and alarming you that something in terms of a disaster had just happened. Because it did. The clutching in your chest was unbearable, and tears were dashing out of your eyes like a living waterfall, which made you bury your face in your hands. Never have you ever wanted to be so drunk before.

And so many questions rung up in your head at once.

Did you make a good decision? What if you are going to miss him, yet knowing you could never call? What about college -- are things about to get awkward?

No answers.

But you knew someone who would be able to reply to them.

With the blurred by tears vision, you struggled but managed to find your phone in the purse, and then clumsily scrolled through and tapped in your list of contacts before holding the phone to your ear.

Please answer, you begged. Please, please…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Pansy's voice roared from the other side of a line, as always, enthusiastic.

"Pansy." You tried to sound less brokenly than you were, feeling marginally worse at the reminder of your birthday. "Is Daphne around?"

"Ouch, you're a really nasty bitch sometimes, you know. I'm not goin' to point out today, but since you didn't let me end my wishes, I'll note that for the future reference." You were sure she was grinning at the teasing, seeing as much as she liked that. Normally, you wouldn't mind, but... "How--"

"Pansy, please..." you sobbed out, almost desperate to have someone to consult and share emotions with. Daphne -- contrary to Pansy, who could be very judgy sometimes -- was someone you had especially on mind now. "I need to talk to her."

You heard her sigh; the kind of sigh she used to either prove her resignation or concern. But, as much as it surprised you, she suppressed her curiosity and, without a second word, obediently handed the phone over to Daphne. At least, that's what you assumed because you heard a pause and subdued mutters in the background.

"Y/N?" the milder tone spoke up, and you felt suddenly very strange as if submerged in water of relief; relief to hear the familiar voice. That released you from keeping a distant attitude, and yet again, a sadness washed over you, triggering a loud wail to come out of your mouth. "Y/N, is everything alright?"

"No..." you sniveled, unable to collect yourself together. "I-I... We br-brok-e up."

"You and Draco?" Daphne asked, astonishment evident.

You nodded but then remembered she couldn't see you nor read your expression. So instead, you forced your vocal cords to work again. "Mhm..."

"What happened?"

Restoring the story in your brain again, you told her everything, still tearfully but much more coherently this time. You avoided the details, briefly skipping from one utterance to another, as your conversations had gone, and you were very much thankful she didn't press for more information about the prospect of the situation. If it hadn't been her sporadic gasps or loud inhales of breath, you would have almost presumed she wasn't listening. However, she was, and as soon turned out, Pansy was as well.

"That's bananas!" Pansy shouted somewhere from the back as you had ended, and despite your gloom, you giggled quietly at her comment.

"Shush," Daphne tried to silence her, covering up the fact she had put you on the speaker. You didn't mind because you knew Pansy, who would definitely expect Daphne to cite the whole conversation if needed. But knowing Daphne as well, you could bet she flushed more than she would want to at that point. "So it all started because of the cake?"

"And the delay," you added. "But it's not just about that, obviously. It feels like... he completely stopped caring. And I don't want to be stuck in a relationship where everything is about sex and having fun only. Draco wasn't looking for a commitment, which..."

"Sucks,"ended this time Pansy unhesitatingly, who wasn't now screaming from the other part of a room but openly participating in the discussion.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"As for me, I think he might love you more than you know, Y/N." It was Daphne talking again, and she sounded positively convinced about her view as for someone who had hardly exchanged any word with Draco for the past few years. As if reading your thoughts, she continued. "I've observed you a lot. I know he might seem unemotional, but it's you who discovered him. That must require a lot of trust, you know."

You contemplated, and some of the memories and images from your first encounter run across your brain, try as might to suppress it: spotting each other at the party; binging some whisky shots together; flirty teasing; the very masculine scent of cologne; and then... more spicy recollections -- eager lips pressing against each other; against each others' necks; against other parts of the body; stripping off the clothes in the passionate haste...

Receiving a long moment of silence, Daphne took a second chance and asked. "And what's with you? Do you want to end it?"

It felt like standing before the oracle of truth. Therefore, you couldn't deny it in front of yourself. "No."

"So what're you still doing there?" commented Pansy impatiently, and you could imagine her rolling the eyes. "Get out and find him!"

She was right. You will.

XOXOXOXO

"I thought I'd find you here..."

No. Actually, you didn't.

You had tracked Draco's phone with your own one with some help of an app that, as the two of you had established still in the relationship, would be a good idea in case of an emergency. That in itself proved to be more than helpful, believing that your argument may be pinned as something in terms of an emergency, right?

So having access to his location, you had found out he was in the park where he had taken you on the first date, shortly after dinner, to watch the sunset that, as he had described, 'was a typical cliche from every romantic movie.'

But you had fallen for that. So much.

You hadn't been aware the place had actually some meaning for him until now, and that... God, that he had even remembered it. Time showed, however, that it indeed did, to which your heart reacted with a happy jolting. But also with a nasty sting of nostalgia following shortly after.

Yet, that only had encouraged you to make up your mind and go looking for him, which hadn't been such a difficult task per se. He was sitting on the bench, in the shade of a tree, and hiding his a little too delicate skin from the sun rays. As soon as he had heard your voice, his gray eyes flew up to see you standing a few meters away.

"What are you doing here?" was the immediate question that tumbled out of his mouth. He arched his eyebrow, and to your surprise, he didn't even look angry or sad with you. Nothing near the edge; actually, almost something like the amusement was painting on his face.

"Aren't you mad with me?" you asked intrigued, completely forgetting about his question.

He frowned. "Why would I be?" His tone was so mild that you weren't sure if he was referring to the double meaning; but then he smirked playfully and said, "Besides, I knew you were coming."

"Wha-- How?" you asked, eyes dilating a fraction, in shock.

He smirked, pointing at his phone in an explanatory manner. After a moment, you finally figured out what he meant: the app must have registered he had been tracked and that your phone was trying to find his. At this notice, you reacted with a wave of flush, suddenly regretting your previous lie. His smile only widened at your expression. "Wanna sit? It's plenty of room here."

"Mhm..." You nodded, pleased to accept his offer, and walked over to the bench, doing your best to hide the evident embarrassment on your face. You felt strange he had taken you with such ease, seeing as merely two or three hours ago, you had burst at him like a cram-full volcano of unspoken emotions.

Draco shifted a package from his side, making more space for you to sit, and it took you a moment to realize it was a McDonald's cake from earlier. Everything started from that -- a stupid, little piece of cake which stood up between...

You shook the thought away, taking a seat next to him, close enough to smell his sandalwood cologne. "You didn't answer my question," Draco reminded you. "What's so important to make you track my phone?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" You rounded your face to him, flustrated, leaning at the backrest of a bench. "That's why I came. I wanted to apologize."

"Oh... Couldn't you call?"

You sighed. "I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me after...you know... our quarrel," you said half-despondent, half-desperate, watching your feet as if it were the most interesting thing to peer at now. "I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know," he said. Out of nowhere, he was gently grasping your palms which forced you to look up directly into his intense gaze. His eyes were swirling like molten silver at you. "But I should be apologizing, love. I made a mistake, okay?" His hands traveled all across to your tense shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "I know I should be more... affectionate with you. And this was...dumb. A dumb mistake. With that cake. But I'll try to be better if you give it another shot."

He looked so serious that you instantly believed him. You wanted to actually, with all force of longing, which grew up too rapidly in you when he wasn't around. Draco was a fool, you could easily say. But he was your fool, which was a thing you couldn't be more proud of.

Peeking slowly in the other direction, you asked, out of the topic, "You remembered the place?"

"Of course," he puffed jokingly, smiling. "Our first date. Officially our place from then on."

"Right..." You smiled back.

Honestly, the mere fact that he had called this spot 'yours' warmed up your heart, and you felt yourself grinning at his never-before-discovered emotionality. To assure yourself you weren't the only one caring, it was all you needed to hear.

The whole moment was intense, and now, you realized, is when you should have hugged him. Kissed him. Said something back at his sincere endearment.

But instead, spotting plastic cutlery next to your 'gift', you asked, "So what's the taste of the birthday cake?"

And you knew he had caught the subtext of your playful inquiry. And you knew that soon you would work things out again. But, as for now...

"I thought you would never ask."

XOXOXOXO

A/N: Looooooool. Such a drama-comedy, right? And I could easily say It feels like 50% Draco-x-Reader / 50% Draco-x-BirthdayCake... But whatever (2am is working like a drunken bud, folks). Happy beginning of August :)

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persepholline · 3 years ago

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I've read that article about the romanticization of the Darkling and while I absolutely understand people who are pissed off/sad and I agree that it's shitty, I find LB's attitude towards Darkles stans very funny in a "girl what are you doing" sort of way because it's so petty like I've never heard of a bestselling author writing a portion of their fans into their books as a crazy cult before, it clearly hit a nerve

I'm new to the fandom but the feeling I get is she wrote something problematic ten years ago and became very embarrassed about it afterwards so she turned on the fans that liked it as a way to absolve herself. Especially since fandoms in general have become a lot more focused on discussion of what constitutes healthy/acceptable relationships to write about. And in a way I get it I had a huge Twilight phase in high school and afterwards I was super embarassed about it because of how problematic and cringe it was. But now with distance and more maturity I'm able to both still see why it was problematic and also why I was drawn to it (mostly the very unhinged representation of female desire) and like...it's really not the end of the world and no it never made me believe that breaking into somebody's room at night to watch them sleep was actually ok in real life lmao. This feels so obvious to me but apparently it needs to be said.

(More under the break this is turning into an essay, I've been thinking of this a lot recently)

And of course it's good to have these discussions about how historically romance tropes have echoed social dynamics of men's shitty behavior being romanticized and excused. But these days they often are so simplistic and focused on chasing clout that they become this weird new puritanism and moral panic about oh now women are reading novels it's going to make them hysterical or something

So you have these weird assumptions that you can't like a character and also be critical of their actions, or enjoy certain parts of a character and not others, or wish they were written differently and like them more for their potential (which I'm sure stings a bit for an author lol) - it assumes that if you like a character it means you would approve of their actions in real life, or that people just stupidly reproduce whatever they see on TV. That tendency to treat fictional characters like real people is the thing that actually worries me, to be honest, because it indicates a lack of distance and critical capacities regarding how stories are used and received. But people - fans and authors - are so scared of being called out as problematic and harassed for it that they're going to shy away from any nuance.

And yeah I think that it's good that standards of what constitutes an ideal relationship are evolving and becoming more feminist and communicative and all that and we definitely need more of that. But not all fiction has to be aspirational! Sometimes you just want to read about fucked up shit, because it's cathartic or fascinating, even healing at times because with fiction you are absolutely in control and can choose when to close the book. Toxic relationships in fiction can have an appeal specifically because they go to extremes of feeling that we don't want to go to in reality, in exactly the same way as horror movies or very violent action movies - which I don't see a lot of people besides fundamentalist Christians argue that they turn you into violent psychopaths (and that feels very obviously sexist). And for women, who are often taught growing up that love is the purpose of life, the "saving someone with your ability to love" can be a power fantasy in the same way that being a buff superhero who saves the day with their capacity for incredible violence can be a power fantasy for men. Still doesn't mean those women are going to fall in love with actual murderers or that those men are going to start beating up people at night. And love is scary, and weird, and weirdly close to horror at times, with all the potential for loss of self and being vulnerable and overwhelming feelings and potential for being horribly hurt and it should be possible for stories to explore that without anybody screaming about how this is going to Corrupt the Youth or something

And I mean I get it LB wanted to write a cautionary tale for teenagers, but it just did not work for reasons a lot of people have already written about - the fact that the Darkling is the leader of an oppressed minority and is the only one with a real political agenda to end that oppression in the first trilogy, the fact that he helps Alina come into her own power while her endgame LI is someone she keeps herself small for, that she's shamed for wanting power after growing up without any, a generally very wonky conception of privilege, and a lot of other stuff with yucky regressive implications to the point where stanning the villain actually feels liberating and empowering which is a surefire sign that the narrative is broken (unless it's a villain focused story lmao). But of course that Fanside article makes almost no mention of the political dynamics, it's all about interpersonal stuff which is an annoying trend in YA, there are those massive events happening in the background but it's made all about the feelings of the hero(ine) ; war as a self-development quest (which is kind of gross). Helnik is kind of an example of this too - I like them, I think they're fun ! But Matthias spends a big part of the story wanting to brutally murder Nina and her kind, and he mostly changes his mind because he finds her hot. Like you don't feel there is some sort of big revelation that his entire moral system and political framework is completely rotten ; it's all better because of feelings now.

As a teenager that kind of sanctimonious bullshit would have annoyed the hell out of me ; I read those books in my early twenties and I found the ending so stupid I wouldn't have trusted any message or life lessons coming from them. And I liked reading/watching dark stuff as a teenager, as a way to deal with the very intense inner turmoil I was dealing with - and I turned out fine ! Meanwhile I've seen several times women in very shitty relationships being obsessed with positive energies and stories ; they were so terrified of their life not being perfectly wholesome they ended up being delusional about their own situations.

Like personally I think the Darkling is a compelling, interesting, alluring character and also a manipulative, murderous piece of shit and that Alina should get to punish him (like in a sexy way) - but he's also the end result of centuries of war, oppression and trauma and reducing that to "toxic wounded boy" feels kind of offensive ngl ESPECIALLY since the books don't offer any kind of systemic analysis or response to oppression beyond "the bad guy should die" and "now the king/queen is a good guy our problems are solved!!!!"

In Lives of the Saints, we see how Yuri is abused extremely badly and almost killed by his father, and so when his father dies when the Fold swallows Novokribirsk, he thinks the Starless Saint has saved him. Later in KoS/RoW he's turned into this fanatic who explains away all the Darkling's crimes. The other followers talk about how the Starless Saint will bring equality for all men. Then the Darkling comes back and actually thinks his followers are pathetic, which feels again like a very pointed message to his IRL stans. Which is absolutely hilarious to me. Like oh no, if he was real he would not like you and think you're pathetic ! Yeah ...but he's not. Real. Damn right he would not like the fics where Alina puts him on a leash. I'm still going to read them. What is he going to do about it, jump out of the page ? Jfjfjjdhfgfjfj

Anyway I think the intended message is "assholes will use noble political causes for their own gain and to manipulate people" and "being abused/oppressed is not an excuse to behave badly." Which. Sure. But that's kind of like...a tired take, honestly ? A big number of villains nowadays are like this ; either they've been bullied as kids, or they're part of an oppressed group, or they have "good ideals but too extreme". This is not surprising because a lot of mainstream heroic narratives present clinging to the status quo as Good and change as chaotic and dangerous. And like sure in real life people often do bad shit because they're wounded and in danger. But if you want to do a story like that, you have to do it with nuance, talk about cycles of violence, about how society creates vulnerable people to be exploited, about how privilege gives you more choices and the luxury of morals, etc. The Grishaverse does not have this level of nuance (maybe in SoC a little bit but definitely not in TGT). So it kind of comes off as "trauma makes you evil" and "egalitarianism is dangerous" and "if you're abused/oppressed you're not allowed to fight back". And ignores the fact that historically, evil generally comes from unchecked privilege.

I guess my point is that there are many things I like about LB's writing, she knows how to create these really exciting character dynamics, and the world she has created is fascinating. But these stories are not a great starting point for imparting moral lessons. And her best characters tend to be, at least in canon, the morally grey ones. I hope one day she'll be at peace with the fact that she wrote the Darkling the way she did and leave his fans alone but in the meantime I'm just not going to take this whole thing seriously I'm sorry

#darklina #the darkling #alina starkov #aleksander morozova

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sunsetcurvecuddles · 4 years ago

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Hello you told me not to hold back so I’m gonna be ANNOYING feel free to ignore indefinitely until you’re feeling it but I’m gonna send you like a bunch of prompts cause I can’t sleep and am stalling finishing my own fic.

First one: Bobby (obviously), Reggie or Luke or friends I don’t even care, tea and blankets

lol hi have a rebuke cuddle-puddle disaster, also available on ao3 here. warning for swearing and very vague allusions to physical child abuse.

i guess we belong to each other | reggielukebobby | 1.8k words

Luke has his guitar in his lap and his writing notebook by his side even though it's late at night. He's playing his acoustic, so that he has no chance of stirring Bobby's parents from where he's sat in their studio, and though he'd never admit it to anyone, it's cold enough that he's found one of Alex's hoodies in the back of the studio, a black one Alex never wears any more, and he's bundled up in it to try to fight off the chills. He regrets storming out earlier this evening — not because his parents might be worried, he's still too mad at them for that, but because he misses his own warm bed in a house with central heating.

But it's late, and he doesn't want to bother Bobby, who's already been generous enough as it is (and is exceptionally grumpy when he's woken in the middle of the night). So Alex's old hoodie, smelling vaguely of the dusty studio and distantly of Alex, will have to do.

A noise distracts Luke from his writing. Something outside the studio, maybe an animal, but it sounded like footsteps. Cautiously, he draws his guitar closer, running through what he could say if it's Bobby's parents, his heart suddenly rabbit-fast in his chest.

A head pokes through the door.

Luke's shoulders drop with relief.

It's Reggie.

He looks a little scruffy, not like himself, because usually Reggie pays such close attention to his appearance, fusses over his hair and colour-codes his outfits and shaves with the precision of a professional painter. But he kinda looks messy, which makes Luke's stomach feel even colder than the air around him.

“Oh! Hey, man,” Reggie laughs, putting on a big smile, and it'd fool anyone else — Reggie's too experienced at this for his own good. “I didn't know you'd be here!”

“Hi, Reg,” says Luke, sounding a little distracted even to his own ears as he carefully looks Reggie over. He's not walking like he's been hurt, and there are no visible injuries. So that's something. Jesus, Luke wouldn't know what to do if Reggie turned up here with a fresh version of the bruises Luke sometimes catches him trying to hide. “You, uh — you good?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Reggie agrees easily, saunters into the studio and slumps down on the couch next to Luke. The relaxed way he moves soothes Luke's worry somewhat. “The house was just — ugh. You know how they can be.” Looking over at Luke, Reggie adds, “Hey, isn't that Alex's hoodie? I was wondering what had happened to that.”

“Hey!” Luke sputters, a little defensive. “He didn't, like, loan it to me or anything, it was just here! I found it.”

“It is cold,” Reggie concedes, pulling his flannel a little tighter around him. “Wish I'd brought my jacket, but it was in the kitchen and I didn't wanna. I dunno. Didn't wanna get in the way.”

Luke nods, puts his guitar to the side so he can press up against Reggie's side. Hip to hip, his cheek on Reggie's shoulder, links their ankles together and puts an arm over Reggie's stomach. Almost automatically, Reggie links his arms around Luke in turn.

Honestly, Luke was intending to steal some of Reggie's body heat, but after Reggie's walk outside and in such a thin layer, he thinks Reggie's probably leeching his own. Luke lets him go ahead; Reggie seems to need it more than he does.

They sit for a moment, both unusually quiet, huddling and not talking. Not so much for a lack of things to talk about, but more because any topic that comes to Luke's mind feels insurmountably complex and emotional. There’s so much stuff he can't tell Reggie — so much stuff Reggie isn't telling him. So they sit together and try to create some warmth without the need for disclosure.

Until there's another set of scuffled footsteps outside.

“Not Alex too,” Reggie sighs, at a whispered volume so that the newcomer can't hear him, “he squirms so much in his sleep, man, I can't share this pull-out with him again.”

Luke muffles a laugh with the back of his hand, but he can't help worry it's Alex, too. Things have been... okay, he thinks, with Alex's folks since he came out, but he also knows Alex hoped for better. Suspects there are things Alex isn't telling them (so they all have that in common).

But it's not Alex. Preceded by an armful of blankets that he's almost tripping on, Bobby staggers in, still in his pajamas and with his eyes almost all the way closed. “Luke? It's fucking freezing, I thought I'd—” He stops when he gets far enough in to see Reggie on the couch too. “Oh, shit.”

“Hey, Bobby,” says Reggie, voice a little nervous. “I hope it's okay that I—”

“Shut up,” Bobby grumbles, and dumps the whole pile of blankets on top of Reggie. “You guys are stupid. You're both out here, in the freezing cold, and neither of you come wake me up?”

“We didn't want—” Luke starts, at the same time as Reggie insists, “You were sleeping—!”

“Idiots,” Bobby growls, rubbing his eye with his sweater paw and yawning. He looks stupidly cute, like a little kid. “You're idiots, and I hate dealing with you. I'll be back.” Turning to leave the studio again, he turns back and adds, “Hurry up and burrito yourselves in those blankets, I swear to god. And Luke, isn’t that Alex’s hoodie?”

“He left it—!” Luke starts, but Bobby’s already gone, leaving Luke with Reggie, cackling at him.

—

By the time Bobby returns, Luke and Reggie have folded the couch out into its bed form, and are snuggling under the several blankets, giggling together as they talk about how grumpy Bobby had been.

“We should have woken him up,” Reggie snorts, “I think then he would have been less pissed.”

“I would have,” Bobby agrees, sounding somewhere between menacing and amused, as he reappears over them. His hair is all shaggy in his face. He's carrying a teapot. And cups. “Sit up.”

Luke does right away, Reggie pulling himself up a little slower. Bobby sits cross-legged at the foot of the couch-bed, tucking his socked toes under his own legs to keep warm, and pours them each a mug of what smells like peppermint tea. Suddenly, Luke can't imagine anything better in the world. When Bobby offers him a cup, he takes it eagerly, wrapping his cold hands around it and enjoying the steam wafting up to his face.

“Wow,” says Reggie softly, eyes wide, “thanks, Bobby.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luke echoes, letting out a sigh as he takes his first sip.

“Forget it,” Bobby says, a little bitey. Luke knows it's because Bobby hates being seen as nice, so he doesn't take it personally, and he knows Reggie won't either. He has his own cup, which he drinks as though it's done something to offend him, scowling off into the corner of the studio. Reggie nudges Bobby with his foot from under the layers of blankets, and a tiny smile tugs at Bobby's mouth as he nudges Reggie back with his elbow.

After the cup of tea, Luke feels better. He feels warmer on the inside, now, and sleepy too. Reggie is starting to get that dopey, slow blink that shows he's on the verge of sleep as well. Bobby clears his throat and holds out a hand, beckoning for their empty cups. Luke and Reggie hand them over.

“Okay,” says Bobby, after a pause. “G'night, guys.” He goes to stand, but Reggie leans forward and catches Bobby's sleeve.

“Would you stay?” he asks, as if he can't help himself, as if on sheer impulse, but he doesn’t look embarrassed afterwards.

“Reg!” Luke says, a little startled. “It's cold out here, he won't want—”

But he sees Bobby's face, and he stops himself. Because he can see it in Bobby's eyes. That he does want. He’s Bobby, so he won't say it, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his gaze fixed on some point behind Luke and Reggie's heads, but Luke has known Bobby for too long to miss something this obvious, no matter what else Bobby can hide from him.

“That being said,” Luke backtracks hurriedly, “it would be warmer with you here, Wilson. I'm happy to be a leech.”

“That's all I'm good for, huh?” Bobby snorts, but he's already setting the mugs down on the floor near the side of the bed, already shuffling the teapot down there too. He hops up for a moment, and Luke wonders where he’s going, before he realises Bobby is just switching off the light. When Bobby comes back, he pauses, like he's not sure where he fits, and Luke and Reggie make eye contact for only a second before they move apart, leaving a space in the middle.

Bobby looks even less sure of himself, eyebrows knitted, jaw tight. His hands flex and one of them twists in the hem of his sweater. Luke gets it. It looks too much like it's on Bobby's behalf, like they’re doing it to make space for Bobby. Bobby’s always had trouble accepting anything that seems like it’s for his own benefit.

“I already sucked all Reggie's warmth up,” Luke explains.

“Yeah,” Reggie agrees immediately, and Luke loves him, “and you're warmer than Luke anyway, man. I wanna huddle with you. As a penguin, you would be my first-choice huddle-buddy.”

Bobby barks a laugh. “The fuck? What does that even mean?” Finally, he wriggles his way under the blankets in between them, and rolls his eyes when they both throw limbs over him right away, twining legs and arms together and resting cheeks on his chest.

“Like, if we were penguins. You know? In the winter?” Reggie says, like this is totally obvious and self-explanatory. “If I was a penguin, I'd be looking for the Bobby-penguin in the winter huddle to stick close to.”

“Aaand I'm at my capacity for dumb shit,” Bobby says, closing his eyes pointedly, but it's a scam, because his hands come to run through Luke and Reggie's hair. “Goodnight, morons.”

“Goodnight, Bobby,” they chorus. This close, Luke could almost brush noses with Reggie, has to try to focus his eyes to keep Reggie from getting blurry. Reggie sticks his tongue out at Luke just a little, and Luke grins back, links his fingers with Reggie’s over Bobby’s stomach, rubbing over Reggie’s knuckles until Reggie’s fingers don’t feel so much like icicles. When Luke uses his free hand to tug the neckline of Alex’s hoodie up over his nose, the familiar smell of the third piece of his heart soothes him right down.

The feel of Bobby’s fingernails on his scalp makes Luke’s eyelids flutter, and before he knows it he’s dopey, the world feeling blurrier and safer and cozier. Honestly, more like home than his own house would have. He no longer daydreams of returning to his own warm bed. Instead, he feels the way Bobby’s chest rises and falls with his breaths, pushing his and Reggie’s joined hands up and down. If he listens closely, Luke can hear Bobby’s heartbeat, familiar and steady.

Maybe the cold isn't all bad.

other prompt fills here :)

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #bobby wilson #luke patterson #lukebobby #boggie brain rot #rebuke #idk how else to tag this LOL #my fic #chickwiththepurpleguitar #peterpatter

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onbeinganangel · 4 years ago

Text

okay so @eat-yearn-cry and @tackytigerfic asked for a wee liveblog of me reading capri so i am here to embarrass myself

here are my notes from a five-ish hour reading sesh yesterday (thanks @the-starryknight for witnessing this live and sending me your fav capri art for visual references —read: thirst — as i read along)

if you think there is going to be any clever analysis here, please go somewhere else now, this is pure, unhinged screaming (i’m serious, none of this makes sense, it’s a whole mess and i redacted like 50 ‘oh my god???????’s, 30 ‘jesus/mary/joseph/christ’s and 20 ‘oh fuck’s already)

here we go

- a character list!!!! it’s like they know i have a wasteland for a brain and i’m gonna need to come back to that a million times

- okay so far we are feeling very sorry for damen but he’s fiery (big fan)

- he’s a hardheaded bastard, gimme like half an hour and i’ll probably be willing to die for him lmao

- me reading the character list and wondering why it just says ‘pet’, me three lines into the first chapter like OH PET LIKE PET PET OKAY GOT IT omfg mari

- “an astonishingly lovely face” “arrogant and unpleasant” “self-absorbed and self-serving spoilt” (it’s either a description of me or i’m in love)

- “what’s your name, sweetheart” okay FINE

- “i speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart” I SAID FINE (here for the polyglot representation we deserve lol)

- all of this is problematic and i shouldn’t find it hot but hey ho

- “something obscene about someone with a face like that speaking those words” indeed

- oh laurent is only twenty yikes

- boot kissing, thank you gods, mari is v pleased (also just glossing over the /bad/ because double yikes)

- unsure how to feel about Damen going off in his own language which only Laurent (?) understands and then Laurent twisting his words? is Laurent protecting himself? agreeing with Damen? which is it?

- oh

- unlacing

- oh

- flogging but of the bad kind

- okay

- if these two don’t stop calling each other sweetheart i’m calling the police

- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh 🚨 omfg

- “I was on the field at Marlas” ”It’s your countryman who taught me that. You can thank him for the lesson.” ”Thank who?” ”Damianos, the dead Prince of Akielos” hahahahaha okay

- the regent is back an hes brought back the other two guys, yea? and they’re all conspiring against laurent? but laurent doesn’t like kastor???? THEREFORE, jumping to conclusions like a circus cat through hoops, DAMEN LIKES LAURENT bc if you hate the same people you’re immediately pals that’s how it works

- so we’ve got a hotheaded brunette who’s a bit of a brute with a cause and a clever snarky blonde ready to subtly fuck shit up??? idk why anyone would have thought i’d be into this

- “the aloof, untouched Laurent was at this moment delivering a precise treatise on cocksucking” STUFF JUST ESCALATES OUT OF NOWHERE IN THIS BOOK DUNNIT

- Damen asking Erasmus about how he’s treated and after the other slaves???? ”Tell me everything that has happened to you since you left Akielos” 🥺 this is it, it took me hours, but we are hERE, i am willing to die for Damen

- oh no

- oh nooooo

- i am gonna go off

- NOT ERASMUS

- protect his tiny head and beautiful curls pls i will do anything

- also fuck, not Damen promising obedience in exchange for a guarantee that the other slaves will be treated well 😭😭😭

- Laurent is a scheming little bitch and i love him

- also should have mentioned earlier but Nicaise can get fucked (considering the themes of this book i should probably consider how i express my dislike for characters but you get the point, he’s a dickhead)

- THE FORK

- torveld/erasmus, okay 🥺

- Nicaise is the regent’s pet???? ofc he is jfc the little shit

- damen is talking to torveld, the baby back in akielos is totally his, i’m calling it now

- also torveld told him he looks a bit like kastor !!!! and boy oh boy is damen shitting himself rn

- oooh hunting

- wait LAURENT IS NICE!? tbd

- also damen just admiring how fucking stunning laurent is and he’s just his type but it’s such a shame the good looks are wasted on such an unpleasant person lmao

- when you think about it, without the rape and the slavery and the violence, they just sit about on silk pillows and scheme and eat, it’s a pretty good deal

- DAMEN HAS BEEN SUMMONED TO LAURENT’S BED????? or so they say, i’m unconvinced,

- OH SHIT

- oh shit

- the boys have finally reached third base: committing murder together (first base is when you get sucked off by someone else via your lover’s strict instructions, second base is when you eat off your lover’s fingers, don’t @ me i don’t make the rules)

- so the idiot really decided it was a great idea to try to escape post murder attempt???? even though Laurent told him what would happen AND IT HAPPENED

- he’s saved!!!!!!!!!

- ”You must be the fuck of a lifetime” sir they have barely touched

- i am Nervous

- this is a fucking trip

- oh no the regent is bad and trying to fuck it all up who could have seen that coming 🙄

- okay alright so — fuck — first damen tries to escape but laurent gets him back and then they still want to arrest/kill damen but laurent defends him and then laurent wants damen to be stuck in his room for months while he’s away but then he sends for him and they’re off to war together?????? my brain isn’t here anymore sorry

- “He was dressed in Laurent’s colours, and bearing his insignia” hhhhhh i’m stupidly into this

- also Nicaise and the earring and whatvs? i’m sure there’s something there, more than Nicaise simply being an arsewipe but i can’t figure it out rn, thoughts later but he’s a shit stirring cunt i can tell you that

- SO THAT’S JUST IT!?

and this is where i messaged Starry and asked her to stop me from starting the second book at 10 to midnight, thank you Starry lmao

off to ignore my responsibilities and start the second book now

#mari reads capri #capri #cw rape #cw violence #cw slavery #(they're just mentioned i ain't going into details here but just in case you don't know what capri's main themes are...)#m babbles

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honestsycrets · 5 years ago

Text

Hard Sell | [ Ivar x Reader: Friends to Lovers ]

hiya! could i please request ivar fluff? 17 and 27 from the cuddly prompt list? (it doesnt hurt so much when you’re here & you belong here) thank you!!♥️♥️

❛ pairing | ivar x reader (friends to... shy friends maybe loves?)

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | ivar’s not jealous. he doesn’t GET jealous. maybe it’s hurt-- after all, it’s not him you came to watch...

❛ warnings | voyeurism, best friend to lover au, shy teenagers, 4B Ivar, canon divergent-- brothers are actually brothers, jealousy, jealous ivar, broken bones.

❛ sy’s notes | I know you requested this forever ago and i’m sorry.

Ivar knew that you were in the tree. You weren’t watching him, he knew. You were his… closest friend. If he could have one. Who you were really watching-- and he knew it as true-- was Bjorn and Ubbe. Both two big Vikings, two princes. And, if you wanted a treat, the only brotherly thing to do was to let you.

“Can I use the sword?”

Bjorn stretched, flexing his arms forward and back, flicking his hand up into the air. Yes, he’s reminded, that’s why you’re here. Bjorn Ironside, the next king, all muscle. Ubbe was a pretty face, but not so toned as his eldest brother. “After this. You’ll be the only man home. If Sigurd comes,” he reasons.

“Sigurd won’t go,” Ivar scoffs. “He is too busy being a bitch.”

Beside him, Ubbe stood with his arms folded rocking side to side. He joined his oldest brothers out to the river-- watching them swim with the promise that they would teach him too how to shoot a heavier weighted bow.

“Then you can help him defend Kattegat.” Pbbbt. Bjorn bends down, setting his hands on his thighs, and meeting him eye to eye. “For Princess Aslaug.”

In the tree, he hears your stifled giggle, and Ubbe’s forehead wrinkles as he turns his head up, his hand hovering above the axehead on his waist. “What are you doing?” Ivar reaches out, slapping Ubbe’s pasty belly, motioning him to watch. “You are supposed to be teaching me. Not hunting little squirrels.”

Squirrels! you shout. And with it, Ubbe whirls around, flicking the axe despite Ivar’s shrilled command to wait. It’s then that you throw yourself off the tree, and with a wet crack, Ivar flinches.

“What are you doing?” Ubbe rushes over, expecting his kill, saxe drawn out. The polished blade is tight in his fist, but where he expected a great kill, he only found you rocking on your side, shrilling hatefully. “You threw an axe at me!”

“What were you doing in the tree?!” Ubbe snaps, despite looking up, where his axe was lodged, and down again. He’d need to get that down. Ivar throws himself, dragging in time with Bjorn’s rushed steps over. When he pushes you over, Ivar drags his feet around, unbinding one of his leather straps and handing it off to his brother.

“Ow, ow, ow fuck! Glory to Frigg--” Bjorn shifts your arm, and your hand connects with his chest, a punch, but then-- a rare stroke over the light sheen of the sweat that glistened them from his spar with Ubbe.

If just for that it was worth it--

“She was watching you! That’s what she was doing.” Ivar hisses, checking your other bones for the pain, but in your brilliance you had landed on your arm, because that was the good and obvious thing to do. Obviously. “In the tree?” Bjorn asks.

“Of course in the tree,” you snap. “How else would I see the rat tail twin-- oof!” Ivar shoves you onto your butt, ignoring your strained complaints. “You’ll make it worse!”

“Stop being dramatic.” Ivar says. “I break my bones all the time and moan less than you.”

“In case you haven’t noticed I don’t break my bones like you, you insufferable little prince.” Little? You swirl around on your ass, ignoring Ivar now, ignoring how Ubbe has had enough of the conversation, even with Ivar forming a way to prop your arm in a makeshift sling with his strap of leather.

“Right. You only like to peep on these two brothers to get off.” At that, Bjorn gave Ivar one spare look before hopping up on two feet, flicking his head toward the tree.

“I think he has this.” Ubbe nods, walking to the tree. With Bjorn’s help he’s able to lurch up the tree and retrieve his axe. Meanwhile, you’ve spun all the way around, stubbornly sitting there, despite Ivar knowing that you’re simply pouting to pout-- with cheeks hot with embarrassment, knowing that Bjorn heard, and Bjorn knew, and Bjorn and Ubbe would know the next time that you watched them bathe in the river. If there was a next time.

After some time, Ivar knows that at least-- at least, he’s overstepped his bounds. He drags himself over by setting his cheek to your thigh, ignoring your fingers dangling over his puffy short hair. He cradles your other thigh with his hand, working up the courage to say something, that isn’t another swipe at your tendencies.

“It’s just a break. It’ll heal,” Ivar says to you. You wiggle your fingers in his short hair, rolling your lower lip in, then out again to deal with the pain. Ivar… he can’t help it. He can’t help the need to reach up, tease his fingers in your hair, half up, half loose just like he always liked, but could never find the words to tell you.

“Until then I’ll look just like you. But in the arms.” You tell him, almost kidding, but Ivar adds. “You can’t be like me. You still have an arm up on me.”

Maybe, you laugh. “It doesn’t hurt so much when you’re around.”

“It doesn’t?” he looks up, a mix of wonder and surprise in his eyes, so wide and needy, that his blue eyes almost seem to water with the hope. You bring the other hand that was supporting you on the ground, tapping his nose. “No.”

“Tch,” Ivar settles back, his hand leaving your hair, pouting almost. “I’m sure you’d tell that to Bjorn, or Ubbe, real Vikings.”

“Are you jealous?”

There’s a pause-- just then. His gloved hand soothes over your dress, picking out the branches from the tree that you’d fallen out of, thanking Frigg that the tree was not higher, or you might have cracked your head open too.

“You belong here, you know.” you tell him. He doesn’t answer. If he asked where he might be disappointed. Your hand shifts down, caressing his cheek, and the prominent sideburns that you always told him looked like a wolf. Fenrir, the wolf. Stupidly, you didn’t need him to respond to keep speaking yourself.

“With me. I wouldn’t say that to Bjorn. He is…” a pause, and he wonders what comes next. “Something… sweet to look at, at best.”

“I’m not?” he finds himself asking.

“All the women say you’re the best looking of his children.” You whisper, bending over yourself, smushing him with your chest, and he turns up to look at you. “No woman has ever spoken to me.”

“Best looking-- but you have that temper.”

“What temper?” Ivar says. How could he not know? The anger, the jealousy, and--

“--and Queen Aslaug would never approve of any woman stealing her precious little prince.”

“Tch,” Ivar says. “You’re full of excuses.”

Excuses-- maybe. But good ones. That’s all you can afford to tell him, tap dancing around this… and that. Your lips curl, “But am I wrong?”

No, Ivar laments to himself. You weren’t.

Mother was a hard sell. But maybe not if he was in love.

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @itsjusttaralove @beyond-the-ashes @supernaturalvikingwhore @mblaqgi @wuxiesalt @hopplessdreamer @therealcalicali @rekdreams-fandom @moondustmemories @athroatfullofglass @poisonedjoinery @strangunddurm @shookforyoojung @peachesnpisces @tierneygonzalez @hexqueensupreme @nohemi2500 @queenmissfit @alicedopey @dmv49 @sallylebecks @terrainhead @mybarnesmyhero @youurkryptonite @lif3snotouttogetyou @vikingsmania @looneytunes20033 @bat-fam-blob @oneofthelothbroks @lovelynerdytraveler @chinduda @whatamood13 @honeyofthegods @ilvebeenabad @queenbeeta @wonderlandofsu @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

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bangtanfancamp · 5 years ago

Text

Make A Wish

Prompt: “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with..”

//It’s your birthday today, and there’s no one better to cheer you up than your best friend, Jimin//

-masterlist

•Best friends to lovers

•Park Jimin x reader

•12.3k words

•fluffy angsty fluff (my specialty)

•one shot

•( But could be the precursor to these drabbles- a, b - maybe? alternate timeline? if you *squint*- maybe. lol)

• Jimin singing happy birthday (trust me, you need it in your life)

~ quarantine got me feelin alive ~

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Jimiiiin, not tonight.” You moaned into your phone.

“Seriously? Y/n, what is going on with you? You never turn down poké. Are you sick? Oh my god, are you dying???” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded so concerned.

“No, Jimin.” you huffed. “ Calm down, you big baby. I’m not terminal. I just… today’s been a weird day, okay? My roommates are gone and I have the place entirely to myself to write and what did I do with it? Absolutely nothing. Nothing came out right all day. It was all hot garbage- which means I’m hot garbage, and now my head just hurts.” You pouted, flopping face down on your couch.

“That’s all? Y/n, you’re making a big deal out of nothing! Don’t you dare back out of letting me treat you for your birthday because your first draft was a first draft and not an instant masterpiece. We both know you know better than that.” His threat was unconvincing. He was as menacing as a piece of cotton fluff.

“It is not ‘nothing.’” You winced.

“Okay, okay. Bad choice of words. That was a little harsh… but you always back out on your birthday, y/n. I’m not letting you do that again.” He asserted firmly.

“Look Chim, all I wanted to do for my birthday was to have some silence to myself to do what I wanted - and I wanted to write. But now I’ve blown the whole day- all that time is gone. I can’t get it back, and I have nothing to show for it. I don’t want to get dolled up right now, and I certainly don’t have the patience to go out and belt karaoke around strangers with you tonight.” You stated matter of factly, ignoring Jimin’s huff of frustration.

“I just think getting you out of the house will get you out of your head, y/n.” Jimin sighed.

“And what if I don’t want to get out of my head? Huh? What if I want to wallow? If I can't be a good writer, then at least I can be a good tortured artist.” You sighed.

“This is ridiculous,” he scoffed. “ You’re not Hemingway. Get up off your butt and put on that maroon dress you always stuff in the back of your closet.”

“Are you ignoring me on purpose?” you grimaced. “I’m not going out. I’m not singing karaoke. I’m not squeezing myself into that god forsaken dress-you know the looks I get in that thing- and I’m not going to be nice to you when you won’t respect my wishes. It’s my birthday we’re celebrating, Jiminie. Not yours. Tonight’s not about you.” Ouch. You frowned. God, you loved him but he was so frustrating sometimes. Still, you probably could’ve pulled that punch a little.

“Okay, first of all, they look at you like that in that dress because you look hot as hell in it, by the way, but fine. Fine. If going out isn’t what you want, then what DO you want?” He sighed. You could picture him pinching the bridge of his stupidly perfect nose at a stop light, exasperated to the hilt with his stubborn best friend.

“You wanna know what I want? I’ve had a rough day, Jimin, and honestly, all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with... but I don’t drink. And I don’t have a boyfriend. So I would like- at the very least- to be coddled and allowed to be a potato tonight.”

“You’re exhausting, you know that? You’re beautiful and young and the only person who doesn’t know how talented you are. Dummy.” His affectionate words were riddled with frustration. You couldn’t blame him. Your emotional bait and switch had wrecked the plans you’d both had set in stone for weeks now only to cancel an hour beforehand. He had a right to be grumpy, but so did you. And you had the birthday trump card, so he’d just have to suck it up. But, in the midst of all of that, you noticed something. It was super delayed through the thick fog of your pity glasses, but had he called you-

“Make yourself decent at least, I’m coming up.” You heard him shift his car into park and turn off his engine.

“Wait, you’re here? I didn’t give my consent for this!” Your brows furrowed furiously low.

”And?” Jimin sassed.“Nothing in this friendship would ever get done if I waited on you. We both know that. You ruined my plans, so I’m crashing your pity party.”

“Jimin, what part of ‘I want to be a potato’ didn’t you catch?” You frowned.

“The unwritten part where being a potato means being alone, dumb dumb. You can be a potato with company. I’m not letting you spend your birthday night alone again and - ughh god, why do you live on the third floor?” He huffed “Open up and let me in.” He demanded. Grunting, he gave your apartment door a few hefty whacks, ignoring the judgmental glare of your passing neighbor.

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, feeling decidedly like one of the three little pigs being bullied into letting the wolf in. Jimin’s certainly done enough huffing and puffing, you thought with an eye roll. Stuffing your cell into the kangaroo pocket of your grey hoodie, you trudged reluctantly to the door. At the door, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the entryway mirror and grimaced. Yikes.

You looked a mess. The bags under your eyes were positively cavernous today and half hidden behind the heavy clumps of hair slipping out of your defunct sloppy bun. Geeze. Not your best look. Sorry, chim...you get what you get. You thought dismissively. If he hadn’t had the decency to warn you, then you were under no obligation to tidy yourself up for him. I swear to god though, if he gives me crap about my pink bunny shorts, I’ll kill him.

“Oh my god, keep your shorts on! I’m coming!” You snapped. Unceremoniously, you yanked the door open only to be met with a view you never could have expected. Jimin, he...looked beautiful tonight. You suddenly felt a chunk of disbelief lodge itself in your throat as you choked, struggling to get air in.

Not long ago, he’d dyed his hair a stunning sterling silver, but he was always running so chronically late to everything that it never seemed to be styled. It was usually a lovably fluffy bleached out mess- but not today. Today It was parted off center, silky and blown out- coiffed up and away to frame his face, layers gently sweeping to highlight the cheekbones he didn’t know you loved.

He wore a dark silky shirt, some impossibly deep shade of blue, unbuttoned just enough for his collarbones and a delicate silver necklace to slip through. As your eyes washed over him, you noticed the billowing fabric was tucked into the tightest pair of leather pants you’d ever seen and a pair of classic, black pointed boots. Boy, when he did it, he did it up. Even the slight sheen of sweat across his brow bone honestly just highlighted how ethereal he was by nature. The whole ensemble made him look so elegant and lean and impossibly out of your league, even just as a friend.

Holy crap, I’d be pissed too if I looked that good, you thought to yourself.

“Are you gonna let me in or you gonna continue being a fluffy socked barricade?” He shifted his weight deep into one hip and my god, he looked fantastic.

“Comin for the socks today, huh? I haven’t been demeaned enough?” You rolled your eyes heavenward.

“Demeaned? By whom? Not by me. Certainly. Now I’m serious, let me in, this is getting heavy.” He grunted, squeezing past you. For the first time, you noticed a giant canvas tote bag swinging behind him, stuffed to the brim with things you couldn’t quite see yet. Still standing stupefied in the doorway, you twisted back over your shoulder to watch him unceremoniously let the bag clunk down on your kitchen island with a thump.

“Geeze, what the heck is in there? A body?”

“It was almost yours when you shot me that text mearlier.” He sighed, dipping to rummage in the bag, tongue poking the inside of his beautiful cheek as he scowled. “But, as much as I hate you for it right now..” he tightened his jaw. “You are right. It is your birthday. I could tell even over text that you weren’t feeling your best. And nobody should be miserable -or alone- on their birthday. So! I left early and made a few stops on my way.” He confessed, hands titling along the steep incline of his perfect hips.

“What kind of stops?” You queried as you tugged your too long sleeves over your knuckles.

“The kind even you can’t put up a fuss about.” He replied, reaching forward to tap you on the forehead with an elegant finger, his eyes softening and a smile playing on the edge of his lips.

“I pick my battles.” You argued, shrugging defiantly as you stuffed your hands in your hoodie pocket.

“Uh huh…. sure you do. That’s why I look like this,” he gestured along his elegant body, but you averted your eyes halfway through the journey, “and you look like you’re auditioning for the reboot of the big comfy couch in those pajamas.”

“Are you calling me a clown?” Your eyes narrowed as you sized up his response.

“ I am not actually. But I’m also not the one who canceled my own birthday plans just to wallow in my own mortality, so if the clown shoes fit…”

Jimin’s snarky comment was swiftly cut off by the sound of his sharp, undignified yelp when you smacked him with a tasseled throw pillow to the face.

“Watch it, Park. I am intrigued, but you are on thin ice.” Your squinted eyes pierced his, and only for a second, his cocky facade wavered.

“Duly noted.” His silver ringed fingers reached up to trace the cheekbone you bludgeoned as your stomach tilted a little.

“Back on the man jewelry train, are we?” Still pouting, you kept a guarded distance as your eyes dragged over the silhouette of his hands, your tongue flicking out to wet your suddenly dry lips.

“Never got off, sweetheart.” He replied smoothly, sending a wink your way as the light glinted brightly off the silver threads dancing from his ears.. “Especially on a special night. Even if your ungrateful behind is the only one who will see me in my majesty now. A travesty really.” He huffed, twisting to look down at himself- the lines of his dancer’s body impossibly striking as usual, even with little to no effort. You shook your head to break the one sided tension.

“Yes, yes, the female population will shrivel up and die now that they don’t get to watch you sip champagne in public on someone else’s birthday-What a waste. Is there a point to all this, Park, or did you just come over to siphon sympathy from me? Because if that’s the point of your visit, I have none to give you. There’s only enough for me. So if you’ll excuse me, I have some grade-A emoting to get back to that you have so rudely interrupted.” You cocked your hip triumphantly, hands contentedly pocketed away as your hair flopped to the side.

“You know,” a gentle smile curved across Jimin’s face as he dug through the bag, “you don’t have to make it this hard to love you all the time, y/n. It’s got to be exhausting. It wouldn’t kill you to let me in sometimes.”

“You don’t know that. It very well might.” You stuck your chin out. You weren’t hard to love. Not on purpose. Prickly sometimes, but not hard to love. Neither was Jimin, for that matter. In fact, he was entirely too easy to love. It had become a bit of a problem actually. Nibbling on your thumbnail, you mentally noted that his sweetness actually made your life much harder than it needed to be most of the time. It meant you had to keep a salty wall of platonic sarcasm up out of necessity at all times- distance must be maintained, you assured yourself- because otherwise you might be forced to confront the fact that you actually, sort of, maybe had-

“Well, you won’t be going anywhere tonight- unless you die of happiness from my birthday gifts.”

When you turned back over your shoulder, Jimin was positively beaming. It softened something in you, sent a burst of warmth sparkling in your stomach. In spite of yourself, a tiny smile stole across your lips, lighting up your tired eyes.

“Presents? For me? What do you have up your sleeve?” You lazily tugged on his billowing midnight blue shirt. Your voice was softer now, curiosity beginning to creep in and overtake your resistance.

“Ha ha. Very punny. You’ll see soon. Where’s your lighter at?”

“By the candle. Over in the window.” You pointed, rising up on your toes in an attempt to see around his shoulder. He shifted to block your view as you caught your first whiff of the subtle notes in his cologne. God, he was so extra. Cologne for poke and karaoke. You couldn’t lie though, it mingled so nicely with his natural scent. It was so indescribably Jimin that you bit back a grin as he turned to follow your finger.

“Christ. How have you not caught this place on fire yet? It’s right next to your curtains!” He mumbled.

“Is this you being nice to me yet? Cuz I can’t tell.” You laughed dryly.

“Fine. I’ll try if I have to. We just might have to blow out the curtains instead of the candles.” He sighed, but the laughter creeping back into his voice betrayed him.

That was one of the great things about Jimin. If he was ever mad at you, it really was just because he cared that much about you. Selfishly, you kind of loved how stubbornly he insisted on making you let him in. No one had really ever bothered to push back before him. And god, was he cute when he was determined.

Spinning on his heels, Jimin clasped your shoulders, eyes bright. “All right, birthday girl. You wanna be a potato? Be a potato. Just be a potato with her eyes closed.” He led you to your sofa and guided you to sit so you didn’t flop down and injure yourself. “Stay right here, and don’t peek or I swear to god, y/n…”

“You swear to God you’ll what?” You snickered. “Threats of bodily harm aren't really on my wish list this year, Chim.”

“Oh my god, y/n. Must everything be a joke to you? ….Maybe there are people who really do just love you and want you to be happier than you let yourself be. Maybe they’re even at your apartment trying to show you how important you are on a day when you’re...acting like an ungrateful butt.” He grunted under the effort of something. You frowned.

“Hey, are you okay over there?”

“I’m fine.” He panted. “Eyes closed!”

“All right, all right.” You worried your hands in your lap as he scurried about. “They’re closed…. And I know. I know I’m being a brat today.” You confessed.

“It that….self awareness, I hear? The clarity your new age has brought you.” His airy voice mocked. Internally rolling your eyes, you continued.

“Make all the jokes you want. I know. Life has just… its kind of sucked lately, Jiminie. I really just wanted one day to myself to work on these story ideas I never have time for. Do something I’m passionate about, you know? But nothing flowed today. I’m so out of practice, Chim. Everything I wrote today sucked. Whenever anyone asks what I do for a living, I want to tell them “I’m a writer” but then they’ll ask what I’ve written. And I don’t have anything worth showing them…I just, feel like such an imposter.” You flopped back against the couch, tucking your feet up in your lap as your eyes searched the ceiling.

“Eyes closed, Socrates. Wax philosophical when I’m finished.” He chided.

“....Jimin.” Your voice was traitorously soft now. “What- what if I’m already a failure? What if I never get published? ” You scrunched your eyes shut, a rebellious tear escaping as you tried to hold it back. All noise in the room stopped as Jimin stilled. Suddenly, quick as a whisper, you felt the cushion next to you sink, dipping beneath Jimin’s weight.

“Y/n, is that what’s really been bothering you?” His voice was gentle, full of care. You sniffled softly, nodding your head in assent. You couldn't bear to say it out loud again. Jimin exhaled, heavy and low beside you. “Oh best friend, what a backwards way to spend your birthday.”

“Huh, don’t I know it.” You muttered wryly, resting your chin on your knees.

“Stay here.” Jimin leaned forward and brushed a soft, reassuring kiss to the top of your hair before the couch righted itself, fluffing back in his absence. “I’ve got this. I know just want to do. Don’t move.”

Before you could ask for an explanation or even process what he’d just done, the room around you went dark, the glow beyond your eyelids sinking into a fuzzy dimness. What on earth was he up to?

“Jimin, what are you-“ You’d barely had time to question before Jimin’s silky, breathy voice was floating on the air.

“Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, y/n

Happy birthday to you”

Your thick lashes fluttered open to find Jimin bent low in front of you, a small but beautiful birthday cake in his outstretched hands, lit with long stemmed candles that flickered like sparklers. “Make a wish, jagiya.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you sniffled, all your fight dissolving at his impossible sweetness.

“Please. We both know you love it.” He teased softly, voice so gentle it was almost a whisper. He smiled up at you, his coffee colored eyes swirling with delight. Humbled, you looked at him in awe, forgetting for a second that it was your job to blow out the candles...but God, how beautiful he looked in the flickering light. He shouldn’t even be possible, you thought. You mentally recorded the way the apples of his cheeks glowed in the candle light before dipping at your hips to lean forward and blow across the cake, extinguishing them all in one low huff as you hid your wish away in the corner of your heart.

“Yay!!!!” Jimin cheered. “What’d you wish for?” He asked nosily. “A boyfriend?” He bounced his eyebrows cheekily.

Why would I ? You thought, when you’re here, looking so devastatingly soft and beautiful. Internally you sighed, but out loud you shot back with a snarky, “Ha Ha. Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sticking your tongue out defiantly.

“Maybe you’ll spill the beans once you see the rest of your gifts.” He teased, eyebrows lifting happily, his smile full of secrets.

“Rest of my gifts?” You asked, brows scrunching.

“Oh absolutely. I know my presence alone should be enough to spoil you, but if we’re not going out, I guess we’ll do it up here instead.” He winked. Sliding to the side, he sat cross legged on the floor between you and the coffee table. There were three boxes, each with a number taped to the front.

“Is there a method to this madness?” You queried, reaching for box number 2.

“Yah, open number 1 first, you philistine! God, who decided to let you teach children every day?” He chided, smacking your hand away.

“Yeesh, Fine- be boring.” You spat, tongue flicking out defiantly at him, only to have him shoot the same face back at you. “ I’ll go in order.” You mocked.

Dipping down once again, you pulled the lid off the top of gift box number 1 only to be greeted by the rich smells of your favorite Chinese take out dishes. You couldn’t help yourself when you started laughing. “Seriously, Chim?” Your eyes were bright and happy, a sparkle creeping into them for the first time tonight. Jimin reveled in it.

“It’s impossible to be sad with a mouth full of shrimp fried rice. Science.” He shrugged as your brow arched suspiciously back at him, stifling your smile.

“Besides, if we’re not going out, you still have to eat. You might want to be a starving artist but God, we both know you’re an ogre when you’re hangry. So, technically the first gift is for both of us.” He quipped.

“I resent that statement.” You rebuffed

“I’m sure you do. Doesn’t make it any less true.” Jimin smiled, leaning back on his palms to look up at you. Tipping his head to the side, his luscious hair flopped into his eyes. Despite your annoyance, your heart still fluttered at the sight. You were tempted to lean over and fix it, but he carded his jeweled fingers back through it before you could. God, he’s so pretty, you swallowed. Focus.

“Open the next one!” he instructed. He shot you a lighthearted wink before shuffling present two towards you.

Indulging in a heavy, gag filled eye roll at his wink, you ignored the butterflies swarming insistently in your stomach. Traitors. “So bossy...The nonsense I put up with from you,” you murmured.

“It’s mutual, darling. Trust me. You’re no peach either.” His words were snarky but his eyes, his tone, were entirely loving. It threatened to melt you right there on the floor like spilled ice cream but you resisted showing it.

“Now open it! Open it!” He insisted. His eagerness made you question who the gift was really for at this point, but his innocent happiness was too infectious to resist. Unfurling the ribbon wrapped around box 2, you felt a smile burst across your face without your permission as rental copies of your favorite movies stared back at you from the box.

“Chim, what is all this?” You asked, shaking your head in disbelief at him.

“In my years of research, your day is always better after a full belly and a good movie. You sounded pretty bleak earlier so I didnt know if you’d want to be pulled out of this mood or bask in it. So I got the full spectrum just in case- all the way from tacky explosions to quiet British gardens.” He shrugged his shoulders lazily, as if that solution to your bad day was as easy as first grade math and not the sweet, attentive gesture it was.

“But you don’t even like half of these.” You added skeptically.

“So? You do. That’s the whole point.” Head tipping to the side, he smiled that glorious smile at you that melted you just a little bit more.

“But I’ve already canceled your night. I’m not gonna make you spend the next four hours making you watch movies you don’t like.” You deadpanned.

“God, four hours? What are we watching?” He sneered.

“The run time is not my point.” Your eyes rolled. “You just…. already gave up your night for me. What if it sucks?” You couldn’t quite look at him. Your question tumbling out softly, more vulnerable than intended.

Jimin shook his head, a gentle sigh leaving his lips. “Another year older and no wiser”

Confused, your eyes flicked up to his, already watching you with a warmth you didn’t understand. He spoke softly when he said,

“I want to be here, y/n. If I’m with you, my night can’t suck.”

The genuine smile that carved his eyes into sparkling moon slivers cut through your cynicism in a way only he could. “Do you trust me?” He asked gently. You could only summon up a small nod, eyes struggling to meet his.

“Then let. me. love. you.” He punctuated each pause by tapping you below your collarbone, just above your heart, not hard enough to sting, just enough to know he was real, here and he meant it as your eyes grew misty. “At least for today. This only happens once a year. Tonight’s about you, remember? So we’re gonna do what you like. Plan A is out? That’s fine. It was too me centered anyway. Besides,” he rummaged through the cases. “ the ghibli ones are nice. And the pride and prejudice guy isn’t half bad. He’s grown on me seventeen rewatches in.” He smirked. God he was going to be the death of you.

“Okay, I’ve made you watch that twice- max.” You defended.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right. It just felt like seventeen because the movie’s so dang long.” He looked off in the distance thoughtfully.

“You brat! You’re not helping.” Fighting back another smile, you attempted to smack him with the nearest pillow again (Pom pom trimmed this time) but he quickly caught your wrist and dodged it.

“Ah ah, not this time.” He looked so proud of himself as he took the pillow and happily stuffed it in his lap and out of your reach. “ Besides, I am helping. See? You’re smiling now.” His glittering eyes were innocent and bright as he looked up at you.

“Am not,” you lied.

“Your face betrays you, madam.” He whispered, leaning forward to softly poke your cheek where your dimple was beginning to show. For reasons you couldn’t comprehend, you felt your face grow warm under his gentle gaze like the sparklers

from the candles had been relit beneath your skin. Your cheeks must be a flaming pink right now, but If he caught you blushing, he certainly didn’t acknowledge it, and for that you were grateful.

“Fine. I’ll pick which film we torture you with later. Something romantic and peaceful and slow.” You threatened.

“Do your worst, madam.” He saluted.

“Stop calling me madam, weirdo. What’s in the third box?” You shuffled on the sofa, clearing your throat and feigning disinterest.

“Ah, the piece de resistance.” He clutched his hand to his silky chest dramatically.

“Must you do the French thing right now?” You quipped, feeling your eyes roll of their own accord.

“Yes, in fact, I must.” He shot back indignantly. “Do you have any idea how long it took to find this? Your taste is excruciating, I swear. Can’t just get you a forever 21 sweater like everyone else- no.” His shoulders sagged beneath the weight of whatever burden he’d been carrying while present hunting for you.

“To be fair, you can’t get anyone a forever 21 sweater anymore.” You grimaced.

“Touché. Gone too soon. Another tragedy” fist to his chest, his eyes shot heavenward in salute to his fallen friend. Idiot. Coming back to the moment, he yet again became insistent.“….now come on! Open it will you!” He scooted closer excitedly, nudging the third and largest gift in your direction.

“Okay, Okay! Keep your pants on. Geeze, who’s birthday is it anyway?” You shot him a look that would have killed an inferior man, but not jimin.

“Nope. Don’t give me that face. Open it, y/n. Trust me. You’ll like it. I promise.” His eyes then, so round and soft, so full of eagerness and innocence, undid you then. You would have done just about anything for him then when he looked at you like that. Wouldn’t kill me to let you in, huh? Lies, you sighed.

Bending down, you attempted to lift the box into your lap like the others only to barely be able to budge it. “Christ, what is IN this?” You asked, only to be greeted by his eager giggles as he mimed zipping his lips shut. After struggling enough with whatever this was, you decided to climb down to the floor next to jimin to open it there. And as you untied the bow and lifted the lid, the whole world went a little blurry as tears filled your eyes.

“Chim…. you didn’t.” Clapping your hands over your lips, you looked at him, heart stunned and collapsing in on itself with love as a beautiful glossy vintage typewriter beamed up at you from inside the box.

“Happy birthday, jagiya.” He smiled, voice a simple whisper. All the admiration in the world glowed back at you through his eyes. It took everything in you not to burst into undignified sobs as you crawled over into his lap, sinking your nose into his neck as he wrapped you in his arms.

“How… where did you find this?” Your voice muffled from being pressed to his throat.

“I can’t tell you all my secrets.” The smile in his voice was heavenly as he held you, his steady hands rubbing your back. “This was going to be your present all along. I improvised the others.”

“You were gonna bring a typewriter to a karaoke bar?” you asked inquisitively.

“Eh, it’s not always a bad thing when the plan changes,” he shrugged, a smile on his lips.

The room went quiet as you pressed into the affectionate grip of Jimin’s arms. “It looks just like his.” you sniffled.

“Do you like it?” Jimin’s fingers gently tucked beneath your chin to bring your eyes back to his from where they’d been buried in his shoulder. Did he really need to ask? Sheepishly, you nodded, a wobbly lift to your lips curving up into a wonky smile.

“It’s wonderful.” You breathed, glistening eyes focused only on him. “I can’t believe you found this. There are so few of that style of typewriter left.”

“It’s my best friend's birthday. I had to find something spectacular for her. She’s a writer, you know. But she’s really hard on herself a lot. I thought, maybe... finding a typewriter like the one her dad had when she was a little girl might help her remember why she loved to write so much in the first place.”

His thumb brushed delicately across your cheek, catching a small tear you didn’t know had fallen as your heart stopped- completely forgot why it was supposed to beat. Noticing the startled look in your eyes, Jimin’s confidence stuttered just for a second as he started to pull his hand away. “Sorry, is that… too much?”

You didn’t know if he meant his words or his touch, but before you could even think, you’d grabbed his hand and placed it back on your cheek, your fingers gently tracing the back of his. Jimin’s eyes went wide at the gesture. Shaking your head softly, your eyes flicked back to his. “No. It’s not. It’s not too much.” You assured.

You both stayed like that longer than either of you knew- you placed in his lap, one of his hands wrapped around your waist, the other caught against your cheek as held held it close, both of you unsure of yourselves as you got lost in the others gaze. It felt decidedly like more and less than friendship all at the same time

Friends were thoughtful. Friends helped pull you out of a funk. Friends gave each other birthday gifts, really really thoughtful ones that reached back into your childhood and mended a little broken piece of you. Friends hugged each other when they were happy, right? Friends romanticized all the good things about you. Friends felt their belly go sparkly and gooey at the cool touch of his rings against your cheek. Friends… appreciated how breathtaking you were in close proximity. Friends let their eyes caress the rim of your lips...right?

“Um, the um… fried rice is… probably getting cold.” You said, but for all your effort it barely came out above a whisper.

“Yeah, we shouldn’t… uh, let it get cold.” Jimin’s lashes fluttered closed as he bent to press his forehead against yours. A shaky exhale came from his nose, like he was gathering all his willpower… for something… before he pulled back, a warm smile back on his face. “Come on, let’s feed you.” He pressed a swift kiss to your forehead before quickly starting to get up.

Starry eyed with wonder at whatever the hell just happened between you, you scrambled out of his lap and onto the fluffy rugged floor. Jimin swept his luscious hair out of his eyes with glistening fingers as he stood, and your breath caught. Damn him and that beautiful profile.

“Is your DVD player still in the bedroom? I’ll grab it and hook it up in here.” He coughed unnecessarily, lifting his chest and chin with purpose as he immediately vacated the room.

Well dang. Wasn’t that whole moment a twist. Your fingers absentmindedly found their way to the cheek he’d touched, marveling at the remnant crackles of electricity still sparkling there. Lost to your thoughts, you ignored the thumps and sounds of frustration coming from the other room. Jimin could be ransacking the place for all you knew, destroying your carefully curated sleeping space with his clumsiness as he dissembled the entertainment system but you couldn’t care less right now.

He’d never… looked at you like that. A smile you couldn’t contain burst across your face- giddy, girly and happy. Your fingers brushed your lips. The way Jimin was watching them like…it was almost like he- like he wanted to- no. That was too much. Everything tonight had been a lot, but to let yourself go there? No. You couldn’t let yourself think about him like that, let yourself wonder if he thought about you like that but...

“Good grief, y/n. What drunk wombat hooked this up for you?” Jimin grumped from behind the wall.

“You did, remember?” You piped back. All the fight had left your body at his affection but that didn’t mean you couldn’t still play with him a little.

“Why on earth would you let me do that?” He complained.

“I didn’t! I was unpacking my dishes in the kitchen when you disappeared for forever and came back all proud of yourself for setting it up. I didn’t have the heart to tell you what a mess it was.” Your words were sarcastic, but your tone was light, your troubles having melted away at his sweetness.

“Hmm, generous of you but past me was clearly an idiot. Why in God’s name did I put it all together like this?”

“Theirs not to make reply,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and die.”

You recited back to him in a sing song fashion.

“Did you just- was that the charge of the freaking light brigade?!? What is this, tenth grade English?”

“So you were paying attention back then.” You snickered.

“To Miss Golightly in those tiny dresses? You bet I did.” Jimin appeared from around the corner, DVD player and cords in tow as he winked sleazily at you and you fake gagged.

“I despise you sometimes.” You frowned.

“That’s a funny way to say you love me.” He observed, kneeling in front of your living room tv to begin setting up your birthday movie marathon. And just like that, you were both back in your groove as you shook your head at him.

“You’re appalling, you know that. That woman was twice our age !” You chided.

“Slander. Holly couldn’t have been more than what- 24? 25?- at the time. Besides, you’re older than me too, you know. Never bothered me any,” he shot back, a wicked grin on his face.

“Hey!! Not by that much! And that is irrelevant right now. We are discussing your moral failings right now, not mine, young one.” You curled your knees against your chest, pouting matter of factly.

“I don’t know how befriending beautiful women who are out of my league is a moral failing but if it is, I have no intention of repenting.” He shrugged lightly as you shook your head at him. “Potsticker please.”

Digging through the box, you found the take out carton of veggie potstickers and held it in his direction, pointedly ignoring the fact that he’d just called you-

“No, feed me! My hands are dusty.” He turned his palms out to you in innocence.

“I’m not going to feed you, Chim.” You deadpanned.

“Why not?” He whined. “I’m slaving away for you! The least you could do is feed the help.”

“I didn’t ask you to do anything! I was going to emote ALONE tonight, remember?” your spunky fire was back, full tilt. No one got under your skin like him.

“You ungrateful little… yeah, without me you would’ve drowned your sorrows in cold pop tarts and home decor YouTube videos- alone. Happy birthday! One year closer to death,” He griped.

“Don’t hate on the noble pop tart. Besides, that sounds like a great night.” You lied.

“At least toss it to me, you uncultured fiend. I’ll catch it and stave off starvation a little longer.” He pretended to feel faint, wilting against the wall.

“Oh my god, don’t be so dramatic, you big baby. We both know I can’t throw for crap and even if I could, you can’t catch. Come here.” You sighed mournfully. Another eye roll that heavy, and they might get stuck back there.

Triumphantly, Jimin dutifully scooted toward you, having won the battle, if not the war, and happily opened his mouth.

Face heavy with displeasure, you fed him the dumpling, grumbling every second of the way... until his mouth brushed your finger as he bit down and your world tilted sideways. With his cheeks happy and full, Jimin capitalized on your flustered state by pressing a soft, very intentional kiss first to your thumb and then to your palm before playfully bouncing his eyebrows and returning to his work.

Shellshocked beyond measure, you crawled back toward the sofa, nestling down on a velvet floor cushion in front of it and trying to regain your bearings. The heck was THAT? you wondered. This night was certainly taking an interesting turn. Quite a few at this point.

A few moments later, your tv suddenly sprang to life, peaceful music playing through the speakers as the menu glistened on the screen.

Triumphantly, Jimin strolled back across the room and draped himself elegantly across your sofa, one foot on the floor by your hip, the other stretching across the length of the couch. “There! Hand me the lo mein so we can get this night started.” He was so pleased with himself, he hadn’t even noticed your delayed motor functions as you sputtered on the floor. A fresh breeze blew through the window carrying the scent of his cologne and you were almost undone.

“What was that about?” You asked, carefully avoiding looking back at him as you handed him his noodles.

“What was what about?” This brat. You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he feigned ignorance.

“Don’t play the fool with me. You know good and well what. Since when do we kiss each other’s hands? Or hair ? Or foreheads? Or kiss at all for that matter. In any context??” You accused, getting slightly riled up.

“Does that mean you didn’t like it?” He asked, cocky smirk etched permanently on his face now. That little rat.

“Answer the damn question, Park. Don’t toy with me.” You snapped, admittedly a bit too ferociously, but you couldn’t tell if you were pissed off or aroused and both options knocked the wind out of your chest. Plus, had he seen himself? He wasn’t playing fair.

“Woah woah. Calm down. Didn’t you want to watch something tranquil? You’re ruining the vibe, birthday girl.” You could hear the chuckle in his voice as he teased you, and yup, it definitely pissed you off.

“Ha Ha. Answer my question.” You shot him a look he knew better than to press. Acquiescencing, he sighed, his shoulders dropping and face shaking softly as he smiled down at you.

“You said you wanted cuddles today. You’re being a standoffish butt today, but we both know you want affection. Even if you won’t let yourself have it.” He stated matter of factly.

“Humph. Well who says I want affection from YOU anyway?” You huffed, arms crossing as you arched an equally annoyed eyebrow at him.

“You do, dummy.” Oh no. You’ve been exposed.

“The frick are you talking about?” You scowled, voice dripping with accusation. He was still looking at you kindly, the patience of Noah, as he calmly gathered his thoughts to answer you- like you were a ridiculous child and he needed to word it right so you didn’t fly off the handle, fully unhinged. The idea only made you more gruff.

“I see your face when I touch you, y/n. You think I’ve been your best friend this long and can’t read those big eyes of yours?” Drat. Sold out by your own body. Traitorous.

“What do you mean?” Brows pinched, you clutched a cushion into your lap, like it could guard his perceptive eyes from seeing straight through to your heart again.

“Y/n, we both know what I mean.” He said gently.

The worst part was he was right.

You knew your eyes went wide and starry for him, constantly and without your consent. It was a miracle it had taken him as long as it had to say something. But why was he calling you out on it today? Of all days?

Sighing, you accepted your fate. You’d been called out. No one knew you like Jimin. No one else cared for you like this. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t felt yourself hopelessly slipping into an infatuation with him lately. But what were you supposed to do when he acted like this? Paying attention to the tiniest details, being kind when you definitely didn’t deserve it, looking like that. I mean, come on. You’re just a girl, for Pete’s sake. Humans can only put up with so much stimuli. But to feel so exposed… your feelings so bare to him without meaning to. Unsettled you.

Despite his teasing tone, Jimin’s eyes went unexpectedly soft as he whispered your name. Turning back to look at him, his thumb found your chin again as something sweet blossomed in his gaze. “ I really do just want to take care of you today. You’re my best friend, y/n. You know how much you matter to me. I was just being playful but…. if this is too much, I can reel it back in. We don’t have to do anything you're uncomfortable w…”

“Oh god. Shut up. You sound like the school counselor.” You interrupted. His glittering laugh filled the room at your outburst.

“Mrs. Applebaum?! Another immaculately dressed woman. Those legs? in those skirts?” He let out a low whistle as you frowned. “Didn’t mind getting counseled by those one bit.”

“You pig. You're disgusting.”

“And You’re hilarious. See? This is why I keep you.” He pinched your cheek proudly as you swatted him away. “Now, do you want me to stop?” He asked bluntly, His eyes suddenly firm.

Did you want Jimin to stop being affectionate with you? God no. You just weren’t sure it meant to him what it meant to you. Or if it was selfish of you to allow it. But you couldn’t figure out how to word any of that. So instead of articulating your emotions like a healthy adult, you shook your head “no” heatedly, like a small child and he chuckled at you.

“Okay, then. Turn around and watch the movie. If I have to sit through three hours of this, the least you could do is enjoy it.” He ruffled your messy bun as you turned around to watch the movie, happily leaning your cheek against his knee. Admittedly, you were more content than you’d been in ages, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

About twenty minutes into the movie, you were still comfortably leaning into his sculpted calf when he muttered, “Now this we’ll have to do something about” before unceremoniously grabbing at the unraveling scrunchie holding your precarious bun together.

“Hey!” You yelped as he snatched at your hair. “The heck are you doing?” You barked.

“Calm down. I’m going to detangle this birds nest. It’s blocking my view,” He chuckled. “Eat your fried rice,” He sassed as he pivoted your head back toward the screen.

And so the night went, Jimin lazily running his smooth fingers through your hair as you happily munched on shrimp fried rice and lost all your fight as you got swept away in the beautiful movie playing on your screen. Occasionally you’d take a mental step back to savor how incredibly soft Jimin’s constant touch felt as he played in your hair and marvel that you’d survived this long without it. When he got so good at this and when he figured out you loved having your hair played with so much were questions you didn’t have the answer to, and you really didn’t need to as long as he kept doing it.

As much as you hated to admit it, even to yourself, he’d been right not to let you spend tonight alone. Occasionally, you’d glance back at him and he’d catch your eyes only for both of you to burst into a fit of giggles. He’d been right- good food, a good movie and good company was all you needed to get out of your funk.

When had he gotten so much smarter than you?

As the movie credits came to a close, You reluctantly rose up to your feet, stretching out your crumpled back like a little cat as your now loose hair tumbled down around you. Jimin took the opportunity to poke your stomach beside your belly button as he glided past you toward the kitchen and you yelped.

“You ready for a slice of cake, sunshine?” He chuckled. Tugging down your sweatshirt, you followed behind him into the kitchen before promptly climbing up to sit cross legged up on the island.

“Why not.” You chirped.

“Do my ears deceive me - or do you sound almost, dare I say, happy?” Jimin asked in mock surprise, hand to his chest.

“And what if I am?” You bit your lip, suppressing the smile threatening to burst across your face.

“Then I’ve done my job right.” He smiled, face swooping in dangerously close to yours, voice dropping to a timbre he rarely ever used as his thumb swiped just below your bottom lip. Your breath stilled in your chest, but instead of drawing closer, he threw his head back laughing, the bright brilliant sound crashing through the walls of your apartment.

He left you there, a fluttering mess, as he grabbed a beautiful cake knife from his industrial sized bag of birthday gifts, plus two gold forks and two small plates, each rimmed in gold and small flowers. “Now, we doing ladylike slices- or we going ham on this cake?”

Sputtering to find your voice again, you retorted a breathy “go big or go home” as he happily cut a massive wedge of cake, one for him, one for you before lithely hopping up beside you on the island. He happily swung his bare feet over the edge, elegant boots having been chucked off ages ago. “Happy birthday!” He giggled, clinking the edge of his plate against yours like a toast.

“Happy birthday,” you muttered back, shaking your head at him softly. What were you going to do with this man? You were grateful to shovel your mouth full of cake just so you wouldn’t have to talk again for the next few minutes.

“You eat birthday cake like a hamster,” Jimin laughed.

“You flirt like a hoe.” You piped back. “You don’t play fair.”

“Why would I? Fair’s no fun.” He tapped you on the nose with the tip of his fork.

“Hey!” You swiped at him. “Don’t waste the frosting! That’s a criminal offense in this house.”

“You gonna lock me up then, officer?” He waggled his eyebrows at you.

“Must everything be a joke to you, Park?” You huffed, parroting back his words to you from earlier.

“Oh come on. Lighten up. You know you love it. It’s the only reason I’m still alive to do it.” He bumped your elbow with his, his glittering eyes full of playful delight.

“Whether there’s any truth to that or not, ease up. You don’t see me cracking any of this crap back at you, and I don’t want to seize up and have a heart attack before I finish the great American novel. So…”

“Will I be in it, do you think?” He asked, coffee eyes inquisitive and bright.

“In what?” You asked dumbly.

“In your great American novel. Obviously.”

“I mean, I guess you could. You’d make a pretty convincing annoying ferret if you play your cards right.” You shrugged, popping another massive chunk of cake in your mouth. The icing was creamy decadence and you reveled in it as jimin sputtered at your response.

“A ferret?! You wound me, madam! is that all our friendship has meant to you?” His voice was indignant now.

“A talking ferret?” You offered. “But that’s the highest I’ll go.” You shrugged.

“How dare you.” He frowned. “ I don’t even make it in as a tragic hero? Some coming of age romance’s leading man? You’re gonna make me a weasel?” His voice was becoming shrill.

“Ferret. Not a weasel. A very stylish, talking ferret, who rides around on the heroine’s shoulders and accompanies her in her travels while providing her companionship and wise counsel.” You nod matter of factly.

“I’m your emotional support weasel?” His lip curled distastefully.

“Again, ferret. But yes, actually, that’s exactly what you are. You’re the constant that keeps the heroine sane and guides her on her journey. While wearing an assortment of adorable tiny stylish outfits.” You popped more cake in your mouth, pleased with yourself.

“Seriously? That’s it? Do I at least get to transform into a human from time to time?” the poor boy's wounded ego was trying its best to be optimistic.

“No, you stay travel size. So you can dutifully scurry out of the tent when the dreamy knight finally makes his move on me.” You sighed wistfully. But Jimin’s brows formed a decidedly flat frown.

“So I’m flounder?? From the little mermaid???”

“I don’t know how much wise counsel he gave, but he was definitely her best friend. Plus you both have the same cheeks.” You reached forward to pinch his supple face. Altogether too depressed to duck out of the way, Jimin opted instead to scowl at you for all he was worth while you teased him.

“You know flounder was in love with Ariel right? And she abandons him. Without hesitation. To get the guy. With no remorse. And he’s just left alone, terrified that she might not survive and knowing that even if she does, she’s never coming back for him!” Jimin looked horrified.

“Which is why I take the ferret WITH me instead of leaving him behind. But on to more important things, did you just accidentally confess your love to me? Oh jimin, after all this time.” Your eyes go mockingly wide.

“Don’t sass me right now woman. I thought you didn’t give me that kind of crap back?” He deadpanned.

“Just when I’m feeling extra feisty. Like you know, on my birthday.” You scrunched your nose, smiling back at him.

“Ha Ha. I’m taking my cake back.” He pouted.

“Not so fast.” You swipe a bite from the slice of cake on his plate, gobbling it up before he can stop you.

“Thief.” He scowled.

“Baby.” You stuck your tongue out.

“Don’t call me that outside the bedroom.”

“I don’t want to be in a bedroom with you.” You snapped defensively.

“That’s not what your eyes said earlier.” He teased, and just like that he had the upper hand again.

“Again with that? This is ridiculous! What are we even doing, chim?” You sighed, plopping your plate down.

“Careful with the china!” He scolded.

“I’m serious.” You cocked your head to the side. “Since when do we flirt and bait each other like this? What’s going on?” There was an exasperation in your eyes he hadn’t expected.

“We banter all the time,” he defended. Your half lidded eyes shot him a sharp “cut the crap” look, and he took a deep breath.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. The truth this time, chim. This feels different…” an unexpected wave of bravery swept over you. “and you know it too. You...you aren’t usually like this with me. All night you’ve been cheeky and flirty and touchy with me…. and whatever that was after you gave me the typewriter. You- you didn’t look like you then. You don’t ...look at me like that. What’s going on, Jimin? The truth this time.” Your eyes rounded with sincerity, and his cocky facade toppled.

“You’re not dropping this, are you?” He swallowed.

“Nope.”

“Fine….last chance to back out. You can’t unknow once you know.” His half smile was wobbly and unconvincing.

“Not a chance, Park. Spill.” Your eyes were firm, but kind. You watched Jimin’s shoulder rise and fall before he angled his torso in your direction, shuffling his words around in his mouth, tasting

them before he shared them with the world.

“Maybe,” he started. “Maybe this feels different because...it is. Maybe I’d had a plan.” He carded his hands through his hair as you watched him. “Get dressed to the nines. Take you out, treat you to champagne, make you laugh. Spin you around. Sing your favorite songs to you. Give you the best night of your life so you forget how hard you are on yourself for a little while.. make you feel special. Give you your gift. Then at the end of the night, when we’d be all happy and giddy, maybe…” he paused, drawing in a quick breath. “Maybe I’d finally have the courage to tell you I like you when I say goodnight and kiss you at the front door. Maybe I thought I’d be brave enough to do that tonight.” Jimin rests his elbows on his thighs, breathing out slowly, like he was trying to calm his body from going into shock before gathering his composure to meet your eyes.

You stare back at him- floored.

“So… when I cancelled everything?” You swallowed.

“I had to scramble to salvage my plan.” He shrugged honestly. “I'd been working up the nerve to tell you for months, y/n. I knew I’d lose my nerve if I didn’t tell you tonight.” His deep eyes met yours with a “what can you do” smirk.

“But I’ve been a brat to you all night.” You felt awful.

“In your defense, it was a pretty big birthday. Existential crises really make beasts of us all.” His boyish smile was warm and adorable.

“I feel like a monster.” Your face fell. You’d been difficult and obnoxious all night and all along, here he’d been gearing up the nerve to spill his heart to you. If it was possible, you liked yourself even less than earlier. You were beyond belligerent with yourself- if any other girl had done even half of this to Jimin you would have pulled her hair out. But you were the offending party this time and what did that make you?

“Don’t.” Jimin chided, like he could read your thoughts across your face. “I haven’t been any better. And that dumb comment I made about your eyes earlier?” He cringed at himself. “Honestly, I had a 50/50 shot that it would work because I have caught the way you’ve been looking at me lately, but... I’ve only caught you because I was already looking.” He confessed, reaching out to play with your fingers on the counter with his. For the first time in your entire friendship, Your poised, elegant best friend looked unsure of himself with you- impossibly confident Park Jimin a sheepish, love struck little boy with you- and it positively liquefied you.

“Jimin. I-“ was all you could get out before you got lost in the angles of his face again, unsure of how you got here. He’d always been the brave one. You weren't sure how this is supposed to go if your cowardly heart had to be in charge. But luckily, he saved you again and continued.

“So, I figured- You’d either been looking at me that way because my feelings were stupid obvious, and I was making things weird and embarrassing myself OR... you were looking at me like that because... you wanted to kiss me as badly as I wanted to kiss you.” He swallowed, eyes locked on yours.

This was it.

If there was ever a moment to speak up, you had to do it now. His beautiful brown eyes were swirling with something beautiful now that you’d only ever seen one other time. You recognized it now. It was the same look he’d had when he’d cradled your face earlier and something had almost come over him. You knew that look now. You had a name for it- This was how Park Jimin looked when he wanted to kiss you.

Hopping down off the island, Jimin regarded you with confusion as you came to stand between his legs. Your eyes were wide and trusting as they met his. Part of him feared you’d come down to politely turn him down so he braced himself as he silently studied the face he knew best in the world. Whatever you were about to say, he’d buckle down and take it.

“I have been fighting liking you for longer than I’ve been your friend, Park. Some part of me has always liked you. You’re beautiful and sweet and lovable- what was I supposed to do? Every girl we knew was in love with you. And I was no different, even if I couldn’t admit it to myself. Once we became close, I already felt so spoiled to have you in my life at all that I’d get mad at myself for not being content and wanting more. But….” your eyes flicked down, your fingers coming up to gently trace the fullness of his lips. “But, if you can feel this too,if...you want more than this too then… maybe, we can be greedy together?”

Your eyes were hopeful and Jimin burst into a smile so wide and so bright, it put your fairy lights to shame. “God, that would be amazing.” He said, his cool ringed fingers scooping your face up and tracing your jaw’s edges.

“So, if you still wanted to kiss me, maybe that could be something we tr-“

Mmmph.

Any words you’d had were shoved back behind your lips as his face dipped down to press a heavenly, gentle kiss to them. And god, it was everything. He was warm and soft, all consuming as he slipped down from the counter to hold you properly. His fingers slipped back into your hair as you got lost in the spun sugar taste of his lips. Your palms found his chest, clutching on to fistfuls of silk as the kiss deepened and Jimin pulled you close.

It was better than you could’ve ever imagined it would be and without realizing it, you’d started smiling, a sparkling laugh spilling out of your chest before you could catch it. He beamed back at you, forehead pressed against you as his smooth perfect nose traced yours.

“What?” He chuckled. “You should never laugh after kissing a man for the first time. Sure fire way to wreck his ego.” He teased.

“Even if he kisses as good as you?” You blushed, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s terrible how fragile masculinity is.” Your banter had none of its usual punch. You were too dreamy eyed over whatever spell he’d just cast on you to put any real bite to it.

“It is, isn’t it? But I don’t think that’s what we’re talking about here.” His fingers played with the ends of your hair as his other hand scooped your waist against him. Foreheads still resting against each other, you tried to steady your breath only to inhale more of his citrus cologne and get woozy over experiencing so much of him all at once.

“What- uh, what are we talking about then?” You’d just barely gotten that out, all the fluidity of a gasping fish. Jimin’s eyes sparkled as beamed down at you.

“I think we were talking about how the timeline of that confession means you’ve been lying through your teeth when you tell me you don’t want me to call you baby. Isn’t that right, jagiya?” He quirked a devilish brow at you.

“You pompous little- it’s still my birthday. I will have none of your insubordination.” You smacked him in the chest with a dull thud. Not much room to wind up when you were pressed this close to him.

“Just let me loooove you,” He sang airily at you as you shook your head and looked away.

“Cut it out.” You smothered your smile.

“Just let me looooove YOUUUU.” He continued, tracing his nose along the shell of your ear as he sang softly and pulled you close. This time, you didn’t resist as he scooped you up. This time, here were no pillows thrown, no fighting, no defensive words. This time, you melted into the sweetest man you’d ever known and let him catch you.

You felt your shoulders sink as realization hit you- all this time, while you thought you were bearing up under your feelings all alone, your best friend had loved you too.

The boy you felt safest with, the boy you were most yourself around, the boy who’d been by your side so long you couldn’t bear the idea of imagining life without him- he was as enamored by you as you were by him. He’d planned this whole night for you. He’d gone out of his way to show you how much he cared. He’d refused to let you feel alone on the most important day of the year. He’d been braver than you in every way and reached out to your heart when you hadn’t had the words to find his. For that, you’d always be grateful.

Somewhere in the midst of your revelation, your eyes had gone misty. Jimin lovingly brushed a thumb across your cheek to catch your rogue tears for the thousandth time tonight as your eyes went starry. You looked up at him, the whole cosmos swirling in your eyes, and gave him a terribly undignified wobbly sniffle.

“I think I love you, Chim.” you whispered.

“Is that going to be a problem?” His eyes were sweet as he watched you.

“Really screws up my novel.” You sniffled.

“Does it make it worse if I say I love you too?” He asked innocently.

“Drat, does this mean I have to make you the knight now instead of the weasel? Cuz that’s really gonna wreck my whole outline.”

“I thought I was a ferret?” He chuckled warmly.

“We both know you were a weasel. You’d been planning to take me karaoking. You know how I get on stage in front of crowds. No ferret. Full weasel.” You asserted calmly.

“Damn. Fair enough. Well, can I be the knight if I sway you with a high quality animated film first?” He’d never looked at you more fondly, all the world’s stars hidden in the pocket of his cheek as his lips curl into a smile at you.

“Depends. Will there be something to drink?” You queried, chin tilted in suspicion.

“Hot tea.” He offered.

“What kind?” You squint.

“Chamomile?”

“Too basic.”

“Earl Grey?”

“Fresh out.”

“Lavender then.”

“Acceptable” You nodded. “Will…” you hesitate. “.. will there be someone to cuddle with?” Glancing up at him, you were bashful all of sudden to admit how much you didn’t want to lose his touch now that you’d gotten it.

“For as long as you’ll have him.” He booped the tip of your nose with his, giddy at the idea of staying beside you.

“Good. That’s all I wanted.” You nodded matter of factly, before quickly adding-“Will he keep his rings on?” You blushed, fiddling with his hand.

“You like them! I knew you liked them! You brought my jewelry up way too much not to.” His smile was positively electric.

“Oh Geeze. Calm down. Forget I said anything.” You muttered regretfully. But before you could shuffle back any further, He happily caught you off guard with a smacking kiss to your temple.

“This is going to be so much fun messing with you.”

Suddenly, he was picking you up by the waist, spinning you both in a circle. “I’M DATING MY BEST FRIEND!!!” He hollered.

Giggling wildly in his arms, you held on tight but popped his shoulder for good measure. “Jimin! Are you insane? Put me down, you idiot! The neighbors will hear!” But there was no fight in your words- just giddy, blissful glee. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this happy.

“No!” He laughed. “I’m not putting you down until you say it too.”

“But we haven’t even discussed this!” You protested through another fit of giggles.

“Please, we’re basically dating now anyway.” He challenged.

“Fair point…. but Jimin, stop for a second. Put me down yeah?”

Chest panting as he stopped and set you down, his eyes found yours as he smiled that million dollar smile at you that-oh god- you’d get to have all to yourself, all the time now. You swallowed a delicious thrill at the thought.

“What is it, love?” He beamed, brushing your hair out of your eyes with his fingers as you blushed at his endearment.

“Promise me we won’t lose this? If we do date, I mean. I do want to date you- actually be with you, and get to kiss you and be your girl when we’re out with our friends. God. I’d love that. But just, we can’t lose this- the friendship. That spark that makes us special. You can’t go all gooey soft on me if I’m your girlfriend and I still have to be allowed to call you on your nonsense.” Your face was soft, nervous to ask him for some reason. Scared you sounded ridiculous perhaps.

“God I’m in love with you.” Jimin pulled you in for another kiss. This one airy, sentimental, light. He pulled back, kissing your nose, both cheeks and your forehead. “Y/n, if that’s your only rule, you can have it.” He laughed. “Be obnoxious and prickly and sassy all you want- just, you have to learn to let me in. I’m gonna go overboard and love you and kiss your neck in public and tell my mom we’re dating and remind you that you’re the best writer I’ve ever read when you call your work crap. And I’m gonna tell you how wonderful you are all the goddamn time while you look at me like I’ve got a third eye, and you’ll love it but you’ll act like you don’t. And that’s fine, y/n, but promise me- you have to start letting that love in. Even just a little at a time. Cuz I’m not going anywhere, and it’s not going to stop so you’re gonna have to start accepting the fact that someone thinks you’re beautiful.”

He kissed your nose again

You blushed.

“And kind.” He kissed your cheek.

“And talented.” The other cheek

“And hilarious.” Your forehead.

“And that i'm not going anywhere no matter how much you push. Cuz... you’re kind of it for me.”

And finally,

he kissed your lips again.

Lingering and slow as you unraveled in his hands. You felt dizzy when he pulled back.

“I’ll always be your best friend, and you let me in, yeah? Even if it’s slowly.” He raised his pinky in the air between you. Usually you’d make some crack about how small his pinky was- some nasty comment you didn’t mean because, actually, honestly, you loved his hands. You just didn’t know what to do with all the tremendous affection you felt for every part of him, so you flung it back at him as teasing. But not this time.

No, this time, you’d say what you meant, what you felt. Because Jimin would understand. Jimin reciprocates it. And there wasn’t anyone you’d risk your heart for more than him. Because, was it a risk, if the person loved you as much as you now knew Jimin did?

So, slipping your pinky into his, you hooked your hands together, kissing his palm and the spot where your fingers interlocked.

“Jiminie, I might be really bad at this. But I really lik- I…. love you. So I’ll try. Just, be patient with me, yeah?” Your rounded eyes searched his, hunting for any apprehension he may have in linking his heart with yours but finding none.

“For you? I’ve got all the patience in the world. But you wanna know a secret?” He whispered conspiratorially.

“What?” You breathed back, just as hushed. You were genuinely at a loss for where he was going with this.

“You aren’t bad at anything you do, y/n. You just think you are. I just won the lottery with you.” He was right back to eyeing you like he’d just captured the most precious treasure in the world and in the best way, it absolutely overwhelmed you.

“Chim. God, you’re gonna make me cry.” You gushed.

“Nonsense, no tears on your birthday. I’ve worked too hard to give you a great day- don’t you dare ruin it. AGAIN.” He flared his nostrils at you in warning and you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Fine, Fine. Make the tea. I’ll get the next movie set up.” You conceded. Squeezing you into a tight hug, Jimin kissed your hair, muttering a soft “you got it” into your crown before pressing you into him with one last tug and turning on his heel to find the kettle.

Looking back toward the box of movies, your feet carried you, light as air, back to the couch. Every now and then, as you picked the next movie, your eyes drifted back to him. Drinking in the sweep of his hair, the glittering edges of the smile permanently fixed to his face, the happy, contented eyes of your best friend who was more than your best friend now. In the span of one night, he’d come barreling in and crashed the gate around your heart with the most bizarre choice of weapons- his gentle voice, his infectious laugh and his wild, kind, massive heart.

He’d loved you until you realized it was safe to love him back. And Everything in you wanted to memorize this night that almost didn’t happen: he’d been right, your friendship never did get anywhere without him.

You were terrified, but you’d also never felt more alive or more loved in your life. And perhaps that was the best of the many gifts he’d given you tonight. Hope. And love. Looking back over his shoulder, he caught the sentimental gleam in your eye and smiled warmly at you.

“Already boldly staring at my ass, I see. See? You’ll make a great girlfriend.” He winked, as you shook your head happily at him.

Giggling, you shot back with, “I always stare at it. That’s just the first time I let you catch me.” You stated matter of factly.

“You know what? I believe that.” He nodded as he came back to the couch to sit beside you. Handing you your mug, he rested his free arm on the back of your couch as you dutifully snuggled against him, relishing in how much he already felt like home. You knew you shouldn’t make homes out of people. And you wouldn’t ….but right now, the warmth radiating off his body and the coolness of his silk shirt were too soothing for you to stay cooped up alone in your head anymore.

You’d much rather be here- snuggling in the arms of your best friend, who’d be your friend and your love and more than that all at once, and letting the world fall to bits outside as you finally opened up your heart to him. It was your birthday, you had a cup of tea that was sickly sweet from too much honey, your favorite movie was playing, and you were with Jimin.

You didn’t need anything else.

Tipping his head, he rested his cheek against your hair, his spare fingertips tracing the edge of your sleeve. And for possibly the first time on this whole entire mixed up day- you felt yourself fully relax.

Nothing could be more perfect than this.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.” He whispered, a petal soft kiss pressed to forehead as he did. “I hope it was wonderful.”

“The absolute best.” You smiled, eyes teary with love and relief. “Don’t know how you’re topping this one.”

“Oh I’ll come up with something.” He assured, his voice sweet as the honey in your tea.

“Hey Chim,” Your voice the ghost of a whisper.

“Yeah?” He pulled back to watch as much of your face as he could see.

“You were my wish.” You said simply, no frills, no whistles. Just heart aching truth.

Silence hung in the air for a beat as you smiled contentedly into his chest and took a sip of your tea. The silence wasn’t unpleasant. Far from it, it felt warm and complete. You hadn’t needed to get anything back, you’d just wanted him to know.

“I think... that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Jimin whispered, almost to himself. Another beat. “You are a miraculous thing y/n l/n….. I love you….Happy birthday.”

He breathed, a soft kiss brushing the top of your hair as you both sank into each other- the first night of a million more to come - finally complete with your heart’s other half.

-fin.

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