#wifey gave it the title

[btsgotjams27]

the back-up plan | jjk

summary: one drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.

💖 title: the back-up plan | one-shot 💖 pairing: jungkook x f!reader | 💖 genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?) 💖 rating: SFW | 18+ | 💖 word count: 18.1k | 💖 playlist 💖 warnings: jungkook & reader are both 29, reader is a hopeless romantic (what else is new with my characters?), jungkook is always pining and head over heels in love, jungkook is sweet and in luvrrr but he’s bad at feelings and tells some terrible lies (don’t hate him—ok!!), reader has a skewed view of relationships and what's expected of her, jungkook calls her wifey, hot and seggsy neighbor!namjoon (yes, pls), shirtless namjoon (2x), kissing, hand-holding, some suggestive language, mentions of erotic art and positions, first dates, alcohol consumption, reader has her belly button pierced, talks of tattoos & getting them, mentions of needles, and idk some things may come off as cheesy??? but it's a romance story so idk take what you will, light angst (you should know me by now!!), jungkook gets a lil drunk (pls drink responsibly), jealous jk comes out, love confessions 💖 a/n: the plot is a bit ridiculous, but that's the point! it's fiction (lol), i hope y'all enjoy it for what it is. the idea came from a tweet I saw, but ofc, I can't find it! so thank you to whoever tweeted it! and, happy birthday to the loml, jeon jungkook (this was supposed to be out for his birthday, but my brain said no). i also have to thank holly (@alphabetboyluvr). i respect her so much as a writer and friend, and I was super scared to ask her to even look at my outline, but she's always so sweet and willing. i couldn't have done this without her help, her comments, and suggestions <3 (i'd also recommend listening to the playlist while reading :)) and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts 💖

sunday.

Another day has passed, and it’s creeping closer to your birthday. They’re supposed to be joyous, celebratory occasions–and you love feeling special, showered with love and gifts. What more could a person want?

But you had a clear goal before hitting the big 3-0: get married–or at least be engaged to be married.

Most girlfriends your age were still having fun, enjoying life, and not ready to settle down. You’re unsure if your upbringing or society’s expectations distorted you, but you were fond of marriage and finding the one to spend your life with.

You also blamed the hopeless romantic in you when you dragged every one of your girlfriends with you to see the new romantic comedy, giggled, and kicked your feet when reading the latest best-selling romance novel.

The thing was, you were so close to getting engaged. You and your boyfriend, Theo, of eight months–well, ex-boyfriend–discussed it openly from the beginning of your relationship. And not even two weeks ago, he broke up with you out of the blue and gave no clear explanation.

You sat in bed debating whether to download your old dating apps again. Your birthday was in six days, and you knew you wouldn’t find a suitable mate before your birthday, but at least you could try, right?

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 PM Happy ‘almost 30th’ birthday.

You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:28 PM Are you still crying over Theodore Boner?

You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:29 PM 🤣🤣🤣 You were saved from that one. Imagine having the last name Boner.

You rolled your eyes at the text from Jungkook, throwing your phone beside you as you curled under your duvet.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

“What do you want, Kook?”

“You gotta admit, ____ Boner sounds awful,” Jungkook laughed as he pushed back in his recliner.

“I’m hanging up!” you threatened, getting ready to push the end button.

"No, no! I'm kidding. You would've made a great Mrs. Boner."

"Bye–Kook."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm done, I promise."

"I had a whole plan. What am I supposed to do now? My birthday is in six days," you groaned, covering your face with the duvet.

"You don't remember our agreement, do you?"

You brought the cover down. Curious about his comment. "What agreement?"

💖💖💖

Before this most recent one, your ex, Jimin, had broken up with you, and you were on the rebound, looking for a good time. Jungkook came to the rescue, saving you from your next mistake. He took you out for drinks, let you drown in your sorrows, and the two of you got pretty drunk. You could only remember bits and pieces of your conversation.

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by 30,” Jungkook suggests.

“You wanna marry me? But I’m such a mess.”

Your dating life, career, friends, and family were fine.

“Yeah, why not. We get along. You seem a little kinky in bed and make a mean spaghetti dish.”

“Is that all I’m good for? Sex and spaghetti?”

“That sounds like a bad porn film waiting to happen. No, but I'm serious. If we're still single, let’s get married.”

You wave him off. “Kook, you’re drunk. You’re just saying whatever.”

“Yeah, I'm drunk, but I'm serious about this.” 

He gets up, looks around, sees a straw wrapper, and ties it around your finger. He's on one knee before you.

“____, will you marry me? Hypothetically, of course, if we’re both still single by 30.”

You shake your head at your loveable friend. It was hard to say no. How could you?

“You’re so dumb.”

“See. You can write that in your vows,” Jungkook jokes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, you are pretty cute, and I can stand being around you,” you tease.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

You smack his arm. “Is this how you’re wooing your future wife?”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can’t believe how beautiful my future wife is.”

You’re unsure if it’s the alcohol making you susceptible and vulnerable to your good friend asking you to marry him or if it was because you were on the rebound. But what’s the harm? If you couldn’t find someone by 30, then you’d get to marry a good friend.

“That's more like it. Why yes, Jeon Jungkook. I will marry you if I'm still single by 30.”

💖💖💖

You let out a cackle. “Oh shit–I agreed to that?”

Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”

But Jungkook’s messing around, right? He was a good friend and comforted you in your time of need. There’s no way he’d want to spend the rest of his life with you. Plenty of suitable women were fawning over him, and now you’ve noticed you've never seen him with a girlfriend.

“You’re–you’re not serious, are you?” You stumble over your words, going into panic mode.

Why would Jeon Jungkook choose you, of all people, to want to marry? He could have anyone at any time.

No, you shook off the thought. You couldn’t lock him into a loveless marriage.

Jungkook licks his lips, tongue flicking his lip ring back and forth.

You shifted in bed and cleared your throat. “Aren’t you seeing that one girl?”

It wasn’t hard to notice when she practically hung onto him like a lovesick puppy.

Jungkook makes a face, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s nothing serious.”

You give him a blank expression. “Nothing serious? Kook, she’s practically foaming at the mouth and shooting heart eyes when you’re around.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That could be you, too.”

You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.

“Just saying,” he adds.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way if it is serious.” You surely didn’t want to become a homewrecker.

He waves his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t back down from promises I make.”

Your lips turn into a pout, and you tilt your head, wondering why he’d ditch Clingy Chloe and commit to a drunken promise. “What’s in it for you?”

He seems offended by your question, so he scoffs. “I mean, I’m just trying to save you from a future where you’re an old lady with 50 cats, collecting newspapers that pile up from the floor to the ceiling, and then you show up on an episode of Hoarders.”

You chuckle. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.

“I mean, marriage is a pretty serious thing, and we’re friends getting married because we have no one else?” The sentiment seems ridiculous once you say it aloud.

“What? You don’t think I'll be a good husband?” 

“No, I didn't say that. I think you’d be a great one, actually.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Don’t think you can handle me?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes at your cocky friend. “I don’t know, Kook. What if I meet someone, or what if you meet someone?”

“You don’t think I can make you fall in love with me?” he asks, ignoring your question.

Your nose scrunches, and you laugh. “No.”

“Oh, well, that sounds like a challenge, and you’re lucky I love a little competition.”

He’s not going to let this go, is he?

You settle into the plush of your pillows. “Okay–tell you what, if you can make me fall in love with you within the week, I’ll consider marrying you.”

What would you have to lose? Being wined and dined by a cute guy? What girl would pass up this opportunity?

“Deal.”

💖💖💖

monday.

Your everyday routine consists of rolling out of bed, logging into work, checking your emails, and then sitting on the couch until you get a support ticket from someone who forgot their password for the umpteenth time.

It’s a great gig, and now you’re glad you went into the right field of work.

You’re on your random binge of rewatching The Fast and the Furious saga. Your friends always make fun of you, but you can’t help it. It’s a guilty pleasure of yours.

“You got some sexy legs. When do they open?” Roman says with a grin.

You burst out laughing. The dialogue is so bad, yet somehow, these movies keep getting made. You must be the target audience.

The doorbell rings and it’s 8:30 AM. Who is here this early? You didn’t buy anything online while you were drunk, did you?

You peek through the viewfinder, and it’s blocked by something yellow. You can’t see the delivery person’s face when you open the door.

“Special delivery for ___,” the person says in a deep voice.

“That’s me.”

And out from behind the flowers, Jeon Jungkook pops out. “Happy birthday week,” he says in a sing-song voice.

Your heart settles when you realize it's your friend or future husband. “What are you doing here?”

You notice two grocery bags on the ground next to him. He hands you the flowers and picks them up.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” He raises his eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe.

Real clothes and makeup don’t exist when you're working from home.

“Cute slippers,” he points out as you stare at your fluffy white bunny slippers.

You sigh, grabbing his arm to drag him into your apartment. As you’re about to close the door, you notice moving boxes outside the apartment next to yours. Hmm, someone new must be moving in.

“Is this what you look like underneath all that makeup?” he asks, making himself comfortable in your kitchen. The two bags are on the counter, and he’s going through the cupboards to find a vase.

“Top left above the sink,” you say.

He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting company. Otherwise, I would’ve put on some decent clothing.”

And a bra, you think as you cross your arms, covering your chest.

Jungkook shakes his head. “You look good in anything, and with or without makeup. You’ll be my future wifey, so there’s no need to look for good me. We can just be comfortable with each other, right?”

You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow. He’s serious about this, isn’t he? You suppose you wouldn’t mind playing along to see how far he would go.

A man ready and willing to commit to marriage? You must be living in your romantic film.

You nod. “Right, we’re friends, possibly moving onto more than friends–well, actually, straight to marriage,” you chuckle, "but I’ve always felt comfortable around you, Kook.”

He flashes a warm smile. “Good, then everything will be easy, peasy lemon squeezy.”

He’s cute, you think.

“I hope you like mimosas,” he says as he unloads the groceries from the bags.

Bread, eggs, bacon, strawberries, orange juice, and champagne.

“Are you making me breakfast?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the man in the yellow beanie and white Nike shirt.

“Consider it your birthday breakfast, wifey,” he jokes, peering in your cupboards for a pan.

“Right side next to the oven.”

“Ah, I gotta remember this if I’m gonna be cooking here more often.” He whistles, setting the pan on the stove.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t you have to work today?”

“Nah–called in sick. It’s my wife’s birthday week. I have to shower her with all the love.” He wiggles his eyebrows and puckers his lips.

It’s funny to see Jeon Jungkook act this way. He’s always been playful and flirty the two years you’ve known him, but this must’ve been his way of pulling out all his cards of wooing a woman.

💖💖💖

“Breakfast is ready,” Jungkook yells from the kitchen.

A support ticket from work came through, distracting you from your movie and Jungkook.

“‘Kay! Almost done.” You recheck your work emails, ensuring everything is complete.

This time, you put on a bra, change into a decent shirt, and put on a skin tint and blush to make yourself look alive.

You stroll into the kitchen, and Jungkook perfectly displays the sunflowers on the counter and two delicious breakfast plates. The champagne flutes are filled to the brim and topped off with a beautifully sliced strawberry.

“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”

He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”

The two of you sit beside each other, digging into the breakfast spread.

“What’s that one movie you wanted to watch again?” Jungkook asks before he sips his mimosa.

Your mouth is full, and you chew quickly to answer him. “The one on Netflix?” He hums. “Wedding Season.”

“Sounds like the perfect movie for us to watch this week.”

“You’re into rom-coms?”

“I love ‘em.”

“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”

“I don’t know why you never ask me to watch them, but you’ll ask the girls.”

You look down at your food before catching his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d be into them, so I never asked. And you don’t seem like the hopeless romantic type.”

“I mean, growing up, I wasn’t. My parents didn’t have a fairytale romance, so I didn’t believe in love for a long time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So, someone must’ve changed your mind then?”

He hums, not wanting to admit who made it an exception.

You nudge his arm. “Are you gonna tell me, or will I have to pry it out of you?”

He chuckles, not saying a word.

You scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me? Keeping secrets from your wife already? Rude,” you tut.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.

The two of you finish breakfast, and Jungkook insists on doing the dishes. You set your plate in the sink and clutch onto his arm, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

💖💖💖

tuesday.

You take the morning off to run errands for your upcoming birthday extravaganza. And you’re struggling to hit the lock button on your keypad while holding a heavy box of birthday decor.

When you finally hear the whirring of the lock and chime, you turn around, bumping into someone, dropping your box, and knocking over a handful of books.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, quickly picking up as many books as possible, and he picks up your birthday decor.

The man reaches for the pink heart-shaped sunglasses and other pink-colored decor. “Someone must be celebrating big,” the man’s dimpled smile displayed.

Your fingers accidentally touch his when you switch his books for your decor. You clear your throat, trying not to ogle the man. “Um, yeah, it’s for my birthday.”

He perks up. “Oh?” He flashes a thin smile. “Happy birthday.”

A breath gets caught in your throat, and you struggle to get any words out. “Uh, my birthday is actually on Saturday,” you finally croak out. “But, you must be my new neighbor.”

“Yeah, I’m Namjoon. I just moved in this past weekend.”

Oh, this is bad. Really bad.

He’s tall, has beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair, and you could live in his dimples.

“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”

“Sorry about bumping into you, and it’s nice to meet you too. I hope you have a good birthday,” he says before picking up one last book on the ground.

“Are you doing anything this weekend? You can come if you want.”

After you ask, you want to kick yourself in the bum. Inviting a man you just met. What if he’s a weirdo? But how can he be if he’s reading ‘A Bigger Message Conversations with David Hockney.’ You may have managed to peek at one of his books.

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding! I’m inviting you, and you can’t say no to the birthday girl,” you tease, adjusting the box in your arms.

A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re right. It’d be messed up to say no to the birthday girl.”

“So, you’ll come?” you ask, and a smile grows from ear to ear.

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

The two of you exchange information before you leave to finish your errands. You’re beaming down the street while carrying your box of decor.

You didn’t expect to find someone cute and endearing so quickly. And you’re surprised he said yes to your party. Maybe he’s new in town and wants to make friends. It would be a good way for him to get acquainted, and a part of you hoped you’d keep bumping into him in the halls.

💖💖💖

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 AM Wanna do a movie night today? We could watch Wedding Season.

You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:35 AM Is 6 okay? I can bring dinner too.

You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.

It's six on the dot, and you hear a knock on your door. You suppose Jungkook is the type to show up right on time, which you greatly appreciate.

He holds a six-pack of beer and a pizza box when you open the door.

"Ready for movie night?"

It’s halfway through the film, and you’re enjoying it. You love the fake dating trope because you could always count on the two mains to fall for each other.

"Are you cold?" Jungkook asks when he sees you tuck your hands in between your thighs.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Come here."

He opens his arm to cuddle, and you blink expressionless at him. The most intimate thing you’ve done with him is hug him–a side hug.

He laughs when you don’t move. “What? Scared I’ll bite?”

“No—it’s just that cuddling is an intimate thing to do,” you admit.

Arms and legs become entangled. Bodies are warming up against each other. Possibilities of things progressing.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you have a throw blanket somewhere?” He looks around and sees a woven basket next to the couch. He grabs a white fluffy throw for you.

Jungkook gives you an out, and for that, you’re grateful.

“Thanks,” you say as you snuggle in the blanket.

He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”

Even though you rejected Jungkook’s invitation to cuddle, somehow, by the end of the movie, the two of you had fallen asleep—cuddling.

You didn’t pull away from him yet. You peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall. Light snores escape his lips, and now and again, he puffs out a breath like a whale coming up for air, making you chuckle.

You rest your chin on his chest, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this before waking him up.

“Kook,” you whisper, gently shaking him. “Kook,” you repeat.

He hums, popping his head up while his eyes are still closed. He flutters them open and immediately sits up, wiping the drool that’s dried on his chin. He clears his throat. “Um—how long was I asleep for?”

You giggle. “We both fell asleep. I blame the beer,” you say, stretching your arms.

Jungkook can’t help but notice the shiny piece of jewelry hanging from your navel. “You have your belly button pierced?” he asks with a raised brow.

You quickly pull down your shirt. “It was a dumb thing I did when I turned 21.”

“It’s cute.”

You shy away from his comment. At times, you forget you have it.

“What else are you hiding, hm?” Jungkook asks.

You scoff. “Nothing. I only have my ears and my belly button pierced.”

“No tattoos?”

Tattoos are cool on other people, and you toyed with the idea of getting one. You were indecisive about what to get.

You shook your head no. “Maybe one day.”

“Get one for your 30th. I’ll go with you. I know a guy,” he teases, pointing out the ink on his skin.

“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”

He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”

A tattoo, huh? You’ve always wanted to see how high your pain threshold was. “I’ll think about it.”

“Just let me know, and I’ll get an appointment with the guy I always go to. I only trust him.”

Jungkook stands, proceeding to clean up the mess you two made.

“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”

He looks at the clock. It’s nearly midnight, and he still needs to wash up.

You walk him to the door, holding it open for him to leave. “Kook?”

Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”

You’re unsure what comes over you, but you pull him in for a hug. Only this time, it doesn’t feel like a friendly hug. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, then he wraps his arms around you. Every ounce of his body presses against yours, and you fit perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. His fresh, clean scent invades your nose, and you wish it could linger for a bit longer while his hand snakes to the nape of your neck, fingers curling in your hair.

Why do you feel more vulnerable when sleeping next to him now than earlier? Is it because you’re awake and aware of your intentions? The question was, what were your intentions? Did you want this? Did you really want him?

You withdrew from the embrace, bidding him farewell. He gives a small wave before disappearing into the elevator.

As you enter your apartment and shut the door, you repeatedly knocked the back of your head against it, muttering, ‘fuck.’ You were playing along to see how far Jungkook would go before calling it quits, but you failed to see that maybe—just maybe you could be falling too.

Hoseok’s minding his business, eating his ramen when he sees his roommate walk in. Jungkook looks like he’s floating on cloud nine, beaming from ear to ear. There’s even a hop in his step. He twirls around, daintily sitting beside Hoseok.

Hoseok scans his friend, watching him as he breathes a happy sigh and stares into the distance.

“What’s going on with you?” He raises a brow and narrows his eyes.

Jungkook giggles and scrunches his shoulders. “I just came back from cuddling with ___,” he says as he continues in his reveries.

“Oh, boy. Everyone, can I please have your attention,” Hoseok cups his mouth into a megaphone, “Jeon Jungkook has officially gone off the deep end. He thinks being delulu is the solulu.”

Jungkook glares at his friend and kicks him under the table. “Yah–aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”

Hoseok slurps his noodles. “Of course, I’m rooting for you. You’re my best bud,” he says as he places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he pats Hoseok’s hand. “Now–be an even better friend, and let me raid your closet for ___’s party.”

Jungkook lies in bed; his bicep flexes when he moves his hand behind his head. He’s watching an array of colors flash across the vastness of his room. The northern lights and stars twirl and sparkle like the movements of butterflies and the ones milling around his stomach for days.

Is this what being in love feels like, he thinks. It’s like he’s living in the romance movies he’s watched. Boy meets girl, boy, and girl fall in love, and they live happily ever after.

This is it. This must be it. His chance to be with you–the one he’s fallen completely head over heels for.

If the Jungkook from four years ago were to see him today, he’d laugh and call him a simp, especially with how he’s at your beck and call.

But the Jungkook, from four years ago, was a cynic. He had no healthy or loving relationships around him until he met you through Hoseok. And, even though you were with someone at the time, he saw how kind and wonderful you were to your friends and could only imagine the kind of love you’d show toward someone special.

There were only a few more days until your party, and he was determined to make each day count.

wednesday.

Since Monday, Jungkook has surprised you every day with a gift. They were his attempts to make you fall in love with you, along with his random trips to your place. 

Today’s gift was a pair of pink seashell earrings. Jungkook tells you he spent hours making it from clay, then baked them in the oven. You shook your head, wondering how he got an idea like this. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gift.

He texted throughout the day, leaving cute words of encouragement or sending TikToks of funny videos he’d find. Maybe this was his love language, taking the time out of his day to let you know he’s thinking about you.

As your day winds down, you’re scrolling through YouTube, and what catches your eye at 7 p.m.? Dessert videos.

And that’s your worst toxic trait—thinking you can bake. It always looks easy enough. If they can do it, so can you.

That is, until you’re in the kitchen, halfway through a recipe, and notice you’re out of sugar. The grocery store is too far and will close when you get there.

See what happens when you decide to bake? It always goes differently than you want.

You could call Jungkook to see if he has any or walk over to your new neighbor’s place. The latter was plausible since Namjoon was only a few feet away.

You shook off the nerves, flattened your apron, and lightly knocked on Namjoon’s door. You could hear shuffling as he unlocked it.

Your eyes widened, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Namjoon’s half-naked, black shorts hung dangerously low on his waist. His forehead is glistening with sweat.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” you ask while trying to keep your gaze in line with his and not ogling his chiseled body.

Shit—maybe he had company over.

He cards his hand through his platinum blonde hair, but a few pieces fall back, covering his eyes. “No, you’re good. I just finished working out. What’s up?” he asks. His hand holds the door open as he leans against it.

You’re dumbfounded, unable to form words again. It’s like a giant hairball stuck in your throat.

Namjoon’s brows raise, and he calls out to you.

“Oh, sorry!” you say. “I’m attempting to bake a cake but I'm out of sugar. I wanted to ask if you have any I can borrow.”

“I think I do,” he ponders as he steps back. “Come in. Come in.”

You step into a squeaky clean apartment. Didn’t he just move in? How does someone unpack so quickly? Or maybe he had little to begin with.

His apartment was like a museum, with pottery, sculptures, and art prints adorning his walls and shelves. But what catches your attention is the translucent, cylindrical coffee table. It doesn’t seem like anyone should be putting anything on it.

Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.

“Ah, thank you so much! Now my cake batter won’t go to waste.”

“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.

Granted, this man is still half-naked, standing beside you. You’re trying not to go feral over how broad and built he is.

“This, actually,” you point to the glass coffee table.

“That’s probably one of my most prized possessions.”

“It looks expensive.” You’d later come to find out it was worth $1.2M after you did an internet search.

“It is,” he chuckles. “It’s on loan from a friend.”

“On loan?” you ask, turning to him. Your eyes narrow and lips thin. “Can I ask what you do for work?”

“I’m an art curator.”

That makes sense now, considering the expensive and extensive art collection.

“Oh—you’re so fancy,” you tease. “I don’t know shit about art.” You could stand before a painting and feel nothing while looking at it. Maybe you were just going in with the wrong mindset.

Namjoon chuckles. “You can always ask me questions,” he notes before walking away to put on a t-shirt.

You’re a bit disappointed that you can’t ogle him anymore.

“Well, I can’t ask you questions if you don’t take me to a museum,” you flirt, turning toward him.

He grins, showing off his pearly whites and dimple deeply etched into his left cheek. “Are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”

You can’t help but play dumb. “Oh no, of course not! I would like your expertise to guide me around a museum, and if we happen to eat afterward, then I don’t know—would you call that a date?”

Namjoon licks his lips and nods, impressed by your boldness. “Are you busy Friday night?”

The cake wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. You’d have to keep perfecting it and maybe keep asking to ‘borrow’ some sugar from your neighbor.

You debated whether you should tell Jungkook about your date with Namjoon. It’s a harmless date; Jungkook would be off the hook if it goes well. Besides, it’s a silly agreement you two made up while drunk.

But, you’d sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow. There was one more day before the date anyway.

As you were sitting in bed, doing your nightly scrolling through social media. A video call comes through.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

You're on your side when you answer his call. “Hey, Kook,” you say before covering a yawn.

“Ready for bed?” he asks, shuffling underneath his duvet.

Your eyes scan the screen, and you notice his bare shoulders and collarbone on display. You never realized his tattooed sleeve reached so high on his arm, scantily kissing the top of his shoulder.

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, about to call it a night. What's up?"

"I just wanted to call and see how your day was. I was busy at work, so I didn't get to text you," he says.

Now that you think about it, the last text you received from him was this morning. And since the start of your little agreement, Jungkook has been texting and calling more than usual.

"I worked, then attempted to bake a cake."

He props the phone against something as he lies on his side, and parts of his hair still look damp from a shower. And you hate how cuddly he looks while he’s in bed and how you can see how much he works out just from the outline of his arms.

And no—you aren’t thinking about anything else. 

"How'd it turn out?"

You shook your head in disgust. "Not very good."

"Ah, I'm sure it was great."

"I'll stick to store-bought cake for now."

"Next time, we can do it together and fail."

He wants to do everything with you, huh?

You chuckle at his comment and then say what’s on your mind, "I never realized how far your tattoo sleeve went up."

He peers at his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he leans forward to show you, his bicep flexing as he moves.

"Cool guy."

He chuckles. "Hardly cool. Just bored," he says. "So, should I schedule you for your tattoo?"

Since the last conversation, you've been scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram to get some ideas.

"I think I want the birth flower for September."

Jungkook shows you his arm, pointing to his tiger lily tattoo. "This one is for the actual day of birth, but the flower for the month of September is pretty too. Have you thought about placement?"

"Mm, maybe on the back of my neck or the inside of my arm. What do you think?" You show him your arm, then the back of your neck.

"It would look great on the back of your neck. It could be a nice surprise when you have your hair up."

"Oh–I like that idea."

He props himself up on the side with a wide grin. "So, I'm booking your appointment?"

You chuckle. "Yeah, why not? We only live once, right?"

Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.

“Once you get one, you’ll want more. Trust me.”

“At least I’ll have a tattoo buddy for life,” you tease.

“Ah, see, I like the way you’re thinking. Well, I should let my wifey get to sleep,” he gives a small smile. He reaches for his phone, placing it on his chest. His other hand is behind his head as he watches you through the screen.

You hum in agreement. “Night.”

“Night.”

Daydreams are one thing, and when Jungkook lies in bed, he can't help but wonder.

Wonder how you’d look in his favorite t-shirt. Wonder which side of the bed you prefer. Wonder if you dream of him, too. Wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.

Jungkook doesn’t want to wonder anymore; he wants to make you his reality.

thursday.

The birthday festivities started early for you as you requested today and tomorrow off. There’s no way you’re spending your last few days of being 29 stuck at work.

Today’s agenda consisted of a pedicure. The toes have to look cute with your new heels, and as you’re ready to head out to your appointment, Jungkook is at your door when you open it.

You tilt your head, knitting your eyebrows together. “Did we have something planned?”

He shakes his head no and pouts. “No, I wanted to surprise you with another gift.”

He hands you a gift bag, and you take a small peek, reaching down to grab the gift. You pull out a peach-shaped heart bath bomb.

“Peach?” You raise a brow and give a smug grin. “What makes you think I like peach?”

Jungkook snorts. “Oh, pfft–I don’t know. Could it be all the candles or soap? Or how you always order any type of peach-flavored alcohol? Tea? Or–”

You suck in your lips, then give a thin smile. “Son of a peach.”

“Very cute. You’re also great at fruit puns. I’ll add that to the list of reasons why I like you,” he chuckles.

To be fair, everything in your apartment had a hint of peach–your candles, air freshener, hand soap, ChapStick, and not to mention a cupboard full of peach tea.

You chuckle. “Thanks, Kook. You didn’t have to.”

“I do if I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”

You set the bath bomb back in its bag, then on the entryway table. You close the door behind you, forcing him to step back.

“You talk a lot about making me fall in love with you, but you’ve still failed to do so. It’s almost my birthday,” you tease.

What girl wouldn’t want gifts, but you thought he’d push a bit harder.

Jungkook smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He steps closer to you–close enough for you to smell his cologne. It’s a fresh, clean scent.

He’s inches away from you. Warmth is radiating off of him. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. Your eyes are on his, then focus on his lip ring, then the freckle underneath his bottom lip. It’s the first time you’ve been close enough to notice it.

His eyes dart back and forth between yours. His tongue wets his lips, then plays with his ring. “I’m just getting started,” he says.

You close your eyes, fluttering them back open. There’s relief escaping your body once he backs away.

“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, stepping out of the way to let you lead.

“I have a pedicure appointment. Wanna come?” you ask. You wouldn’t mind having company around, and you’re curious how he’ll continue to sweep you off your feet.

You feel bad for the poor woman who has Jungkook in her seat, and you’re trying your best not to laugh as he’s squirming, clutching onto the armrests.

You clear your throat. “Is this your first pedicure?”

“What? No,” he counters, but he’s giggling non-stop, holding on for dear life.

“Sir–I need you to stop moving,” the woman warns.

You cover your mouth. Your shoulders are bouncing due to your giggles. “Kook, she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.”

“How the hell do women do this? This is torture.”

“Can’t handle a little torture?”

He perks up, shaking off the chills. The woman continues to scrub his feet with a pumice stone. He’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh and smile when she gets to the underside of his foot. Then his reflexes get the best of him, and he almost kicks her.

The woman gives him a blank expression but is professional and continues as fast as possible.

An hour later, Jungkook is coming out of the nail salon, sweating bullets from the endless torture of a pedicure.

You look at him and then his toes. “At least your toes are cute.” He let you choose the color, and you had to choose hot pink to match your birthday theme for this weekend.

He does the walk of shame in a pair of yellow flimsy flip-flops because he wasn’t prepared for a pedicure. You’ve been there, done that.

You link your arms to him when you catch up to him. “Hungry?”

Jungkook groans in delight. “You have to try this.”

He leans forward. A piece of his roasted chicken ravioli covered in pink sauce looks delectable. You open your mouth, devouring the pasta. You close your eyes, savoring it.

“See, what did I tell you?” He smiles, going back to his bowl of food. “How’s yours?”

You didn’t want to say you didn’t like it–but you hate it. “It’s good,” you smile and lie through your teeth.

You begin moving the ravioli around, pretending to make it look like you'll eat it.

Jungkook sets his fork down, pushing his bowl toward you. “Here, take mine.”

You look up at him. “What? No–I like my food,” you lie again, grabbing your bowl and clutching it closer to you.

He deadpans. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t like something. Come on, I’ll finish your food, and you can have mine.”

You let go of your bowl. “Are you sure?”

Jungkook smiles warmly, his small dimple on display as he nods. He grabs your bowl and begins to eat it.

Your heart softens, and you’re enchanted by your friend/potential future husband, so it pains you to have this conversation. You tossed and turned the night before because you couldn’t bear the thought of locking your friend into something he'll regret later on.

“So, you might not have to marry me,” you say.

Jungkook looks up at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Damn, someone beat me to it?” he jokes.

You flash a thin smile and shake your head no. “Well, I have a crush on my new neighbor.”

He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”

You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”

Jungkook nibbles on the inside of his mouth then continues to eat. “You barely know the guy, and you’re already tossing me aside?” He tuts, shaking his head.

“I’m–I’m not tossing you aside. You’re still an option, but I’m just saying if it works out with the new neighbor, then you’re off the hook. I'm sure there are better girls out there than me, Kook. You don’t want to be married to me.”

He sets his fork down, pushing his bowl forward. “Well, what can I say? You can’t see the guy?”

“So, you’re okay if I see him?”

Jungkook hesitates to answer. “Mm,” he hums with a nod.

“Are you upset with me?”

“Why would I be upset?” He shrugs. “I’m only a back-up.”

His answer gives you a sense of relief, but you also feel guilty about everything. “Should we end our little deal? That way, you don’t have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. It seems silly now that we’re both sober and not drunk making promises like this.”

He hums and nods again. “You’re right. It does seem foolish.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I'll go pay while you finish up."

You watch him get up and walk to the register. His demeanor changes as soon as you mention ending the deal. 

Is he serious about this?

Honestly, you’re stumped by Jeon Jungkook and his intentions. If he did like you, why not ask you out like an average person? Why go through the trouble of marrying you? So that you could fulfill some silly goal you had for your life?

“I’ll walk you up,” Jungkook says as he turns off the car.

“It’s fine, Kook. You don’t have to,” you counter.

On the ride back, guilt has been eating you from the inside out. You’re unsure why you feel this way–maybe because you feel like a shitty friend. Saying one thing and then doing another.

But again, marriage is a serious thing for two people to consider.

Jungkook doesn’t waver in his decision and escorts you anyway. The silence is deafening in the elevator; the two of you stand at opposite sides, stealing glances. There’s an elephant in the room, but neither of you addresses it.

When the elevator doors open, you expel the caught breath in your throat. Jungkook follows a few steps behind you.

“Are we okay?” you ask, glancing at him before lowering your head.

He stuffs his hand in his pants pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. I feel like an ass because you’ve been such a good friend–especially after my breakups. And then this past week, you’ve been sweet and cute with all the little gifts and hangouts,” you pause to look at him.

His eyes are big and innocent, and his lips form a slight pout. He’s intently listening to your words.

“I’m trying to say I’ve enjoyed being with you this week, and I’m sorry how things turned out,” you manage to spit out.

Jungkook nibbles on his lip, showing off his pretty dimple. His eyes dart to yours as he flashes a thin smile. “Well, I’ll always be your back-up if this guy doesn’t work out.”

You breathe a sigh of relief that he can still joke about this situation. You close the distance between you, reaching up and draping your arms around his neck.

It takes a moment for him to return your hug, but he does–wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. He nuzzles in the crook of your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent and softness.

Your heart’s fluttering, your stomach is somersaulting and doing back-flips. Jungkook’s warmth is all-encompassing, encapsulating every fiber of your being. Neither of you let go, allowing this embrace to go longer than usual friends do.

When you pull away, your lips are so close to his. Close enough to explore what they taste like. Close enough to see how plush they are. Close enough to find out just how much you’d have to gasp for air afterward.

You almost want to give in. You almost want to see where this could go. You almost want him to make a move.

Jungkook whispers your name, and you hum, gazing into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? About the deal? You don’t want it anymore?”

You're becoming lost in the stars and galaxies contained in those doe eyes. Jungkook doesn’t lose focus, doesn’t break character, and doesn’t give you a chance to run away.

“This stops when you say so,” he utters softly.

He’s unrelenting, you think. He wants this, doesn’t he? He wants you.

So these next few words sting. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Jungkook doesn’t even realize when he’s outside his apartment complex. He sits in his car, zoning out. He’s so close to finally getting you, but now there’s someone else?

For two years, he’s been trying to buck up the courage and finally ask you out, and when he finally gets an opportunity, someone always swoops in and steals you away.

When he proposed the agreement, it was more of a joke, that is, until you agreed, and that’s when he knew he’d try whatever it took to get you to the altar.

A knock on Jungkook’s window breaks him from deep thought. He looks up to see his roommate, Hoseok.

He gestures for Jungkook to roll his window down. “Why do you look like you're on the verge of crying? Why don’t you go up to the apartment?”

Jungkook holds onto the steering wheel and groans as his head hits it a few times, muttering, ‘Stupid.’

Hoseok knits his eyebrows in confusion as he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, opening the car door.

Jungkook drags his feet through the threshold and drops his backpack on the floor. He continues walking sluggishly, plopping on the couch, still in a daze.

Hoseok blinks at his friend. “What’s going on?”

“You know how I was trying to make ____ fall in love with me this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “There's a new guy already? I swear this girl must have some kind of bat signal that’s beaming up into the sky that attracts men the second she’s single.”

Jungkook drops his head back, then rubs his face. “What am I going to do?”

Hoseok shrugs. “Maybe tell her how serious you are about being with her.”

“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want to be with me?”

“So, you’re going to trap her in a marriage instead?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Make it make sense, my friend.”

Maybe that's what he wanted. It could be like an arranged marriage. Meet first, then fall in love.

“I know it sounds ridiculous!”

Hoseok rubs Jungkook’s shoulder. “This whole deal is ridiculous. Be honest with her, then she’ll have to choose between you and the new guy.”

He knows Hoseok is right. He should be honest and tell you how he feels.

Or he could get rid of the new guy, and the deal would be back on.

Decisions. Decisions.

friday.

Jungkook was determined to make this agreement work out in his favor. He wasn’t going to back down so easily.

He took off early from work, going straight to your favorite bakery to grab a cake. Thoughts are racing through his mind as he clutches the cake box and walks through the crowded street.

What if this was his last chance? What if this new guy was ‘the one’ for you? He couldn’t let you slip away again.

He’s even prepared a monologue. He’s mumbling it under his breath when he arrives at your door.

When the door opens, he doesn’t find you. Instead, he finds a half-naked man with broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.

Jungkook stands tall and puffs out his chest, back straight, when he sees this unknown man. His mouth is agape as he scans him from head to toe. Was this the guy you were talking about?

He clears his throat and stands his ground. “Oh, uh, who are you?”

“Hey, man. I’m Namjoon. ___’s neighbor,” he says.

“I’ll be right out!” you yell from the other room.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, and he’s trying to calm his nerves. There’s no way you were sleeping with this guy already, right? No, you can’t be, Jungkook shakes the thought from his head.

You sprint from the hallway, holding a shirt. With your clumsy ways, you spilled iced coffee on Namjoon’s shirt right before your date. You felt bad, so you offered to wash it for him.

“Namjoon, I’m so sorry! I’ve tried everything to get it out. I might have to buy you a new shirt–oh,” you gasp. “Hi, Jungkook.”

Jungkook walks in, setting the box down, and he doesn’t say anything else as he leans against the counter, watching you two.

Namjoon sucks in his lips, strolling to your side, looking at his stained shirt. “Don’t worry about it. It was time to get rid of that shirt anyway.” He gives a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna grab a new shirt, then we’ll be on our way?”

You hum. “See you soon.”

Jungkook’s eyes follow you and Namjoon as you bid him farewell. You lower your head and purse your lips when you approach Jungkook.

“Date night?” he asks, turning to you.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Just wanted to drop off a cake I picked up for you,” he points to the box on the counter.

You see the bakery's name on the box, and it’s from your favorite place. You undo the tabs and unfold the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake with various shades of baby pink and blue, then sitting prettily on top is one of your favorite Sanrio characters: Cinnamoroll.

“Kook–you didn’t just pick this up.” A cake like this was ordered well in advance.

His eyebrows rise, and he gives a half-smile. He walks beside you. “Happy early birthday,” he says as his eyes flick to yours. “See you tomorrow.”

When the door shuts, you wince.

Namjoon has a brilliant mind, and that intimidates you. He's far too intelligent and reasonable for a hopeless romantic who lives in their daydreams and wants a ring on their finger by tomorrow.

The two of you come to a crowded spot in the museum. You look back and smile at Namjoon. He puts his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind. Your stomach somersaults from the affection, but you continue leading the way through the sea of people, trying not to focus on it.

An announcement reminds museum go-ers that they’ll be closing in 15 minutes.

“Should we head out soon?” you ask with disappointment. You thoroughly enjoyed hearing Namjoon talk even though you had nothing insightful to say about the numerous art pieces.

The corners of his mouth curve up. “But we have one more exhibit to see,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He holds out his hand for yours.

You’re intrigued, so you don’t question and place your hand in his.

Everyone starts to file out toward the exit, but the two of you enter an exhibit hidden away in the back.

“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?” you ask.

He chuckles. “You’re cute,” he says before showing you his work ID and security badge.

“Oh,” you giggle. It makes sense. Namjoon did say he was an ‘art curator.’ He just never mentioned where he worked.

“Feel free to look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”

You take your time, roaming around, going from piece to piece. Namjoon stays in place, waiting until you’ve found something. You tilt your head, examining the drawing.

[ frida castelli, milan ]

It's a woman. Her back is bare, and she's curling her hands into the bedsheets. The drawing is cut off right at the small of her back, and one can assume the rest. It's erotic–as this exhibit displays various works from modern artists.

Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”

Horny, you think, but considering this is your first date. You probably shouldn’t blurt it out.

“I like the position she's in,” you say, and Namjoon chokes on nothing. You cover your mouth and can’t help but laugh.

“I like that position too,” he adds.

You try to suppress your smile because now, you’re thinking about the two of you in that position.

"Should we keep looking?"

After a late-night dinner, you’re standing outside your door, not wanting to say goodbye to Namjoon. You’d invite him in, but tomorrow’s a big day, and you have an early wake-up call.

“I hope I was able to answer your questions,” Namjoon says, leaning his shoulder against the door, facing you.

You give him a small smile, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I think you answered everything."

He hums and parts his lips. "Well, I have one question for you, if that's okay."

You nod.

"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"

You lick your lips. "It's not my birthday yet."

Namjoon steps forward, scanning your face. "You can consider it an early birthday present."

"Well, I won't say no to a birthday present."

Your heart is swooning over this tall, handsome man. He’s perfect. He's brilliant and well-spoken. Someone secure and confident, even emotionally available. You’d be a fool not to want this to go further.

Your gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his lips, unsure how to respond. You've been wondering what they taste like all night and want to kiss the freckle underneath his lip. They look so rosy and pillowy, almost like kissing a cloud.

He softly presses his lips against yours. His big hands cup your face. His nose brushes against your cheek. His lips encapture your top lip, then your bottom. He lingers briefly before pulling away, his lips ghosting over yours, and you want to return for more–you’re not done.

“Do that again,” you whisper.

His breath is warm, and he smiles before going back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands are placed on his taut chest, fingers curling and tugging on his shirt. The butterflies in your stomach are yearning for a way out. The desire in you grows deeper. You’re breathless at this point, but you don’t care if you never breathe again.

First kisses always make you go weak in the knees, and you wish you could experience them over and over.

“Your lips are stained,” you notice when you pull away. 

Namjoon chuckles; his thumb swipes at his bottom lip. “That’s okay.”

He moves in to kiss you again, but you stop him by putting your index finger to his lips. “The birthday girl should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

You render him speechless—he made the first move, but you’ll have the final say.

You bid goodbye to him, trying your best not to linger and give in to your urges. Peering through the viewfinder, you see him smiling and shaking his head before he closes the door to his place.

You’re grinning from ear to ear as your back is against the door. The date couldn’t have gone better–though you probably couldn’t write a dissertation on Modern Art in Korea, you appreciated that he took the time to explain what he loves and why he’s so passionate about it.

Maybe he could be the one.

It’s midnight when you’re under the covers and still glowing from your date with Namjoon.

You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:22 PM Hey! I found some cool birth flowers. Do you like any of these? [ 5 images attached ]

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:27 PM And my tattoo guy had a last-minute cancellation for Monday at 6 p.m. I’m gonna book you for it, okay?

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 10:05 PM I can go to hold your hand if you’d like.

KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:11 PM I hope you had a good day. See you tomorrow, birthday girl.

This differed from how you wanted to celebrate your birthday week, especially not how you envisioned your friendship with Jungkook. Did you ruin it?

And that’s when your heart aches as you reflect on this past week. Jungkook has been so sweet, and you feel like the worst friend. Could he be into you, and you’re blind to notice?

But what about Namjoon? He’s undoubtedly checked off all the boxes you could want in a partner.

Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.

saturday.

The sun is peeking through, and the birds are chirping away. You’ve slept through your alarm because you’re still in dreamland.

You’re unsure who’s in bed with you. All you hear is a groan and shuffling as they reposition themselves. You peer over your shoulder, quickly turning away when they pull themselves closer to you. Then, as an arm comes into view, draping over you, you recognize the inked skin.

It’s Jungkook.

A buzz from your phone and a bang at the door awakens you. Missed notifications of calls and texts from Jenn, your best friend, flood your screen.

You sprint to the door, unlocking and opening it for her.

“Jesus Christ—I thought you were dead,” Jenn says after she brushes past you, setting several bags on your kitchen counter.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, babe,” she blinks, giving you the once-over. “You haven’t showered, have you?”

You shake your head no.

“Well, go! It’s your birthday, but we can’t wait all day for you.” She shoos you off to the bathroom.

When you’re out of the shower, Jenn’s sitting in front of your vanity, putting on her blush.

“So, how are you doing, babe? Still not over Theodore Boner?”

“Bonner,” you correct her.

You adjust your towel, tucking it securely. “There’s been some new developments,” you say, walking to your dresser.

Jenn slowly turns around. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with him? He was a walking red flag. Well, at the end of your relationship anyway.”

You press your lips together, shaking your head. “You know that time I was upset about my break-up with Jimin?”

Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.

“Jungkook and I went out and got pretty drunk.”

She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”

You cleared your throat. “I may have agreed that if Jungkook and I were still single by 30, we’d get married.” You turned around, opening the top drawer in search of cute underwear.

Jenn’s jaw drops. “You’re not going to marry Jeon Jungkook, are you?”

You laugh it off. “No, of course not! But he’s always been there for me after my break-ups.”

“Oh, how convenient that he also happens to be single by your 30th birthday,” she says dryly.

“Jungkook’s been a good friend, and if we were to get married, and that’s a big if, then honestly, I think we’d be pretty good together,” you explain.

You're not sure if you're attempting to persuade Jenn or yourself. You’re not going to lie. You’ve toyed with the idea this whole week.

“Why don’t you just date Jungkook then?” she asks, returning to add more blush to her cheeks.

You nibble on your bottom lip. “Err–well, because there’s a new guy.”

She whips her head back around. “I go on a solo trip, and you have not one but two guys who want to be with you?”

“Technically, I told Jungkook that if things work out with me and Namjoon, he doesn’t have to marry me.”

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”

“Shut up! Your neighbor?” Jenn stands, sprinting out your bedroom door. “Which apartment? I need to see this man.”

“Jenn!” You run after her, clutching her arm, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, will you? He’ll be at the party tonight.”

Jenn turns to you. “Babe–you have Jungkook and new neighbor guy vying for your attention? Sheesh. When can I be the main character?”

You grip your towel and drag her back to your room.

“At least tell me more juicy details,” she whines.

Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror. Hot pink usually is not part of his wardrobe color, but he does it in a heartbeat if it involves you and your silly antics.

He slips the hot pink denim jacket over his white shirt and matching pink cargo trousers. He adds a neon green necklace to finish off his look.

This outfit is Ken-esque, right? He sighs, wishing you could be the Barbie to his Ken.

His roommate, Hoseok, knocks on his door, breaking his focus. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

Jungkook nibbles the inside of his cheek. This week’s been a rollercoaster of emotions for him. He was at an all-time high before you broke the news that you no longer need a back-up.

He’s gone back and forth, debating whether to fight for you or give up.

"I don't know yet," Jungkook responds. He glances at Hoseok through the mirror's reflection.

“Tell her how you feel. Be honest with her,” Hoseok says. He’s been telling Jungkook for two years now.

Jungkook turns around. “I can’t–” he pauses and huffs a breath, taking a seat on the bed.

Hoseok narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans against the door frame. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve done too much shit by breaking up her relationships. She’ll never forgive me,” Jungkook explains.

Hoseok choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Remember Jimin and Theo?”

Hoseok hums.

Jungkook clears his throat. “I may or may not have told some harmless lies that ended up in them breaking up with her.”

Hoseok huffs out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell her right off the bat that you wanted to date her.”

“I’m an idiot, that’s why, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t want me. She wants the neighbor guy.”

Hoseok sits by his friend. “It’s either now or never. You can’t keep breaking up her relationships because you’re too scared to be in a real one with her. You don’t want to start it off that way.”

Jungkook flings himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know! I’ve just never done this before. I don’t know how to act. She’s the first person I’ve had actual feelings for.”

Hoseok blinks at his friend, ready to say something, but Jungkook interrupts him. “Don’t say shit about that–many people don’t meet the right person until later in life.”

He holds his hands up in defeat. “There’s no judgment from me, my friend. Just consider my words before anyone gets hurt.”

You swipe the lip tint across your bottom lip and repeat with the top. Glancing in the mirror, you adjust your dusty rose dress and tie your matching ribbon in your hair.

The theme for tonight's party is Barbie core, and individuals are encouraged to wear any shade of pink. You’re ridiculous, but you only turn 30 once–why not go all out?

Buckets of bubbly are filled with rosé bottles and floral ice cubes. Barbie-esque props, including heart-shaped sunglasses and cut-out foam lips, are ready to be used at the photo booth. You’ve spent too much time on Pinterest planning the perfect celebration.

It’s ten to seven and still too early for people to show, so you order a Malibu Barbie cocktail at the bar. Jin, the bartender, even tops off your drink with pink sanding sugar for this special occasion and throws in a little peach schnapps.

“There’s the birthday girl.”

When you turn around, you see Jungkook in a bright pink attire. Not every day you see him dressed in anything other than black or white, so you consider this a rare treat.

He offers you a warm hug, and you both act as if nothing has changed. It’s not like you’ve seen him every day as he’s dropped off gifts for you, or he willingly watched a rom-com and definitely hadn’t cuddled.

It’s like you’ve gone back to being just friends.

As you withdraw, you give him the once-over. “You look great in hot pink. I wish I got to see your matching toes.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t think sandals would go with this outfit.”

You shake your head no.

“You look amazing,” he adds, taking your hand and making you twirl for him.

“Thanks, Kook,” you grin. Your hand lingers in his as he delicately caresses your skin. The back of your neck is warming up, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake breaking off your deal.

“Ah, there’s our Barbie girl!” Jenn exclaims as she approaches you. Immediately, you let go of Jungkook’s hand.

“Hey!” you answer, rubbing the back of your neck. “What’s up? Did you need something?”

Jenn raises her brow at you and Jungkook. “I did, but you’re busy with Ken, so I’ll ask Hoseok to help me. Enjoy your night, babe.”

You take your drink and dash off with Jenn, telling Jungkook you’ll see him later. As you stroll behind her, you loop your arm around hers.

“Are you okay?” Jenn narrows her eyes, suppressing a smile.

You clear your throat. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It looks like you and loverboy were having a moment there before I interrupted,” she says, setting down the flower vase on the dessert table.

“He’s not my loverboy. I’m gonna start seeing Namjoon, remember?”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Look–all I’m saying is you should give Jungkook a chance. Anyone could tell he’s head over heels in love with you.”

You choke on your drink. “What? How come no one’s ever told me?”

Jenn laughs. “I never put two and two together until you mentioned your little agreement with him this morning,” she pauses, cupping your face. “And my sweet, innocent Barbie girl, he shoots heart eyes whenever you’re around.” She holds your chin, turning you in Jungkook’s direction.

Jungkook is leaning on the bar, attempting to find the perfect stance to appear cool, but he has no idea what to do with himself. He peers in your direction, catching your gaze, and quickly turns away, waving down the bartender.

She continues, “You’ve been with so many knockoff Kens that you were blind to the real one. He’s a bit of a goofball, but he seems sweet, and like you mentioned today, he’s always around when you’re in need.”

What if your decision was a mistake? Would it be too late to change your mind? You were sure Jungkook had already moved on after being rejected.

You watch while Jungkook drinks something–you figure it's vodka. A shot for yourself seems enticing, simply to settle your anxieties.

Your birthday is supposed to be filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, not you being torn between two great guys.

The party is in full swing–the music’s blaring, friends laughing, chattering, drinking away. Everyone has arrived except for the one person you've been looking for: Namjoon.

You giggle when you scan the room and see Hoseok and Jungkook dancing in the corner. When your eyes catch him, he gestures for you to come dance, but you haven’t had enough alcohol to make a fool of yourself.

He sprints to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. “You need a drink before you dance, huh?”

Your lips thin, and you think, how does he know you so well? 

You nod and follow him from behind. You stare blankly as his hands are loosely intertwined with yours. He’s leading you through the crowd, letting go once you’re at the bar’s counter.

“Do you still want that pink drink thingy you had earlier?”

“Surprise me,” you say.

“Two Pink Cadillacs, please,” he says to Jin.

As Jin gets to work on your drinks, Jungkook makes small talk to kill time.

“Are you having fun?” he asks, standing before you. He sways to the song's beat, grinning from ear to ear.

You’d have more fun if you weren’t thinking about him and Namjoon all night. Considering that Namjoon hasn’t even shown up yet, you appreciate that Jungkook’s a sweet and caring friend.

“I’ll be having more fun once I have this drink,” you say over the music.

“You’re not having fun with me?” he jokes, holding out his hand for yours, and of course, you take it.

He draws you to him, makes you twirl around, and then dips you. A slight squeal escapes your lips when you come back up.

Jungkook chuckles. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“No, I’m–I’m having a good time,” you answer his previous question.

“Are you sure? It looks like something’s on your mind,” Jungkook notes. "You can always talk to me, you know."

Even after breaking off your agreement, he's still willing to be a good friend to you. How'd you get so lucky with someone like him?

"I know," you smile, draping your arms around his neck.

"Two Pink Cadillacs."

You break away from him, grabbing your drink. The two of you sip on them, watching the crowd.

"Jungkook, one. Hot sexy neighbor, zero," Jenn whispers in your ear before walking away.

You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at her. It’s been an hour, and Namjoon is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe something came up. Things happen. You get it.

"What's going on with Jenn?" he asks.

"Nothing," you reply as you move to stand before him. "You know how she is."

Jungkook takes another sip of his drink. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

Your eyes widen and flick to him. Have you been obvious about what’s on your mind?

“Yeah, of course–” you say before a hand slides on the small of your back. You turn to see the man who’s been MIA, Namjoon.

“Hey, birthday girl. I’m sorry I’m late! It was a lot harder to find a pink outfit than I thought,” Namjoon chuckles, then he sees that he may have interrupted something. “Oh–hey, man! Jungkook, right?”

Jungkook gives a small smile, and you mouth, ‘Sorry.’

“Can I steal you away for a second?” Namjoon asks, and you oblige.

Namjoon takes your hand, ready to drag you off, but you stop and return to Jungkook. “Can we talk later?”

He nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your birthday. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”

Jungkook looks on as you and Namjoon disappear. You laugh when he says something, and Jungkook can hear it–you always let out a tiny squeak, your shoulders bounce, and you cover up your mouth because you don't like how your teeth show when you laugh.

He rubs the back of his neck. He’ll have to find time to talk to you later.

Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”

Jungkook sips his drink and inhales sharply. “Her neighbor.”

“They look pretty cozy to me,” Hoseok remarks. “Go say something before it’s too late.”

It’s already too late, Jungkook thinks. He’s lost you again. What’s the point if he tried with you and you didn’t want him?

He chugs the drink and orders another round for him and Hoseok. He might as well enjoy the booze while he can–at least it would get you off his mind.

Jungkook's vision is blurred, speech slurred. Even though he sees double, his gaze is still fixed on you and Namjoon, following you wherever you go: the photo booth, the bar, the dance floor. Namjoon’s hands haven’t left you, whether holding your hand or soft touches on the small of your back.

It should be him, he thinks, but he’s been turned down before. He couldn't imagine being rejected twice.

He leans on a high-top table, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it. A few of your friends drag you off to the photo booth for the umpteenth time tonight, and Namjoon is left waiting for you.

Jungkook waits and observes Namjoon, wondering why you’d choose Namjoon over him. He thinks he could take the guy in the boxing ring. He’s too big and sluggish to move as fast as Jungkook. Indeed, he could knock Namjoon out with his right hook. But if it’s not a physical thing you’re looking for, then it’s an intellectual thing.

He shakes off the self-deprecating thoughts. Why doesn’t he go over and chat the guy up? Get to know him. It won’t hurt to find out what kind of guy he is.

There's a queue of friends waiting to take individual shots with you, and you look over to check whether Namjoon is all right. You notice Jungkook approaching and breathe a sigh of comfort, knowing he'll keep Namjoon company.

Jungkook stands up tall when he’s beside Namjoon. “Lavish party, huh?”

Namjoon turns to him and chuckles. “Yeah, she went all out for her 30th.” He cracks his neck and adjusts his bright pink blazer.

“Since you’ll be around, you should get used to it. ___ throws parties like this all the time.”

“She does?” Namjoon’s eyes widened with concern.

Jungkook pouts and nods. “You think this is bad? Last year, she rented a private island, and everyone who attended had to buy a plane ticket to her party.”

Namjoon gulps.

“Man–and now that you guys are together. I'm wishing nothing but the best for you," Jungkook shakes his head. "The last guy was going through it.”

“Last guy? What happened to the last guy?”

Jungkook glances in your direction, then back to Namjoon. “Oh, you guys haven’t had that conversation yet?”

“What conversation?”

“Let’s just say there was a restraining order involved.”

There’s a look of relief on Namjoon’s face. “Man, that guy must’ve been a psycho.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Oh no, no, no. The restraining order was against her!”

Namjoon shifts his position, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. Once, she took a bat to a neighbor’s car, thinking it was her boyfriend’s. Mind you, she was pretty drunk—and it was dark, but when she has an idea that you’re cheating on her, all hell breaks loose,” Jungkook tuts.

“Oh.”

Jungkook chuckles. “And don’t even get me started on her obsession with that one K-pop group, Seventeen. She practically has a shrine in her bedroom. Mingyu’s face is plastered on every square inch of her walls, and when they finally came on tour, she drained so much of her savings flying everywhere to see them—front row, I might add.”

Namjoon clears his throat. “I think I need a drink,” he says.

“But don’t worry, man, you’ll be fine!” Jungkook shouts as Namjoon walks away.

He lowers his head and rubs his face. He blames the alcohol for his stupidity. His string of lies is why you would never want to be with him.

Although Jungkook has spewed many lies to Namjoon, it doesn’t scare him off. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. And when he sees Namjoon jet off somewhere, Jungkook swoops in, hoping he’ll have a chance to talk to you before it’s too late.

“Hey!” Jungkook says out of breath. “Going home?”

“Yeah,” you beam a warm smile. “I’m pretty wiped.”

“I can take you home, and then maybe we can talk?”

You nod. “Mm, that sounds like a plan.”

You’ve always found it easy to talk to Jungkook. Even though he claims not to be good at chitchatting, he knows how to make you smile and laugh.

“Did you see Hoseok and Jenn trying to undress each other?” Jungkook chuckles.

“Jenn claims she thought Hoseok was a Ken doll,” you giggle. “I don’t know why they keep skirting around each other. They should date already.”

You two arrive outside your apartment. You unlock the keypad, leaving the door open. Turning back, you see Jungkook standing there. “Are you gonna come in or talk to me from out there?” you ask, shaking your head.

Jungkook walks through the door, closing it behind himself. He smooths down his pants and fixes the collar of his jacket. His gaze darts around the room as he prepares to say what’s on his mind.

“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”

Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.

With a heavy sigh, he takes a seat on the couch. He keeps shifting his weight, but nothing feels right. The sweat on his hands increases as the seconds pass by. He's never done it before, confessed his feelings.

Jungkook had rehearsed like he was up for a big audition but felt he’d stumble over his words and blurt out bleh-bleh-blahs.

You resurface a few seconds later, wearing an oversized t-shirt and what appears to be nothing underneath, but when you sit down, he catches a peek at your shorts.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, about us.”

You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Us?”

A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyebrows knitted together, wondering who it could be this late at night. When you open it, you find Namjoon.

“Hey! You left your phone at the restaurant,” he says. He acknowledges Jungkook as he steps in.

“Oh, thank you! Ah–don’t leave yet! I have something to give to you, too.” You dash to your room, leaving Jungkook and Namjoon.

There’s a moment before Jungkook breaks the silence. He turns to Namjoon. “That shirt she’s wearing is from her ex-boyfriend. She sleeps in it every night because she misses him.”

Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.

“Trust me–you should run while you can,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.

He points to the small Seventeen merch collection sitting on a shelf in your living room. “See. It’s cute and innocent until it’s not.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Namjoon says reluctantly as he turns away, trying to focus on other things until you return.

You leave your room with a bag, handing it to Namjoon. “I washed your shirt and bought you a new one too.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he reaches for the shirt, taking it out.

“I know, but I felt bad about ruining it.”

Namjoon chuckles. "I like how you're giving me a gift on your birthday."

You wave off his comment. "It's nothing. Thanks for returning my phone,” you say, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you later?”

He flashes a grin; his dimples etched deeply into those cheeks. You pull him down to kiss him on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his lips. You let it linger for a second longer, ensuring Jungkook can see it.

“Bye,” you whisper, closing the door behind him.

You stand with your back facing Jungkook. Clenching your jaw and your fists, you huff a breath. Turning around, you stare at the one person you thought was your friend.

“This is my ex-boyfriend’s shirt, and I sleep in it because I miss him?” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.

Your glare silences Jeon Jungkook, and his deer-in-the-headlights appearance implies guilt.

You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Have you been sabotaging all my relationships? Tell me the truth.”

You remember Jimin and Theo and how conveniently Jungkook had been there after each breakup.

There’s still no word from Jungkook. He’s playing with the invisible hair on his chin before he stands. “Yeah, but it’s only because—”

“Because what!” you exclaim. Never in a million years did you think you’d be yelling at a good friend. “Because you want to marry me? Why didn’t you just ask me out, Kook?”

The nickname causes his heart to ache. His eyes darted to the floor, then at you. “Because...”

You lean forward, waiting for his excuse, but he doesn’t give you one. You’re only met with silence.

“Because you’re the kind of guy who lies and manipulates to get what he wants? Didn’t really think you were that kind of person.”

“I’m not—”

“You are! If you cared about me, you wouldn’t go around spreading lies. And to think I was going to marry you? God–you must think I’m fucking stupid.”

"No, I don't think that at all—" he counters, taking a step toward you, and you take a step back.

Licking your lips, you play with your bottom lip. "I—I don't even know who you are anymore."

"I'm the same person you met two years ago," he says. Jungkook steps toward you again, reaching out for you.

"Don't touch me," you warn. "Don't you ever talk to me again," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You should go, Kook."

Jungkook walks past you. He makes his way to the door—and when it shuts, you flinch.

Approaching your 30s, you figured you’d be crying because you’re likely to have a mid-life crisis and not because one of your good friends has lied to you for the last couple of years.

Jungkook has misled you throughout the week. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.

Your heart aches from the pain. Why did this hurt more than a breakup? You trusted him, even considered marrying him and spending the rest of your life with him. How could you be so naive? Maybe it was your distorted perception of love and relationships, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.

Maybe it's your fault and no one else's.

sunday.

It’s early. Too early for Jungkook’s taste.

He’s been tossing and turning all night. Wishing he could redo the last two years. Wishing he could’ve been honest from the beginning. Wishing you didn’t hate him right now.

Picking up his phone, he grumbles after seeing the time—six in the morning. There’s no way you’re up, he thinks. And there’s no way you’ll pick up his call either.

He assumes you’ve blocked him—wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t blame you.

The expression on your face is ingrained in his memory, and the lies he told are on a continuous loop. How would he win you back—if you’d let him, that is.

It’s that point in the romantic movie where the love interest finds the courage to go for it. Jungkook has nothing else to lose at this point. It’s now or never.

With your favorite iced coffee and pastry in hand, he’s ready to beg for your forgiveness. Beg for another chance to make things right.

Three knocks strike your door. No answer.

He gives it another moment before doing it again.

And nothing.

He pulls out his phone, searching for your contact. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. At least you didn’t block him, he thinks.

Should he wait here all day? In hopes you’ll leave your apartment?

Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.

Jungkook figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He’s already lost his dignity.

Another three knocks, only this time it’s on Namjoon’s door. A few moments later, the lock unlatches, and the door opens.

Namjoon’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Hey. Have you seen or heard from ___?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t.”

The corners of Jungkook’s lips turn down, and he nods. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lowering his head. He turns on his heel, ready to leave.

“Hey, Jungkook?”

He turns back and hums.

“If you like her, be honest with her,” Namjoon says.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Did ___ tell you?”

Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head no. “I figured you were lying when you said she made everyone fly to a private island. She mentioned that she’s never flown before. So I put two and two together, and it was hard to ignore all the glares you gave me at the party.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry about all the lies I told you. None of them were true—except maybe the Mingyu thing. She does have an obsession with that guy.”

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry about coming between you two. But it’s no wonder she likes you. You have your head on straight, unlike me.”

A grin sweeps across Namjoon’s face. “It’s okay. I get it, man. I’ve been there before—not the lying, but I’ve been head over heels for someone. ___ is cool, and you seem like a good guy. Just…don’t give up on her, okay?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What about you guys?”

“Huh? Me and ___?” Jungkook hums. “We’ve been out on one date, and you’ve known her for…?

“Two years.”

“You have more history with her than I do.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”

Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’d be a fool to give up now. Trust me, you don’t want to live with the what ifs and what could have been.”

“Um, here,” Jungkook says, handing Namjoon the iced coffee and pastry bag. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”

He bids Namjoon goodbye, and as he’s driving home, he stares off into space, pondering Namjoon’s words.

What if you never want to talk to him again? What if he loses you?

He only wanted his chance with you; whenever he gathered the courage to do so, someone always came into the picture before him. He’s realized how much his lies caused more harm than good. He was cheating his way into your heart, which is unfair to you and him.

You peek out when the elevator doors open, ensuring the coast is clear. You've seen the missed calls and texts but needed more time to be ready to face Jeon Jungkook. That's why you've been hiding out at Jenn's all day. But alas, you had to go home and face your fears.

Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.

It’s not like Jungkook’s been waiting around for you, right? Though, you didn’t want to make it known that you were home.

Not even ten minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s a knock on your door. Peering through your viewfinder, you check if the coast is clear and unlock your door. You grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the apartment.

"Whoa–miss me that much?" he jokes, setting down the iced coffee and pastry bag.

"What's that?"

"Jungkook dropped it off this morning, but you weren't here. Have you been hiding?"

You lower your head. "Yes."

Namjoon licks his lips. “He’s in love with you, you know?”

You ignore the coffee and pastry bag and sit on the couch. “It’s a weird way to show that you like someone by lying and sabotage.”

“I think it’s cute,” Namjoon chuckles, sitting beside you.

Disbelief is written all over your face: eyes wide, brows lifted, jaw open, which only makes him laugh harder.

“You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d say single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.”

“Is this a weird ‘guy code?’ Am I missing something?”

He shakes his head. “I get where he’s coming from. Does it suck that he lied instead of saying what he wanted? Yeah, but maybe he didn’t know how to say it because he feared he’d say nonsense in front of you. I know the feeling–where you like someone so much, you’re afraid of looking dumb.”

You ponder Namjoon’s words, sipping on your iced coffee. “You seem chatty. Does that mean you don’t go dumb around me?” you ask dryly.

Namjoon laughs. “I get butterflies and excitement every time I walk out my door, hoping I’d bump into you.”

“But?”

“But you should figure things out with Jungkook, and then we’ll go from there.”

It’s silly—the glow-in-the-dark stars that are plastered on your ceiling. Half of them threaten to fall, and the other half are stuck on so tight it’ll take off the paint.

“You’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars before?” Jungkook asks. “Let’s get some.”

The only reason why they’re up there in the first place is because of him. Jungkook was comforting you after your breakup with Jimin.

You throw your duvet over your head, screaming into it. How could you have been so blind? So stupid? How are you supposed to face him again with your friend group? Or alone?

This past week was perfect—at least, you thought it was. But you’re second-guessing every interaction, every conversation, every laugh, every touch.

If you hadn’t met Namjoon, could you have fallen in love with Jungkook?

The more you thought about it, the more you hated that you were falling for him. Maybe Namjoon was just an excuse not to explore a relationship with Jungkook. Maybe you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, but then again, what did it matter because it’s been sabotaged by Jungkook himself?

How would you get out of this mess?

monday.

A notification ding shows up on your phone.

[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]

Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.

You go through your text messages, finding the Instagram profile of Kai, who’s supposed to tattoo you. You frown when you see a cancellation fee and that the cancellation should’ve been done two days before the appointment. Now, you have to mentally prepare yourself for getting your first tattoo.

The recommendations on your YouTube only show videos of ‘how much does getting a tattoo hurt.’ You know the pain that goes into a needle puncturing your skin. The question was, how high was your pain threshold?

When you walk into the shop, a bell chimes. It’s in pristine condition, as one would expect from a tattoo parlor. You’re greeted by a girl dressed in a black latex v-neck top. A sunray heart tattoo sits right on her chest.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”

She clicks through her computer and beams a warm smile. “For ___?” You nod. “Is Jungkook coming too?” she asks.

“Oh no. I don’t think so.” Was he planning on getting something, too? You didn’t think he’d show after everything went down.

“Kai is finishing up with a client, and he’ll come get you when he’s ready.”

You flash a small smile, taking a seat in their lounge. You’re picking at your nail beds and bouncing your leg. You’re trying to focus on anything other than what will happen soon.

A light noise of whirring fills the room. You close your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. It’s a small tattoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you think.

A part of you wishes Jungkook was here to hold your hand like he said he would. It's dumb even to want him to be here. But after spending so much time with him this past week, you admit you miss him.

"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.

You take a deep breath and follow him to his workspace.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”

“You’ll do great. I know it,” Kai smiles, sitting at his desk. He grabs his iPad. “Okay, what are we getting today?” Kai asks.

“Um, I turned 30 yesterday, so I wanted to get the birth flower for September,” you say, showing him the inspiration photos.

“Ah, Happy Birthday,” Kai grins. “Birth flowers are a great choice. Any idea where you want it and the size?”

"On the back of my neck, I don't want anything too big. Two to three inches."

"Oh–a woman who knows what she wants. There was no hesitation," Kai teases. "Cool–so, I'll sketch out a few options, and then we'll go from there. Sound good?"

You press your lips together and nod. As Kai's working on your sketch, you stroll around his workspace, looking at the illustrations hung up. There's traditional and fine line art, and you recognize a drawing of a snake—it looks like the one Jungkook has on his arm.

“See anything else you like?”

“I, um, recognize some of your work. You’ve tattooed my friend, Jungkook,” you note, turning back to look through more of Kai’s sketches.

Somehow, your nerves have finally calmed down. The whirring noise from the tattoo gun is like white noise to you, drowning everything out. You’re lost in the intricate detailing of the drawings. Tattooing is true art, you think. But instead of a traditional canvas or paper, it’s forever inked on someone’s skin.

“Okay, let me know what you think of these.” Kai shows you the iPad with a few flowers drawn out.

“You’re so quick,” you comment as you review your options. “Let’s go with this one.” You love how delicate and dainty the tattoo looks.

“If you need a break at any time, just let me know,” Kai gives a warm smile. “I apologize for the weird positioning, but I’ll need you to lay on your stomach, and your head will hang off the table.”

Your lips thin when you catch his gaze. You remove your zip-up hoodie and place it on a chair with your bag. Kai prints the design on transfer paper, putting the placement on the back of your neck. He hands you a mirror, ensuring it’s in the correct spot.

“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.

Once you’re on the table, the once-soothing noise of the tattoo gun flips a switch, and sweat builds up in the palms of your hands. The blood rushes to your head as your head is hanging off the table. You can see Kai’s feet as he steps on the foot pedal, ensuring his equipment works correctly.

You take a deep breath, trying to exhale fear and anxiety, but nothing works. The tattoo gun sounds closer, and the needle inches away from you. Your fists clench up, and you close your eyes, hoping it’ll be over quickly.

You can feel the latex glove on your back as Kai’s ready to outline the design. You can do this, you think.

With eyes still closed, fists clenched—you’re ready.

The shop's bell chimes again, but you’re too focused on this needle about to prick your skin. You can feel another presence. Their warmth is radiating on you. You figure it’s just the girl from the front, so you don’t bother to open your eyes.

Your fist unclenches, and not because of your own doing. It’s whoever is beside you. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of black motorcycle denim tucked into leather stomper boots.

“Hey—my man,” Kai stops and acknowledges. “Good to see you, Jungkook.”

“Hey,” Jungkook replies. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Nah, you’re right on time. We just started. I’m sure ___ appreciates you being here,” Kai notes, returning to tattooing you.

You didn’t want to admit it, but having Jungkook’s presence was comforting. A part of you wanted to be stubborn and pull your arm away, but considering that a needle was piercing your skin—it wasn’t a good idea.

Jungkook laces his hand with yours; his thumb lightly grazes over your skin. He leans forward, whispering, “Hi.”

You’re unsure if the shiver running through your spine is because of the needle or Jungkook.

While lying on this tattoo table, you’re at war with yourself. An angel on one shoulder tells you to stay strong and not give in because he’s holding your hand. The devil, on the other hand, is telling you you’re a simp and can’t resist when a man is fawning over you.

You hate that the devil is right, and you’re even considering Namjoon’s words, ‘You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d stay single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.’

Was it dedication or delusion?

You won’t lie. You’ve done questionable things when it came to love, too, so you couldn’t blame Jungkook. Maybe you should hear him out and see what he says for himself.

You’re silent, letting Kai do his thing. He and Jungkook chit-chat about life and future tattoos. The buzzing mechanical hum from the tattoo gun is constant and annoying—you’re growing numb to it like you’re growing numb to the pain.

But Jungkook’s touch? It makes you tingle. You’re keenly aware of how his thumb strokes against your knuckle—the constant squeezes, reassuring your anxiety when the pain shoots down your spine.

Through the years, that’s what Jungkook’s always been—he soothes your pain.

Maybe he’s responsible for your current pain - the shattered relationships and this tattoo you’re getting, but he always has a back-up plan: himself. He’s the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold—the constant, consistent one who shows up repeatedly.

He’s confusing but calming, and you’re annoyed at how much you don’t mind his touch. Your breathing slows, and your shoulders relax as you sink into the cushioned table.

“Almost done,” Kai notes.

That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.

Kai finishes cleaning the tattoo, and after you stand up from your awkward position, you’re face to face with Jungkook. Once again, Jungkook resorted back to his favorite color: black. He’s in an oversized long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and there’s a silver chain adorning his neck.

His doe eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth curve up. “The tattoo looks good on you,” he says softly. “Do you wanna see?”

Even with a mirror, the placement makes it hard to see the finished product. You grab your phone, open the camera app, and hand it over to Jungkook. You turn around, facing the mirror, holding up your hair. You catch Jungkook’s gaze and look away. His hand gently touches the nape of your neck, removing a stray hair. He snaps a few photos, handing your phone back.

“It looks beautiful on you.”

You mumble a word of thanks, grabbing your things, attempting to flee from his presence.

Pulling out your wallet to pay for your tattoo, you head to the front, but the girl stops you.

“Jungkook already paid,” she says.

The nape of your neck warms up, and your nostrils flare. You nod at the girl. Bumping into Jungkook on the way out, you stuff your wallet back into your bag, and Jungkook follows you, catching up.

“Why did you do that?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook.

"Because it's your birthday present. I couldn't let you pay for it."

You narrow your eyes, giving him the once over. “Why? So you can tell the next guy I date how we have matching tattoos and scare him off?” you retort, brushing past him.

Jungkook cards his hand through his hair. “Come on, that’s not fair,” he shouts, running after you again.

He calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you breathe a heavy sigh. “You’re right. It's not fair,” you give him a wry smile. “But doesn’t it sound like something you’d say? Mr. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.”

The third time must be the charm because he’s chasing after you again.

“Hey, can we talk, please?” he implores as his eyes scan your face.

You zig-zag around him.

He repeats by running and standing in front of you. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“Watch me,” you retort, attempting to flee again.

Jungkook holds his hand up. “Just hear me out, and if you never want to talk to me again after that, then so be it."

You huff. “Only if you drop me off at home,” you say, crossing your arms. You don’t feel like taking the subway; it’s the least he could do.

With hands in your lap, you’re waiting for Jungkook to say something, but he’s as quiet as a mouse. He’s missed two exits and been driving in circles, going past your apartment complex for the fourth time. You wouldn’t be surprised if a police car starts following you, considering how suspicious the two of you look.

You can’t take it anymore—the endless dancing around this conversation. “I thought you wanted to talk?” you ask as your eyes flick in his direction for a moment.

He straightens his posture, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road. "I'm, uh, I’m sorry for telling all those lies. It was stupid of me. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.”

You bury your face in your hands before turning to him. “If you liked me, why didn’t you tell me?”

You had come up with many scenarios in your head and thought back to your conversations and interactions with him. Jungkook had so many chances to say something, but he never did.

Jungkook shrugs and looks at you briefly before returning to the road.

“It’s easy being your friend, but to be your boyfriend? That scares me.”

You get it. Opening your heart, being vulnerable, and giving your everything to one person is terrifying. Sometimes, it feels like days, months, and years are wasted with one person when it doesn’t work out.

“Scared you’d screw it up?” you ask, turning to him.

Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.

With a sigh, you admit, “You were on your way to being a pretty good boyfriend.”

You hate that you found him so sweet and cute, even after everything that’s happened.

“I was?” he questions with widened eyes and turns off the ignition. He shifts to face you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. Your hand lingers on the door handle. “Walk me up?”

The two of you are on opposite sides of the elevator. Jungkook’s leaning on the metal bar behind himself with his legs crossed in front of him.

He hangs his head before looking up at you. "What if I had been truthful from the beginning? Do you think we would’ve been together?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “I don’t know, Kook. I guess we’ll never know.”

When the elevator arrives at your floor, it chimes, and you exit, and Jungkook follows. You stop outside your door, watching as Jungkook leans his shoulder against the wall, facing you.

You can tell when something is brewing in Jungkook’s mind. You’ve been friends long enough for you to notice some tendencies.

With an eyebrow lifted and his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek, he’s ready to lay something on you. He licks his lips, eyes flick to yours.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says.

You can feel your stomach somersaulting when he doesn’t break eye contact. Your heart rate rises as you work harder to pump more blood than usual.

There were small, fleeting moments where you could picture yourself with him: weekend mornings with breakfast in bed and late-night cuddles on the couch.

“I’m trying my hardest not to feel something,” you confess. As much as he was scared to screw it up, so were you. You’ve never dated a friend. You’ve met all your ex-boyfriends through mutual friends. You’ve built fantasies of what a perfect boyfriend and relationship should look like, and Jungkook wasn't perfect–but neither were you.

Jungkook moves closer. “So you like me too?” His eyes dart from your parted lips to your eyes.

“I don’t not like you,” you say softly, stepping forward as you play with his silver chain.

"So where does this leave us?" He’s searching your face for an answer.

As always, your heart is at war with your head. The sensible thing to do is to stay friends. The foolish thing is to see how this could pan out. What if you could get your happily ever after?

"What would you do if I was yours?" you ask.

"If you were mine?"

You hum.

"If you were mine, I'd spend every waking minute with you. Asking anything and everything that comes to mind. I want to know what makes you happy and sad. I want to know what you love and hate. I want to know everything your heart desires." Jungkook eliminates the distance. "I'd pepper you with kisses all day–on your neck, cheeks, forehead, lips–everywhere,” he says softly as his eyes never leave yours. "If you were mine, I'd never lie to you again. I'd love you with every breath and never let you go." He’s eye to eye with you, hands cupping your face. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I was an idiot for not saying anything sooner. But if this is the only time I could be with you, I'll take it."

You gulp. Jungkook’s saying all the right things, everything a girl could want. You hate it. You hate that you’re a sucker for heartfelt moments and love confessions. Neverending cartwheels occupy your stomach. The little gymnast in there is going for the gold–doing back flips and leaps; there’s no way to stop them. Your heart beats faster for him than for anyone else–even more than Namjoon.

All it took was a silly agreement and a few lies to make you realize you didn’t want a perfect boyfriend or relationship. Forget getting married by a certain age. Forget the expectations of you instilled by society. This boy was a bit messy, a bit ruined, but a beautiful disaster.

Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.

You take another second to look at him because what you want to say next will change your friendship.

“Kiss me,” you say softly, your gaze dropping to his lips.

“Are you sure you want me to kiss you?”

You nod.

If there’s one more thing to add to Jungkook’s list of fears—it’s ruining your friendship.

“I won’t be able to stop if I do,” he whispers.

Restless is how you would describe Jungkook. Restless when it came to telling your exes lies. Restless in his ability to sit still. Restless as he chews on his bottom lip–it could be how he incessantly licks his lips or just lacks hydration. You’ve never noticed before how badly he needs chapstick.

But Jungkook’s within touching distance of your lips, and all you can think about is how much he needs chapstick. Your sweet peach one, you think.

Maybe you should offer him some.

“Then don’t.”

It’s slow and gentle when he kisses you. He’s taking his time. There’s no urgency. No tongue, no hands beneath your shirt, or roaming your body. Nothing like that.

It’s like he’s been waiting so long to do this. It’s like he’s forgotten any other mouth existed but yours. You’ll forget your name or where you are when you finally break away from his lips.

He consumes every thought you have, and this is what you were afraid of–that you’ll become addicted to his kisses. You’re unsure how long you can stand before he has to carry you to bed.

His breath is warm and sweet. You love him breathing life into you and taking it away over and over. Your hands curl into his shirt, tugging him as close as possible. Tilting your head, you open your mouth to catch more air before kissing him again. Lips upon lips are discovering each other.

Jungkook pulls away, his nose nudging yours. He kisses the corner of your mouth and your cheek. He’s on his tippy toes, kissing your eyelids, then your forehead.

“Okay–don’t stop,” you say, breathless, reaching for another kiss. “It’s for scientific reasons.”

He chuckles. “Are you researching how long someone can go without breathing?”

“Mmhm.” You reach again, but he pulls back, making you pout.

“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, ‘Where does this leave us?’ he asks.

You realize he won’t kiss you until you answer him. You cock your head to the side. “I like you, but it will take a minute for me to trust you again.”

Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”

“So–we should take this slow and see where it goes.”

He sucks in his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “What about Namjoon?”

The two of you hear someone clearing their throat, and you look in their direction as they appear from the hallway. It’s Namjoon, giving you a quick wave.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says as he walks to his door. “I saw you guys when I turned the corner, but then I ducked back into the hallway, waiting for you to…finish.” Namjoon presses his lips together into a smile.

You turn to Jungkook. “I’ll be one second.”

With a sprint in your step, you head toward Namjoon. “I’m so sorry you saw that.”

Namjoon laughs. “Why are you sorry? I knew I didn’t have a chance against Jungkook. I was waiting for you to realize you wanted to be with him.”

Your eyes widened. “You knew?”

His eyebrows raise, and he nods. “Mmhm.” He leans forward. “We had fun, but look at the guy.” Namjoon glances at Jungkook. “I would’ve felt like the back-up until you two got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about me. Go–he’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks Namjoon.” A sense of relief rushes over you, and you’re thankful he understands.

Returning to Jungkook, you’re no longer looking at your back-up plan. He’s the one you want to wake up next to, the one you want to laugh with, smile with–he’s become your first choice.

He extends his hand for yours. “So, should I get my tux pressed?”

You deadpan.

“We’re practically engaged now, right?” he jokes before leaning in for a kiss.

You press your finger into his taut chest, pushing him away. “Be fucking for real, Jungkook. We’re going inside and watching my favorite rom-com–While You Were Sleeping, so you can see the consequences of how lying gets you in trouble.”

“Oh, I love that one! It's the one where she pretends to be engaged to the guy in a coma, but she falls for the brother?”

You slowly turn to him, mouth agape. “You really have seen a lot of rom-coms, haven’t you?”

“I may have learned a thing or two from them.”

“Yeah–lying!” You scold him as you enter the apartment. The two of you continue bickering back and forth.

Who knew you’d be living in a romantic film of your own?

[totaly-obsessed]

Work-Life Balance

Georgia Stanway x reader fic

-> Reader is very much overworked, Georgia tries to convince her that it doesn't need to be that way

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Georgia was not a fan of early training sessions, coming home at 2 in the afternoon just felt wrong, so it was safe to say, that she was especially happy when the session was pushed to later in the day.

It gave her the possibility to spend her morning with you, her girlfriend. And usually, the Brit was happy about that, but today was not one of them – The day started completely wrong. 

She was alone. Sure, the two of you did not live together but you usually stayed at her place, and you had been there when going to bed last night. In her kitchen she found breakfast already made, a little note attached to it ‘picked up an early shift. See you tonight! -ly!’.

This was not how Georgia wanted to start her day. 

Everybody at training noticed how off the usually bright and cheerful character was, especially Lina. “Hey, what’s up with you? Did your Wifey break up with you?” The German tried to lighten the mood, but seeing her friend's deep frown, she realized something was wrong. 

With a defeated sigh Georgia continued packing her bag while avoiding eye contact. “She picked up another early shift.” 

Lina’s head snapped over, knowing about your working history and all you did “Again?” The brunette continued to stare at her football boots, “Yeah, and after that she has to study all night.” 

To be able to study at university and be able to afford an apartment was quite the feat, especially with no help from your family, so you worked two jobs, as a cashier in the early mornings or incredibly late evenings as well as at an elementary school in the afternoon. There you helped the kids whose parents worked later with their homework and played with them. Added on top of that were Lessons in University, homework and studying.

You had been doing both jobs just fine for a while, but upon meeting Georgia at your internship at Bayern, which was already stressing you out, more things were added to your calendar. Obviously, you wanted to be with the Brit but it was hard with the life you were living. 

“I will see her tonight, if she comes to my place.” Lina's heart hurt a little seeing her friend so done with life. 

“She really needs to give up that supermarket job.” Everyone knew that you hated working there, being yelled at by rude customers before ten in the morning was a blow to the day. But in your mind, having grown up with money insecurities, you needed to make as much money as possible, and this was an easy way to do so while being in Uni. 

“Yeah, but if she quits, she can’t stay in her apartment. She is at my place all the time anyways but she will feel like a burden and she is scared of being dependent on me.” Georgia knew how your mind worked, even if she wasn’t happy with it. You moving in with her, was something she currently wished for with incredible fervor. 

“She won’t be dependent on you though, she’ll still earn money. And when she’s got her degree, she can just start at Bayern, they already have a contract up for her.” Just like that the Brit had a new Goal in mind, and this one wasn’t on a football pitch. 

Upon returning to her apartment, she almost missed your presence, if she hadn’t fallen over your shoes in the hallway. “Babe?” 

No answer. 

The apartment wasn’t big enough that you couldn’t have heard her, so where were you? The brunette didn’t have to look all that hard – a sock-clad foot could be seen peaking out from in front of the couch. “Baby?” 

She still didn’t receive an answer and she quickly saw why – your study materials were distributed on her fluffy carpet with you asleep on your stomach on top of it all, face first into a book. With a chuckle Georgia picked up your materials, sorting them just how you liked it, the only thing missing was the book that was cushioning your face.  

Even though the midfielder titled herself as “heavy-handed” she was ever so gentle with you, coaxing you out of your uncomfortable sleep, slowly but surely. 

Just a few minutes later you were sat on the couch instead of in front of it, your girlfriend feeding you biscuit after biscuit. 

“There you are, baby! Welcome back.” Your blurry eyes finally found her cute face. 

“Need to study Gee.” As softly as the Brit could, she grabbed your hands and held them in her lap, as you tried to reach for your folders and notes. “Not right now Baby. We need to talk.” 

Your tired mind went from zero to a hundred real quick. Wide eyes staring deep into Georgia’s. “Not like that baby. We need to talk about your work-life balance.” 

You couldn’t help laughing. The only thing you kept thinking about were those IKEA ‘work–life–sleep’ advertisements that were all over Germany just a couple of years ago. “I’m serious.” 

She was. The usually goofy grin on her face was gone, instead, she was quite expressionless. With a deep sigh, now knowing that she had your attention the midfielder started to explain her view. 

“I think you should quit your second job and move in with me…” With a warm hand, she shushed you before you could even make a noise. “Just hear me out, okay?” 

A small kiss was pressed to the corner of your mouth – the brunette hoping to convey, that she wasn’t mad or anything, that she just wanted the best for you. “Okay, your apartment is just a waste of money, you are here most of the time. We can put your desk and work things into my spare room, so while I work out you can keep me company while you work.” 

You did that anyway, but usually, you just dragged a chair into the nearly empty room, trying to balance your books on your legs. “And then all my stolen hoodies are back in the closet, and you can just pick whichever one you want. We can cuddle every evening, and we can cook together. And we can-“ 

Now it was you who shushed Georgia with a soft kiss on her lips. The Brit could feel your smile, making her stop her rambling. “Alright – Sold! What else?” 

The Bayern player was thankful that you listened to her. “Quit your job. You don’t need the money when you live here, and when you are done with Uni, you can work at Bayern.” 

The silence in the room was heavy. Georgia could see your brain working overtime. “Fine. I’ll quit the hob at the supermarket, but I’ll continue working with the kids! I will not live here for free, I will contribute to the rent.” 

The midfielder would never let you pay rent, but you didn’t need to know that, at least not now. “So we have a deal?” 

Back was the goofy grin as the brunette stared at your extended hand, which she grabbed just to pull you closer and press a giggly kiss on your lips – “Deal.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

liked by linamagull and 44.330 others

stanwaygeorgia: New roomie is kinda invading my personal space. Not sure if I like it...

buehlklara: 'not sure if I like it' - Sure...

-> leahwilliamsonn: I am not convinced

user01481: I need that sweater!

-> y/n: kindly lent to me by @stanwaygeorgia

linamagull: 'roomie' huh? So you did it?

user27231: Who even is that?

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Wifey

Dev Patel x Y/N - drabble - 527 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: none this is so fluffy, maybe mention of injuries in regards to Dev but nothing serious at all

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

You rushed through the doors of the hospital, instantly running to the nurse at the front desk. “Hi! How can I help -”

“Dev Patel, birthday April 23rd, 1990.” you said quickly.

The woman looked at you with an apathetic gaze, “Third floor, room 327.” she said.

You nodded at her and gave a small smile before making your way to the elevator. Once it reached the third floor you saw Dev’s manager and a few different crew members scattered in the hallway. You tried to make your way over to them but a nurse stopped you.

“Ma’am visiting hours are over, family only.” she stated, standing in your way.

You looked at Dev’s manager with a pleading look, tears starting to well up in your eyes. 

“She’s his wife.” he said, walking over to you. 

The nurse relinquished your arm as you made your way to Dev’s agent. You pushed your bag and jacket into his arms before opening and shutting the door once you were inside. Dev was asleep in the bed. You quietly walked to him, thumbing over his cheek gently as you looked over him. He had bruises all over. You frowned, eyes watering at the very notion of him being hurt.

“I’m fine baby.” you heard in a groggy voice.

Your head whipped to Dev. You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in, “Oh my god, honey…” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“It really looks worse than it is… a broken leg and a concussion aren’t that bad in the grand scheme of things.” he smiled at you. 

You scoffed, moving to hug him softly “I’m just glad you’re alright. All they told me was that you were in the hospital.” 

Dev’s eyebrows drew together, “How did you get in? Last I heard visiting hours were over…” he said.

“I may or may not have said I was your wife… Well, I didn’t. Your manager did. Either way that nurse wasn’t gonna stop me from getting to you. Fuck visiting hours.” you said with all seriousness.

Dev laughed at the last bit, holding his side with a groan. You raised an eyebrow at him, “Bruised ribs…”  he said sheepishly. 

You sighed, “Move over.” you said.

Dev scooted over in the bed, holding his arms open automatically. You crawled in, careful to avoid hitting any of his injuries. You kissed his neck a few times before resting your head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. 

“I’m glad you’re alright.” you whispered to him before pecking him on the cheek. 

Dev snuggled his head into you before kissing your nose then your lips. “I’m sorry I made you worry… wifey.” he said, you could feel him smiling against you. 

You let out a breathy laugh at the faux title, “Dork… you should get some sleep. Heal and all that shit. I love you” you said before kissing him.

Dev smiled, leaning his head against yours again, “Love you wifey.” he said, making a mental note to finally bust out that ring he bought 3 months ago as soon as he was out of the hospital.

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

Naboo's Note:

Heyyyyy one small fic before my surgery on Tuesday. I hope ya'll enjoy, I have a few in my drafts so I will get around to posting those soon hopefully. :) ILYSM XOXXOXOXOXOXXOXO

[thesupreme316]

hi i never requested before but how would aew boys react to you being in wwe and winning money in the bank and cashing in if you can can you add Christian Cage and Kenny Omega💚

AEW Stars React to: You Winning Money In the Bank and Cashing It In

Pairings: Christian Cage x Reader, Kenny Omega x Reader, Hook x Reader, Daniel Garcia x Reader, Samoa Joe x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Supreme Speaks: hi anon and thanks to requesting (welcome to the dark side). I hope everyone reading this enjoys it. Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: not proofread, GIFS AINT MINE, mentions of reader are gender neutral until specified

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @triscillal @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey @cassie0sstuff

Backstory:

You worked all year long and you proved yourself to be strong and powerful enough to compete in the Money In The Bank (men’s or women’s; whichever you prefer)

So this first 20-minutes of the match was spent with you bouncing off of ladders, using weapons to your advantage, diving off the top rope onto your opponents, and making memorable moments for the crowd

Finally, after damn near thirty minutes, you climbed the ladder for the final time and pulled down the briefcase to thunderous cheers. You smiled so hard that your mouth started to hurt as you went to the back to watch the rest of the PPV

BUT THEN

You noticed during a championship match (although it was already over), that the champion was injured. You grabbed your briefcase and a referee and ran to the ring as your theme song played (and the crowd gave the biggest pop in your career).

You cashed in the briefcase as the champion looked at you in disbelief and disgust. As soon as the bell rung, you performed your finishing move and got the victory (pinball or submission; I aint picky)

With tears of joy, you received your newly won championship. You celebrated with the crowd and your family/friends who were in attendance before going to the back where someone else made their happiness for you loud and clear…

Christian Cage

THIS MAN IS BEYOND HAPPY

What really popped him was the fact you used his chair move to your advantage

As someone who helped popularize the use of ladder matches, he was subconsciously dissecting your match

He did get scared a couple of times, but he still had faith in you

When you cashed it in, Christian damn near screamed his head off

Luchasuarus had to keep himself from laughing as Christian damn flew off the chair

Immediately called you and told you how proud he was; sent you flowers that arrived seconds after he said it

“How did-“

“I decided on a neutral message just in case of things…don’t read the other side”

I honestly think that he would reference you in promos to show how good his life is

Ricky Starks

THIS MAN CANNOT BE STOP PART 69 (wink wink)

He actually came with you backstage and sat with Cody and Brandi as he watched you own the night

He was the first person you hugged backstage, he made sure of it

Ricky was more concerned about your health than you winning the matches, so he’s just happy that you’re okay

Posts a pic dump of you getting ready, you winning, y’all hugging and shit

Can’t shut up about it while also taking credit for some moves

“That spear off the ladder was my idea…what do you mean Edge did it first?….I told you that yo-someone has an ego problemm”

After you have relaxed and rested for a couple of hours, it’s time that you guys actually celebrate

Or as Ricky likes to call it “Stroke Daddy Time”

Kenny Omega

This nice too bean will always be supportive of you

Posted not-so-subtle pictures of him in your merchandise

Was the first one to congratulate you publicly and privately

Kenny is the one to also dissect your match but just looking for inspiration for future matches

Although he couldn’t attend, he was on FaceTime as you received your title plates and photoshoot (hyping you up all the way)

“LOOK AT Y/N! YOU LOOK GREAT, YOUR TITLE LOOKS GREAT-Is that Austin Creed near you? Y/N run away”

I think after Kenny would have (unironically) the customizable pants with your face everywhere on it

I also think that Kenny would have ring gear that refers to your historical night

Calls you his lil bout machine (aww, aint y’all so cute…throws up)

Eddie Kingston

Okay listen man’s is so damn proud of you

Like Kenny, he couldn’t attend (also, despite your matches, he didn’t wanna be in attendance) but he made sure that you knew how happy he is for you

Posted a pic dump of your wins with a simple caption: “They did it mothafuckas”

Eddie will spam you with texts ranging from congratulations to lemme hold the title

I also think it would encourage Eddie to work harder in the ring so both of you can be on top of the world

If you’re a woman (or go by female pronouns), I guarantee you (motherfucking guarantee you) he will make a post or a shoot interview about how important women’s wrestling is

“Did you see what Y/N did? That was revolutionary! See what happens when you support women’s wrestling….douchebags”

He would proceed to tell everyone…including Claudio…how you’re now the only person he likes and tolerates

Hook

Baby boy is looking at you with stars and hearts in his eyes

He was just so astounded that you were able to achieve two things within one night

I have this idea that Hook sneaks backstage (aka no one really knows when or how he got backstage; or when he leaves/appears) basically he’s Batman

So like no one saw Hook come backstage but two and two together when they saw you hug

Whispers to you when you’re close enough how much he admires you

“To be honest, you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met. And tonight solidified it.”

Doesn’t post a dump but will instead post a simple behind-the-scenes pic on his story

Expect him to tell the Lads….and then prepare for the Lads to post about you

Samoa Joe

HEHEHE MY MAN

As a man who was in WWE, he understands how important this was to you and is happy that you survived

I bet he would get you a shirt that says “I survived my first money-in-the-bank match”

Joe def cackled when you did his whole “walk away” shtick when someone was trying to dive off the ladder

“I TAUGHT EM THAT! I DID THAT SHIT! It’s funnier when I do it tho.”

I think Joe would also give you a heart-to-heart about the business and how much this will impact your career

Is excited to see how your character will evolve from here

Def gives you ideas to turn heel and become a menace in the division

Daniel Garcia

SOMEONE WOULD NEED TO TASE THIS MAN-

He would not be able to shut up; you would need to duct tape his mouth shut and then take his voice box

Spam tweets and deletes the ones where people would raise eyebrows at him

Pretends to be a crazed fanboy like how he is for Blackpink (or Twice)

“OMG Y/N! KICK ME DOWN THE STAIRS! SPEAR ME-“

For your celebration, I can see Daniel taking you to a nightclub with Isiah (you will be appearing on the vlog, you have no choice)

And then another club….and then a bar…yeah bruh you getting blackout drunk (or at least hyped if you don’t drink)

Is genuinely happy for you (a lil jealous) and excited to see where you go from here

Also, he quietly asks for you to make an appearance in AEW

[xuqijie]

miyawaki sakura x f!reader

# genre ; angst, slight fluff

# tags ; idols!exes to lovers(?), oblivious sakura, reader is suffering because they both have communication issues, mentions of iz*one disbandment, reader and sakura are same age

you never knew why sakura broke up with you before your second comeback. only when the two of you meet at a music show, then you find out the full story of your relationship.

note: stream cupid by fifty fifty like actually soty.

is love real? how could someone ever find their true love in a crowd of 7 billion people? was it even possible to find your soulmate and then somehow evade all obstacles of distance? you thought love could overcome anything.

miyawaki sakura was the love of your life, still is. a disheartening program like produce 48 had somehow given you the best years of your life; a family and a lover both wrapped in a big bow called ‘iz*one.’ when sakura had said, “we’ll stay together forever, as thirteen,” on the last week of pre-disbandment, you should have known she was lying.

when sakura said those three words to you on a night of hardship, you should have known. when she uttered her love and adoration, you should have known.

you should have known she wasn’t telling the truth. because if she truly loved you so, why did she leave? a question that had plaguing your thoughts more and more recently.

immediately after iz*one had disbanded, your then company, the black label, signed you to another contract, one that gave you more freedom in the studio, but restricted personal content. you thought nothing of it at that time, because how could they have ever known you were in a 3 year relationship with one of your ex-members?

the higher-ups knew that iz*one fans were still mourning and wishing for interactions between the members, so they took advantage and instantly you had to put out a song with choi yena, 2 months after iz*one had disbanded. all while sakura was still silent. you didn’t get many updates from her either.

and when your debut did amazingly well, you knew that your management would start to milk you as a member of iz*one.

“sakura didn’t reply to my texts, or calls,” you mentioned offhandedly to yuri and yena one day. the two looked shocked but yuri eased your worries by saying, “she’s probably preparing for her graduation in japan. she did text the group chat about it.”

yena nodded in agreement, but after seeing your body tense up, she quickly changed the subject.

“is the album coming along well?” your second comeback, only a few months after your debut. the hype was slowly dying down and your management was quick to act. this time, instead of having an iz*one member be featured, the title track would be co-written by eunbi and you.

“manager’s been forcing me to do some stuff, attend some parties,” you sighed, “but i don’t wanna spend my friday night shaking hands with men double my age.” yena looked as if she was about to respond, but then your phone lit up.

y/n🐼 [2.19pm]:

kkura i miss you

what are you doing now?

wifey 🐱💛 [5.54pm]:

hi i was recording ♪( ´▽｀)

i miss you too i wna go back to korea :(

you squealed excitedly, showing yena and yuri the text messages. yuri sent you a ‘i told you so’ look while yena faked a gag.

“you two are so disgusting,” she said, while yuri smacked her arm. “you’re just salty because you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“oh yeah? who’s fault is that?”

“what.”

after that day, you had thought your relationship skipped the strain and everything would be okay. it was only until sakura returned back to korea, you received a cryptic message from your then girlfriend.

wifey 🐱💛 [3.28am]:

let’s break up.

and all you could do was stare at the bright screen that greeted you in the wake of dawn until tears fell. of course, you had tried calling her and surprisingly, she picked up, but the phone call just made you more confused.

“why are we breaking up?”

will we stay together forever?

“i don’t love you anymore.”

you’re my favourite person in the world.

“tell me, why?”

are you sure? what if you find someone better than me? or you don’t like me anymore?

“i’m sorry, i don’t have an explanation.”

i would never do that. i swear.

“i hate you, sakura.”

i love you.

“i’m sorry.”

i love you too, y/n.

a beep sounding the loss of sakura in your life. your manager had found you in your room, under the blankets in tears. only a shake of his head and a sigh before he had to escort you to the van. because of course, even after suffering the worst heartbreak of your life, being an idol came first.

your members and especially the elder ones were reasonably upset. nako had threatened to beat sakura up if she had known that your relationship would end because of a phone call at the airport. you brushed them off, trying to display your hurt of your relationship ending as anger that sakura broke up on text with you.

“i’m fine, seriously,” you choked out, tears welling up but still maintaining a smile. the other iz*one members, mainly eunbi, hyewon, yena, yuri and minju, just stared at you blankly.

“i’m actually going to fight her,” hyewon nodded her head in agreement to eunbi’s statement. “i trusted her, to take care of you. instead of talking it out, she decides to break up with you?”

“eunbi unnie, i don’t want to talk about her anymore, okay? can we play mario kart or something else instead?” you pleaded, the mere mention of sakura piercing your heart tenfold.

the members looked skeptic but your insistence made them all resign to a night of mario kart.

at first glance now, anyone would think that you had moved onto bigger and better things. a year had passed and you had just put out your third album, cupid. most of the songs were written by you at 3am, and heavily centred on one japanese. you knew that once word had gotten out about your muse, the iz*one group chat, excluding sakura, would blow up and your messages would be filled with worrisome questions.

not only that, you were currently at a music show, where lesserafim were also at, without a doubt. their debut was a smash hit in korea, fearless charting number 1 countless amounts of times and you couldn’t help but feel proud at chaewon’s improvement as a leader, yet bittersweet over seeing your ex-girlfriend.

you sighed as the makeup artist brushed your cheeks with blush.

“i hope you don’t get too choked up when you win,” she winked at you. you shook your head, chuckling, “i mean, lesserafim’s here, fearless might win.”

“i still think cupid’s better.”

“of course you do, i’m your favourite idol!” your makeup artist finished up and you were good to go. you felt your heart speed up at the thought of seeing sakura in the flesh and silently hoped that you wouldn’t have to stand too close to her.

you got back on stage and met eyes with wonyoung and yujin, both who had returned with love dive as ive and they sent you a reassuring smile.

“i think she’s here,” you said.

“oh,” yujin shrugged, “unnie, you should stand with us then, iz*one reunion? maybe even invite chaewon unnie to stand with us.”

“that’s so mean, yujinnie,” wonyoung sighed, exasperated. “well, she shouldn’t have gave such a dumb excuse to break up with our unnie—”

the mcs appeared on stage and began the show, you caught chaewon’s wave and hesitantly waved back, not before accidentally colliding with the person behind you. embarrassed, you turn around and instantly lit up.

“yuqi!” you whispered excitedly. the g-idle member grinned, “hi! look, i think you’re winning.” you turned to the big screen, truly, if the current votes add up, you would be leading. but between lesserafim and ive, anything could happen.

“and the winner is…” you held your breath, “y/n with ‘cupid’!” the ive members turned to you and you heard yuqi giggle behind you.

“good job, unnie!”

as your song played, groups started leaving the stage but g-idle remained behind since as a soloist, it was incredibly lonely standing up on stage when in iz*one, you had 12 other girls singing and dancing with you.

while minnie and shuhua started their own rendition of your song, you laughed cheerfully, but you couldn’t help but notice the lingering shadow by the stage.

miwayaki sakura, the one woman you had been avoiding the entire night, staring right at you.

it was like time froze. you remembered telling her that those kdramas were all so cliché with the love interests meeting. the same songs playing in the back as the background blurred.

but it felt true now.

‘good job,’ she mouthed. you were about to respond when yuqi pulled you back for the chorus and the grip on your wrist was noticed by sakura, who frowned and glared at your same aged friend.

after a stage of giggles and funny dance moves, you headed back to your waiting room, ready to take your makeup artist out for barbecue since she had guessed correctly on the winner. your stomach rumbled and you took out the coins you had stashed in your jacket’s pocket.

heading to the vending machine, you gasped seeing the prices. “ten thousand won for a bag of chips? that’s crazy,” you exclaimed but your hunger came first and it wasn’t as if you were broke.

as you bent down to reach for the bag, a voice startled you. “y/n.”

you whipped your head back, gaping.

“uh, hi.”

sakura’s face was blank and expressionless but through her eyes, you could tell that she was feeling extremely awkward.

“congrats, uhm, for the win.”

you nodded. “thanks. anything else? i need to go soon.”

the japanese clenched her fists and her voice came out pained, “are you dating anyone?”

you paled.

“what?”

sakura repeated, more grit in her voice, “are you dating song yuqi?”

suddenly, all anger rushed to your head. all the sleepless nights she made you experience, all the tears you let out in the shower, all the pain you had to endure. it made you frustrated.

“sakura, what’s the point of asking that?” you snapped, gripping the bag of chips tightly which was a rather comical sight.

your ex scrunched up her nose and you had to pretend it wasn’t cute. “does that mean you’re dating her?”

“no. but why does it matter?”

“because… you,” sakura groaned, “you can’t…”

eyes filled with fury, you retorted, “can’t what? can’t date other people after we broke up? am i not allowed to find other people when you were the one who broke up with me? over text?”

“y/n, i regret it,” sakura mumbled, “i regret all of it. please.”

“please what? what am i meant to do? you broke my heart, you asshole. what is this conversation meant to be about? what are you trying to do?”

your ex looked down, ashamed, but your heart broke even further at the tears spilling out of her eyes.

“i’m sorry. i thought, when we disbanded, that we would just break up because of the long distance and… i thought i was saving us from each other. i was wrong, i love you, please let me try again,” sakura explained, her voice hoarse.

you debated. was it worth it? all the heartbreak? for sakura? you had loved her for years, but were you ready to trust her again?

“i trusted you. i don’t anymore,” you started slowly, sakura’s eyes dimming at every word, “let’s start out as friends again, i think the members miss you at our reunion dinners.”

[zhongrin]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐞𝐛𝐠 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

✼ー storyline explanation / clarifications:

✼ crys and risu’s theories nailed most of the plot, so give those a read before continuing ;)

✼ ciphers translation: “beware of subjectivity” and “everyone has their own agenda”

✼ childe doesn’t like meirin romantically: reference to chilly (childe/holly)… man almost called her ‘honey’ smh he’s down bad, ‘my dearest witch’, ‘wifey’ (on that note, everyone stan chilly pls and ty)

✼ when childe said ‘i’m not your friend, that’s for sure’ + remember the matching jewelries post? the earring there is red-colored but the one he gives meirin is gold colored ��> it’s because i’d like to think despite having agreed to everything, when he saw how distraught she was getting, he felt bad. so it was more of like “we’re not friends. i don’t deserve that title.”. and the gold earring he gave her was actually his attempt at nudging her memories.

✼ as for childe’s agenda, crys’ original theory post nailed it. yup. man just wanted to pick a fight with zhongli because why not, right? a fight with a god sounds fun! :D (also i’d like to think that he’s still keeping a liiiiitle grudge from liyue archon quest, yk? lol)

✼ yes, coviello used god’s remains. ‘mother’ was referring to the mother lode. remember baizhu’s story quest? god’s remains causes memory loss and makes whoever consumes the child lode to obsessively seek out the mother lode eventually, which explains the things you were seeing from her pov - the creepy whispers/voices, paranoia, her not remembering her friends, her odd actions/movements.

✼ coviello’s posts (coviello rambles, tartarin, ??? ships, coviello’s journal) are written from their perspective, so they’re all highly biased and subjective. it’s the unreliable narrator case :D

✼ the flowers childe ‘gave’ meirin were in fact from coviello (in one of the asks, kopi offered to get them mondstadt specialties and they asked for cecilias)

✼ー fun little tidbits about coviello:

✼ they’re somewhat based on ‘coviello’ - a character from commedia dell’arte, which the fatui harbingers are also taking references from.

✼ related to the above, on their introductory post there’s a hidden link on the “ 𝐜” (no it doesn’t link you to the picrew) ; )

✼ they dislike their cryo vision, hence why you barely see them use their cryo vision throughout the story and their preference to use their pyro delusion instead (despite fully knowing it’ll cost them their life) and how they’re particularly wary of cryo wielders (e.g. queen) a shame no one brought in wrio huh

✼ the ‘names’ in their journal:

first line (red color, not bolded): danger. confident to kill when needed

second line (red color, bolded): danger. tread carefully; not confident to kill

third line (orange): suspicious. to watch carefully

fourth line (green): harmless

✼ whenever they answers an ask, they always use the person’s full url handle. yup. no exceptions. deeeefinitely none.

i doubt there are many who are actually interested in this actual 'lore' but feel free to send in asks if you have any questions. i had so much fun stringing things along hahahah <3

lastly— if you’re reading this far, congratulations! come closer, i have a secret to tell you…….

“00:00. 🔓. 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭”

[rei64bit]

Heimdall x Reader ⎯⎯  From Dusk till Dawn [Chapter 6]

Night 6  (Heimdall X  F!Reader)

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✎  Summary: Fanfic of reader married to Heimdall cause Odin wanting a grankid.

✎ Word count: 1.5k

✎  Title:  From Dusk till Dawn

✎  Chapter: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] ... more  // trying to publish as much as possible.

✎  Note: Im not a writer, its the first time I want to write something on a character I like alot.

================================================

After that night, you two are getting a little close to each other, at least that is what it seems like. Perhaps its after what you two did, to finally be one intimately, and now every night when your husband back to the bed chamber, he always find a chance to start getting touchy and get intimate, even when you sit on chair doing work, he will just stand behind you and start teasing, in anyway you can think of.. “Isn’t that your wifey duty to take care of your husband needs?” As he said, which one time you trying to reject him as you too busy doing preparation for your work next day.

Today you have been way too busy than usual working on the new mission assigned by All-father, checking on the dwarves’ progress on the new mining site, a dwarf leader named Durlin has been making a scene and on this. You still remember Durlin was the rebel lead of the Dwarves, you may not be part of the war but you did know some of the story from the Asgardians gossiping in the mead hall. Durlin has certain demand before they will start working on the new mining fields and you been trying to negotiate with them which now still with one more demand left – “to grant the dwarves the right to trade in other realms with other species. ” which you will need to get permission from All-father and All-father been away the whole day, your work come to a halt.

Since there is nothing much you can do at this point, the only thing on your mind is to go back and rest, perhaps tomorrow morning All-father will be back to discuss the dwarves matters. “haahhh--” You sighed loudly in a long breath, this is so much work you think to yourself. “Welcome back, wife” You already heard your husband voice even before you open the door.. He really has this weird habit.

“It’s quite rare to see you back so late hm, did you get lecture by the Svartalfheim’s sow hm?” Heimdall sat on the chair, reading his diary. “It was the mission in Svartalfheim, their leader demand something and now left the last one, I need All-father agreement on that.” Rubbing your eye, you said.

“Durlin huh” Heimdall responded. “How you know his name is Durlin?” You questioned. “Well, he is one of my dear old friend I knew from the battlefield, and I gave him a little special treatment” Heimdall been sarcastic again, you know what he mean little special treatment and you remember the scar on Durlin’s head, perhaps that’s his so called special treatment he gave to him. “Yes, to remind that traitor to never bite the hand that feed them.” Heimdall replied to your thought.

You want to avoid talking about war, it’s not really your favorite topic. Putting your equipment on top of another table, you try to catch your breath from the long working hours going back and forth multiple time both Asgard and Svartalfheim the whole day.

“How was your day?” It’s just one of your habits asking such questions, Heimdall found it annoying the first few times but now he just get used to it. “haa- it was fine. Next question.” Turning to the next page he said. You smiled at the way he talks, it’s funny for some reason.

But now you do have something in mind that you have been curious about the whole time since the first day of your marriage, the diary. “Why do you keep reading your diary? It’s the thing you always do when you get back. Seems like you’ve been reading the same few pages over and over.” You probably now regret asking it to cause the way he looks at you is not what you call friendly.

“Sorry..if I crossed the line...” Not wanting to meet his eye, you turn your head continue to clean yourself and change your clothes to your night wear. It is quiet the whole time after you asked that question. You really regret it now, it was dumb.

Getting the book you bought from the Svartalfheim market about wood carving, you lay on the bed to face the window and start reading it. Not sure after how long, you heard Heimdall preparing himself to sleep too. You tense up a bit when he joins you on the bed, hoping he is not mad at you, it will be hard for you to fall asleep when you know someone hate you just next to you.

You felt his hand on your waist, slowly feeling your skin and starting to move up. “hm!” You squeaked at his hand motion, it’s tickle. You grab his hand but not because you want him to stop. “It was my mother’s diary.” Heimdall finally told you what it was and quite a surprise as you don’t expect him to told you especially something belong to his mother, he never actually talk about his mother at all. The suspension after his answer, you gently squeak his hand to get him some comfort.

“That few pages were the page she wrote about me.” Heimdall snuggles his head on your neck and continues. It’s really a very rare sight to see Heimdall to be so vulnerable, even more vulnerable than the time you two get intimate. Heimdall is always a prick to everyone even to you when you both are still not married to each other yet. You still remember the Asgardians complain about the god of foresight how he purposely spills his mead on the floor so the lady not able to have her midday rest. He also a jerk to you too way before you two put in this arranged marriage, he purposely throw your notebook that you accidentally left in the mead hall as you getting too busy into the nearby pond and he told you he thought it was just some garbage and doing you a favor to clean your mess, what a prick. You still remember it took you a week to fully dry your notebook, the content is too valuable to throw away. “I see..” Cut off your own thoughts and you replied back to Heimdall, not sure what to say. You can feel his breath on your neck and his hand trying to turn your body to face him and you comply.

“…” Still silent and you decided to break it. “Do you know where she is now?” You really want to test the water to see if the dreki monster will come out and bite you. “..not sure, her last few pages doesn’t sound happy about Asgard, so she definitely not here..” Heimdall closed his eyes and spoke. That’s kinda make you sad to think that his mother left Asgard, things must be hard for him even he never say any--. “Don’t you dare feel pity for me.” That’s sound like an order to you. “I’m not pity you, I feel sad about it.”  You answered genuinely. Heimdall opens his eyes look into your eyes, you know he is searching something, a falsehood of the statement you make just now. Heimdall is very prideful, he can’t stand people feeling pity for him, this applies to his wife too. You cradle his face with your one hand, kissed on his forehead. And yes, that’s how he started to get in the mood and demanding more from you and things start to get messy..again.

After some time the wave of pleasure finally cooled down, both of you cuddle for sometime before felling asleep.

“Hey, can I ask you another question?” You want to make sure he will answer you or you can drop it if he is not happy about it. “haa--- I knew this going to happen..go on..” Heimdall sighed and put his head on top of your head, and one hand feeling your belly. “I saw the scar on your back, what happened?” You go on. “Is this your hobby to poke on people weak spot?” Heimdall looked at you and said it in a sarcastic way, this is a good sign that means he is not angry.

“..it was when Baldur still a brat, even he still is now. I was not paying attention to him as I thought he won’t be too physical and hurt me in anyway. He threw a spear at me just for fun as he thought I definitely will dodge it.” Baldur, his younger brother was very active when he was a kid and hardly see he sit at one place, he always running around the whole city causing trouble although he didn’t mean it. You put on hand on the scar to feel it. It did give Heimdall a weird but pleasurable sensation as he trembles when you move your hand across the scars. That’s cute you think.

Heimdall has been feeling your belly the whole time whenyou two talk. You looked at him and he just stared at you silently. “..?” Raising your eyebrows signal him to tell you if anything wrong, but he just imitates your face expression and continue feeling your belly but changed to use his finger drawing circle on your belly. “oh.” Realized what he means, that’s the only word came out of your mouth.

“I think it’s a boy.” He looked at you.

Cont.

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[mrs-allsunday]

“That is what who we were—not who we are.”

So yesterday, i randomly pick a children’s movie on Netflix about a freedom-loving chicken. I can’t even remember the title correctly but it has a tagline of “dawn of the nuggets.”

It’s the part 2 of the original movie where the main character, Ginger, led her chicken friends out of the farm.

The scene was something like the husband recounting those days, but Ginger said that line— they are not those chicken anymore, they’re now living their happily ever after, and they should just focus on their new life, being new parents of their chick.

It left a massive impact on me because I find myself living a contradiction lately— after giving birth to be exact.

The me before, and the me now… feels like a different person.

I mean, innately, it’s still me but I have a whole load of emotions and responsibilities running through my mind now.

Somehow it’s clouding up my brain and putting me on survival mode.

So the past two years was about finding my footing - slowly trying to find the balance of the carefree me, the mama me, the wifey me, the adulting me.

I created it this blog to remind me to heart fully embrace my thirty something era. To try and focus on whatever is on hand and stop looking back to the person I was and let it dictate the direction moving forward.

So why mrs-allsunday??

It’s inspired by one of my favourite anime characters of all time - Nico Robin.

I really like her mysteriousness, charm, intelligence and calm composure. Not to mention that she’s crazy strong too!

“Miss all sunday” was her code name under Baroque works.

So I gave it a twist since I’m a married woman now. 🤣

Unlike my chasingcarmina where i just blabber everything away, I aim to provide some kind of “value” to this blog.

To not only share my thoughts but also other POV as well. Maybe post some our family-friendly itineraries, challenges of being a working mom and how i’m getting by… something like these 😂

More importantly though, i really miss writing… so maybe this is my first step to that.

[brandonwaratah01]

♥️ France Coral Lovetá 💚

B r a n d o n W a r a t a h 0 1

“ The time passes by with new photographs placed on the walls near pre-existing ones in our home. I was never ready to write love letters when I was younger. Only an awkward kiss to show I was interested in the now newly titled, “Mum” that has recently gained that title. The one and only wifey. Here we are together as a loving family. Grandpa standing at the end of the bed taking a photograph of the newborn baby, parents, grandma and including himself in the photo too. We’ve thought of the name Lovetá because today was the exact day Coral gave a love letter speech to me many years back when we were in High school. We go way back to the stone ages where we use to ditch class to meet at the Cinemas. Those days were heaven! Our teachers and parents literally believed our made up medical certificate could justify our time for romance. Yes. We deceived them just to be together. All we had to do was summarise our friend’s homework to catch up on loss days as a student. Here we are now with our new baby daughter, Lovetá in our arms and wrapped in a warm blanket made of vibrant coloured threads of wool. Grandma on the other hand stares at Lovetá in joyful bliss with a giggle after each baby burp. Polaroid images printed instantly just like the ones photographed at our Wedding Day celebrations. We appear more older now with gray hairs appearing and wrinkly skin. It’s beautiful poetic moments like these where we cherish these occasions that are memorable via eye to eye vision and memory rather than depending on our gadgets to save memories that could be blurred. Lovetá the “love letter!”. Our new member of the family. Yes, Lovetá name has a European accent once pronounced. We gasp in amazement and group hugs here and there as a loving family with the newly greeted addition to the family. Grandpa congratulates me with a handshake and grandma gives a warm hug whilst smiling brightly to Coral. After all that exhaustion, Coral is able to smile whilst holding sleepy baby Lovetá in her arms.”

#CreativeLiterature #LoveLifeLive #LoveasNumerical

♥️ B r a n d o n v.p N g u y e n 💚

[writingforjoy]

UnVeil, Part One

When your muse decides that you need to write an au for a story that’s not even finish 🙄😂😂 @givethispromptatry @rhikasa 

“So yeah, other than Grampa Tenney keeping us hidden in England for a few years, nothing exciting has happened for us-besides this obviously! Our life has been pretty lowkey.” Ten said looking at his plate.

“Your turn RB,” Auntie KJ poured more tea in my cup, then on to Bloom’s cup “tell us your story. And leave nothing out.”

“You want to know what has happened to me up ‘til now? All my life I only knew of two things for sure. To be fair, I had turned sixteen a few months ago, so it hasn’t been a long life yet. But the first one was the only ‘mother’ I ever had, and the other is the only home I ever lived in. I’ve never been  here, to the surface-to the living- world before now. She had always told me me that the world above was full of cruel and spiteful creatures called humans, and it was those very same creatures that had casted beings like us aside. So in short, my aunt and Hell are all I’ve ever known.”

Growing up, we lived in a cottage on the hillside, where everything was always in bloom. There were few rules, with the most important rules probably being the most simple rules. The first rule was to never go past the gold wicket fence. The second was to never-ever go into the room with the red door covered in golden insignias. When I was thirteen, I broke the first important rule. It started off simple and innocent enough: 

I was sitting on the floor of my room one day playing with my pet chimera, Viper, growing bored as the hours droned on. I’ve been wanting to go exploring beyond the fence for a while.  I dropped the ball beside me and made a small cherry bomb instead for Viper to catch. As Mama was coming in, Viper missed one of the bombs and hit her in the right eye.

“Mama!” I scrambled up from the floor and rushed over to her as she doubled over and groaned, “Mama, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

She held her free hand up to stop me in my tracks and looked at me with her good eye. “Yes...yes I’m fine sweetheart. Just stay back a minute.” I stepped closer to her and she shouted, “I said stay back RB!”

“B-but Mama…” Blood was dripping from her face as she looked towards the floor, “Mama, you’re bleeding.”

“No I’m not, look,” she stood up slowly and uncovered her eye for me to see her face clearly. Her right eye had a gloss over it, but the blood was gone. “See? Mama’s alright baby,” she said pulling me into a hug, “but you know better than to use your magic in the house like that.”

“I know, I’m sorry! I was just bored a-and I didn’t mean to hurt you! I’m sorry!” I lowered my head as tears welled up in my eyes and my throat tightened. 

“Hey, RB, look at me.” She lifted my chin so that our eyes could meet and gave me a gentle smile. “I told you that I’m fine. You don’t have anything to worry about, okay? Listen, Myotis and Blossom are coming over to see you in bit.”

I dried my eyes and looked away again. “You’re about to leave, aren’t you?” I mumbled. 

Her smiled disappeared as she began biting her lower lip. “Yeah. I’m about to go run a few errands.” She mumbled. “But I’ll be back soon, okay? And when I get back I’ll bring back something special for you.” She grinned. Her right eye looked normal now, her golden eyes shining bright in the sunlight that flooded my room. “And when I get back, we’ll eat some ice cream and watch some movies, doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a lot of fun.” I answered flatly and hopped on my bed. Viper jumped into my lap and licked my face before resting his head on my knee. “I’ll just stay here and play with Viper and Blossom. It’s not like I can go anywhere else for fun.”

She sighed deeply and sat next to me. “RB, you know why I don’t want you to go outside the fence.” She frowned. “I don’t want you get-”

“-ting hurt, I know mama!” My braid started sparking as it grew shorter, so I took a deep breath to calm down. “I’ll be turning fourteen next year, and I have Viper by my side to protect me like you have Skyla. I think I can handle just one expedition outside the fence!”

“RB, I’m sorry but pet or no pet you’re not going!” She raised up off the bed and whistled for Skyla, who came quickly and stood at the door while Mama was walking out.

“But Mama, I-”

She whipped around and shouted, “Ashton Lee, I said no!” She stood in the door frame, her now red eyes glaring at me as we stared at each other for minutes. She was tapping her finger against the frame and my braid was growing shorter and shorter by the second. Then she looked away saying, “You’re not ready yet, RB.” mumbling something else as she left.

With just me and Viper in my room, I waited until I heard the front door shut before jumping out of bed with Viper and crawled under it searching for a bag to carry.

The front door slammed shut again and light footsteps ran through the house before stopping in the middle of the doorway. “Hi RB! What grand adventures should we go o-oh. RB? Where are you?” She giggled when Viper jumped on her and licked her face relentlessly. “Hey Viper! Down boy, get down!”

I crawled out from beneath the bed and saw a naked green girl with pink eyes and long, rose gold hair that hid her chest. “Hey Bloom. Here, catch this.” I tossed her the backpack and crawled over the bed.

She slipped the backpack on and asked, “Whatcha planning RB?” I ignored her question and pulled her along as I left the room. “Hey! RB!” she let out a soft gasp and touched the back of  my head. “RB, you got mad again, didn’t you?” She asked as we walked down the hallway. “You’re not planning on running away, are you?” Her grip tightened around my hand, and I looked back at her and saw a mixture of fear and sadness in her eyes. The flowerbud that grew on the left side of her head was starting to wilt. “Maybe we should just sit around and play games.”

“Don’t be stupid Bloom.” I mumbled. We made it into the kitchen and I started gathering things that we’d need for our journey. “Otherwise I’d grab two packs instead of one.” I said placing some water bottles on the counter. I glanced at her and noticed that her flowerbud was perking up and her cheeks turning red. I turned away quickly feeling my own cheeks starting to burn and grabbed the sandwich platter out the fridge.

“Good, cause I’d h-hate it if you’d-um, mmm...what are you doing anyway?” She blurted out finally.

I tossed Viper half a sandwich and looked at her again with a smile. “How about we go on a real adventure instead of an imaginary one?”

“WHAT?” Viper ran outside as she ran past me and looked out the window, where the cyclops could be seen working. “Are you serious RB? We’re not allowed to-”

“You and your dad walk here everyday, right?” I asked. “You would know your way around a lot better than I do.”

She looked back at me puzzled. “Wha-...I don’t know what you’re talking about RB.”

The smile left my lips when she looked away. “It’s a simple question, Bloom. Do you guys walk here or not.” she continued staring down at her bare feet twiddling her fingers. Her gardenia had started drooping again, a sure sign that she was feeling bad. My braid started sparking again as my patience wore thin. “C’mon and answer me, Bloom! Yes or no?”

“Yes, RB, yes! Please calm down,” she threw her arms around me, brushing my braid repeatedly to make it stop. “You know I hate it when you explode, so please stop.” she whimpered.

The scent from her flower had caught me off guard, making my mind go blank. I hadn’t noticed until I actually looked at her that she had been crying. Her small, soft body held me tight as her tears soaked through to my own skin. “Alright, alright Bloom, I’ll stop! Just stop crying, jeez!” I pushed her away in an attempt to keep her from seeing my own crimsoned cheeks. “I didn’t realize girls were so sensitive.” I plucked the backpack from her and started packing it with the sandwiches and water bottles. 

“Don’t be such a jerk, RB!” She smacked my arm with a bristled hand and stomped off towards the living room. I smiled to myself, relieved that she wasn’t crying anymore. “What are you smiling about in there?”

“Nothing. I have everything packed, are you going to be the guide this time or not?” Whenever we went on our ‘grand’ adventures, we’d always take turns being the ‘tour guide’.

“It’s actually your turn to lead, RB.” She huffed angrily.

“Yeah, but I don’t know what’s past the fence, in the woods, like you do.” I put my hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. “I’d feel better following someone who knows the surroundings better than I do.”

She bobbed her head side to side, thinking it over. “Mmm...ok fine!” she grabbed my hands and looked me in the eye. “But when we get out there, you gotta promise you won’t get mad.”

“If I do explode, you know I’ll just reform.”

“I don’t care! You don’t-...just promise me okay?”

“Okay, only if you promise you won’t cry if I do. Cause like I said, I’ll reform. Like I always do.”

“RB, that’s not fair!” She whined.

“Fiine, I promise.” She frowned and gave me her ‘I mean it’ face. “Honest Bloom, I promise!”

“Okay.” Her eyes glazed over as she looked around and smiled and when they returned to normal. “Papa’s out back. If we hurry, he won’t be able to stop us from leaving. C’mon!”

She tugged my arm excitedly as we ran out the door. Looking back towards the house, it always amazed me how small the stone cottage was on the outside, but twice as big on the inside. Queen Anne’s Lace, daffodils,and white heather lavenders adorned each side of the pathway that lead to the gate. She placed her hand on the doorknob and urged quietly, “Remember your promise RB.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, what’s the worst that could happen once we get to the trees?”

“Oi! Blossom and Ashton, where’d you two think you’re goin’?” I looked back at Myotis wiping his face with a rag he swiped from his pocket. “You kids know not to go outside the gate. Especially you, Small Lady.” He scolded looking at Bloom. “You two c’mon round back and help with the Mistress’ garden.”

“Yes Papa.” Bloom shouted.

She turned us around and trudged toward Myotis where he waited with his arms folded, his one eye watching us carefully. Viper roared excitedly, running to and fro. I made a fistful of small bombs, tossed them at Myotis. “What the-!!” I made them explode in his face, creating a smokescreen.

“Viper, stay!” I shouted at Viper, who stopped in his tracks. “C’mon, Bloom!” We ran back to the gate and burst through the door, where suddenly everything grew darker with each step we took. I slowed down and studied the gloomy area. I looked behind me and the house that I had lived in for years was suddenly gone. “Bloom...where on Earth are we?” I asked trying to stay calm.

Nothing looked the same anymore. The woods that I saw inside the fence became nothing more than a few trees growing here and there in a deserted wasteland with ghosts and other creatures flying around. Multiple stairways were all around leading to different doors. Throughout the land there were lakes and a long, endless river. In the distance I could see Mama walking towards a tall castle. She wasn’t wearing the same clothes she had left in either, but instead a puffy red and black dress.

“That’s the thing.” She said slowly. “We’re not on Earth.” She began walking slowly towards the castle, pulling me along. “This is the Underworld, RB.”

“Wha...what do you mean ‘the Underworld’? What is that Bloom?” I yanked my hand from hers. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No,” she answered bitterly “it’s the Underworld and no,” she pinched my arm and clutched my hand again “you’re not dreaming. Now c’mon before something comes and tries to get us.” She whined.

We walked side by side in silence for minutes. Then an enormous shadow came swooping over us, and landed in a nearby tree ahead of us. “Well, well, well, gaze upon at what we have here sisters.” Bloom seized my arm as they all turned to stare at us with dark eyes. “Invitees!” She cooed to the other four. They all looked like humans with wings, except their midsections were covered with feathers. She had feathers growing from her arms and had human hands, and talons for feet.

“A demon and a dryad taking a stroll down lovers lane, how sweet.” This one had wings on her back and talons for hands and feet.

“Are you are you lost little chickies?” Asked the third. “Come closer closer, we won’t bite.” She looked similar to the second one that spoke, a possible twin.

“Why are you two out in such a place young ones? Surely you know what dire consequences awaits you should you get caught.” The fourth one giggle. She looked to be the youngest of the bunch, her feathers growing out her arms like the first, but she had no talons at all.

Bloom clutched my arm tightly and shuddered as we walked closer to them. “Bloom, what are those things?”

“They’re harpies, RB. Papa told me that they’re mean, nasty birds that’ll hunt and and eat you if you’re not careful around them.” She whispered. When we got closer to the tree she said, “We’re s-sorry if we d-disturbed you, M-madame Harpies.” she stammered. “B-but we’re on our w-way to the castle.” She gasped and hid behind me as one of the harpies swooped down closer to us, landing in front of me.

“Sister, come here. This boy looks familiar.” The harpy’s twin joined her side and they both stared at me. The one on the left had feathers that faded from a sky blue to lavender.

The color of the other harpy feathers were just the same, but darker. “Why yes yes he does sister!” She said eagerly to the other harpy. “Sisters, come look look at this child!”

They surrounded us quickly, all asking “Boy, who are you?”

“Tell us your name. Please.” The blue one begged.

I watched them all as they looked at each other nervously and at me with excitement. I held Bloom tighter, taking a deep breath. “Well,” I pulled Bloom out from behind me and held her close to my side. “ first of all, this is my best friend Blossom, we call her Bloom. My name is Ashton Lee Cole, but you can call me RB.” 

Immediately they all started squawking with excitement. “It is him! The master’s son!” hands pinched my cheeks and talons raked through my hair. 

“You have grown so so much!” They tore me away from Bloom, covering me in kisses and taking turns hugging me.

“Stop it, that’s enough!” I wiggled my way out of their clutches and back to Bloom’s. “Who are you? And who are yall talking about ‘master’?”

“Young master, I am Phobos.” Said the first harpy twin. “These are my sisters. My twin Deimos, the darker one. Avery with the gold and red feathers, and Robin with the orange and yellow. She was the last to hatch.”

“Don’t you remember us?” Robin asked.

“Of course not, don’t be ignorant Robin!” Avery said rolling her eyes. “He was only a small chick-a newborn-when we met him.”

“And helped helped saved him from those nasty nasty sirens.” Deimos hissed looking in the opposite direction as if the sirens were nearby.

Phobos raised her arm in the air to silence the others. “Young master, it has been years since we last saw you and your family. You are extremely far from home, why are you here? Has something happened to Master?”

“What do you mean I’m ‘far from home’? My house is just a little further that way,” I said pointing behind me “and I’m following my mother to that castle over there.” I looked over towards the castle pointed her out. “See? She’s going through the gates now.”

“Your...mother? Her Highness?” whispered Avery.

“Our Lady? Can’t be. Sisters, explain!” Robin said looking at the older harpies.

“Impossible. Phobos tell him tell him.” Deimos demanded.

“Yes, I will tell him.” She gently placed her talons on my shoulder and squatted down to my level, her black eyes locked into mines. “Young master, your mother, our Lady, is not who she claim to be. She is of your blood, yes, but she is not-.”

“What is going on here?!” They all stopped and looked at the new creature, possibly a harpy, that had arrived. She had to be the oldest of the bunch, her feathers were all grey and ruffled, her legs like that of a hawk’s; she had no arms like the other harpies, just wings. “Who are these travelers? Move out the way so that I can see them!”

The old bird pushed them out the way with her ragged wings and approached us as if getting ready to charge. She stopped when Bloom made a short wall grow between her and us and eyed us angrily. “Elder Wendella,” She turned and watched Phobos approach her cautiously, “this is our young master and his friend.”

“‘Young master’? Like hell he is. Boy,” she said turning to me “What’s your business here?”

“We’re here to see Lady Persephone.” Bloom answered quickly as she tightened her grip around my arm. She hissed at Bloom while thorns grew on the wall that separated us and I made myself ready with a bomb.

Surprisingly, the other harpies came to our side and hissed back at the elder. She glared at us all. “What's the meaning of this?!” Robin stepped in front of us, joining her sisters against the elder. “Have you forgotten who raised you?  Who taught you how to preen your feathers and how to fly?”  She asked glaring at Phobos. “Or how to hunt and keep your talons nice and sharp?!” She bared her fangs at Robin who shivered. “And yet you dare take the side of  demon? He is NOT your master! Only King Hades and the young Prince are your true masters!”

“No, we haven't overlooked those facts Elder Wendella.”

“We know it was you who raised and taught us taught us those skills.”

“But we’re Harpies, not a Fury like you. We don't have contracts with your King and his son.”

“So our loyalty goes without question to our young master and those of his bloodline, Elder Fury Wendella.” Phobos stated boldly. “And we will NOT let you harm him or his friend!”

“Insolence!” Wendella sprang up into the air, her wings flapped furiously causing strong winds to pin us to the ground. “How dare you forsake me and our Lord! Your treachery will be dealt with by Lord Hades himself!!” With that she turned to leave after sending one last gust of wind at us.

Suddenly the tree limbs around us snapped to life as they tried to catch Wendella. Avery and Phobos leapt into the air to follow her as Deimos and Robin helped us to our feet. I glanced over at Bloom and saw her eyes glossed over, her arms imitating the tree limbs. I looked back towards the sky as someone shrieked. “Let me go you wretched dryad!” Wendella ordered. “Let me go or you'll have a worse fate than these unforgivable harpies!”

Bloom’s fist grew tighter and tighter as tree limbs engulfed Wendella, eventually squeezing the life out of her.

“Hey, Bloom, remind me to never make you mad. Like, never ever.” I mumbled to her.

“I'd never hurt you like that stupid.” She giggled.

Avery and Phobos cut the limbs down, letting Wendella’s lifeless body hit the ground. “Deimos, Robin, take them on to the castle. We will take care of Wendella.” Phobos directed them as she tore open the limbs caging Wendella and picked her up by the arms. “Make sure no one sees you, and be careful with Master RB and Miss Bloom.”

Avery picked up Wendella’s leg with her talons. “Deimos, be sure to instruct him on how to summon us as well.”

“Yes sisters, I'll teach him teach him how to do the summons.” Deimos rosed up off the ground and gently lifted me with her talons.

I looked down at Bloom as she crawled on Robin's back. “Hold on tight!”  Bloom squealed as Robin she took off into the air.

From the sky I could see everything more clearly, including the top of the hill where my home should've been. Had we walked it would’ve taken us at most fifteen, maybe 20 minutes to get from the tree to the castle, but with Deimos and Robin’s help it only took seconds. “Here we are young master master.” Deimos set me down softly, letting me get my footing first before letting me go completely.  Bloom slid from Robin’s back and stood by my side as the two harpies landed. “Now watch me closely closely, young master. If you ever need us need us for anything, you can summon us like this.”She squatted down and drew a pentagram in the dirt, followed by three separate spirals. “First, you must you must draw this wherever you like. Then, you must offer a drop a drop of blood. The blood allows us to find you find you and travel through like a portal.” She flapped her wings once and she was in the air. She and Robin swooped around me, kissing me on either side of my cheeks before flying away.

“Oh crap, Deimos! Robin! Waait, I need to ask-.”

“It’s too late RB, I don’t think they can hear you from up there.” Bloom said silently. “What’s wrong? What were you going to ask?”

I took a deep breath and said, “I was gonna ask them about their other master. I guess...I guess he’s my dad? Mama never talked about him, so I never really asked her.” I faced the gate and studied it closely.

“Well, once we get inside, you should probably ask her about all this” she said waving her arms towards the castle “too. It’s only fair, RB.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I grabbed her hand and pushed open the gate. “Guess it’s time I start getting answers, huh?” I smiled at her and held her hand tightly in my own. “Thanks for being here with me, Bloom. ...You really are my best friend.”

She blushed and nodded her head in agreement as we walked through the open gate.

Once we were inside, we stood in amazement at how huge the castle was inside. After our initial shock we started exploring the first floor. The rooms were twice the size of my home and decorated just as beautiful. As if it was more than mere royalty, but gods that lived here instead. On the second floor, there were six different doors to choose from.

“RB, you said that you can smell her scent, right? Why don’t we just follow it now, or are there too many scents around?”

“No, I’m used to all the scents now. Give me a sec, okay?” I closed my eyes and tried to find the smell of grilled apples, the scent that Mama has. “Got it! This way Bloom.” We went through the doors on the left and I felt annoyed with the place already. “Seriously? It’s like a house within a house.” I said leading us through the living room.

“I kinda like it, RB. Maybe we should get a place like this when we’re older.” She smiled mockingly and hugged my arm.

“No way,” I said hiding my face from her “this would be-umph!”

“Oh, excuse m-Ashton, Small Lady? What are you two doing here?!” A woman with tanned olive skin, green eyes, and long ebony curled hair wearing a silver crown held Skyla in her arms and stared at us with mild shock and disappointment.

Bloom’s eyes grew wide with fear and she quickly bowed before the lady, dragging me down with her.. “L-lady Persephone! We can explain! We’re just-” A crashing noise and muffled shouting from the back could be heard.

I bolted up from the floor and followed the source of the noise. “RB, stop!” Footsteps followed close behind me, but I didn’t look back to see who it was. My heart started racing faster and my mind foggier with fear as Mama’s scent grew stronger with each closer step.

“...DAMN IF HE’S YOUR ONLY LIVING RELATIVE, YOU MAKE HIM IMMOR-”

Crash

“JUST BECAUSE YOU FORCED ME...GIVE IT! GIVE ME BACK THE GUN!” I started panicking at the sound of her voice and the mention of a gun and willed my legs to go faster, searching for her in each room I passed, but one door caught me off guard. It was the same exact door back home. I stopped and stared at it as the strong smell of coffee, paprika, apples, and an earthy scent filled my nose. A moment later Mama's scent filled the area and snapped my attention back, and I followed her scent once more. Soon I found her in the room of the last door, staring at a guy pointing a gun at her. “Then shoot. Me.” She hissed coldy.

“Mama!” I ran to her as fast as I could get to the other side.

She glimpsed at me from the corner of her eye at first, then fully looked at me with fear and anger in her eyes. “RB?! Natas stop pleASE,” she walked swiftly to me at first, then ran “NATAS-TEGO!”

A bright, fiery wall appeared in front of me, stopping me from going any further. “Ma-!”

BANG

I could hear Bloom screaming at the door the same time Mama hit the floor just a few steps in front of me, and the wall disappearing just as quick as it appeared. “...Mama?” I stared at her body on the floor, slowly a pool of blood formed around her. Then the tickling of my braid creeping closer to my scalp. “YOU KILLED HER!” I shouted at the man who was now closer to me.

“It was meant for you, you worthless sonuva-hey!” I grabbed him tightly around his waist, letting my magic build up and explode.

"The next time I had woken up, she was sitting there beside me, dressed in her normal clothes. We were back home, in my room. I sat up and she cradled me in her arms, bawling her eyes out, kissing me all over my face and scolding me all at the same time. I was confused and couldn’t remember what all that had happen. The only thing I remembered for sure was her being killed in front of me. Once I told her that, she told me what I had thought was everything. Where we were, why we had to be there, who-what-she truly was. She told me that I was the same, just an ordinary demon. Of course, none of that came without a price. Bloom and I were grounded for two months that time. She wasn’t allowed to come over at all whenever Myotis came around. Even after all this, I still wasn’t allowed out of the house without supervision, and I never went back to the castle either. At least, not without her and making sure he wasn’t there, that is. Most of my memories for that day gradually came back, like how to summon Phobos and her sisters.

 Some time after all of this, once Bloom was able to visit again, she made us swear that we would never break another rule again, and we did. That only lasted until we were sixteen.

[i-lovethatforme]

List some of your favorite fics from other heavily Spideychelle focused writers? :)

WELLLLLLLLLL ofc and here you go! xxxxxxx

@awakening5: his fics here and newbie when???? i count at least 6 wips xxxxx

you look really petty - ha i shortened your title

ripple effect series - as i SHOULD

cat and spider - part two for Halloween when

@coykoii: all her fics here sure would love an update before the princess di show comes out and you jump ship again

growing together series - my BELOVED

i (don't not) love you - clown hours thinking this will ever be updated I'm so sad jillllllly

the love you gave me, darling (nothing else can save me) - jill loves a bracket to be fair

@justmattycakes: fics and comment button to ask for updates here

don't fear the reaper (w wifey credits) - not over mj's bones crushing but okay

with the click of a button - BABIES

the man from shield - my birthday is like four months away matty gotta keep up w traditions

@machiavelien: spicy fics and art here dying w lack of thirst wips xxxxx

a gilded affair - poor boy peter and rich girl mj that loves him anyway exactly

black dahlia - smutty angry girl ty update when (affectionate unless [redacted] dies then derogatory)

what spiders do in the shadows - hehehehehehehe spooky season

don't forget to kudos and comment if you enjoyed! xxxxxxxxx

[sukirichi]

reckless [01.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. explicit smut, accidental pregnancy, playboy! gojo, slight angst

✘ note. dedicated to wifey @7tsumurai​ who also made the banner and always supports me and showers me with love aaaa i love you baby <3 also this fic is mostly romance and fluff so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! thank you to @chosonore​ for pr-ing UWU. and we get like...10-15 chapters of this?!

one  ✘  two  ✘  three

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The night was young; streaks of gold flashing with the shimmering jewellery collared on your neck, the romantic humming of the violins pairing perfectly with the champagne that fizzed in your hand. It was supposed to be another day at work where you accompanied your boss to one of his events, considering the Casanova refused to bring his girlfriends in fear they might get the wrong idea he liked them outside the bed. It should be just another day at work; you’ve accompanied him hundreds of times before. Today wasn’t any different.

And yet it was.

You blamed it on the alcohol. On the slow dancing. On the fact he hadn’t stopped complimenting you all night and you’d been so stressed, the amount of planning and sleepless nights sacrificed in exchange of preparing for this event made you grab for three more flutes, the touch of your undeniable attractive boss permanent on your waist.

Satoru was equally aggravated. You’d worked him long enough to recognize even the smallest of cues, and the fact you’d spend nearly every hour of the day working with him for weeks straight in the office let you know he needed to let off some steam.

And what better way to relieve both of your tensions if not to give in to the cloud of lust?

The sultry gazes, the clashing perfumes between rose and musk, and the alcohol – the fucking alcohol – that gave way to you succumbing to your desire just this once.

There were no more thoughts – or if there were, they were muddled – as you kissed him back just as passionately, forgetting the fact his stylist spent an hour gelling his hair back to perfection as your eager fingers traced over his scalp. How you ended up in the back of limousine was beyond you, and neither was it your biggest concern when Satoru insisted you kept your heels on; his large hands caressing all the way from the ankle pressed beside his waist up to your waist.

You felt his daft fingers move the lacy thong you wore especially for tonight (not because you expected something, but the boost in confidence felt necessary) before he slides inside almost too easily.

Both your gasps and moans are swallowed in the stuffy compartment, windows fogged saved for the handprint you’d left when he hit a sensitive spot. He was moaning in your neck, skin slippery and sweaty as you slid from one another, seemingly never staying from one place as your hands treaded through his hair down to rake your nails on his back; his touch angry on your hips before his thumb found home in your clit.

As much as you hated him, hated his reputation, you couldn’t deny he really earned his title for being an absolute god in sex. You were no virgin, but you’d never felt this good, never felt this alive as bruises began to form in your skin and his lips hungrily sought out yours.

“S-Sir...”

“Satoru,” he corrected through your lips, the kiss barely even one when you were too busy moaning left and right. Satoru hitched your leg up to fold it right beside your waist, allowing him to explore deeper territories that not even you could mark.

His stare on you is perverted; openly wanton as he lets his empyrean gaze snake down to where your bodies connected. It was embarrassing to be this spread wide open for him, though it didn’t matter much, not when you clutched onto his bicep for dear life and panted breathlessly. He was kissing you everywhere – smearing your lipstick all over your lips and his, a stain of red on his hard, white collar and love bites marked deep into your collarbones and under your breasts. You tightened around him once he changed his rhythm into a more sensual one; the quick pace replaced with him pulling out slowly – inch by delicious inch until you felt empty with each growing second – before slamming back inside with fervidity that he never quite possessed behind his desk.

He groaned at your walls clenching down on him, his hips stuttering in the process. “Call me Satoru.”

“Satoru,” you moaned out, and his next sounds were pained. Pained because you sounded too gorgeous, felt too good, and with you following his hips thrust by thrust, neither of you would last any longer. Not even as you shake your head, lips swollen as you remind him, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a curled lip, sweat beading from the streaks of his white hair. “But I want you – god, you’re so beautiful tonight. Need to fuck you good—”

Gojo Satoru, one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire South East Asia and ranked as the second richest man in his early twenties, was a man of his word despite his reputation. Just as he was praised and fawned over for his beauty, charisma, and power, he was equally hated for breaking the hearts of women and treating his past ‘lovers’ like they were objects. The news were so confident of it; that he fooled them, played around with them, but behind the scenes, you knew Satoru wouldn’t do such a thing – from the first time he laid his eyes on someone, he made it extremely clear they were not to be attached. Everything with him was physical and sensual – anything beyond that would simply be out of character.

You weren’t surprised that he really did keep his word and fuck you good, because you couldn’t feel your legs the next morning and even though it had been hours, you still very much felt the shape of him carve through you.

The bastard wouldn’t stop laughing, of course, snickering under his breath every now and then each time he saw you grimace from doing simple things such as standing up and giving him the files he asked for. Perhaps it was because your dislike for him was apparent that Satoru quickly went back to fooling around, pretending you didn’t exist and only approaching you when need be. There were still moments you had to clean his mess up for him; taking his drunken phone calls at 3am because he got wasted in a bar, or doing the same for his current sex buddy who he didn’t want to stay in his home.

He was terrible, terribly awful that you despised this part of him.

You were only grateful enough that neither of you brought that night up ever again, for no matter how immensely hellish of an experience it had been, it was also something you’d really rather not be reminded of.

But now, there was no more running away from it. The truth stared at you blatantly in the form of two white lines that had appeared four times already from previous tests.

You were pregnant.

The world had never been that heavy on you. You had a rough upbringing, but it was a household filled with love and patience that it was innate in your nature to keep strong, be levelled, continue moving forward even during the times it felt like everyone and everything was going against you. You’d been through so much worse and you can do this, but you still couldn’t stop the tears that pushed from your eyes, your heart shattering the same time you dropped the stick.

“No, we won’t cry, it’s okay. I can handle this – I’m strong,” you repeated to yourself like a mantra, taking deep breaths to stabilize yourself. Clearly, this was unexpected, but you wanted to do your best, had to do your best. You didn’t have time to lose your composure, so you quickly fished your phone out your purse to dial the person you trusted the most.

“Rei...?”

Your best friend picked up on the second dial. “Sweetheart, where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for like hours now and you’re not picking up, I heard you called in sick for work and you never do that even when you’re about to pass out!” Some shuffling could be heard from the background before she spoke again, her tone a lot more gentle in response to your muted sniffles. “Is there something going on? Do you need me to drop by there right now? Tell me what you need; I’ll be there right away.”

“No, no, Rei, it’s fine, I just...”

“Sweetie,” she sighed, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see it. Rei had been there for you in everything, starting from when you newly arrived in the city; fresh-eyed and hopeful for new opportunities. She’d been there when you first complained your boss was a creepy flirt, all the way until you’d made peace with said boss and remained firm in your boundaries. But those boundaries had clearly been crossed – no, rather, you erased those boundaries. You were drunk enough to give in to the need to be touched, but sober enough to consent to everything that happened. You couldn’t place this all on him.

“I’m pregnant,” you said eventually, voice barely above a whisper as you added, “And Satoru’s the father.”

Rei stopped munching on her – you assume – bagel.

“Satoru? Gojo Satoru, your boss, bonafide casanova, the face on billboards and one of the most “eligible” bachelors in the country, billionaire Gojo Satoru?” she let out in one breath, the image of her flipping her hand out in the air in disbelief as clear as day. “Am I really hearing this right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”

You sighed.

“We were drunk. I slept with him.”

“Did that bastard force himself on you?”

“No, gosh, never,” you defended with widened eyes, sitting back down on the toilet with the lid now closed. You couldn’t look at the tests even if you dared yourself to, the plastic bag concealed in the garbage or else you’d feel sick all over again. “I-I wanted it too...we just got carried away and the night was just...I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me and why I did that, but there’s no point in fretting about it because I’m carrying his baby now.”

“Well,” she started unsurely, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m keeping it. There’s no way I would even consider abortion.”

“But what about him?”

The back of your head throbbed in pain. Just thinking about his stupidly handsome face made you want to throw up once more. “I don’t really want to tell him, but he has a right to know that he’s going to be a father.”

“Will he even take responsibility for it?”

You swallowed nervously, nibbling on your thumbnails before snatching your hand away. Composure was something you didn’t struggle with; you were the more reliable one in the duo of you and Satoru, but you had a bad habit of picking on your nails whenever you were anxious. Had it not been for Satoru flicking your nails away from your mouth each time you dazed out a little bit, you would’ve never gotten rid of the habit, but it all came crashing back down on you in an instant.

A heavy knot formed in your belly.

“Most likely not, I know how he’s like. He loves his single life so much that he’d never allow to be tied down like this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he tells me he doesn’t want it.”

“What an asshole!”

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t need him in my life,” you reinstated, finally feeling more confident the longer you talked to Rei. She was your instant hype machine in more ways than one; her presence itself gave you the reassurance you could handle everything your way. With hope blooming in your chest, you picked yourself of the toilet and wiped away your tears. You could do this – you can handle this. Not just for you, but this baby growing in you as well.

“In our life. I’m more than capable of taking care of the baby myself,” you told her, gaze hard and determined as your sunken reflection stared back at you in the mirror. Sighing, you shook your head and pictured Satoru’s face, already picturing a thousand ways this could go wrong. Only one way to find out.

“I have to go now. He needs to hear about this and then I’ll resign. Probably move back home – anywhere that’s away from him.”

“Doesn’t the baby deserve to meet their dad?”

“Their dad doesn’t even want to be one,” you muttered bitterly and threw your sweater back on, refusing to kick yourself around any harder. Now wasn’t the time to be illogical; you were now a mother and had to be responsible now more than ever. But first, you needed some well-deserved rest after endless agonizing of missing your period, along with the baby drop that until now, had shook you to your core. “I’ll call you back, Rei. I’m very tired.”

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Humming in response, you ended the call and crawled back to bed.

It wasn’t that you felt lonely, but you didn’t feel particularly belonging anywhere. You were far from home in a city that felt like the future, and each day you come home, it was mostly just a place to rest before you went back to work the next day. It was a dull, empty routine that you’d gotten used to, but never had it sunk deep into you that you did felt completely hollow.

But not anymore.

You were with your baby now, and as much as it scared you shitless to be a mother with zero preparation and knowledge, you were confident things were going to be okay.

Wrapping an arm around your belly, you had the best sleep you’d had in years.

You’d just have to worry about tomorrow. Hopefully, and you quite prayed harder than you ever did before, Satoru would let you go and keep things less complicated than it already was.

“No,” Satoru shook his head, his words dropping like a heavy boulder in the middle of nowhere. You stood in front of him shock still, hands wrung solid beneath your belly. Satoru merely shook his head, brushing back his gelled hair with a dry laugh. “No, what are you even thinking? You’re not resigning.”

You pursed your lips. “I wasn’t really asking for permission, Sir.”

Truth be told, you expected this sort of reaction from him. It may be true that you and Satoru never got along in personal levels since he was too crass and you much stiff, but it couldn’t be denied you worked well together. You balanced each other’s flaws and brought out the best in one another. If someone had asked you years ago prior to you being employed by the heir if you could even tame the renowned free spirited man, you would’ve said probably not, but after sharing struggles and quite literally forcing one another to do better, you both reached highs neither expected to achieve.

It was an experience and a whole lot lessons learned working with him.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and you had to leave even if Satoru negated to it.

“We’ve been working together for years. Do you know how many people I fired and have resigned all because they’re not equipped for the job?” he plopped down atop his desk, loosening his tie out of frustration. The simple gesture made you swallow and look away – it felt impossible to look at him any other way than a boss now that you had his baby inside you. Thankfully, Satoru was mouthy as usual that he pulled you back from your train of thoughts as he gestured between the both of you. “You and I are perfectly compatible – I can’t let you go like that. I’m sorry, but I need you. There’s no one else I can work with this functionally. No one else is as willing to tolerate my bullshit except you and...I need you to stay.”

You clenched your teeth at the desperation in his voice.

Satoru admitting he needed people was one thing. But him asking others to stay? It may have just been for your value as the only person who had put up with him in both his best and worst times that made him feel that way, but you had to keep your foot down on the ground.

You wouldn’t let him sway you like this.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and willed all your energy to spring forth. “Sir...I’m more than thankful for all the opportunities, it truly was a pleasure working with you but—”

“Is this because we slept together?” he cut you off, your shoulders tensing. Upon your silence, Satoru heaved himself away from the desk and took cautious step towards you, stopping a foot away when you stepped back defensively.

You almost wished you didn’t know him so well. His eyes shone with a flicker of hurt before he masked it just as quick as it had came – for Gojo Satoru was a master of many things, and a great actor was one of them. Cautious, you had to be cautious, and you clenched your fists behind your pencil skirt as you tore your gaze away from his pleading ones. “It is, isn’t it?” he affirmed with a clear of his throat, looking just as lost as you did. Satoru stuttered for a minute before he eventually composed himself, but even then, he didn’t sound half as sure as he wanted to be.

“Listen, whatever happened that night, we can forget about it if you want. We’re both adults and professionals – we can put this aside us and just go back to normal. You don’t have feelings for me, right? So then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Satoru...it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, aggravated. Satoru began to round his desk and pulling out little white envelopes, stacking them before you in a haste. “Do you want a pay raise? A new car so you could get to work easily? O-or perhaps a bigger house where you can work more comfortably, somewhere nearer to the office? All you have to do is tell me and I’ll give you what you want. There’s no need for you to resign, this company has given you everything and we’ve got so much offer just as you could still be great—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Satoru’s slender fingers halted around the pen hovering over a cheque slip. “What?”

“I said I’m pregnant,” you exhaled, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from quivering. A quick sweep from your face to gather sincerity trailed down to your belly, staring at you hard enough as if he had the ability to look through your soul. “And you’re the father.”

“Is that true? Is...is it really mine?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, “I’m not telling you this because I expect that you’ll be responsible for it. No offense, sir, but I’d really rather raise the baby alone. Plus, I understand that you’ll never settle down or suddenly abandon your old ways just to—”

“Stop right there,” he raised a palm, “You mean to tell me you’re resigning because you thought I wouldn’t take responsibility for it? For you?”

The hurt in his voice and expressions were evident, lip curled in disgust; not for you, but rather of himself. Satoru was the type of man that couldn’t be withered down even with the harshest of rumours; you’d never seen him be affected before by tabloids and nasty ex-girlfriends who only slept with him for money or fame, only to talk smack about him afterwards. But now, he was crumbling before you, and you didn’t know quite what to say or feel over the vulnerability present in his cerulean eyes. It almost pained you know that you caused this – for the comforting, blue sky to be tainted with a thunderstorm that hinted of anger, of disappointment, of betrayal.

But could he blame you for not thinking the best of him?

“I’ve worked with you for years, sir, I know you.”

“Clearly not well enough,” he chuckled sarcastically, “Admittedly, I’m surprised, but not upset. The only thing that I’m upset about is that you actually believed it would be better to raise the baby – our baby – alone like I don’t even have a right to be in their life. Sure, it was an accident, but we made that. That’s our child and I’m going to take care of you and be a great father, even if you don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Sir, I didn’t mean—”

“That’s the first time you said something stupid. That’s our baby. We’re a family now,” Satoru’s hesitance had vanished into thin air as he was on you the next instant, hands shaky before they landed on your shoulders. It was meant to be a comforting gesture; a reassuring one, yet you couldn’t help but flinch and falter under his gaze. As if getting the message, he quickly retracted his hands and shoved them deep inside his pockets with a sigh. “You don’t need to resign or worry about anything else. I promise I’ll give you both the life you deserve, just...just please don’t go. Now that I know we have a baby, there’s just no way I can let go of this and pretend I never heard of this at all.”

You swallowed, rubbing your sweaty palms on your skirt.

Out of all the different scenarios you stayed up late at night to turning your head in one by one, none of them included this. Undeniably, he was an asshole to most, but maybe he was right.

He hadn’t done anything wrong to you and he was still the father of your baby; he deserved a chance. Satoru had the right to be the father he was willing to be. You could already tell this might completely turn into one big mess, but his eyes were so hopeful, his smile so nervous yet expectant that you couldn’t help but say –

“Okay,” you relented.

His reaction was instantaneous. Satoru beamed and lounged at you, arms wide open for an embrace before realizing at the last second you could stab him with a pen and not regret it. One warning glare sent his way and he was retracing his arm behind his head, pretending to stretch with an off-tune whistle.

The sudden switch between pained and enthusiastic gave you whiplash, but you really shouldn’t be surprised. This was Gojo Satoru in the first place – he was as unpredictable as nothing was permanent and lasting to him.

It could be both a blessing and a curse.

For the sake of your baby, you genuinely hoped it was the former.

Not wanting him to get too ahead of himself since you still didn’t trust him enough, you raised a finger to poke him in the chest. Right now, you were no longer his secretary that openly despised him but added six sugar cubes in his coffee just as he liked anyway, but rather a woman who shared this mess with him, and as the mother of his child. You had to be strong. Being with Satoru felt like playing with fire, and you had far too much at stake – both of you did – but you weren’t privileged and fortunate like Satoru. One bad thing thrown his way could be brushed off, but for you? Everything you worked hard for could disappear just like that.

If you really chose now to play with fire, you had to be careful not to be the gasoline that ignited things to burn down into ashes.

“Satoru,” you stressed with your lips pressed into a thin line, “The only thing I expect from you is to be is a good father to our child. I know that it would be difficult for you to be a new person in a day and that your old habits won’t die right away, so please do what you can to be a good parent, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your life as well.”

His smile slowly vanished.

“Is that how low you really think of me?” he echoed rather sadly, “That I would still sleep around knowing I’ve got a family now?”

“We’re not a family, Sir. I have no intentions of marrying you nor would I ever want it. I’m just staying for the baby.”

“Fine. For the baby, let’s both do our best,” he crossed his arms on his chest, pumping out the hard muscles from how tight his shirt was. You were stuck between wanting to slap him or be closer to him; the hormones too much of a mess that you had to grip your thigh for restraint. “But tomorrow, you’re moving in with me. I’m going to take care of you from now on – I’ll get you whatever you need so whatever it is, just tell me. My credit card is yours to use as well.”

Move in with him? You wanted to laugh. That was the last thing you would want to happen.

“Sir, it’s fine, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but I want to take care of you both,” he reiterated, growing slightly annoyed from your rigidness. You professed that you were being difficult right now, but it was much better than being easy around someone like him.

“We don’t have to be friends or lovers, alright? I know you don’t see me that way and I’m probably repulsive in your eyes – which is understandable since you always clean my mess up for me – but as a father, at least, let me do my job. There doesn’t have to be anything between us other than a mutual want to be good parents. Is that alright with you?”

You mulled the thought over in your head. So he was capable of being sensible sometimes, and after a few moments of silence, you narrowed your eyes at him.

Still suspicious and your guard was most definitely still up, but he was right. You both had a mutual want to be good parents and that was the most important thing right now. Everything else that complicated matters would be handled afterwards.

“I’m okay with that, but I would have to set down lots of boundaries if I’m living with you.”

“So you’ll really stay with me then?” You regretted nodding in response because Satoru was now fishing his phone out, a goofy smile on his face.

He took the news...surprisingly well, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Perfect! I’ll have your room prepared!” You tried to grab his arm to stop him from going overboard; knowing full well Satoru always had rushes in which he impulsively overdoes things. He might turn your room into some sort of grand suite that you wouldn’t really like, but he was far too excited and lost in his own thoughts that your words went from one ear and out the other. “Fuck,” he laughed to himself, “I’m going to be a dad.”

Whether it was relief or anxiety that bubbled through you, you had no idea.

It was definitely anxiety.

Satoru felt like a hyper child to be around, and as much as you were grateful that he was happy about this, you also wished he would calm down. You didn’t even have enough chance to settle in before he’s shoving you inside room by room, announcing that what was his was also yours and he would have a baby room set up next week.

You followed him around like a puppy as he marched into the kitchen, mumbling incoherently to himself about baby proofing furniture.

“Sir,” you called out, “Sir, listen to me. We need to talk about boundaries.”

Satoru blinked owlishly at your tired eyes, sheepishly smiling at you. It must’ve dawned on him that his speed tour of his penthouse felt a lot more overwhelming than welcoming, and he sat you down on the island stools before drumming his fingers impatiently on the cool marble. “Sorry, you were saying? I kind of got carried away.”

Carried away was far an understatement.

“I said, we need to talk about boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” he paused with a furrow in his brow. “Also can you just call me Satoru? We’re going to be parents anyway and it’s awkward if you keep uh, calling me Sir.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, not really in the mood to argue with him right now. You had to keep intact with him while you still had his full attention. Taking out a little notepad you prepared the night before, you slid it over Satoru who tilted his head to the side rather cutely to read it. “So here are my boundaries. One, I don’t want this pregnancy to be announced in the media unless I’m ready. I understand that we can’t keep this a secret forever but I need time to process this. Two, just because we’re living in the same roof together doesn’t mean that I get to go anywhere and everywhere with you. I’m going to work by myself—”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I said no,” he repeated more firmly this time. “You’re pregnant and I want to make sure you’re safe at all times. I’m driving you to work.”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said? I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“You’re my secretary. People see us together all the time.”

“But you never drove me to work! I live far from the office and I most definitely don’t drive an Audi.”

“Things change, that’s your life now,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, stealing the pen you twirled in your hands. The sudden contact sent jolts of electricity from your knuckles, one that had you recanting your hands back to yourself. Satoru didn’t seem to notice as he crosses out the second rule, “Sorry not sorry but I don’t want to let you go places like that. Fine by me if you don’t want me to drive you, but at least have one of the chauffeurs take you somewhere if you really don’t wanna be seen with me.”

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth. Compromise, compromise, meet in the middle – you repeated to yourself to keep your sanity. “Rule number three: I don’t want you changing your attitude around me. We may have a baby on the way, but you’re still my boss and I want to keep our relationship professional.”

“You’re saying I’m not allowed to fall in love with you?”

You flicked his forehead, effectively erasing the teasing grin he wore. “That’s not going to happen,” you interjected irritably, although your heart skip a beat. That was a massive red flag already; you could never be too comfortable with him. For Satoru, his little comments here and there may come naturally and probably meant nothing to him, but there was a chance you could receive it with different interpretations. Shaking your head at him, you ignored his grumblings on how ‘mean’ you were. “We’re never going to be a couple. We’re just raising a child together. I don’t want you acting weird or too comfortable with me.”

Satoru scratched the side of his head as he mulled about it, “Are we allowed to be friends, at least? I understand the professional part, but I can’t imagine the both of us getting along for nine months and more when we act like boss and employee even alone at home,” before you could say anything, Satoru raised his hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t do anything weird to you. No offense, but you’re not really my type, so same as you, I view you platonically.”

Right. The heart surely was stupid and confusing.

You didn’t want him getting any ideas that this could lead to something more, but at the same time, it hurt a little to know you weren’t his type.

Hiding that pang of hurt behind a tight lipped smile, you forced yourself to agree with him. “I view you professionally, Sir.”

“Satoru.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. “Rule number four: don’t bring home any of your fuck buddies or flavour of the night. I really don’t care if you sleep around, but respect my privacy and my standing as the mother of your childIf you’re really desperate to get your dick wet, go fuck them somewhere else.”

“You’ve never been this vulgar with me.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Despite countless of times that he tried being friendly with you to ease your stiffness in the office, you always shot him down.

You came to the city to work and provide for your family, not to be friends with your annoyingly hot boss who enjoyed his life way too much. Unlike him, you were more work than play, and eventually Satoru respected the fact you would never speak or treat him casually.

Until now.

“Try being in my shoes and see if you’d still have the patience of a saint,” you mumbled under your breath, sighing when Satoru’s smile got more awkward. “Listen, Satoru, I don’t mean to be difficult, okay? It’s just...this is a lot. This isn’t just us about anymore – we’re going to be parents and that’s a huge responsibility. It’s not only our lives changing here, a child will be relying on us in the future and I simply want to be a good mother, but I also don’t trust you very well to be comfortable enough to act like we’re suddenly friends.”

“I understand that.”

“Good.”

“Do you have rule number five?”

“No, not really, but I can add more as we go.”

“I have a rule number five,” he piped in, flipping the notepad his way as he scribbled something down. “And it’s that if you need help – and I mean with anything – you would let me help you. I’ve worked with you for a long time and I’m not dumb enough to not notice you like to do things by yourself. Like you said, things are different now, and especially with this pregnancy, you’re not alone in this. You need to let me take over the wheel sometimes. I can’t be just a passenger in the car – you and I are both in this together.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“That’s easy,” he chirped, and there was that uncomfortable knot in your chest again. However, it didn’t sink in too deep because Satoru was blatantly staring at your belly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So do we have a name for them already?”

“Satoru, I’ve only been a few weeks pregnant, I don’t—”

Conflicting his previous statement that he’d keep his hands to himself, Satoru suddenly dropped to his knees. You watched with wide eyes, too flabbergasted to move as he places his ear on your belly.

“Hi there, little one,” he spoke in a soft tone, large hands caressing the tiny bump beginning to form. You couldn’t move; hell, you could barely breathe from how comforting his touch seemed in contrast to your mind ringing warning bells above. His voice quickly pulled you back to reality as he flattened his palm, white lashes fluttering against the cotton of your shirt. “I’m your daddy; I can’t wait to meet you. Daddy promises to take good care of you and make you the happiest kid ever, alright? You don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m here.”

“D-don’t spoil them too much, Satoru.”

“I’ll try not to,” he chuckled. Satisfied with that small moment he had, he straightened up and trudged over the dining table that was far too big for a man who lived alone. In that moment, an image flashed in your mind – that someday that table would no longer look empty as you and your child shared meals with him. You could already imagine how heavenly the sun would shine on the glass windows behind it, the flowers gathered in the middle of the table blooming to life.

Out of nowhere, it struck you.

Could it be that this was why he loved this baby so much after only knowing about it for a few days? Could it be that Satoru really was alone?

“Okay, we should probably have a welcoming dinner! The chefs left me something tonight. I forgot what it’s called but I think you’ll like it. Grab some wine on the cellar for me?”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, right! My bad,” he clapped his hands together before pulling out ceramics and a cold pitcher, “Just water for mommy then,” Satoru said absentmindedly, completely oblivious to how your mind short-circuited a few feet away from him. He went about his way ignorant to it all and gently tugged you to sit with him, eagerly digging into the heated meals as you realized both of you hadn’t eaten.

For a guy who talked a lot, dinner with him was surprisingly quiet. Other than the occasional clinking of utensils against the plate, you enjoyed the silence with him.

You wouldn’t have believed it to be possible since Satoru made it his daily business to always fill in the gaps. Peace and comfort stretched before you the whole time, however, that for a moment, just a short moment, you found yourself letting your guard down. Even when you both caught each other’s in the middle of a bite, you found no tension or awkwardness in it. Perhaps it was the familiarity of being beside each other for years now that this should feel natural, or maybe it was because you both mutually agreed on wanting the best for your baby. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to overcomplicate it right now.

“You know, I’m really excited about this. I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a father,” he mused through a bite, swirling his red wine through his glass. Satoru gazed at his reflection almost dreamily, seemingly too deep in thought that he felt far from reach.

Or maybe you were the one who was detached, the one who kept pushing him away, because you could offer him nothing but a lame nod. “I’m glad to hear that...”

“What about you? You don’t look too happy.”

Your eyes widened at his worry. “No, I-I’m happy, of course. It’s just...it’s unplanned, and I’ve had my whole life planned out that I’m not really sure how this will all fall into place together.”

“Hey,” he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing warmth back into your skin that you hadn’t noticed turned cold from the nerves. Unlike his usual self with eyes brimming with glee, you could only see tenderness in him now, some sort of silent vow through a private smile shared only between the two of you in that moment in the solace of his home. Your home. “I promise I’ll be there for you and the baby every step of the way. I know that I haven’t had the best reputation and I have zero idea on parenting, but you’re not alone in this. You can trust me on this one, just like how we always trusted each other during work. Being a parent and running a business are both responsibilities right?”

“Yeah...”

“Well then you already know we work well together. We’re great partners!” he cheered, patting your shoulder way too bro-like. You resisted the urge to cringe. “We’ll be great parents, Y/N. I’m sure of that.”

Unsure of what else to do, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, you would be great parents as long as both of you never gave up. The thought of eating meals with him again with another addition to the table made you smile, and you hadn’t noticed you were spacing out, thumb running over his knuckles that were smooth for a man who never knew a day of hard labour. It wasn’t until you felt something prodding at you metaphorically, and you chuckled nervously as you saw Satoru smiling mysteriously at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “I’ve just never seen you this close before; not so much that I paid attention anyway. But this is nice – having you here, I mean. It gets lonely here sometimes.”

“Don’t you bring your girlfriends around?”

“I never make them stay,” was all he said, and just like that, whatever thread that was beginning to form snapped. Satoru released his hold on you and gestured to your plate, carrying the dishes in his hand before leaving you alone on the table. Like always – a whiplash. “I’ll clean up, you can rest in your room now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Do you even know how to do them?”

“Yeah, my mother forced me to wash dishes because she didn’t want me to rely on the house help too much,” he informed, the new information shocking you right to the core as he put on dishwashing gloves and started scrubbing. From this angle, he sure looked damn nice and domestic in just a white shirt, hair ruffled down to bangs.  “I’ll be right there with you,” Satoru announces casually, spinning on his heel with red cheeks once he realized what he said. “For just a goodnight, I mean! We’re not sharing rooms!”

“Yeah, no,” you coughed out, “We’re definitely not.”

It felt…surreal, to wake up in a room much grandiose than yours yet felt like home even for the first night. Satoru handled your moving in rather happily; you found him singing to himself this morning as he brewed his own coffee before realizing you were right behind him, sleepy as you lazily made waffles for the both of you. Everything flowed nicely and normally, like this had always been a normal thing that for a moment, you questioned once more what would happen next.

You were now getting ready for work, hands tugging at his tie because he was such a man-child who couldn’t even properly knot his own tie. His suit was custom tailored and he looked effortlessly gorgeous – beauty ripped straight from magazines he was constantly a front page of, but his tie was skewered and loose that it irritated you.

“You’re such a mess without me.”

Satoru bent down to wiggle his brows at you, thought you didn’t notice because he wouldn’t stay still for you to fix his tie fast enough. “Isn’t this sweet; you fixing my tie for me as we both get ready for work?” he teased, “We’re like a married couple already.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”

“Then how can I give you more babies?” picking up the newspaper on the coffee table beside you, you rolled it and started whacking him, a string of profanities colorfully painting his otherwise monochrome and sleek walls. Satoru’s laughter boomed all over the room even as he wiggled away from you, clutching his bicep that had been the victim of your abuse. “Ow, ow, I was joking! Jeez, woman, you are strong. Fight men a lot like this?”

“I work with you. My fighting instincts are always activated.”

His laugh really was annoying. But it did help ease your nerves – though you’d never tell him that – as you sat beside him in his car, the expensive leather seats no longer strange to you. It would’ve felt like any other day where you accompanied him somewhere, except the reason was different now, and it came crashing down on you of your current situation that things were undeniably different from now on.

You immediately stepped away from him the moment you got out of the car, clutching your clipboard to your tummy when Satoru bumped his shoulder with yours. “Come closer, it’s fine. No one will suspect a thing,” he points to the crowded building with people bumping and walking past each other, everyone too occupied in their own heads to even notice you.

It wasn’t much, but hearing his voice and reassurances relaxed you, even for just a little bit. Maybe your first day at work after the baby news wouldn’t be so bad, after all, but it seemed you had spoken too early.

Satoru heavily insisted that you worked inside his office from now on.

Your desk was located right outside his office, the phone line always within reach in case you needed to pass calls to him or if he needed you to come. Satoru preferred the privacy of his own space – or so he said; he actually just didn’t want you to witness him slacking around and experience your wrath – but now he was dragging you inside his office, pushing your shoulders down until you were ‘settled in.’

You didn’t even want to ask where he got a new desk from, or why it had to be right across from him. His desk remained elevated on a few levels, the welcoming lobby of the room filled with couches and stacks of coffee with a rich amount of sugar cubes.

Safe to say, most of the morning was spent (or rather, wasted) on you telling Satoru off. The man was too persistent, coming in on the office at random times of the hour with either snacks or heaps of biscuits on his arms. He always greeted you with a wide grin on his face, only to be kicked out of his own office because you had his hellish schedule and events to deal with. That was around three hours ago when you’d asked him to shut up and go bother someone else. You were halfway around finishing your workload for today when the door swung open, a tuft of white hair and mischievous eyes peeking through.

“Hey! Just checking in on mommy—”

“Satoru!”

“What? It’s just you and I,” he defended with a shrug, welcoming himself inside. Surprisingly, he was empty handed, though the pout on his lips told you it was against his will. “Seriously though, do you need anything? Do you want snacks? Tea? Do you need help going to the bathroom? You haven’t moved in your desk for an hour now.”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant, not disabled,” you ignored him for a while, resuming to working back on his schedule for the month. There were a bunch of e-mails you still had to respond to, which normally wouldn’t be such a daunting task if Satoru wasn’t shifting his weight from one foot to another, the sounds of his shoes hitting the tiles in an annoying click-clack rhythm getting to you. “Will you stop fidgeting! Your anxiety gives me anxiety, stop that!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I just feel like there’s something I should be doing.”

“Shutting up and letting me work in peace would be great, thank you.”

“You really don’t need anything?” Sending him a warning glare, Satoru sucked in his cheeks and ran back to his desk where he hid behind the safety of his large monitor. “Nope, yeah, I got the message: leave you alone. Good luck with that then, I’ll need those archives to pull up for our meeting with the directors later at five.”

Muttering a sarcastic finally under your breath, you resumed working.

The routine was per usual – answer the calls professionally with a welcoming and sweet voice, a pen always in one hand to jot down notes in reminders, adjust his schedules, work out his plans, go to him whenever he needed to sign something before responding back to e-mails. You were focused as you always were, but someone wasn’t, and it was getting harder and harder to keep being placated.

It didn’t help that he made no effort to hide the fact he was slacking off, the tip-taps of him randomly pressing keys on the keyboard similar to a fork dragging down a plate.

“I can feel you burning holes at the back of my head,” you twittered, “What do you need?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just realizing how beautiful you are right now.”

You paused. Unable to deny your curiosity over how serious he sounded, you spun around in your swivel chair. Satoru had his chin on his hands as he stared right back at you, his face devoid of expression that you couldn’t pick up on a single clue. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course the bastard would be teasing you, his loud chuckles a painful reminder of that. It was best to ignore him, so you went back to reading e-mails and forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. “We’re at work. Please stop distracting me; I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like a creep.”

“Sorry, babe, I’ll try to be less distracting next time, though I can’t control my charisma, you know!”

You jotted your thumb to your desk outside, “I can walk back to my desk where you can’t see me. That’d be a great for both of us.”

“Stay right there, I was joking!”

“Do you promise to be quiet and actually do your job if I stay?”

“With you disciplining and ordering me around like that, why not?” Mouth open for another heated retort, Satoru stopped you before you could say anything, his aura more serious this time. He was always like this; fooling around and maturing the next second, only for the cycle to repeat and test your patience. “I’m just teasing you, Y/N, I’ll shut up now. You’re free to end work as soon as you’re tired though; the driver is waiting in the parking lot whenever you want to go home.”

“I’ll go home with you.” Home. It felt weird to say that, but also…natural.

“You’ll stay with me at work today?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you responded with a one-shoulder shrug. That seemed to be enough for him, however, and it wasn’t long before Satoru found the oh so rare and fleeting motivation to work hard.

Once he was settled, sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms and brows furrowed as he centered all his attention on the pile of paperwork before him, there was no stopping him.

Roles reversed and positions switched, you were now the one unable to take your eyes off him.

In this light, in this moment, Gojo Satoru had never looked more beautiful. He was much the same as you in the manner you never really noticed each other this way before; not romantically, but even just person to person. In your eyes, he was nothing but your irritating boss whose boisterous self always crowded over your peace, and in his eyes, you were nothing but his secretary who he knew always silently hoped would leave you alone.

But things were different now. You were different now.

Boundaries there may be, you couldn’t help that fluttering forming in your stomach. Contentment, happiness, relief, nervousness – all of them jumbled into one big mess. Out of them all, however, there was most definitely adoration, either out of respect for his unexpected kindness, or simply because it felt nice to feel for once.

Turning away from him until your back was the only thing he could see, you hid your smile as you secretly held your belly.

You’d never been reckless before, but what was to be a good story when there wasn’t a mistake or two made?

[ssj2hindudude]

Potatoes Rap Cypher

Aru: Let's Go!

Lightning child, lying, wild,

Feral when you get me riled

Took legendary hero title

Don't make me bury you under Palace's tiles

Leader of the new Pandava crew

Took on demons, deities, and my father too

Got my sisters on my side, nothing we can't do

Now see what happens when my Vajra hits you

*autotune*

Pandava Arjuna, daughter of Indra, ended the war between devas and asuras; spread out the amrita, sided by Krishna, fly with Subala, leading the Nairrata;

Smartass as Krithika, Drip hero pajamas; Ping pong be playin' ya, Rich so they call me Shah; Rook at me charge, hero at large, strike the boys so hard, I'm dating an apsara.

Mini:

Terrified, but not for me

Worried for your health when you mess with my team

Daughter of Death, your soul will reap

Beg my father for life, you won't get my mercy

Dee-Dee in hand, didis' my clan

Making illusions and blocking your mans

Indian-Filipino, two worlds at my command

Cats-eye glasses looking down on the land

Stared down a giant, nearly made him cry

Say I look like Dora, ok fine

I'm just prepared, couldn't beat me if you try

Piss me off and you might just die.

Riding nightmares straight outta dreams

Killing it out here, save your begs and pleas

Healing the game, nothing can touch me

Oh you're afraid of snakes? Their prince calls me his queen.

Brynne:

Killing you all like my name on your tongue

Flows like the wind, you better run

Get me enraged and you're all done

Oh by the way, my brother's Hanuman

Gave me a mace because I am smashing

Hulk wishes that he could have my level of thrashing

The blows that I'm landing, the deaths I am handing,

Bodies falling and crashing

Rakshasa blood because I am a savage

Baddie in the kitchen, causing fire damage

Shapeshifter, cannot touch me when I ravage

Ask Ammamma about all of my wrecked havoc

Eating your armies like platters of Pira

Ask Gunky and Funky, I'm the one to fear-a

Only calm when I'm with my baby Hira

Don't mess with the greatest wind war-rea (warrior)

Nikita and Sheela:

*with soul*

Floral fashionista breaking your scheming

Taking us down? You must be dreaming

In five seconds, vines have you screaming

Begging for mercy when the eyes start gleaming

Tiara on point 'cause I am a royal

Wearing the PJs 'cause I win in my sleep

Critique your outfit as you're buried in soil

Got the future in my sight, man we can't be beat

Boss from Guyana, should've dawned on ya

Psychic wonder child, just call me Anya

Walking like a model looking down on you peasants

Spilling tea of the future in the past and present

Underestimate us 'cause we have no myths?

We'll just sneak up on ya, you won't know what hit.

Mess with our squad, you'll be feeling the trouble

When we're done with you, you'll be seeing double, oh.

Aiden:

Prince charming shows up, now start the dance

When the scimitars come out, you won't even stand a chance

Taking out full armies in a camera flash

I'm a Shadow, facts, finish it with one slash

Ladies fall as I hit them with the smoulder

Fighting as I bear burdens you could never shoulder

Make you regret the battle, you don't wanna start this

Striking without mercy, you can call me heartless.

Heroine troll loves a snob like me

Love her more even if she's the death of me

'Cause they tried to kill me twice, came back every time

I'm the baddest Wifey you'll ever find

Draupadi incarnate, Pandava adjacent

Got BB's fire inside, doesn't matter who I'm facing

Hear my voice and what I'm 'bout to do

As I take the title of best husbando AND waifu

Rudy: Oh yeah. Alright! Ok! Let's go! Uhhh... You know what, screw it.

*throws rock* *autotune*

Bringing in the Naga Prince; Fangs sharp enough to break the skin; Scales on my face glistening; Underwater kingdom, always dripping

Black and white vision 'cause you're all old news

Made two ancient snakes dance to my tunes

Barely need to try so I often just snooze

Why bother steppin' up? I just can't lose!

Turning pale, they flail, they bail, they wail, they run the second they see the tail; It's fun, you're done, I've won, so run, snipe with my bow like it's a gun.

Strike like a serpent 'fore you take a breath (hiss)

When I'm through there ain't nothing left (hiss)

Reckless, risk taker, rushing ahead

Got my dark queen with me so I don't fear death

Kara:

Sun's out, daughter's in

Burning, brazing, fury blazing

Calling you out for all your sins

Turn them to ashes, don't think I'm playing

Deus ex machina, dictionary

More knowledge than Alexa, visionary

Tired of the toxic, making me weary

Pulling out Sunny, show you pain that's searing

Killed the Sleeper first, made him feel his curse, showed him I can hurt, took down the worst;

Forgot it all, can't make me fall, standing tall, can't play this doll;

My fire inspires, burns all of the liars, sitches turn dire, I'm lighting your pyres; Down to the wire, Aiden, my ire, rising higher, burning brighter.

Trident I'm armed, I'm bringing the harm, you're not even warm, my climax has formed, sided by Rama, ending the drama, fulfilling my dharma, that's Karna's karma!

Cypher List (in case I do this again)

[authorforrosie]

Title: You make her breakfast to bed on her birthday and she reacts in a cute way.

Pairing: Lisa|You. [GxG]

Warnings: None because she’s the cutest like always. My bias.

Words: 742

Author Notes: Happy Birthday Lisa Manoban. One of the cutest human’s on this planet.

4:30am could you read when you turned around on your side to glance on your clock today were Lisa's birthday and you wanted to make her birthday morning very special that's why you went shopping yesterday to buy everything you need to make her breakfast in bed. You both met six years ago when she accidentally spilled a hot tea to the café you worked at until late 2018. You didn't believe in love at the first time around that time until you saw her in the café. Her smile made you happy on that day. Now you were a international famous successful singer, rapper, actress and model.

You went into the bathroom to finish getting ready before getting dressed into one of Lisa's hoodie and pants a merchandise from LaLisa. A few minutes you walked downstairs into the kitchen by then it was 5:10am. You put your headphones on before Spotify started playing the whole Blackpink discography.

- -

9:00am were on the clock when you finished setting up two tray's for her with all her favorite food and decoration the house for her birthday party later where the bandmates would join you both besides her friends and family that you let fly out with your private jet. You took the trays walking upstairs into the main bedroom from a house you owned with Lisa together. You both paid for it four years ago a decision which you never regretted in the whole four years of you living together.

You crawled on the bed next at Lisa's sleeping figure after you put the trays on each nightstand next at your bed her hair were messy everywhere her mouth slightly open. Her nose scrunched up once when you kissed the tip of it her eyes were stirring when you kissed all over her face. One of her eyes opened while she giggled when you kissed her ticklish neck.

„Happy birthday my beautiful princess. You're the love of my entire life." Whispered you with love in your voice.

Lisa felt butterflies in her stomach when she heard your last sentence she wrapped her arms around your waist pulling you so much closer into her body until there wasn't any space left between you both she kissed you passionately. You kissed her back passionately one of your hand run through her short hair which you loved as much as her with long hair. Her cheeks flushed red when you kissed her cheeks twice before take her hand into your own hand.

You both pulled away from each other when oxygen became a problem into the passionately kiss

„Thank you. My glorious baby." Mumbled Lisa with happiness in her voice.

Lisa glanced around seeing two trays on either nightstand next at the bed both laid on currently with a happy expression on her face. A smile tug on her lips when you confessed that you made breakfast in bed for her to celebrate into her birthday with food which is the only correct way in Lisa's opinions. Lisa and you shared the breakfast eating it together in between feeding each other with airplane noises. She grins when you gave her a kiss on the forehead she couldn't believe how many butterflies she could feel in her stomach though being so helpless in love with you. Lisa moaned with happiness when she tasted how good you made the food.

„You're such a good cook which means you are definitely to 100% percent wifey material and I will make sure that you are the future Mrs Manoban. My darling." Complimented Lisa with happiness and seriousness in her voice.

You giggled when she kissed the sensitive spot on your neck that's very ticklish your giggles got louder when she started to tickling you with a happy expression on her face. You both giggled while tickling each other until it turned into cuddling together again with you on top of her.

Her cats ‘meowed’ and dog ‘barks’ twice which you both guessed means happy birthday in animal language she giggled when the animals jumped on your bed. You both pet them kissing their fur once while the progress with a happy expression on the face from you both. That’s exactly how you both decided to spend her birthday morning together because it made you both the happiest you’ve ever been besides on date times.

[mxpseudonym]

I Don't Think I Will

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Mob Wife!Reader

Reader Gender Expression: She/her pronouns and wifey

Summary: At a place that he still considers theirs, Luca meets with the woman who is his wife, even if by title only.

Length: 1114 words (allegedly)

Warnings: none

A/N: Let's call this arranged marriage to lovers to frenemies (heavy on the enemy)

--

Luca walked into the dimly lit bar. It was quiet on this Tuesday evening and slightly smoky due to the cigars wafting from a group of men in the corner. The musky tobacco and soft jazz almost took Luca back to better days in his mind, but he had no time to revisit. He was on a mission.

He looked to the bartender, who was diligently cleaning crystal glasses behind the bar. The young man motioned down the bar, and Luca nodded. Just like he'd ordered, the bartender gave him a call when the woman was still there after 10 pm or when she'd surpassed five glasses of brandy, whichever came first.

This time it was both.

She didn't turn to look at him when he approached, but a knowing smirk slid on her face, one that made him wonder if she'd figured out his little system.

"I'll have a scotch," he ordered needlessly as he slid onto the stool beside her. It was the same every time he came. A nice scotch that was his consolation prize, no matter how the evening unfolded. Luca interlaced his hands on the bartop and watched as she stirred her dark drink with a cherry on a stick.

"$500,000. She offered me half a million this time. I'm beginning to feel impressed."

Luca sighed and dug into his jacket pocket for his case of toothpicks. They'd be here for a while longer.

"Ma doesn't know how to negotiate, that's for sure. $500,000 to get you out of the family name? That's too much."

"Too much? Gosh, men are clueless about these things." She finally turned to him, eyes glossy and cheeks warm. "She's trying to buy me out before I get pregnant and infiltrate your bloodline, of course. It's so dire that I should wait it out until she gets to at least $800,000. A million even."

"Eh? Don't do this to my mother." Luca shook his head. The women in his life were vicious.

"It's not my fault." She shrugged. "Anyway, I turned it down."

"Really?"

"Yes. I said, Mrs. Changretta, I love your son very, very much." His wife reenacted, barely finishing before breaking into laughter. Luca huffed and watched as she placed a manicured hand over her red lips to keep it together.

"Don't toy with her. She's not a fool."

"No, that she isn't. But what should I have said? It turns out the only thing stronger than love is spite? Do you think I'd let your son die peacefully and without me?"

"Hateful. That's the kind of woman you are," Luca said as if he'd finally landed on a word after thinking about it for ages. But if he thought that would hurt her, he didn't know her at all. She smiled brightly.

"Only on my good days."

"Insufferable on the bad," He grumbled.

"Been reading the dictionary, I see."

The bartender placed a glass in front of him, and Luca took a drink of his scotch. He could hear pattering against the frosted windows as the subtly sweet notes of vanilla graced his tongue. Luca looked over to his wife, who had now moved on to flirting with the bartender.

He'd be a liar, and a bad one at that, if he'd let himself wonder how they got here. After killing a bank teller during a robbery, Luca was sent to America to make himself useful. Part of that was entering a marriage that would merge the Changrettas with another dangerous, influential family with deep roots in New York, Chicago, and a few places in South America. If the Changretta's were going to stick around, they had to evolve after all. It just so happened that he'd be marrying the woman next to him, who was currently giving another man the smile that still did something to him.

Luca knew few things for sure in this life, but one thing he did know was that he'd never blame her. For anything. The Changrettas all but staged a mutiny against her family to take over both organizations. Her brother, who she loved dearly, was lost in it all, and her father passed just a year after. And now, the Changretta matriarch was hellbent on getting the newest Mrs. Changretta out of the family, out of the business, and wholly out of their lives. He did wonder, though, once she got what she was after, which he suspected wasn't the money, where would she go?

His wife turned to him with a furrowed brow, and the bartender raised a brow before walking away. Ah, he'd asked that out loud.

"Where am I going to go? Chicago," she said with a shrug as if she'd said it a million times.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Come on," he urged, motioning for her to continue. "You know you want to tell me."

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" She asked, her words beginning to slur, but her wits never dimming. Luca leaned closer to her.

"I know you feel something, even a bit. The way you show up in this bar,"

"I come to this bar so that it haunts you and calls your love foolish," she stopped him. "Did you fall in love here once? Will you follow your wife here unconditionally? Fool."

She scoffed and finished her glass. The nostalgia from before hit Luca again like a train. He let it take over.

It was here, in the booth now reserved by cigar-smoking gamblers, that they would meet when they wanted to be alone before the wedding. It was just outside of either family's jurisdiction, and they tipped well enough to get the bartender to love them. It was the place they came the night before their wedding, with youthful hearts that allowed them to express just how lucky they were to marry someone they actually liked. Perhaps like turned to love at some point. He'd never know. The takeover happened only six months into their marital bliss. Still...

"Alright, I think you've had too much to drink. Let's go," Luca's wife scolded him, though it was she who stumbled when she stood. Seven glasses were well beyond her limit. Luca stood and caught her gently by the elbow, then helped her into her coat.

"There we are."

"Oh please, don't be doting now. And let go of me."

"No," he said, surprising even himself. In the dim light of the bar that was surely theirs, she looked up at him in some confusion. Luca looked down at his wife with determination. It gave her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"No, I don't think I will let you go."

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

but in my heart i know the only woman she gave her heart to is lauren. 👀 Lauren is the wifey Queen and and no one will take that title away from her.//Lauren is the only woman that's linked to Camila that makes them scared. No other ship/woman does that. Camren is the only ship its been years we haven't seen them together but still get new fans every day. Camren is the only interaction that get the same reaction everytime. We call Lauren when its Camila related. Lol Lauren control your wife. 🤪

This ☝