#enjoy seggsy readers

[nevernonline]

✧.* how to lose the girl; xmh

synopsis: minghao was feeling tired of shallow relationships. his friends, noticing his frustration, challenge him to pursue a girl and then push her away within ten days. intrigued by the idea, he reluctantly accepts the bet as a fun challenge.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring/s: afab reader x non-idol hao.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), low-key fuckboy hao

warning/s: alcohol consumption, some bad jokes, nothing too bad or seggsy

word count: 10.3k

content: all the vibes of how to lose a guy in ten days but nawt. enjoy xo!

Day 1 - The Bet

In the lively heart of the city, Minghao, was out flaunting his charming looks and a playful grin, typically on his much too expensive and lavish work lunches which gave him and the rest of his colleges an excuse to pick up a bunch of beautiful women to take home every night, a lot of them falling hard for him no matter how poorly he left them hanging the morning after. But lately, he noticed how he always found himself drowning in a sea of shallow connections, and it was starting to wear on him.

Sensing his distress, his friends hatched an interesting plan to inject some excitement into his love life: they dared him to make a girl fall for him and then push her away in just ten days! “No way in fucking hell could he pull this off, he’ll get bored by day four.” jeered one friend, gleefully rubbing his hands together. With a mix of reluctance and curiosity bubbling inside him, Minghao accepted, eager to see how fast he could make a girl sprint for the exit.

Across town, y/n was navigating her own challenges. She was as her friends described a fierce, independent powerhouse who was on a mission to conquer the advertising world and prove to her office overrun by male colleagues that she meant business. Relationships? She just viewed them for what they were distractions in her quest for success—something she simply couldn’t afford. With her sights set on her career, she was about to discover just how unpredictable life and love could be when the most unexpected challenges came knocking. 

Day 2 - The Meeting

Minghao first spotted Y/n at a coffee shop, her eyes glued to her laptop as she furiously typed, rather loudly should he add. He decided she would be the perfect target. Something about her tight lipped focused face, her hair perfectly slicked into a ponytail, not a hair out of place, something about her felt more like a challenge than a perfect sweep for his bet. 

He approached her with his trademark smile, confident and carefree. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her. y/n looked up, a mix of annoyance and intrigue in her gaze. 

“Actually, yes,I don’t care to do my work around a fuck boy flirting with me, my office has enough of those. Have a good day.” she replied bluntly, not ready to be derailed from her work.

Minghao, undeterred by her obvious dismissal, sat down anyway. “I’m Minghao,” he introduced himself. “And I think you owe me a chance to change your mind.”

She raised an eyebrow, still looking down at her computer, typing a bit less loud now, almost as if she was intrigued and didn’t want him to know but the scowl on her face said she was still skeptical. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he replied playfully. “But first, you’ll have to let me take you on a perfect first date.”

Y/n almost chuckled at his audacity, but there was an undeniable spark of intrigue in her gaze. Little did she know, mingling with Minghao was about to shake up her life. 

“Fine. If that will get you to leave me alone while I work, I’ll agree.” 

“I’m not leaving here until I get your contact information,” Minghao laughed. 

Rolling her eyes, Y/n dug through her wallet, searching for a business card. “Here,” she said, finally pulling one out and extending it towards him.

But Minghao just held his hand up in a stop-motion gesture, shaking his head. “No, not a business card. I need to know you’ll actually show up, so let me have your personal phone number instead.”

Y/n stared at him, incredulity mixing with a lingering smile. “Oh, so bold. And what makes you think I will?”

“Because,” he leaned closer, his expression earnest now, “I have a feeling that once you get to know me, you won’t want to miss out. Plus, if I leave with a business card, how will I ever convince you to let me take you on that perfect date?”

Her skepticism flickered for a second under the brightness of his confidence, but she still hesitated. “You really think you can convince me?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone teasing yet sincere. “And if I fail, I promise I’ll leave you alone forever. Deal?”

For a moment, Y/n pondered the spontaneity of his request, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, a grin broke free on her lips as she typed her number into his phone, the anticipation of the unknown sparking excitement within her. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, handing back the phone with a hint of warning in her tone.

Minghao's eyes lit up with genuine delight as he saved her contact. “You won’t regret this,” he promised, his voice softening a touch.

As he returned the phone to her, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty mixed with exhilaration. Perhaps there was something to this spontaneous gamble after all. Little did they know, that simple decision would pave the way for an unforgettable connection and adventures neither had anticipated.

Day 3 - The Chase

Over the days that followed, Minghao played his part, showering her with attention that ranged from over-the-top romantic gestures to quirky surprises. He brought her favorite pastries to the office, sent her memes that made her laugh, and even bombarded her with cheesy pick-up lines. Each time, Y/n found herself torn between annoyance and amusement.

At first, she had tried to brush him off, responding to his texts with one-word replies or simply ignoring his more audacious attempts to brighten her day. However, Minghao persisted, his cheerful determination almost unwavering. One afternoon, she returned from a long meeting to find her desk decorated with colorful sticky notes adorned with doodles and handwritten compliments. “You’re the best part of my day,” one note claimed, and despite her initial irritation, a small smile tugged at her lips.

Minghao was relentless, his charm starting to break down her walls. She had to admit there was something about him—he was refreshingly carefree, unlike the uptight guys she usually dated. While others might have tried to impress her with their accomplishments or flashy gifts, Minghao found ways to make her laugh, embracing a lightheartedness that was both refreshing and frightening. But Y/n was determined to keep him at arm's length; she had a career to focus on.

Still, the more time they spent chatting, the more she found herself looking forward to his texts. Each meme and quirky voice note felt less like an intrusion and more like a highlight of her day. One evening, after a particularly grueling week, she found herself daydreaming about a potential picnic under the stars, something Minghao had suggested a few days prior.

“No, no,” she chastised herself, shaking her head as she turned her attention to her laptop. “Stay focused.” 

Yet, every time she tried to immerse herself in her work, her mind would inevitably wander back to him. The way he laughed, the warmth in his gaze, even the way he playfully challenged her every now and then—there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.

On a particularly busy Friday, while sipping her coffee and reviewing a presentation, she felt her phone vibrate on the desk. A message appeared: “Hey, just thought you might want to know that your favorite pastry is waiting at the corner café. No obligations. Just a little pick-me-up to start your weekend. 😊”

Y/n's heart softened, a flutter of appreciation sweeping through her. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, trying to suppress the smile creeping onto her face. Maybe she could allow herself a moment of distraction.

She quickly glanced at the time and the empty office around her, nobody here really worked on the weekends aside from herself so she decided to take a break just this once. With a random jolt of excitement, she stood up, brushed aside her work-related thoughts, and headed to the café. She spotted him sitting comfortably at a small table, a bright smile illuminating his face. Before she could even say a word, he raised a pastry in greeting, “I didn’t know if you liked it warm or cold, so I got one of each, just to be safe!”

Her laughter bubbled out despite herself. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“But I did, you mentioned to me the other day you never have fun on the weekends anymore because you're busy working, ” Minghao countered, setting the pastries down and leaning back in his chair. “Life's too short not to indulge in the little things. Besides, you're worth it.”

His words stirred something in her, something she had kept buried under layers of practicality. A mix of anxiety and excitement danced in her chest as they shared bits of pastry and stories, laughter weaving between them effortlessly. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n considered that perhaps life wasn’t just about hard work and career goals—it could also be about spontaneous moments and unexpected connections.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the café, Y/n let herself enjoy the moment, her defenses slowly crumbling, piece by piece. “Want to go for a drink? Unless you have plans or something?” 

“You’re asking me out? Wow, Y/n, I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d actually enjoy that. Big boss lady is paying, right?” Minghao pressed, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her lips. “Very funny. I should have known you’d want to make this about money,” she teased, her heart racing slightly at the thought of stepping into the realm of casual dating.

“I’m kidding. But you know I’d never let you cover the whole tab, right?” he replied, his voice playful yet sincere. “How about we split it? One thing I’ve learned is that relationships, friendships or otherwise, are all about balance.” 

“That sounds fair but please let me get it actually I feel a little bad about you always paying anyway. Plus, I asked you. That's how it works right?,” she agreed, her spirit lifted by his lightheartedness. “Where do you want to go?” 

“I know this cozy little bar just around the corner. They have some cool drinks and the vibes are good,” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Plus, I’ve heard they serve a mean nacho platter.”

“Nachos and drinks sound perfect. Wow- I hate that I actually got excited by a fucking macho platter, but okay.” she replied, feeling a surge of excitement and momentary embarrassment over some fucking chips with cheese. She was surprised at how nervous yet invigorated she felt. 

As they walked to the bar, the warm evening air enveloped them like a casual embrace. With every step beside him, Y/n felt the weight of her daily grind lift. “So, what’s your go-to cocktail?” she asked, surprisingly eager to keep the chatter flowing.

“I’d say I’m a classic and simple beer or wine dude, but I’m always game for something a bit off the beaten path. You?” 

“Dirty martini,” she answered, a proud smile crossing her face. “Simple but sophisticated.” 

“Ah, the big boss lady indeed. But the real question is gin or vodka?” He winked, and for a moment, she felt herself blush, something she hadn’t experienced in ages. 

“Vodka, but shut you fucking mouth and don’t tell any martini enthusiasts. Extra dry, extra dirty.” 

“Not extra wet and extra dirty?” 

Y/n nearly choked on her own spit, watching his face crinkle into a big smile before they erupted into laughter. 

They snagged a small table tucked away in a corner, perfect for engaging in their own little world. 

After placing their orders, conversations flowed as smoothly as the drinks. Minghao effortlessly switched between sharing amusing anecdotes about his life and asking Y/n about hers, genuinely interested in her career aspirations and what fueled her passions. With every laugh they exchanged and each shared story, Y/n found herself relaxing more, drawn into his effortless charm. 

“Alright, I need the truth,” Minghao said, leaning in as if about to share a juicy secret. “What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?” 

Y/n took a moment, contemplating her answer before finally admitting, “Reality TV. It’s a little bit shameful, I know, but there’s something about the drama that I can’t resist.” 

Minghao laughed heartily, the sound filling her with warmth. “No shame in that. I actually can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy watching Love Island. I’m more of a cooking show fan, to be honest. Nothing quite like watching people fail spectacularly while I sit there eating takeout as if I can cook this shit myself.”

“Okay, we’re definitely going to have a night where I introduce you to some of the best reality stars of all time, where you will sit and not fucking complain. And since I can cook, I will go hell's kitchen style on the stove. ” she declared, a playful challenge glimmering in her eyes. 

“Hey, look I’m game, but only if you let me judge your cooking like I’m the god himself Ramsay.” he exclaimed, his excitement unmistakable. “Just let me know when. I’ll bring the snacks and the commentary.”

As the evening progressed, they shared stories about childhood memories, dreams, and the quirks that made them who they were. With each revelation, Y/n felt a deeper connection forming, an understanding that perhaps taking a little time away from work wouldn’t derail her ambitions after all. 

Maybe it was time to let a little chaos in, she thought, as their conversation twisted and turned down unexpected paths, igniting sparks of joy she hadn’t anticipated, making her question everything she thought she knew about herself and about love.

Minghao got the vibe that his little plan for making Y/n fall for him could potentially end up with him feeling the same way, but not yet. He pushed that feeling deep down inside his gut, almost like he could hide it from everyone, including himself. His heart raced with excitement, but mingled with a twinge of anxiety. He didn’t want to rush things or scare her off with his burgeoning feelings. Just because she was opening up didn’t mean she was ready for more, and he wanted to tread carefully even if it was just to fuck around for a bet with his friends. 

“So, Y/n, since you’re not working tomorrow, want to come hang out at my place for a bit? Have a nightcap? Maybe watch a movie or something?” Minghao questioned, his voice casual, but the flicker of anticipation in his eyes betrayed him.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the prospect of going to his place stirring a mix of excitement and nerves within her. She knew this was a step beyond their playful banter, a leap into a territory where she would need to confront what she was feeling. But the words “why not?” danced on the tip of her tongue. 

“Sure, I’d love that,” she replied, a hint of eagerness surprising even herself. “But fair warning, if we’re watching a movie, it has to be a good one. Nothing corny please.”

“Oh come on, you seem like you’d love a good rom-com, I can tell.” Minghao laughed, and she found herself laughing along, the playful banter feeling natural and comforting.

As they bickered back and forth about their movie preferences, Y/n felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him. Maybe this was the chaos she needed in her life—this lighthearted connection that sparked something new and exhilarating.

“I know just the film to break your resistance,” Minghao declared, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Prepare yourself for a classic, then. I think you’ll love it, it’s one of my favorites.” 

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s as terrible as I imagine, you owe me.” Y/n countered playfully, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. 

“Deal.” he shot back with a cheeky grin, and the two clinked their glasses together in agreement, the camaraderie between them solidifying.

As they finished their drinks and shared a few more laughs, Y/n couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning—like an entrance into a world she had pushed away for too long, forever maybe.. And Minghao, with his undeniable charm and knack for fun, was animating a side of her she had almost forgotten existed.

After wrapping up the evening at the bar, they stepped back into the cool night air. The streets were softly illuminated, the stars twinkling overhead, creating an atmosphere that was very special. As they walked side by side toward Minghao's apartment, the distance felt comfortable, but somehow charged with an undercurrent of anticipation.

“Y/n,” Minghao said, breaking the gentle silence, “I know we’ve only just started hanging out, but I just want to make sure you feel okay about this. I mean, about coming over.” He glanced at her, his expression earnest. “No pressure at all—I just genuinely enjoy your company.I’m not trying to be a player or whatever you assumed I was when we first met.”

His sincerity made her heart flutter. “I’m glad you said that, but it was fuck boy and you maybe have proved yourself beyond that title. I enjoy this too, and I think it’ll be fun to hang out more and get to know you. Just…uh, promise you wont judge me too harshly if I end up hogging the blanket during the movie or talking with popcorn in my mouth or something.” 

“Fair warning accepted,” he replied, a teasing gleam in his eye. “I might have to initiate a blanket-sharing strategy, I think we can make it work.” 

They both laughed, the playful energy crackling between them as they approached his building. Maybe she could allow herself to embrace this unexpected chaos, to explore a connection without overthinking it for once. And who knows? Perhaps Minghao wouldn’t just be a passing ship but a delightful step into a new chapter of her life. 

As they stepped into his cozy apartment, Y/n tucked that thought away for later, intent on simply enjoying the moment—and the thrill of where it might lead them.

Minghao took her coat off her shoulders, hanging it on the small black hooks by his front door. Sliding his own off gently placing them side by side. Instructing her where to place her shoes and bag on the marble entry table donning photos of his friends and family. 

“Your apartment is really cute, I can tell you like living here. It has a warm feel to it.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Minghao smiled taking in a whiff of his tobacco scented room spray, and grabbing y/n’s hand to lead her into his living room, taking a brief stop at his bar cart and grabbing a bottle of wine, while handing her two glasses to carry in her empty hand. 

The aroma of the wine filled the space as he poured their glasses, the deep crimson liquid swirling beautifully.

Minghao grinned, taking a sip of his own before handing one of the glasses over to her. Their fingers brushed for a moment, sending a spark of electricity that made her smile shyly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab the remote.”

Y/n settled onto the couch, sinking into the overly plush cushions. She took a moment to look around, noting the way the soft lighting cast a warm glow over the walls adorned with art—pieces that seemed to reflect Minghao’s adventurous spirit, each one telling a story.

When he returned, remote in hand, he plopped down beside her, his warmth radiating through her as he casually leaned back, scrolling through his streaming options. “Alright, let’s see what we have here. Brace yourself for my fucking unmatched taste in cinema,” he teased, glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Give me all that you got, I’m ready,” she replied with playful confidence, leaning into the moment.

With a few flicks of the remote, they settled on a classic action-comedy. The opening credits rolled as they adjusted their seats, finding a naturally comfortable closeness. The shared space between them began to feel charged with anticipation. 

As the film began, they laughed together at the antics on screen, occasionally glancing at each other, enjoying the laughter as a bridge between their hearts. Every shared chuckle seemed to layer on the connection that was forming, an unspoken understanding lacing the air around them.

“Minghao, I, uh have got to admit, this isn’t what I expected tonight,” Y/n said during a quiet moment, her eyes sparkling. “But I’m really glad it worked out and that I met you.”

“Yeah? Really? Me too,” he replied, his gaze softening as he turned to her. “I’ve wanted to hang out like this for a while. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same, but I’m glad we did. I’m glad I forced you to give me your phone number that day.” 

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his honesty. She had been guarded for so long, and here was Minghao, effortlessly peeling away at her layers with every shared moment.

As the movie progressed, he reached for the popcorn bowl perched on the coffee table, offering it to her. Their fingers brushed again, igniting an electric thrill that danced between them. The film faded into the background as Y/n found herself getting lost in the depths of his gaze.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” she began, leaning in slightly, “your blanket-sharing strategy may be your ultimate plan to seduce me. I see you.”

Minghao chuckled, taking her playful jab in stride. “Guilty as charged. What can I say? Who could resist a cozy blanket and beautiful company?” He pulled the soft throw from behind the couch, draping it over their laps.

As he settled back beside her, their shoulders nudged together under the blanket, his hand wrapped around her thigh and Y/n felt her heart race. There was an undeniable chemistry in the air, palpable like the fragrance of the wine swirling around them. 

Without thinking too much about it, she rested her head on his shoulder, throwing her hair back to reveal her neck—not as a move, just a way to make herself more comfortable. As she leaned in, she caught the subtle scent of Minghao’s cologne, warm and inviting, and felt the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder beneath her cheek. It was a small gesture, yet it felt so natural, almost like an instinctive draw to his warmth.

Minghao looked down at her with a side eye, surprised at how effortlessly they had crossed this invisible line. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin looked under the low light and the way her eyes widened with joy as she laughed at the antics on the screen. Her laughter was contagious, reverberating through him and making his heart race a little faster, a little louder in the calm of the room.

Suddenly, Minghao felt an unfamiliar pang of anxiety creep into his chest. The bet had seemed innocent—a way to explore the chemistry simmering between them—but now it felt like a threaded line tugging at him in different directions. Maybe the bet was a bad idea after all, because now he felt himself falling for someone without knowing what could come next, just like that. It was as if he had opened a door to an inevitable chaos while still trying to remain in control.

Yet every time she shifted slightly against him, every laugh that slipped from her lips, deepened the connection he felt. He had initially thought he’d be the one charming her, the one doing the chasing, but here they were, and Y/n’s mere presence had knocked him off his feet. It startled him, this flicker of vulnerability—that maybe he wasn’t just playing a game; he was investing real emotions.

“You okay?” Y/n murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her brow slightly furrowed as she noticed the contemplative look on his face.

He quickly masked his thoughts with an easygoing smile. “Yeah, just caught up in the movie,” he replied, trying to divert her attention. “The action scenes are really intense, right?”

Though she seemed to accept his diversion with a playful nod, he could see the hint of curiosity lingering in her eyes, a flash that told him she sensed something in the air between them. A moment of silence stretched between them like a tightly pulled string, neither of them willing to break it. Instead, they allowed the movie to fill the space, as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss against her lips. Something subtle and quick that was just perfect for the moment and wouldn’t derail the nice night they were sharing, he wasn’t ready for that yet. 

As the film progressed, Y/n shifted again, curling her body towards him slightly as a particularly funny scene played out, her laughter bubbling forth. It was that unfiltered joy he found intoxicating—a refreshing reminder that life could be this light, this fun, and maybe even a little crazy.

Day 4 - The Competition

During a group outing with friends, Minghao decided to reveal the second phase of his plan: he started being annoyingly competitive. “Let’s have a game night.” he declared, his voice ringing with enthusiasm as he rallied everyone around him. "I challenge you all to a series of ridiculous contests, from karaoke battles to board games. Losers buy the drinks." There was a mixture of excitement and groans from the group, but Minghao was unfazed. He thrived in this atmosphere, eager to galvanize Y/n into joining him in the chaos.

Y/n, who he knew hated losing, found herself reluctantly swept up in the energy of the night. A glimmer of excitement sparked in her eyes, even as she partnered with Minghao, who pretended to be completely uninterested in the competition. She could see the mischievous glint behind his facade, his playfulness luring her in.

As they tackled their first karaoke challenge, Minghao grabbed the microphone. He belted out an off-key rendition of her favorite song, doing little to hide his comedic flair. “You're fucking terrible at this.” Y/n teased him, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled up at the sight of his unfiltered enthusiasm.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get you to help me improve,” Minghao shot back, his smile never wavering. He pointed the microphone at her cheekily, inviting her to join in. The playful energy between them was palpable, the laughter of their friends helped her gain confidence.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t quell the smile creeping onto her lips. “You know I fucking suck at singing, right?” she joked, hopping up on stage beside him. In a moment of spontaneity, she grabbed the microphone and took the lead, pouring her heart into the next part of the song, using her off-key notes as a comedic backdrop. Her confidence radiated, and soon the others joined in, clapping and singing along.

The laughter and energy of the room felt electric, and for a moment, the competition melted away, leaving only joy. The night continued with a series of board games and ridiculous challenges, each one causing Minghao to lean in closer to Y/n as they plotted ways to win. 

 “What’s your game plan?” he whispered to her, though the intensity of his smile hinted he was thoroughly enjoying the game itself more than he let on. The way his eyes sparkled made her heart race a little, stirring a thrill she hadn’t anticipated and in that moment all she wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face with her lips.

“Honestly? I think our only plan is to distract the other teams with our charm,” Y/n replied, gesturing theatrically. “We’re clearly the most entertaining, so I kind of like it. It's a sweep.”

Minghao laughed, and the sound resonated in her chest. “Perfect strategy.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers as they whispered strategies into the fray of friendly competition raging around them.

As the night wore on, the playful banter and friendly sabotage culminated in a final showdown—an impromptu trivia contest that had everyone shouting questions at one another. “This one’s a gimme. Come on.” Minghao said, grinning ear to ear as he looked at Y/n. “I’ll let you take this one.”

She raised an eyebrow, half-surprised by his sudden willingness to let her answer. “Uh-huh, so this is your secret strategy—make me do all the work?” she said, nudging him playfully.

“Only the smart person's work,” Minghao shot back, laughter dancing in his voice as he leaned into her side. “And besides, I can’t afford another karaoke performance like that—I’m salvaging my reputation here.”

She smirked, appreciating the electric vibe still lingering in the air. “Fine, but you better promise to make up for it after this.”

Their competitive banter continued as the final questions rolled in. Y/n felt surprisingly exhilarated, and she realized that within the madness of the game night—amidst the silly antics and the thrill of competition—something deeper was taking root in her heart. Minghao, in all his competitive glory, was not just a friend; he was somebody who brought out a side in her she hadn’t even known existed.

Day 5 - The Realization

As time progressed, y/n found herself letting her guard down, enjoying Minghao’s company more than she intended. They shared late-night conversations, honest stories of their pasts, and hilarious anecdotes that made her laugh until she cried. But just as quickly as those feelings bloomed, fear crept in. Could she afford to get attached?

Both of them shied away from being honest with their feelings as a matter of protection from their pain in the past. 

Minghao especially realized how complicated the situation was. Could he really move forward with her without telling her the truth of why he asked her out in the first place? However, if he tells her the truth, he could lose her altogether. Each day that he hesitated felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, an unspoken tension hanging between them like the heavy clouds before a storm.

He recalled the tender moments they shared—the laughter, the stolen glances, the way her smile lit him up even when he felt like the weight of the world was on him. But lurking beneath those cherished memories was a foundation built on secrets and half-truths. He grappled with the fear that if he revealed the underlying reason for his affection, she might see him as just another guy in her life trying to throw her off her path, rather than someone who genuinely cared.

The truth was like a double-edged sword; it could liberate him or shatter the fragile bond they had formed. In those quiet moments, he could feel his heart wrestling with his mind—one part needing authenticity, while another begged for the safety of keeping his own secret. Was there a path that could lead them both to what they wanted rather than hurting them both?

He knew that eventually, he would have to choose a direction, but every path was filled with uncertainty. Perhaps, for now, he would focus on the little things—the warmth of her hand in his, the gentle way they navigated tough conversations. Yet, deep inside, he wondered how long they could remain strangers to their own truths. The clock was ticking, and each moment felt like an opportunity slipping away. 

Day 6 - The Plan Backfires

In an effort to push Y/n away to avoid hurting her, Minghao started purposely sending mixed signals. He ignored her texts, acted uninterested in their plans, and even pretended to be busy whenever she attempted to schedule time together. But to his surprise, Y/n didn’t waver. She matched his energy with playful banter and unwavering support, showing up outside his office with his favorite coffee just when he needed it—the same way he had done for her.

Each time she appeared, a smile lighting up her face, it reminded him of how deeply she understood him, and he knew his plan was backfiring. She took his teasing in stride, firing back with witty comebacks that reminded him of the vibrant connection they shared. He felt the walls he was trying to build between them start to crumble, intrigued and frustrated by the strength of her positive attitude. 

Why was he pushing her away when all she seemed to want was him? He could see the concern behind her laughter, the way her brow furrowed slightly when she caught him lost in thought, and it tore at his heart. Was this really the right way to protect her, or was he simply running from something that could be good for both of them?

On one particularly tough day, as he stared out the window, he caught a glimpse of her leaning against the wall, coffee in hand, waiting for him to take a moment to breathe. The sunlight caught her hair, giving her a glow that made her look like an angel in real life, and his chest tightened. She wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, and maybe that’s something he was drawn to. 

Instead of the irritation he anticipated feeling, Minghao began to appreciate her staying power. In that moment, he felt both grateful and terrified—grateful that she cared enough to stick around, and terrified that the longer he held back, the more he risked losing a part of himself he had forgotten even existed.

With each passing day, the facade he’d constructed started to feel less like protection and more like a prison. He saw how much she believed in him, not just as a friend, but as someone capable of finding happiness again. But as the walls crumbled beneath her unwavering kindness, he grappled with the realization that if he didn’t confront the truth soon, he might not just push her away, he might just lose her. Minghao knew he would have to decide soon to continue the charade or to find the courage to let her in. 

Day 7 - The Confession

One night, while they were taking a walk, the air was heavy with tension, and Minghao couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you keep coming back? I’m clearly trying to push you away,” he blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush, tinged with frustration and desperation.

Y/n stopped, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious for once. “Because, Minghao, I see something in you. I didn’t set out to fall for you, but I can’t help it. You starting to pull away is confusing me. What changed overnight that you can barely even look at me anymore?” Her tone was both challenging and vulnerable, a blend that cut through the discomfort hanging between them.

“It’s because—” Minghao swallowed hard, his heart racing as he looked into her eyes, feeling the weight of the truth pressing against his chest. He focused on her furrowed expression, “This was a bet, and I—”

“A bet?” Y/n’s voice rose, sharp almost like a knife diving into his chest. The surprised look on her face shifted rapidly from confusion to hurt, and it churned something deep within him. He was struck again by the disbelief in her eyes.

The silence between them was thick and suffocating. Minghao took a breath, searching for the right words, but they were lost on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” he pressed on, his voice softer now. “We started out as a joke—something to distract myself. It was my friend's idea that I foolishly agreed to. And then… then you became real to me.” He paused, trying to convey the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

Y/n crossed her arms, visibly hurt, but her gaze didn't waver. “You mean to tell me that all this time, all those moments we had—that they were just part of some fucking game with your buddies?” Her voice trembled slightly.

“No. It may have started that way, but it turned into something much deeper,” he pleaded, desperate to convey his truth. “I didn’t plan to fall for you. I didn’t plan on feeling this way at all. But once I did, I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought pushing you away would protect you from the truth.”

Y/n shook her head, her expression a blend of frustration and heartbreak. “You think pushing me away protects me? Minghao, it only pushes me into uncertainty. If you had just told me from the start, I could have chosen to stay or walk away. But now, you’ve  just made everything ten times fucking worse.” 

Feeling increasingly guilty he stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance he had created. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should have been honest with you. I never wanted to hurt you. The fear of losing you, it…” he trailed off, unsure how to articulate his feelings.

Y/n took a deep breath, her demeanor softening just a fraction. “You need to make a choice, Minghao. Either let me in, all the way, or please let me go. I.. uh, can’t handle this right now. I’ll try to give you a call in a few days or maybe see you around.”

The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, and Minghao realized that it was time to confront not only the truth of their beginning but also the reality of what was blossoming between them. He had been running from the idea of vulnerability for so long, but now faced with Y/n’s determination, he found just enough strength within himself to start breaking down the walls he had built. As he watched her walk away from him not turning back around like he wished she would have, for once, Minghao felt the stirrings of hope amidst his fear.

Day 8 - A Challenge

With Minghao’s words hanging in the air, Y/n found herself re-evaluating her feelings. She had initially wanted to leave him there on the street as a part of her past, but the connection they shared was stronger than she had anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want it to end after all, but she wasn’t willing to let him get away with tricking her so easily.

She decided on her own plan—something to throw him off his game truly in her own style just to get back at him, but only all in good fun. It was time to show Minghao that she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

Y/n had gotten in contact with one of Minghao's friends, a guy named Jisoo whom she had met during their karaoke competition. After a quick chat filled with enthusiasm and laughter, she proposed the idea of entering a “Battle of the Bands”-style karaoke show hosted by her workplace for charity. Jisoo was immediately on board and even rallied a few more of their friends to join in. But Y/n made one thing clear: they absolutely couldn’t let Minghao in on the secret. This was her chance to catch him off guard.

In the following weeks, his friends practiced relentlessly. Y/n wasn't just aiming to win at work; she wanted to create an unforgettable evening, one that would leave Minghao in pure shock. They practiced their songs, and even designed matching outfits for the event—a whimsically themed performance that would be impossible to forget.

Finally, the night of the charity show arrived. The venue was filled with colorful lights and the buzz of excitement as coworkers and friends gathered, taking their seats for what promised to be a lively night. Y/n donned a not necessarily work appropriate dress that reflected the playful spirit of her prank and maybe to catch someone's eyes.  She could already see Minghao mingling with some of his friends, his laughter filling the air, and she felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation flutter in her stomach.

As the show kicked off, the energy in the room was contagious. The first few acts were entertaining, but Y/n could barely focus. She was waiting for her moment to take the stage and introduce Minghao and the others who were waiting to humiliate their friend gathered backstage, the excitement was palpable. They could hear Minghao in the crowd, cheering loudly for the groups, and Y/n smiled to herself, knowing what was coming next.

When it was their turn to perform, Y/n’s heart raced. She walked onto the stage, focusing on the bright lights and the sea of faces staring back at her. She could spot Minghao in the crowd before she introduced him, watching his slightly puzzled but amused look on his face as he recognized members of his circle.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Y/n shouted into the microphone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, clinking their glasses and waving them in the air as the spotlight warmed her skin. 

“I have a special surprise for you all this evening!” The anticipation in the room built up in waves as she paused for effect. “You won’t believe what I’ve been up to. If you haven’t already heard, I recently met someone!” 

The crowd roared in excitement, whoops and claps echoing around the venue. 

“Shocking, right? You might have seen him around the office. Can we get a spotlight on him?” 

The beam of light swept through the crowd until it landed on Minghao, who looked around, momentarily startled. 

“Everyone, meet Minghao!” Y/n continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We actually met at the coffee shop below the office. I was drowning in my mid-week project when he approached my table and asked me out on a date. I’ll admit, I was pretty hesitant at first. But he worked his charm on me.” 

She smiled warmly, letting reminiscence wash over her. “We ended up going out a few times after that, but just a few nights ago, he let me in on a little secret—it was all a bet set up by these guys right here!” 

Y/n dramatically pointed behind her at a group of men clad in glittery outfits, their faces a mix of embarrassment and amusement as they realized they’d been called out. Laughter erupted once again, and Minghao could only shake his head, a smirk on his lips as the crowd carried on, fully entertained by the unfolding story.

The laughter from the crowd soared, and Y/n could see Minghao’s face shifting from amusement to slight embarrassment when a man behind him yelled up to the stage. “A bet? Seriously?” he called out.

“Yes. You heard that right.” Y/n responded, leaning into the microphone as she theatrically rolled her eyes, embracing the absurdity of it all. “Turns out, my romantic escapades were all part of some grand scheme these guys made up.” 

The men behind her chuckled sheepishly, with one of them, a tall guy with a dazzling smile, shouting playfully, “In our defense, we thought it was a great idea. Including Minghao.”

“Oh, it definitely was,” Y/n replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the great dates,you guys. I had no idea I was part of a reality show, I watch them enough you’d think I’d catch on.” She paused for comedic effect, letting the laughter settle before leaning closer to the audience, her tone more serious. “You know, honestly, Minghao surprised me in ways I never expected.”

She glanced over at Minghao, whose cheeks were slightly flushed under the spotlight but wore a sincere smile. “I was a bit hesitant at first, sure. But then we really connected. And who would have guessed that the guy who interrupted my focused day with a charming smile would become someone so special?”

Cheers erupted from the crowd again, and Y/n took a deep breath, enticing them with what was coming next. 

“And, since we’re being honest here,” she continued, teasingly leaning into her role as the narrator of this unfolding tale, “I feel like we need to make Minghao work just a little for his redemption. No?” The audience murmured in excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve arranged a little surprise for him tonight,” Y/n said, gesturing to the side of the stage. “Minghao, my friend, you've got just one more challenge ahead of you.”

Out of nowhere, a karaoke microphone was handed to Minghao from his left side and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter again. Minghao held it awkwardly, glancing at Y/n with a mix of uncertainty and delight. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, genuinely confused but slightly intrigued. 

“You’re going to sing! Duh. Don’t be dumb,” Y/n declared, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “The audience deserves to see what they’re in for. Plus, it’s only fair after that little trick you pulled. You’re going to serenade us all.” 

Minghao let out a laugh, his initial shock transforming into acceptance. The crowd erupted once again, chanting, “Minghao! Minghao!” 

Feeling the energy in the room, Minghao stepped forward, climbing up the stairs with a new light in his eyes. “Alright then, I guess I have no choice but to give the audience what they want!” He took a deep breath and gazed at Y/n one last time before launching into a fun, upbeat song that brought everyone to their feet.

As he sang, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a rush of  affection. Despite the insane circumstances that brought them together, there was something genuine unfolding between them, amplified by the shared laughter and excitement of the evening. 

With each note, Minghao seemed to shed any lingering nerves, pouring his heart out into the music. The audience was enthralled, dancing and singing along, swept up in the joy of the moment. Y/n found herself cheering louder than anyone else, her laughter mingling with his infectious energy.

And maybe, just maybe, she thought as she watched him shine on stage, this night was the perfect reminder that sometimes the best stories come from the unexpected. It wasn’t just about the twists and turns of their initial meeting; it was about the connections forged when they embraced things together. As Minghao finished with a flourish, the crowd erupted into applause, and Y/n couldn't help but wonder how many more surprises awaited them on this journey.

Day 9 - A Change of Heart

Determined to make a last-ditch effort to win her back, Minghao doubled down on his resolve. He sent her a series of texts brimming with encouragement, recounting the fun they’d had the night before. “I never imagined I’d be up on stage like that, but it was totally worth it,” he wrote, his fingers flying across the screen. “You have this incredible way of bringing out the best and most ridiculous in people. I genuinely had a good time, especially seeing those fuckers in glitter pants.” 

He poured his heart into his messages, sharing how her laughter had ignited a spark within him, and how getting to know her was quickly becoming the highlight of his life. “You made me feel brave, even while I was totally making a fool of myself,” he typed with a grin, imagining her laughter echoing in his ears. “And honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing about it. You’re amazing, Y/n.”

As the hours passed without a response, doubts started to creep into his mind. Had he gone too far with the whole bet thing? Would she take his lighthearted texts as desperation? But he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing there was something real between them.. So, he gathered his courage and decided to call. 

When Y/n picked up the phone, her voice sounded bright but cautious. “Hey, Minghao. What’s up?”

“Y/n, Hi I don’t know if you saw my texts, you’re probably busy, but I just wanted to check in after last night,” he replied, his heart racing. “I hope you’re still not too mad at me for the bet thing. I promise I didn’t mean for it to be a setup. I actually really enjoyed being with you."

There was a momentary silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her response. “I’m not mad,” she finally said, her tone softening. “I thought it was an interesting twist, honestly. You had me laughing for hours after I got over it a little bit and after talking to your friends. But I just… didn’t want to feel like I was part of some game.”

“I totally understand,” he said quickly, wanting to assure her. “I’m really sorry for how it started. But I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. I liked who I was with you last night and every night really , and I want to get to know you better—like, for real, not as a bet.” 

Y/n paused again, and he could almost hear her contemplating his words. “You mean that?” 

“Absolutely,” Minghao responded, feeling more confident. “I know we started under unusual circumstances, but every moment I’ve spent with you has felt real. You bring out a side of me I didn’t really know I had, and I really love who I am when I’m with you. So, what do you say? Can we start over?” 

He could hear her take a deep breath from the other end, and his heart raced in anticipation. “Okay, let’s do that,” she finally said, her voice brightening. “But let’s be clear the only bets this time will be on actual games, not people's feelings”

Minghao laughed, relief washing over him. “Deal. Just me trying to impress you from now on.” 

“You already have, that was your promise from the start and you followed through.”

As they chatted and made plans for their next outing—a casual coffee date, just like they first met no strings attached—Minghao felt a renewed sense of hope. He was determined to show her that he was sincere, that the bet was just a silly beginning to what he hoped would be a beautiful journey together.

After they hung up, Minghao couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t just about winning her back; it was about starting anew, embracing the possibility of a real thing. And as excitement bubbled in his chest, he began to plan how he could make their next date unforgettable. After all, if Y/n could turn a wild bet into a night filled with laughter, he was ready to dive in and see where this newfound adventure would take them both.

Day 10 - The Second First Date.

As the days crept closer to their date, Minghao found himself overrun with excitement and nerves. He wanted everything to be perfect. Standing in front of his closet, he debated over his wardrobe, tossing shirts onto the bed haphazardly. He could feel the pressure mounting the stakes felt higher this time—not just because he was going to see Y/n again, but because he wanted her to see him as more than just that guy than a guy who bet on her feelings.

Eventually, he settled on a casual but stylish outfit, one that he felt confident in. Being genuine was the goal, after all, and he didn’t want to put on a facade. Just before he headed out the door, he glanced in the mirror, giving himself a final pep talk. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

At the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the chatter of customers. Minghao arrived early, pacing a bit with anticipation. He chose the same cozy corner table her first noticed her at, where they’d have some privacy but still be part of the lively atmosphere. 

When Y/n walked in, his heart skipped a beat. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair cascading over her shoulders and a warm smile lighting up her face. She spotted him, her eyes sparkling with familiarity, and his nervousness began to fade away as she approached.

“Hi, nice to meet you, you’re Minghao right?” she greeted, her voice filled with warmth.

“Hey, yeah. I’m glad you made it,” Minghao replied, standing to greet her. They exchanged a brief hug, and it felt surprisingly comfortable.

As they settled into their seats with steaming cups of coffee in hand, the conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d never left off. They chatted about everything their favorite shows, upcoming plans, and the ridiculous things they’d seen online lately. Laughter punctuated their discussion, the kind that made the world around them feel distant.

At one point, Y/n playfully leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, tell me—what’s your strategy for impressing me today? More dance moves? Karaoke?”

Minghao laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Let’s save the dancing for another time. I’m still trying to recover from the last performance,” he said with a smirk. “But I promise I have a few tricks up my sleeve—nothing too embarrassing.”

“Just promise me no more betting, I’m out of chips for now.” she said, stern but unable to hide her smile.

“Cross my heart,” he promised dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “From here on out, it’s just me and you having honest and genuine fun.”

Their coffees had transformed into connection, a beautiful blend of camaraderie and flirtation. As they moved towards dessert, Minghao felt a spark growing between them. 

With a playful glint in his eye, he decided to take a leap. “So, if we’re doing this—like, seeing where it goes, how about I take you on a mini-adventure next time? Something a little less…traditional?” 

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “And what exactly does that entail? You are not talking about hiking, or something like that right? I would kill you.” 

“A  little scavenger hunt around the city?” he suggested, warming to the idea. “We could visit all the spots we love, and maybe even some new places. Get ice cream, take pictures, and just enjoy the day.”

Her face lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing. I love it.”

Seeing her excitement filled him with joy; this felt right. With their coffee date unfolding so smoothly, he was beginning to understand that this was not just about rekindling a spark but about building something new. 

As they wrapped up, Minghao walked her to her car, and the atmosphere felt electric. Before saying goodbye, he couldn’t resist leaning in slightly. “If I promise to make each outing better than the last, will you promise to keep coming back?”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I think I can manage that, if you also kiss me” she replied, her smile brightening the evening.

With a renewed sense of hope, Minghao pulled her in from her waist kissing her multiple times before backing up slightly and letting her get into the driver's seat, she rolled down the window and wagged her finger at him for one more kiss, and then he  watched her drive away, heart brimming with anticipation. He was ready to dive into this adventure, ready to explore whatever lay ahead with Y/n by his side. Their story was only just beginning, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like everything was falling into place. 

Epilogue

The days that followed were an exciting blur of planning and anticipation. Minghao found himself digging into his old notebooks, jotting down ideas for the scavenger hunt, trying to think of all the little things that made their city special. He wanted to weave in personal touches that would make the day unforgettable for Y/n—places that could bring back memories of their first date or spots he knew would make her full of  joy when he revealed them.

With each idea, he found he was not just planning an outing but also crafting an experience centered around her, and this realization filled him with a sense of purpose. He’d always believed that little moments could mean everything, and now he was eager to show Y/n just how much he cherished their new relationship.

When the day of the scavenger hunt arrived, Minghao woke up with a mix of nerves and excitement. He’d set everything in motion, and now all he needed to do was let the day unfold naturally. He picked a comfortable outfit—something relaxed but still appealing—and made his way to the meeting spot they had agreed on: a park that was alive with the sounds of laughter, children playing, and the distant strumming of a guitarist.

As he waited, he felt a buzz of anticipation in the air around him. The moment he spotted Y/n walking towards him, his heart soared. She looked radiant, her hair dancing in the breeze, and her smile lit up the entire park. 

“Hey, you.” she greeted, a lilt in her voice that made him grin wider.

“Ready for a little adventure?” he asked, trying to mask the excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

“Absolutely. Just tell me what we’re doing,” she replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“First off, we have to get our scavenger hunt gear,” he said, pulling out a small tote bag he had packed. Inside were colored pencils,a camera for taking photos at each stop, a notebook for jotting down clues, and a list of locations they'd be visiting.

“What’s all this?” she laughed, peering inside with delight.

“Just some supplies to help us document our adventure” Minghao said cheerily. “The first stop is that little coffee stand we found last week, where they have the pastries.”

With a shared laugh and playful banter, they made their way through the park, stopping for pictures at every significant spot—an old oak tree where they took selfies, a fountain that they threw pennies in while making a wish, and a mural that had caught Minghao’s eye during their last outing. The connection between them deepened as they shared stories, memories, and more feelings than ever. As they reached the coffee stand, Minghao took a moment to watch her as she chose her pastry. She had a way of illuminating the boring everyday things, and he felt grateful every time she shot him a smile. After they got their treats, he pulled out the next clue.

“Okay, next up,” he said with excitement, glancing down at the list he had created. “We have to find the spot where they sell the best ice cream in town. But there’s a catch—you have to lead the way.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Me? Alright.. This should be interesting.”

With her leading the way, they began to navigate the streets, stopping to chat with street performers and peeking into quirky shops. As they reached the ice cream parlor, the enticing scent of waffle cones met them, and they quickly placed their orders. 

“That is definitely a win,” Minghao said, savoring the first bite of his matcha chocolate chip. He looked over to see Y/n’s eyes light up with delight as she tasted her basic but cute vanilla with sprinkles.

As they sat outside, sharing stories about their favorite childhood flavors, Minghao felt a warmth spreading in his chest. Each moment they shared layered on a sense of intimacy, deepening their bond.

The rest of the day continued in this delightful fashion, each stop on the scavenger hunt bringing them closer together, transforming their connection into something rooted in genuine affection. The final clue led them to an overlook, a perfect sunset view of the city sprawled out before them.

As they stood side by side, overlooking the vibrant hues of orange and pink washed across the sky, Minghao turned to her, feeling the weight of the moment. 

“I’m really glad I took this leap,” he said, his voice sincere. “Today has been incredible. You make everything better, including me.”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I feel the same way. This day has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Really, thank you.”

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, he could feel the pull toward her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle yet tender kiss. It was a clear promise of what was to come—not just in this moment, but in all the moments yet to unfold.

Standing there, as the last light of day faded into twilight, Minghao felt a newfound certainty settle within him. This was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure with Y/n, and he was ready to explore every twist and turn that life had to offer together.

Minghao had set out to lose a girl in ten days but instead found something he never expected: a genuine connection. As he and y/n embarked on their new adventure as one and they both realized that sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it, and sometimes, the risks of opening your heart are worth every moment.

[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?

[leqonsluv3r]

picnic date with Leon 🥺

love

re2!leon kennedy x f!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: so much fluff it’s kinda gross, a little touching, mentions of sex, reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, leon is the best boyfriend ever and we love him for that, no physical description of reader except that she has hair, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc.) based heavily on love by lana del rey (leon is lana coded bc i say so).

“she didn’t know what else to expect to her already worse work week, besides the papers that always seemed to pile up on her desk and swarm her like a colony of hungry bees. she hated her job, wanted to slap her boss and her co-workers. so how could this week get any worse? she thinks it will when her phone buzzes with a text from leon, only to find out if she wants to go on a picnic date this weekend. suddenly, her week just got better by a thousand percent.”

— or reader is having a terrible week and leon decides to spoil his favorite girl

an: thank you for the request, i loved writing something that wasn’t pure smut for once. did include a little seggsy tho (i can’t resist). gave my overworked brain a little vacation lol. i took your idea and ran with it, hope you enjoy <3

masterlist taglist

she actually hated her boss. hated him.

aside from spilling coffee on herself this morning before she left for the office, she had a thousand reports on her desks and emails flooding her work inbox. her boss went on a rant about her work performance and the fact that he was almost using his superiority as a manager to make her feel belittled was enough to send her blood pumping through her veins.

but mindlessly, she tried to get through her day. taking deep breaths and trying not to freak out on her boss. only did her day get worse when she overheard gossip in the break room.

“i hear she’s like some prude. her boyfriend only touches her when he’s drunk.”

she listens in on the gossip, pouring herself some coffee that hopefully won’t make its way onto her pencil skirt again. she wondered who they could possibly be talking about so openly in the middle of the day in the break room.

the other voice goes on, one of her coworkers that she knew from working here so many years, “that’s not true. i know her personally. she told me she’s waiting for marriage.”

her ears perk up at this, all the blood draining from her face, she knew they were talking about her now. her worst fears have been confirmed. she should’ve never stupidly trusted someone she worked with to keep such information about her relationship with leon, private.

she felt so stupid. but they kept going and she kept listening. the other women who she didn’t know opened her mouth again, “still, how much of a prude do you have to be to wait until marriage? like just fuck and get it over with already. unless he’s ugly…”

she feels anger rise in her like tsunami. leon? ugly? he could never be ugly. he was so fucking beautiful. how could this random woman even say that about her and her relationship without even knowing her? she kept her back turned and waited for the coworker she was more familiar with to say something.

“he’s actually quite a looker. shame she got her hands on him, if i had a man like that. i would fuck him until he couldn’t see straight.” she fisted her porcelain coffee cup with white knuckles, almost fuming and waiting for steam to pour out of her ears. jesus, she wanted to smack this woman silly, she considered them friends and now she was just so openly bragging to another woman of the company…that she wanted to fuck her boyfriend of two years.

she fumed and briskly left the break room with her coffee, slamming the door to the room shut behind her as she briskly walked back to her office, trying to keep up a demeanor that was professional and meanwhile she was seething on the inside.

she finally reached her office and went inside, slamming the door as she rounded her desk and sat her cup of coffee down on it. she leaned her elbows on her desk, burying her hands into her hands.

she wanted to cry, this week had been terrible and today was one of the worst out of all of them. and she needed to manage to get through it until after tomorrow.

thanking god it was thursday, one more day and she wouldn’t have to think of this place for a solid 48 hours. she took shaky breaths, trying to calm herself so she didn’t cry at her desk at work. she was still fuming from hearing that conversation in the break room about her personal life.

eventually, her phone buzzed on her desk and she looked down at her phone. she sighs and shakes her head, praying it’s not another report or upset client. she can’t handle anymore of that today, or this week for that matter.

she grabs her phone and looks at the contact, it was leon, she sighs in relief and smiles as she opens the text thread, looking at the screen.

LEON <3 : hey baby, just wanted to check in on my break. hope your doing okay, know it’s been a rough one for u.

besides wanting to cry at my desk all morning. first my boss says my reports are useless and utter shit. then i hear two of my coworkers gossiping in the break room about me like it’s no big deal. i hate this place, this week has sucked :(

LEON <3 : whoa, what? oh my god. are you okay? i know that’s so stupid to ask considering everything u just told me but…god. i’m so sorry.

no, i’m humiliated. i feel like stabbing my eyes out with my pencils at my desk. i hate this place, i hate everyone. minus u ofc <3

but seriously, i can’t wait to get through tomorrow and just be done with this place. even if it’s for two days.

LEON <3 : hmmm, that reminds me. do you still plan on coming over on friday night?

uhhh, yeah. considering i haven’t seen you all week. unless your canceling on me. which just makes me wanna cry more :,)

LEON <3 : oh god no, fuck that. i would never cancel on you baby. i just have an idea. and i was wondering if you would like it, considering how stressful and overwhelming your week has been.

i’m listening….

LEON <3 : you still come over on friday night, you pack a change of clothes and we go for a picnic on saturday. i know a good spot. and plus, im a good cook.

you don’t have to…

LEON <3 : but i WANT too. i wanna make my girl happy after having such an awful week. you need this baby. don’t bother arguing with me >:)

fineeee i suppose i could pack an overnight bag, stay the whole weekend at your place. go on a little picnic and ACTUALLY enjoy myself for once.

LEON <3 : that’s the spirit my love :). don’t worry, i’ll take care of you this weekend. don’t stress and don’t worry. trust in your amazing boyfriend ;)

you are an amazing boyfriend. don’t let that boost your already enormous ego though lol. god, i miss you so much. i can’t wait to see you. :,)

LEON <3 : you only have a little less then 48 hours to go before you see my handsome face again. don’t worry your pretty head baby, i’ll make you forget all about this week. spoil the absolute shit out of you. <3

okay, i gotta get back to work before my boss comes in to belittle me some more about phone usage at work :,). i’ll see you soon babe, i love you.

LEON <3 : see you soon beautiful girl, i love you too. gotta go bust some criminals lol. ttyl :)

she sighs in content, a lovesick grin on her features. she felt so much better, just talking to him through text even. it was enough to make her heart swell with love and forget all about the incidents this week.

she couldn’t wait to see him on friday night, then go on a picnic on saturday like he promised. she needed him like air sometimes. and he had been pulling shifts so frequently at the station that she barely ever saw him.

it sucked, yes. but when they did get to see each other it was absolutely worth it. she knew that he was gonna stay true to his word like he always did. make her happy, spoil her and make her forget all about her sucky week at work.

she loved him so much, it was almost consuming sometimes. overwhelming to think that before she met him two years ago, she had never known love or that men like him could even exist.

god, she was praying for this weekend to come sooner. and hopefully, it would.

eventually she made it to friday, she managed to get through the day, working as hard as she could. she dealt with clients, dodged the lecturing of her boss and the gossiping of her coworkers.

she slipped out early, not really giving a fuck because all her work was finished as far as she was concerned. she had better places to be. like leon’s apartment for example.

she had packed an overnight bag that morning, watered her plants and made sure she had everything. she had kept her overnight bag stored in her car just so when she got off work, she could head straight over.

she sent him a text that she was off and she was heading over early, putting the car in reverse and leaving her works parking lot.

she drove down the familiar streets and roads until she made it to leon’s apartment, parking her car in the guest parking spot. she got out, grabbing her overnight bag and everything else she needed as she locked the car behind her.

she walked over to the gate to enter the complex, typing in the numbers and once it buzzed, she opened it and let herself in. she made her way up to the second floor, walking over to where his apartment was. she slipped her key to his apartment, unlocking the door and slipping off her shoes.

“baby? you home?” she calls out as she drops her overnight bag by her shoes, dropping her keys on the coffee table. she looks around, she feels a buzzing in her hand where her phone is. she looks at the text from leon saying he was on his way home from his shift.

she sighed and looked around his apartment, looking down at the coffee table where she sat her keys in front of his couch. she saw something sticking out from in between the pages of a book he was reading. “what the…?” she opened the book and looked in the book.

a piece of paper with scribbled writing over it, leon’s from what she recognized. she started to read the crumpled up piece of paper.

[READER],

ever since i’ve known you, i’ve loved you. i’ve never wanted anyone more then i’ve wanted you. i’m not just doing this in the hopes you’ll say yes, i’m doing this with the intention that you’ll let me love you for as long as we’re both alive.

i’m not doing it like this to be cliche, i know how much you think im corny. how hard i try to make sure you’re not laughing at me (even though i love your laugh more than anything.) i want you to know that i love you. i always have, i always will.

with that, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?

it would be my greatest achievement as man, as your boyfriend and future husband if you’ll let me.

she feels her eyes well up with subtle tears, wiping at her eyes as she looked down at the crumpled up notebook paper with a small smile, even though the letter didn’t say much, it said enough.

this was just more then a simple picnic, she knew now. why he was so keen on taking care of her this weekend. taking her out for a picnic tomorrow. she can’t believe he wanted to marry her, she wasn’t shocked but she was…she wanted to cry. it was almost like a dream come true.

she was about to re-read the note to make sure she wasn’t dreaming until she heard the lock on his front door click. she scrambled to put the crumpled up piece of paper back into the book where she found it, effectively slipping it in and standing up straight just in time as he entered the door.

“hey, honey.” he says with a small smile, kicking off his shoes. he wore his police uniform still, all pristine in pale blue and navy. she swallowed and wiped at her eyes, “hey.” she shuffles towards him and wraps her arms tightly around him.

he noticed the sniffling and the watery eyes, he craned his neck down to look at her face that was pressed into his chest, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture.

“are you okay? your eyes are red.” he says softly, his voice dripping with such concern it just almost made her heart melt in her chest. she nods and squeezes her arms tighter around him, “i’m okay. i just missed you.” she lies a little, she did miss him, but that wasn’t the true reason for the red eyes.

“okay, baby. it’s okay though, we’re gonna have a good weekend and your not even gonna think about work.” he says softly as he continues to rub her back up and down in a gentle gesture, smiling down at her with a soft grin. she nods, “okay, i’d like that.” she says with her cheek pressed against his chest, sniffling.

she knew she wouldn’t think about work, work was the furthest thing from her mind right now. the only thing on her mind was the picnic tomorrow and the note she had found.

she knew he was going to purpose, she wasn’t even trying to snoop, but now she knew. she loved him even more for it. if that was even possible.

the next day, the morning light would peak through the curtains of leon’s bedroom window. it casted both of them in a glow that was more then just a simple glow of the morning but a new day.

she loves waking up beside him, especially today when the promises of their future hang right over her head. a promise that he’s intending to keep.

she rolls over onto him as he lays on his back, giggling as she does. she presses a small kiss to his chest and then makes a path up to his collarbone, pressing a kiss to his neck. she felt herself growing more aroused by the minute.

she wasn’t a virgin, she had dated plenty of shitty guys before leon. and it isn’t like she didn’t not want to have sex with him, they just decided to wait until marriage. but now that she knew he was going to purpose today, she forgot all about that little promise she made with him.

she presses her lips to his jaw, hearing him mumble something sleepily as she grins against his skin. she leans towards his ear, “wake up.” she mumbles as she moves her hips to sit on his covered dick in his boxers beneath the sheets. her panty clad frame gently moving her hips lightly against his as she adjusts.

she feels him slightly move again, moving in his sleep so she moves her hips more firmly on him again, feeling him grow harder against the fabric that separated them. he mumbles something and she pulls her face out of his neck, bracing her palms flat on his chest.

he slowly opens his blue eyes to meet hers, his dirty blonde hair messily on the pillow. she smiles down at him with a small grin, “morning sleeping beauty.” she chuckles as she leans down to his face and presses a kiss to his lips.

his half-asleep frame is still waking up and trying to wrap his mind around everything. “what are you doing?” he chuckles with a lazy opening and closing of his blue eyes.

“what does it look like im doing?” she says with a small smirk, moving her hips again. he had no idea where this was coming from, they had agreed to wait until marriage and now…

she was straddling his waist, her wet core on top of his morning wood, there were the barriers between them but still, he could feel everything. she tilts her head innocently at him, his blue eyes looking up at her, “why are you so…? what’s gotten into you?” he says with a small furrow of his brows as he leans up on the bed, his elbows propped up behind him.

she bites her lip and looks at him, “why am i what?” she says as she bats her eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. he struggles and takes a shaky breath, “why are you like…all over me? like, we didn’t…i thought you wanted to wait.” he manages to get out with another shaky inhale.

she sighs and rubs her palms over his chest, “i want you, i’ve waited long enough. married or not, i want you.” she says with a small look, letting his blue eyes latch onto hers. she needed him to know she was serious, that this mattered.

she knew he was going to purpose soon anyways, so what was the big deal? that’s what she thought anyways. she didn’t see it as this huge thing, it would be their first time together. but…she was ready.

“unless…your not?” she says with a small sigh as she looks down at him, her palms pressed flat on his bare chest as she looked down at him. he shook his head so fast, his hair flopping as he did, “no, i want it.” he replies as he looks up into her eyes.

“anything that you want from me, i wanna be able to give it to you. even this.” she hears him say as his blue eyes never stray from his gaze on her. she smiles widely and sniffles, “god, i love you.” she whispers as she leans down and presses a kiss to his lips.

it starts slow, his hands holding onto her waist as the kiss grows more intense and passionate. her hips moving against his erection. she doesn’t fear it now, not when she knows what will happen.

not when she can trust him. she knows he’s different, he’s not like the others. she wants to give him all of her, every single part. she wants to give him marriage, her soul, her body. she wants him to have it all.

so as the kisses and the touches escalate, she feels herself trusting in him, letting his love consume her body and mind in a way she had never known before. his kisses were like rain, falling on her skin and soaking there. his touch was like fire, spreading over her body.

it was beautiful, she couldn’t wait to have him with her forever.

the picnic was beautiful.

leon, really knew how to make her forget about her shitty work week. whether it be a picnic, their first time having sex together earlier that morning, or the proposal that has yet to happen.

he really outdid himself. just like he promised, he had cooked and packed a lunch for them by a small pond in a park. it was about a 20 minute drive from his place, how she never knew it was there, she had no idea.

it was beautiful, some swans were in the pond swimming around with their babies, made her smile and think of how leon had made this so perfect without even trying. he spread out a blanket for them, sitting the food down in the picnic basket.

she brushes her hands over her purple sundress, looking at him as he sat down and began to spread out the food for them. “wow, baby. you really thought of everything didn’t you?” she chuckles as she sits down next to him on the picnic blanket.

“of course, anything for my girl.” he says with a sweet smile in her direction as he gets wine out of the basket and two glasses. my girl…jesus, if he’s trying to make me melt, it’s working. she thinks as she watches him uncork the wine bottle, and pour them both red wine into the glasses.

“i know, you spoil me, leon. but still…” she trails off as she looks over at him, she reaches over the blanket and grabs onto his hand. she watches as the subtle breeze blows his dirty blonde hair over his blue eyes and his forehead.

he rolls his eyes playfully and scoots closer to her on the blanket, squeezing her hand back. “don’t argue with me. it’s in your best interest.” he says with a small lopsided smirk as he hands her one of the glasses of wine. she accepts and smiles back at him, sipping on the wine in her free hand.

“fine. i won’t.” she says with a small roll of her eyes, grinning at him as she swallowed the wine. letting it slide down her throat. they stayed in silence for a while, just enjoying the sounds of nature, the breeze that blowed softly and made the leaves rustle in the trees above them.

she let him dote on her a little more, still feeling that anxious bubbling in her stomach that had been occurring since last night. the note, the proposal that had yet to happen. she felt her body get amped up and she was trying not to give her hopes up.

she sipped on her wine, looking over at him as he stared off into the pond a little ways in front of them. she admired him like this, when he wasn’t looking at her. he was deep in thought, in his head and she could almost see the gears turning in his mind.

“thank you, leon.” she says as she snaps out of her daze of staring at him. she didn’t think she could ever not want to stare, admire him like a piece of art in a museum. he lets his head turn her way, looking directly at her, a gentle smile on his boyish features.

“no need to thank me. i wanted to do something special for you.” he says as he reaches across the blanket and rubs his hand over her bare knee. she nods and swallows more nerves, “i don’t need to thank you, but im going to anyways.” she giggles.

he just shakes his head with a teasing grin on his face, he doesn’t mind this. sitting here with her and knowing where it’s going. he almost feels like this can’t be real, sitting here with her. the weather’s perfect and this day is even better.

they continue to just sit together on the picnic blanket, eating and sipping on their wine. they just talk and snuggle up next to each other on the blanket.

eventually the sun starts to set, painting the sky in a beautiful pink and red hue. it almost looks like a painting and she watches it with almost admiration. he knows this is the time, the ring in his pocket burning a hole through his jeans.

she keeps her gaze trained on the sky, not even noticing that he’s staring at her with admiration. he swallows his fears, his nerves and everything that could potentially stop him from doing this.

“your so beautiful, you know that?” he starts as he looks over her features. her gaze only temporarily looking over at him, a blush coating her cheeks. this isn’t how he had planned it, but he’s gonna do this differently.

“of course you know that, i tell you all the time how amazing, beautiful and sweet you are. even to people who don’t deserve your kindness.” he says as his blue eyes stay trained on her, she smiles and bites her lip in bashfulness.

she knows something is happening, but she lets it happen. she doesn’t care…not if it’s a promise to make her happy for the rest of their lives.

“your the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he continues as he looks at her, turning his body a little towards her on the picnic blanket. the ring feels like an anchor in his pocket, keeping him tethered to the moment here with her.

“and i don’t think i’ll ever find anyone better then you, that’s honesty. your the best that’s ever going to happen to me.” he says as he looks deep into her eyes, her eyes blinking back at him as she feels her heart start to pound in her ribcage.

“and i would be a fucking fool if i went on another two years and didn’t show you how much you mean to me.” he says as he fists the ring in his pocket. she feels her heart swell and her eyes water. the smile spreading on her face is the rare kind.

“what are you…?” she says with a small look of disbelief on her face, her smile widening and the crystal of her eyes staring back at him.

he smiles with a small blink of his blue eyes that are now crystallizing over as well, he pulls his palm out of his pocket, opening it up between them to brandish a engagement ring.

she blinks her tears away, raising a hand over her mouth, trying to somewhat hide her shock. “leon…” she looks between the ring in his palm and then his eyes. this was much better then what was written on that crumpled sheet of paper.

“i love you so fucking much, i would do anything for you, to you and with you. only if you’ll let me, forever. please marry me. let me love you forever, let me wake up to you every morning. it would be the greatest honor i could ever have.” he says as he gestures the ring in his outstretched palm.

he looks at her with hopeful and love filled eyes as he does this. she doesn’t even have words, she expected it. but not like this…

this was definitely better.

and he was the love of her life, she couldn’t say no to him, not in a million years. she couldn’t dream of turning him down. of declining his proposal because he’s her happiness. even from two years ago when they met to now…

her body and mind want him the same, love him the same. she knows it will never change. not when it comes to him and just everything he does for her.

“yes…” she says as she sniffles away tears, feeling the breeze in the park billow her hair. the swans swimming idly in the pond in front of them. the sun setting in a beautiful sunset that paints the sky. he blinks at her, he doesn’t think he heard her right for a second.

“did you say…?” she laughs and looks at him, “i said yes. i’ll marry you.” she says as she feels more tears leak down her flushed cheeks. he smiles widely and grabs her hand shakily, his face coated in tears of happiness too.

he slips the ring onto her ring finger and strokes his thumb over her knuckles. he slides his free hand up to cup her jaw, rubbing the tears that slid from her eyes. “oh god, i love you.” he says in a trance as he looks at her.

“i love you too.” she says back to him, catching him in his trance of looking at her. she feels the ring on her ring finger, making its home there. she feels like she’s on cloud nine right now. he pulls her face towards him and presses a kiss to her lips.

she returns it and kisses him back, her hand, now ring clad, holds onto his face as she deepens the kiss. she doesn’t think she could ever be happier then she was right now.

in this moment with him. not a thing matters and her mind and body are full of him. she feels so consumed by him and his love that she can’t even explain it.

she’ll be wrapped in him forever and she can’t bring herself to care if she is. because at least she’s happy, happy and in love.

forever.

leons letter:

taglist: @heartsforvin

(go to this post to join the taglist, pls reblog and follow for more, my asks are open in my bio. i love you all <3)

[cosmoeticss]

Haven’t I Loved You Well? | Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (part two)

my masterlist

Words: 2.8K 

Warnings: (18+ minors dni) angst, mentions of death, violence, marital problems

Notes: I’m so manic rn I can’t even decide if I like how the end of this turned out. I want to wrap this up but I don’t think I know how to continue this without making it a full fledged fic, and I don’t have the mental capacity to do another one of those right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this. I love you guys. Also I’m sorry there’s no seggsiness, mom and dad are fighting, their grandpa/father just died.

Part Two of Haven’t I Been Good to You?

You stirred awake in the early hours to find the bed next to you empty and the faint sound of toddlers playing. Your hand smoothed over Aemond's side of the bed, your fingertips meeting cold and empty sheets. Your husband had been gone long before you had awakened. A deep sigh erupted in your lungs as you stretched your limbs, uncovering yourself and rising from the bed. Bare feet hit the cool stone floors as you reached for your silk, Velaryon Blue robe, slipping it over your thin white night shift and finding your woolen slippers under the bed.

A bright smile split your lips at the sound of your son's laughter in the adjoining chambers. You practically skipped to the sitting area, pulling the doors open to find the two silver haired boys playing with your handmaiden. When they finally spotted you, they jumped up with glee, running to tackle you.

"Mama!" Your youngest son, named Laenor after your father, had jumped into your embrace and twisted his arms around your neck. Aemon, your eldest boy, hugged your knees tightly.

"Good morning, sweet boys," you beamed, bending to place a soft kiss on little Aemon’s hairline. "How long have you been up? You should have woken me earlier."

"They've only just stirred, Princess." Brynna, your chambermaid, assured you softly. "I thought you could use rest in your condition."

"Mama," Aemon grabbed your hand in excitement. "We're playing Conqueror again! Come play with us."

You smiled sadly at his request. "I'm afraid it shall have to wait, my love," you squeezed the boy's fingers in comfort. "Your father and I have a council meeting this morning, and I must dress."

"Princess, I’ve been asked to deliver the message that all your engagements have been canceled for the day,” Brynna interrupted. “The Queen has asked that everyone stay in their chambers.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Well, where is my husband then?”

“I was told to inform you that the Prince has urgent matters to attend to and will return when he has finished.”

Something static is evident in the air, raising suspicion deep in your bones. You cling to any ounce of calm you have in you, as not to distress the children, breathing slowly. A forced smile reaches your lips, and you hope your sweet sons are none the wiser as you address them. “Why don’t you boys keep playing with Brynna, and Mama will join you after I’m done talking to Ser Arryk, alright?”

The boys do as they’re told happily, and you make your way to the door of your chambers, attempting to open it to no avail. Panic shoots through you as you pull at it again, bringing your shaky knuckles to wrap against the hard wooden door. “Ser Arryk?” you call out, and you’re met with a moment of silence before the whirring of the lock before the door cracks open.

It’s not the familiar face of Ser Arryk Cargyll you’re met with, but a man a bit shorter and stockier, with dark black hair and hard features. “Princess,” He bows his head to you. “The Queen has requested that everyone remain in their chambers until further notice.” “So I’ve been told,” you affirm, confusion written all over your face. “Who are you? Where is Ser Arryk?”

“I am Ser Gyles Belgrave, your highness,” he says stiffly. “Ser Arryk had very urgent matters to attend to, I have been tasked with guarding your apartments in his stead.”

Your hold in the groan of annoyance that threatens to unleash itself. “Well, everyone just has very urgent matters to attend to today, haven’t they?

“It appears so, Princess,” his tone is flat and unwavering as he addresses you. 

“Forgive my unusual lack of patience on this morn’, Ser Gyles,” you sigh, closing your eyes as you briefly regain any semblance of composure you can manage. “Might you take me to see the Queen to find out what in the Seven Hells is going on, or at the very least to my husband.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, Princess.”

You furrow your brow. “Yes, you can. I’m a Princess of the Realm in direct line for the Iron Throne, and I have – very politely might I add – asked you to escort me to Queen Alicent at once.”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he urges. “It is a direct order from the Queen that you stay here.”

You huff out in frustration, your fingers tightening on the handle of the door until your knuckles turn white. “Thank you, Ser Gyles,” you force the corners of your lips to curl into a synthetic smile. “You’ve been ever so helpful.” And with that you slam the door shut, pressing your forehead to the wood and breathing deeply to calm your nerves and trying to quiet your own nagging voice hissing in the back of your mind.

It’s happening. 

The King was in good spirits yesterday. He addressed the courts just last night, and was conscious and present all throughout dinner. He is fine. We have time.

Time is up.

Your mother and the Queen had reconciled their differences, toasted in each other's honor, embraced before the night had ended. Everything would be fine.

There will be no reconciling. Spool of green, spool of black. The cuts run too deep, the wounds have festered. 

Where is Aemond?

Not even your love can save the noble House of the Dragon now.

“Mama!” you snap out of your panic at the sound of your son's beckoning, your chest heaving in time with your labored breath.

“Coming, my loves,” you call, swallowing the feeling of dread whirring deep in your chest, and putting on a brave façade as you face your sons.

It feels, for a moment, as if time freezes when your husband finally returns to your marital chambers that evening, his good eye heavy with empathy and guilt. You shoot up in your chair, the boys both looking up from playing with their model dragon figurines on the floor to their father. He doesn’t have to say a word. The truth you’ve been denying yourself since they locked you away is written clearly on his face.

“Kepa!” The boys cry out as they run to jump into his arms, their father’s entrance being the most exciting event of the day.

“My little princes,” he laughs, embracing them, the wear of the day's trials is hidden just underneath the surface of his smile. You wonder to yourself how many lives Aemond has lived today, what he had seen, what he had done.

Slouching back in your chair, you slide a hand over the swell of your stomach, the other coming to pinch the bridge of your nose. 

Aemond tends to the children, answering their miles of questions and listening to their detailed accounts of make believe lands they’ve visited and play pretend battles they’ve fought during the day since they’d been confined inside. Aemond takes the explosion of excitement from your boys steadily, with a kind of patience he didn’t have for many others. The boys adore him. You adore him more than anything, and here you sat picking apart your husbands every move, trying to determine whether he was friend or foe.

The hour is late when Aemond finally gets the boys settled. You had not spoken a word to him, not touched him since he came back. You didn’t join in as he read the boys a bedtime story. You didn’t assist him as he carried their sleeping figures to their beds one by one. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the lounge chair since. You weren’t even sure you were real until Aemond was kneeling before you, his large hands engulfing yours as he pressed delicate, apologetic kisses to your palms, not yet daring to find the courage to meet your gaze.

You hold back the tears pricking at your eyes, swallowing the bile rising in the back of your throat. “Tell me the truth of it, Aemond,” you manage, your voice pained and hushed.

He finally meets your hollow stare. “My love, please—“ his voice is soft and desperate as his lips work their way to the skin of your wrists. 

“—I just need to hear you say it,” you press, words wobbling from the threat of your unshed tears. “Tell me what news of the King.”

He clasps your hands tightly in his, clinging to them like a prayer as he hangs his head low before you. “The King is dead,” he rasps the words, silence filling the room in their stead. A strangled, guttural gasp forces its way through your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as hot tears finally fall freely. In truth you hadn’t expected to be so shocked when news came of the King’s passing. Despite his faults, you loved your grandsire deeply, and though this day had long been lingering just out of sight, you never expected it to happen so suddenly. This felt wrong.

“Say it,” you snap, trying desperately not to fall apart before him. He didn’t have to speak it, you knew in your heart what was coming next.

“My father declared to mother on his deathbed, that it is Aegon who will inherit–”

You scramble to twist out of his grasp before he can even finish his sentence, but he clings to you, holding you in place and forcing you to look at him. “No–”

“-- Aegon will be crowned before the masses tomorrow morning.”

You try your best to wriggle from his torturous warmth, grunting and hitting his chest as you attempt to push him away from you with all your might. “How can you let them do this?” you wail. “You’re liars! Traitors to the Crown!” “My love, please,” Aemond begs as you cry out. “You must understand–”

“--I must understand?” She barks a humorless laugh, silver hair clinging to her tear stained cheeks. “What is it that I am to understand? That you are no better than the rest of them? A liar? A traitor to our house and the realm? This is treason! Don’t you understand the gravity of this?”

“It was the will of the King,” he proclaimed, as you gave up your fighting out of pure exhaustion. “With his dying breath, this is the succession he wished for. We have no choice in the matter.”

“You expect me to believe that after twenty years of upholding and defending my mothers claim, the King relinquished the throne to your drunken, depraved, imbecile brother moments before his death with no one around to hear but your power hungry mother?” you snipe, face hardened with distaste. “I at least thought you to be a sensible man, husband.”

Aemond catches you off guard when he captures your jaw in his hand forcefully. “You will watch your tongue, wife,”  he snarls. 

You had seen that familiar glint of anger in Aemond’s eyes many a time, you were no stranger to his fire. He was a man with a quick temper, it often didn’t take much for him to unleash the fury of the dragon. You just never thought in all your years he’d direct it towards you. 

You attempt a disinterested laugh, but it comes out as more of a whimper, your eye’s glistening as they fan over his features in disbelief. “Is this what we are to become?” you whisper pitifully. “Is it true what they say, that I am wife to a cruel man? A man who has now fashioned himself a traitor. Perhaps I do not know you at all.”

His eyes flutter shut with shame, his stinging grip softening as he drops his forehead to meet yours, pulling you closer until you're practically on his lap. You don’t fight him this time, exerting your strength proving to be fruitless. “You are married to a man who loves you. A man who has been fighting all his life to protect you. You know me, you are the only person alive who truly knows me, and I love you with everything that I can give,” he tries, squeezing his eye shut tightly as he forces his next words out. “But I have a duty to my family–”

“I am your family,” you plead, taking his face in your hands. “Our sons are your family. That is your duty. What do you think they will do to us when war ensues?”

“I will keep you safe,” he promises, pulling back to hold your gaze. His expression is desperate, for what you don’t know. Forgiveness? Submission? Blind Devotion? In your fury you could not muster any of it. “Anyone who dare harm you or our children is a fool.”

“You are the fool for thinking that you could protect us from what is to come,” you interject, pressing your lips together. “No one wins this war, and there will be war, Aemond. “Everyone knows what I am,” you don’t say the word itself, but you can see he understands. Its venom is hissed towards you at every turn you take. Aemond holds his tongue as you brush his hair back over his shoulders, smoothing down the disheveled strands as you choke out the words, trying despairingly to get through to him. “It is another doing that is not my own, one that I have suffered for everyday of my life. If this is where your loyalties will lie, husband, it is another price that I must pay.”

“That is where your loyalties lie? You would crown the woman who placed that cloak of shame upon you,” he reasons.

“As opposed to staying with the man who is practically handing his wife and children to the executioner himself?”

He whispers your name, only your name, softly and stoically like a prayer, and you continue your pleading. His face is held in between your hands, your lips peppering persuading kisses across his velvet skin.

“Please,” you echo over and over. “Don’t do this. You promised.” 

Aemond seems to snap out of your trance quite suddenly, pulling himself far enough away so that your prodding halts. His gaze lifts to yours, slower and more certain than before. Your heart clenches in your chest as he takes your wrists in his hands, pulling them away from his jaw.

Aemond’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “The decision is final,” he clears his throat, rising from the floor and leaving you behind on the cold stone below. “I will tell the boys, or at least Aemon, he is old enough to understand.”

Your hands fall to your lap as you sink further to the floor in defeat. “He is six,” you grumble.

“He will be a man grown sooner than late,” his voice is distant and nearly unrecognizable. “He is old enough to stand by our side in the Dragon Pit tomorrow in support of his uncle, and he will, as well as his mother.” 

“I will never bend the knee to that man,” you hiss, hot tears caking your rosy cheeks. “I will not stand by as he is crowned.”

“You will come freely or there will be consequences,” Aemond commands. “Not only for us, for the children.”

“Let them see the consequences,” you stand, legs wobbling as you force yourself upright. “Let them see how quickly their father folded before a usurper, let them understand how thinly his loyalty runs. Then they shall know who to blame when the sky falls down upon us.” 

Before your husband can interject, you push past him, fleeing to your shared chambers and slamming the heavy door behind you as hard as you could. The sound of it echoes heavily through the room, you can feel it in your bones and it rattles your soul. You spin on your heel, gaze softening as you eye the wall between you and the man you love – the wall you’ve just put there. You stifle a cry, it feels final, it feels like the entire Keep is crumbling from beneath you. 

Your mind and your senses are at war as you approach the door slowly, trying with everything in you to push down the desire to be held by him, to forgive him, to do anything he desires just so that you might be together. 

Your loyalty is stronger than your yearning to be his and his alone. Your palms, aching for contact, find their solace against the surface of the door. It’s cold, harsh, and stiff, but if you close your eyes and concentrate you can pretend it's his soft, burning skin pulsating under the tips of your fingers. If you focus on nothing else you can remember what it feels like to be enveloped in his arms, you can almost smell the smoke on him, almost hear his voice lulling you to sleep, almost taste his perfect lips against yours. 

In your anguish, you can’t fathom that his heart is aching on the other side as well, and you don’t feel his palms pressed against the other side of the door begging to be let back in.

[ask-irisstar]

A fluffy story where reader and Sanji just have an off day, and during that off day they decide to bath together. No seggsy stuffies just warm calm bath story. Where they hold each others embrace and grow a deeper connection.

Bubble Bath

A/N: AAHHHH SO MANY SANJI ASKS!!!! *breathes* Okay, I'm calm, hope you guys enjoy this! Special thanks to @pink-haired-anime-men for helping me write this!

Notes: Sanji x GN reader, Fluff, SFW, Sanji and reader bathe together

A day off for Sanji is rare. Especially since he cooks 24/7 for his hungry captain and crew and fight off Luffy who tries to steal from the fridge. Currently, everyone is exploring the island. Franky, Sanji and you are left on the ship. You were sunbathing on deck while Franky is working on the Sunny's repairs. Sanji bursts out the kitchen, carrying a tray of an array of sweet treats for you to choose from.

"Something sweet, for someone sweet?" He offers, holding out the tray towards you.

You smile up at him. Instead of taking the sweet treat you reached for Sanji's blonde hair and ruffled it, making it messy as if he just woke up with bad bed hair.

"Haha, look at your cute hair!" You giggled as he blushed. He turned away to hide his embarrassed face as you took a cupcake off the tray on Sanji's hand.

"You know me so well.." You said with a gentle tone as you took a bite of the cupcake. You didn't admit it, but you did miss him. It's been so long since you've hung out with him. You missed his warmth, his amazing cuddles and his soft hands refined by all the cooking he's done.

"I miss you babe, its been so long since we hung out properly...." He said as if he was reading your mind.

You blushed as you both reminisced about the times you had together. It's true. It's been awhile since you guys hung out. Even if guys did, someone will always interrupt. Like Luffy begging for food or Zoro asking for more sake. As you took a bite out of the cupcake, you noticed flour is all over Sanji. The sight was comical and also... Cute.

"Sanji, you have flour in your hair..." You say, brushing his hair again.

"Ah... I knew that... I'm taking a bath later anyway..." He says, smoothing down his messy hair.

Suddenly, an idea popped in your brain.

"Hey Sanji... Wanna bathe together?" You ask him, wagging your eyebrows.

Sanji eyes widened, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well mon amour, since you asked so nicely..."

______________________________________________________________

In the bathroom, Sanji has a towel wrapped around his waist as he fills the bath tub with warm water. You had your back facing him as you undress. It's been awhile since you saw each other naked, so it's a bit of an embarrassment. However, the moment you both settled into the bath, all the tension dispersed. You both settled into the bath and you lean against Sanji's only slightly but muscular frame. You felt the water enveloping your body, washing off all the dirt and grim of yourselves.

"This is nice..." You heard him say, feeling his body slowly sink deeper into the water.

You giggled and pushed him all the way down, soaking his hair. He screamed and pulled you down with him, causing you to giggle. When you both resurface, Sanji is glaring at you.

"Idiot, ne fais pas ça !" He yelled, brushing his bangs out of his face, revealing both his eyes.

Mesmerized by the beauty in his eyes, you stop giggling. Damn, were his blue eyes attractive.

"Sanji... Your eyes are so pretty..." You say, shifting on your boyfriend's lap to get a better look at his eyes.

Sani blushed, "Stop it, mon amour... You know how I feel about you staring..." He says, turning you back around to wash your hair.

The feeling of his fingers scratching your scalp soothingly as he applies the shampoo makes your eyes droop. You only snap back awake when Sanji shileded your eyes.

"Close them mon chéri..." He instructed as he poured some water over your eyes, washing off the soap.

You relax into his touch as he scrubs you clean. In return, you wash him the same way he did to you, paying close attention to his sensitive areas. When you both are clean, neither Sanji or you suggested on getting out of the bath. It feels too god damn cozy in the warm bath.

However, you both know you need to get out before the crew comes back. You dries yourselves off and Sanji even allowed you to wear on of his sweaters.

______________________________________________________________

And that's a wrap... Hope ya'll enjoy this... Current inox: 3 Sanji asks and 1 Luffy.... Please request more characters for me to write! I'm keeping up!!

[pokechbi]

Hi! i love your post so much🫶 i was wondering if you could make a head canon on how 141 and konig would comfort their plus size SO if they were feeling self-conscious?

only if you’re up to it!!

Keep writing..it’s so good:))

Hi Anon! TYSM for the ask <3 I love to hear that you enjoy my writing :') makes me feel all giddy hehe :)) This was such a good request, I actually would like to make it a bit longer! I've got so many ideas for this <3 LMK if you want me to add the rest of the team ;) I hope this one met your expectations :)

In Your Skin

TF141 & Konig comfort plus size (fem) reader

NSFW, MDNI !!! (yk i had to add some seggsy time, what can i say)

CW: Body image issues

Fem anatomy used

WC: 1.5K

As always, enjoy loves!

Simon Ghost Riley

Will start off gently comforting you, caressing your body and leaving kisses & hickies on every inch of you. He'll make you keep eye contact as he does this, squeezing and worshipping every single part of you. He'll also make you repeat after him, slurring out which parts of you he adores most and why.

"I love your plump little belly, wanna know why?" He'll say, sloppily kissing you up and down, landing on your underbelly, biting the sensitive flesh like it's his last meal. "Gotta have something to hold onto while I'm fuckin' 'ya, right love?"

"God, you know how I adore those thick fuckin' hips and ass of yours. How they jiggle against my cock while I pound that wet little cunt between your legs." He'll say, leaving bite marks all over your hips.

"My my, and look at those sweet, thick thighs. How can I not love 'em. How they wrap around my head as I lick your sweet pussy out. I'd die happily between those thighs."

And when he's finished making you repeat every single word, he'll fuck you so good that you forget your own name, as punishment for daring to insult what's his.

John Soap MacTavish

Soap is such a gentle lover. After all, he's just a big softie for you. When you talk bad about your weight, his heart can't help but break and send a jolt of pain through his core. He knew there wasn't much he can do besides show you just how goddamn beautiful you were.

"Oh, lass. That's not true. And if anyone has anything different to say, I'll disembowel them. How's that sound, love" His Scottish accent was enough to lift your spirits, taking you out of the funk that had been plaguing your mind about your body. He won't stop until you're smiling, even if he has to ruthlessly tickle you until you piss yourself.

He'll then carry you to the bed as if you weighed nothing, slowly undressing you and worshipping every inch of skin on your body. He'll make you keep your hands on him, slurring out things he adored about your curvy body. He could be rough when he wanted to, but when you were like this, he wanted nothing more than to handle you like a flower and nourish your spirits.

At times like this, he couldn't care less for pleasuring himself. Sure, your body made him want to empty his balls on every part of you, but he prioritized your pleasure when it came down to it. He knows you're too shy to ask, so he'll do any and everything he can think of that would make you feel good.

If you ever refuse his lovings, he'll keep pressing and do the things that make you weak in the knees until you accept. Your self consciousness never bypassed him, and he would never think to leave you alone when you were like this. He'll make you sit in front of him, naked, and force you to say everything you love about yourself and why. And God forbid you dare to refuse, he'll bend you over his knee and spank you until you do it.

"Good puppy. That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Captain John Price

Price has a zero-tolerance policy for you saying anything remotely self-deprecative. When you start to talk about hating your body, he'll stop it right in it's tracks and put you in your place. He was usually a laid back kind of man, but you were his. And God help anyone who disrespected what belonged to him.

Price would do whatever he could to make you feel confident again, and that included submitting to you completely. He'd order you the sexiest lingerie he could find, something dark, powerful. He wanted you to feel like the goddess you were, even if it meant letting you do what you pleased to him while he sat back and enjoyed it.

He'll set aside a night off from his duties to make his way to you, letting you tie him up while you did whatever it is that made you happy. He let you dominate him, edge him, wrapping himself around your finger as you embraced your femininity.

And once you were yourself again, completely confident in your body once more, he'll put you back in your place as his woman. He'll eat your pussy for nearly an hour, overstimulating you to the point of tears. He'll bend you over and fuck you afterwards, not giving you a chance to breathe as he pounds into your very core. And once he was done fucking you, he'll make you get on your knees and fuck your face until you were amounted to nothing but a slobbering, crying, cum drunk overstimulated mess under him.

And during your aftercare, he'll reassure you that you're his, and he'll never get it up for anyone else but you. He'll caress you, make you embrace every part of yourself. He'll touch you gently, making sure you knew that you were his very own goddess.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

The first time he had ever learned about your self-image issues, his jaw hung open in shock. This man had seen some things on the battlefield, but hearing you speak such untrue things about yourself took the cake. He spent some time thinking about how to approach the situation, not knowing how to handle you at such a fragile time.

So he did the only thing he knew would never fail him. He took you by the jaw, staring into your eyes as you cried out against his face.

"Kyle! You're hurting me!" You whine, the lie rolling off your tongue. You liked it, and he knew you did. You liked when he roughed you up, sending a familiar wetness to accumulate between your thighs. He'll push you around, your back up against the wall as he slipped his hand under your clothes. He breathed heavily as he lifted you up, grabbing at your body and molding your flesh to his hand.

"You hate your body so much you'll cry, huh? Apologize, or I'll fuck you so deep and so hard, you'll have something to cry about." He demanded. You nodded your head, slurring out apologies, your voice shaky with everything ranging from fear to arousal.

Once he felt that you were regretful about your words to yourself, he'll take a more gentler approach, whispering the things he loved about you and why. He could do this for hours, so he does. He'll lull you into a deep relaxation as he runs his hands all over your body, playfully pinching you and tickling you.

He'll start from the hairs on your head, and ending at the color of your cute, painted toes, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. You found yourself becoming more confident in yourself, slowly learning to love every part of you as much as he did.

Konig

There was no getting past Konig when you felt that familiar bubbling of body image issues in your head. You hinted at it slightly, trying to fish compliments from him. He instantly knew what you were doing, since he wasn't far behind you. He'd dealt with hating himself before, specifically his damning size. So he knew exactly what you meant when you were hinting at these things.

He'd waste no time in throwing you over his shoulder, spanking your ass as he carried you to whatever flat surface he could bend you over. You could say plenty things about yourself, but nothing struck a nerve in him more than when you spoke badly about your body, or weight. He knew what it was like to hate himself, to avoid mirrors and eye contact in hopes he could turn himself invisible to the world.

"I'm not going to sit back and listen to this, liebe" He says frustrated, running his hands along your body, kneeling in front of you and kissing your skin.

He'll do anything in his power to make you feel good again. And that included staying on his knees in front of you, begging you to love yourself again. When he did this, you couldn't help but tear up at the sight. The biggest man you'd ever seen, on his knees on the brink of tears because you called yourself bad names.

You'd caress his head in your arms, promising him to love yourself, to let go of those toxic thoughts that kept you from being your best self. And after he'd determine your words truthful and genuine, he'd stay on his knees, throwing your leg over his shoulder. He'll take his frustration out on your cunt, spitting and slapping and sucking all he can, making you cum and squirt and cry so many times, you forget why you were crying in the first place.

[stayinhellevator]

Shades Of Love

Where you thought love was red but it was golden

Pairing: S.Coups x gn!Reader//Wonwoo x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst//S2L, L2E

Word Count: 1922

Warning: Mentions of seggsy times(not explicit)

Playlist: Red and Daylight ~ Taylor Swift

"Order 895 is ready. Please collect it."

You could hear your own voice booming in the buzzed cafeteria followed which a sturdy familiar young man walked towards the counter, flashing you his infamous gummy dimpled smile.

"Thank you! Now that I've had the best coffee that there is, my day would be better."

You shook your head at his antics and prepared his receipt as you tried to hide the smile that threatened to come out in order to not encourage his tactics. He did this every single day, coming to the cafe you worked at without fail with his regular order of an americano and melon bread and asked you out, also without fail.

However, you weren't quite ready to date and certainly not this handsome overly rich guy. He was so damn charming that nobody could ignore him, no matter how hard they tried to resist him, to you he seemed like a god damn celebrity and you, were just you. A broke final year college student, with big dreams, struggling with multiple part time jobs but that's what happens when your parents couldn't care any less about your existence. You had somehow survived school under their control and now you were almost done with your college all on your own and you were very proud of yourself. You had so much on your plate that you couldn't really prioritise a relationship in your life much less the attention that'd come upon you, with a guy like him.

"So are you free tonight? Tomorrow? Overmorrow?"

But he was also good at breaking your resolve; especially when he looked at you with that adorable puppy face and an even cuter pout on those luscious lips of his. And just like that, after six months of resistance, you had cracked.

"Real smooth Seungcheol, real smooth. I've to give this to you."

And you watched as his eyes glowed with a playfulness and he smirked at you in victory but you couldn't find it in yourself to dismiss his smugness.

Loving Choi Seungcheol was red.

He made you see the world through rose tinted glasses; everything that was so plain and cynical previously, now seemed bright and meaningful. You had something to look forward to every single day you woke up.

You'd think as time gradually passed, you'd come out of the honeymoon phase of your relationship but no Seungcheol made you feel special everyday, as if he was still courting you. He'd flirt with you, compliment you, voice out any and even a slight change in your look.

Bringing you your favourite flowers everyday without fail, taking you out on cute little dates frequently, going on a walk with his adorable fur baby like a happy family every evening and going as far as to pose like a trophy CEO boyfriend who'd pick you up from college every single day. Life with him seemed something straight like a rom-com fiction that you'd enjoy as a guilty pleasure.

He was passionate, if his constant pining of six months wasnt proof enough. He knew what he wanted and how to get it, be it opportunities, things or people. He did everything with all his heart, felt all kinds of emotions to their extreme. If he loved you, he'd travel to the ends of the world for you and God forbid if he hated you, he'd make sure he dragged you to that end and buried you in the deepest pits of hell. That's how passionate Choi Seungcheol is.

Seungcheol was also synonymous to a fiery lust that you'd never even imagined would burn through you. His kisses looked as hot as they felt when he imprinted them on every curve of your body. No matter how many times he took you, it never felt enough to either of you.

Because Seungcheol's emotions were limitless, so was his anger. Such was his anger that you'd rather die than be at the receiving end of his hostility. You first witnessed it when he found you getting uncomfortable with the gossip around your relationship in your campus and you'd swore to never explore that side of his passion.

In theory, it looked hot to see your boyfriend with such a burning determination in his eyes, jaws clenched in fury and knuckles fisted as if ready to get bloody if needed however, his violent rage sent chills down your spine because he really had no control over his actions when he went down that road.

And unfortunately for you, your worst fears had actually come true when the two of you ended up in an argument in your bedroom when you were supposed to be celebrating your fifth anniversary.

"Cheol! How did we end up here? It's not like you hadn't known of my plans for the future?"

You asked exasperatedly trying to make sense of this conversation. You had always wanted to own a cute cafe of your own with a bookshop above it and Cheol had always known about it. So how had he come from admiring your dreams to going against them?

"Because I thought you might change your plans baby. Today when mom asked me about our plans for future I realised we had never even discussed about our future. And now that I'm finally taking over the business I'd really like to settle down with you."

He tried to explain as best as he could but not enough to make sense to you. So was it his parents? You always knew they disapproved of your lifestyle and disinterest in fitting to theirs so did they say something to him?

"Cheol I never said that we can't get married. Of course I want to marry you and grow a family with you. However what I don't understand is, how does me wanting to establish a cafe of my own has anything to do with us getting married?"

You felt cornered the longer you watched his face that didn't soften even a bit with understanding and growing more determined every second.

"I'm more than capable enough to take care of you so what's the need to work?"

Your heart was pounding against your ribs so loud you swear you could hear it when you realised where this conversation was going. This wasn't your Cheol but Choi Seungcheol, the business man that his father was proud of.

"And you can still take care of me. I told you it's more about me fulfilling my dreams and not about survival or money anymore Cheol."

You could recognise the timidness in your wavering voice as you tried for the last time to save your relationship that was dangling by a single strand of thread.

"And how would it look that my wife is working in a cafe, even if you own it. People would think I don't provide well enough for you, there'd be too much gossip-"

He paused abruptly as he realised the look of growing horror on your face.

"So it's about your family's reputation and tabloids and not us anymore."

He shook his head desperately and scampered to his knees in front of you, trying to bring you back to him as you drifted away not just from him but even yourself.

"Baby please I didn't mean it that way."

He continued babbling but you couldn't hear him with the constant ringing in your ears.

You had always known it. So why did it still hurt?

Nearly three years later, as you stood outside your own cafe that you built with blood, sweat and tears literally, with pride all alone, Jeon Wonwoo came in your life with his warmth that thawed even the deepest corners of your heart, that seemed to be numb over the years of loneliness.

Wonwoo's compassion made everything seem easier than it actually was. Individually, you two were extremely reserved people who were neither interested in social interaction nor actively seeked it however together you two were like two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. You remembered when you first met Wonwoo and were immediately intimidated by his persona however by the end of the day, it felt like you two had known each other since forever. And soon enough, it was to no one's surprise, you two were in a relationship.

Wonwoo was equally wise as he was warm; he knew how to make someone feel welcome but he also knew who actually deserved to be welcomed. He wasn't just your life partner, who knew how to handle you but also your business partner who provided his insights to your now joint venture. He owned the bookstore above your cafeteria that you two now jointly run. He was in every sense your missing brain cell.

Everything was easy with Wonwoo, even your arguments. You both tend to avoid arguing but when you do, he made it a point that you two never go to bed without resolving it and truly, it reassured you because you never want to be lonely, especially now that you've found him.

Wonwoo was thoroughly loyal and caring. He knew what you wanted before you could even acknowledge your emotions. You cherished every part of your life with him. Be it passing each other meaningful or sometimes even suggestive looks amidst the crowd of your cafe or snuggling up with each other with hands absent mindedly wandering on each other's skin with your favourite books in front of you.

Wonwoo was luxurious and not just materialistically. Every kiss that you placed on him felt like you touched the finest silks and likewise every kiss that he placed on you was as intoxicating as an expensive wine. It was sinful, addicting and never enough.

As regal as he was, he was also powerful, capable of making someone question their entire existence with just one look. His domineering aura also extended to a protectiveness over, which weirdly made you feel assured and safe but never suffocated.

As fine of a man as he was, of course he had a bit of a superiority complex but it never oppressed you or scared you. As long as you both were respectful of each other's boundaries and limits, everything was okay and that was an established fact. Besides, if he were a little too perfect, you think you'd be a little paranoid around him. So you guess you can bear a bit of his narcissism that his handsome face and compassionate heart deserved.

"Baby!? What are you thinking?"

A deep baritone that you could swear you felt vibrate deep within you brought you out of your musings as you faced your fiance who had joined you on the couch with two steaming cups of coffee.

"Thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life."

He smiled at you before wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he settled comfortably beside you in a snuggle.

"Hmm lucky you are. What would you have done without me?"

You give him a poker face before hitting him on the chest which made him laugh and hug you a little tighter.

"I love you so much!"

You placed a peck on his lips before smiling at him as you settled his glasses back up his nose.

"I love you more Woo!"

If he is the end result of all your struggles in every universe, then you'd gladly do it all over again.

You once believed love would be burning red but it was a shimmering gold for you and there's nothing you'd change about it.

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©️stayinhellevator23: All Rights Reserved

[joonieskinks]

drabble: “regret” - pjm

reader x cheater!jimin ft. jungkook | basically just pure angst | 1.5k

warnings: swearing, cheating, implication of seggsy times, substance abuse

a/n: if you want your heart to hurt?? I guess then enjoy?? lol

“Oh, sure! That would be so helpful...” You trail off, trying to balance your workbag, your keys and your phone in your hands while opening the door to your house with Jimin. 

“What was that?” Jungkook, your best friend, asks through the phone. 

“I said that would be helpful, yes, an intervention. Thank you for letting me know.” You bring the phone back up to your mouth, trying to communicate more effectively. You manage to plonk all your stuff down on the kitchen table before you really start to become aware of your surroundings and something unique catches your attention. It’s glistening, shiny reflection just catches the sun from the window across the room, hitting your eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll get to planning then?” Jungkook wonders into the phone, but neglects to say anything after, awaiting for a response from you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook tries catching your attention, but you’re utterly distracted by the pair of shiny, pink heels that are tucked under the curtain near your front door. 

“Yeah? Uh, hold on. Something more is going on. I’ll call you back in a bit, okay? Bye...” You mumble before hanging up. You could apologize later for being so blunt, but this was far more important as of right now. Jungkook would understand. 

You didn’t recognize those shoes. Sure, you would have totally missed it if it weren't for the almost neon hot pink shoes sticking out from the flushed out curtain. Everything else seemed to be in place, besides Jimin’s shoes.. One by the door and one on the stairs- Oh please, no. Not again. Instantly your worst fears creep into your head. You don’t want them to, but you can help but harbour those doubts for good reason.

“Shhhh! Shit- I didn’t realize what time it is, you should go.” You hear a deep voice whisper-yelling upstairs. Jimin. You could recognize him anywhere. But what you didn’t recognize was the one that returned it. 

“Jiminie!! You said we could have one more go!” The feminine voice playfully yelled, followed by more of Jimin shushing and then silence. 

Your body felt frozen in place and you briefly shut your eyes. 

No, please not again.

This was his one chance to redeem himself from the last time this happened. Yes, albeit it was just a kiss at a party a couple months ago. While he was drunk of course - but no excuse. You managed to take him to couple’s therapy and you felt comfortable to say you two were figuring it out. However, this time - you were very, very wrong. 

He had cried, begged and proved himself to be trustworthy again, he had desired your trust back so very much, or at least you thought so. Perhaps not if you’re already accepting the fact that he could be cheating again before even seeing him, hearing him out. But no, this isn’t just a kiss, no, its the whole shebang. You can hear it, it’s like the doubt was already planted in your heart long ago, and now was just when the flower finally budded.

You creeped your way up the stairs, listening to the movements on your bed, the creaks in the mattress, sheets being pulled and skin touching skin. You paused, inhaled, gripped the doorknob and mentally prepared yourself for the worst-

At the sight of their bodies intertwined, you could only stare blankly, waiting for them to notice you. It took a couple seconds, but it was the woman who noticed first. Gasping, she jumped out of his arms and tried to madly cover herself up with your sheets. Your shared bedsheets. With Jimin. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at her, it was the man you once loved that you could only focus on. 

“Y/N?” Jimin blinked in disbelief, the shock slowly settling into his system as he stares at you. 

“I- I know what it looks like but-!” 

“Goodbye, Jimin. I’ll come collect my stuff when you’re gone at work.” You utter, before turning your back and shutting the door behind you. 

“Wait, Y/N! Please come back, we can fix this. I didn’t mean to, it just happened, she just happened! It doesn’t mean anything, come back here!” Jimin screams as he races to put on his underwear and catch you before you walk out the front door. Suddenly it looked as though he didn’t care about the woman he was fucking, your marriage or anything. Just controlling the narrative in this horrid state he’s in.

He wasn’t your love anymore. Surely not like this.

Jimin catches you as you gather your stuff and take a step out the door, his hand on your arm. At his touch, you instinctively move away and face him in surprise, but he holds on. The tears in your eyes finally fall, but you hold no expression, no indication of emotion. 

Disappointment? Expectation? Acceptance? He couldn’t read you anymore.

But you saw right through him - your day-drinking, manipulative, neglecting, but gorgeous cheating husband.

And of course he was drunk. Just like your best friend Jungkook said he’d be when he told you to go home and check on him. Apparently, he’s been leaving work early and often, Jungkook has watched him leave several nights in row from the office early. At first he wanted to give his once close friend the benefit of the doubt, but he just couldn’t stomach hiding anything from you. Turns out Jungkook was right, the day-drinking part anyway, you could smell the vodka on Jimin’s breath. It seems he’s relapsed, it’s been a problem for a while, and an intervention was going to be made. Too late for that now, you guess. I don’t think anyone expected it to go this far.

Both of you turn to look as you hear a truck pulling up to your house. Jungkook simply rolls down the window and patiently watches his two best friends from childhood. He has a hand on the door handle, ready to come to your aid if need be. Jungkook chose his side long ago. You, and now he was just making it clear. That much was obvious to Jimin.

But with how you left him on the phone, of course he was going to check on you, he’d never leave you defenceless, even if it was inconvenient for him. Jungkook just couldn’t do that to you, especially not after how he’s seen Jimin treat you so poorly over the years.

Jimin’s face hardens as he looks at Jungkook, waiting for you to run to. 

“Please. Y/N. Don’t leave me...” Jimin utters in pure desperation, tears still escaping his glazed over eyes, leaking down onto his cheeks. He doesn’t even look like the man you once adored so much, he’s lost so much of himself, and for what?

“You did this to yourself, Jimin. I don’t think I can forgive you this time.” You say as you try your hardest to remain composed in the face of his betrayal, all your vows going up in flames. You take his hand off your arm and walk away from your love, your husband, your marriage.

Maybe Jungkook was right. 

It should have been him you married all those years ago - and you think exactly so as he offers you the gentlest, most compassionate smile as you get into his truck. He knows exactly how you feel before you can even open your mouth. And so, you just drive away together, in peace.

Leaving Jimin, seething with jealous anger for his now ex best friend. 

She’s still mine, Jeon. She’s still mine. 

You watch.

[agirlwithtoomuchf-ingtime]

Disobedient - A Terminator x Reader Smut

[A/N]: Been dead for a while. Too many unfinished drafts to work on LMAO. I did that to myself, though.

Anyway- I'm not one to fall for robots or intelligent software. Wouldn't consider myself to be remotely near the category, but damn. This movie flipped a switch somewhere within me and now this story exists. Judge me all you want. I don't believe in God. (Please don't take that seriously lmfao I'm just fucking around)

LOL, hope some peeps enjoy this. I'm actually quite proud of it. I have some more works that are close to being finished, like a part two to the Mikael fic I have up (oh shiii-). Just a reminder that this is all purely imaginative and i wouldn't stand a chance against the characters I write about at all HAHA—

Warnings: heavy seggsy time (minors, dni.), oral (giving and receiving), angry sex undertones (if you squint. This is pretty tame tbh.)

Word Count: 5.6k (about average)

—

“Stay here.” The Terminator says firmly, pressing you against the white wall of the building. You’ve always found a way to get in the machine’s crosshairs when a fight breaks out and it’s clear he’s getting fed up with it. You hear Sarah yell out to John in the distance. There’s a frantic tone in her voice and you know immediately that you’re not staying wherever he’s placed you.

“Whatever.” You grumble, leaning against the wall. He releases his grip on you, synthetic blue eyes boring into yours before he looks away and stomps off. You hear him cock his shotgun as he turns the corner. You pull out your handgun and wait for the sound of his weapon firing. As soon as you hear it, you whip around the corner and shoot at the T-1000 steadily making its approach to the T-800. It reacts to your bullets, temporarily getting stunned as the metal explodes its poly-alloy skin. The T-800 immediately snaps his head in your direction, an angry scowl seeming to form on his face. 

You ignore him as you spot Sarah running towards you in the distance, shielding her small son beneath her as they both sprint to the commotion. You make a break for them, popping a few more caps in the liquid metal’s ass as you pass by. 

“This way! Follow me!” You shout, pointing them in the opposite direction. They begin to follow you through the maze of hallways, practically running up your heels as you burst through a side entrance. 

“Let’s get in the car.” You say, fiddling the keys out of your pocket. You unlock it for the frazzled pair, letting them huddle together in the backseat. Just as you’re pulling out, you see the Terminator bust through the brick exterior of the burning edifice. He looks pissed. He quickly saunters over to the stolen vehicle, ripping open the driver’s side door and glaring at you.

“Move.” He orders, grabbing your left bicep and squeezing it painfully. You yelp when he yanks you out of the seat and stumble when you land, huffing at the cyborg as you rub your now possibly bruised muscle. The machine doesn’t spare a second glance, slamming the door shut behind him as he takes your place. You scoff as you walk over to the passenger side, quickly getting in to avoid engaging the T-1000 any further. 

The ride back is eerily quiet. There’s an obvious tension in the air that nobody wants to question. You lean against the window, watching the moon in the sky. It disappears as you head into the shithole you’re all camping out in. He slowly pulls the car forward, turning it off when it’s completely in the abandoned garage. You swing the door open, walking away from the car and into the furthest decaying room in the decrepit building. You drop your empty gun onto the table in the middle of the room, sitting heavily onto the dusty couch in the corner. The dust flies up as you flop onto the old cushions. You listen as distant footsteps make their way to their respective rooms, rolling your eyes when you hear a particular heavy pair approaching yours. As the T-800 enters your space, you swing your legs up across the couch and cross your arms. This is going to take a while judging by his agitated stance.

He walks up until he’s right in front of you, blue eyes glowering down at you. 

“You disobeyed a direct order, [Y/N].” The machine says sharply. You purse your lips, trying to bite back your frustration. It doesn’t work.

“I’m not useless you fucking idiot. I also have a gun. Just because you’ve had to swing in sometimes doesn’t mean that I can’t handle myself.” You snap, staring icily at the humanoid. You’re sick of him always pushing you away from the action. He narrows his eyes at you, a calculating look present in his gaze. 

“Since my previous attempts to hinder you without harming you have failed, I’m going to enact a different punishment on you.” He announces monotonously. A look of confusion overcomes your expression.

“What does that mean?” You ask, curious what the punishment is. You gasp when he firmly grabs your right forearm faster than you can blink, hoisting you up to your feet with ease.

“I’m going to have sexual intercourse with you.” The machine deadpans, watching your [e/c] eyes widen in surprise and your cheeks turn red. 

He didn’t just—

“Wh-What?” You sputter, feeling your face steadily growing hotter. 

“I’m going to—”

“I heard you the first time!” You shout incredulously, swiftly cutting off the Terminator’s sentence. He simply stares at you, seeming to gaze into your soul. Unable to help yourself, you look down to where his crotch would be before quickly flicking your eyes back to his. 

“C-Can you even- do you…?” You find it hard to muster the courage to ask, but the machine catches on to what you’re trying to say.

“Yes. I have very detailed files located in my CPU.” He looks down to his groin area, slowly looking back up at your flustered face.

“And yes. I do have the proper anatomy.” He tilts his head when your cheeks turn a shade darker due to embarrassment. His left hand comes up to touch your face, feeling the warmth.

“Why is your face so red?” The T-800 asks as he cups your right cheek. You swallow nervously.

“Embarrassment. You’ve caught me completely off guard.” You answer. His thumb strokes over your red flesh tenderly. He seems to drink in your features, memorizing the colors, temperatures and curvature of it all.

“H-How exactly is that a punishment?” You stutter anxiously, flexing your arm that is trapped in his firm grip. 

“I will render you immobile by the end of it without having to seriously injure you.” The machine responds nonchalantly. Your eyes widen for what seems like the hundredth time.

“Aren’t there any other methods you can try?” You spout, leaning your head back when he brings his face closer to yours. His eyes flick to your lips.

“You’ve rendered all of my other alternatives ineffective, [Y/N].” He says firmly, his cool breath brushing over your face. You feel conflicted. Your body is heating up to his advances, but you’re also unsure about this. Sarah and John are just across the old house.

“Bu-But John an-and Sar—”

“They are not your concern right now.” He interrupts before pressing his mouth against yours, fluidly pressing a hot kiss to your lips. You squeak against his fiery smooch, clutching on to his shoulders as he grabs you by the waist to pull you flush against his body. His lips move expertly against yours, a shiver rolling up your spine from how good they feel. The machine’s fleshy exterior oddly tastes just like a normal human’s would, your discovery proven further when he nips your bottom lip to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moan when you feel it brush against your own. His fingers trail up your spine as he continues to kiss you breathless, making your body shake at the sensation. A gasp is ripped from you when the Terminator bunches your hair at the back of your head into a fist and pulls you off his mouth suddenly. His artificial blue eyes search your flushed face as you pant, your fingers clenching the material of his shirt in a death grip.

“What are you doing?” You ask in between your staggered breathing. The machine doesn’t respond, running his eyes down your body. His free hand slides up your side, cupping your left breast through your shirt. He tilts his head curiously, squeezing the soft flesh. As he kneads it, you can feel your nipples begin to press against the fabric of your shirt. Damn you for not wearing a bra. The Terminator notices, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive nub. You inhale sharply as he does and his eyes snap to yours. For a being that is unable to produce emotions he sure is staring at you intensely. 

“I’m looking at your body reacting to me.” He says lowly, releasing his grip on your hair to grope your ass. He palms your right asscheek, the globe of flesh easily engulfed by his large hand. This presses your lower body against him harder and you find yourself letting out a small moan. Your cheeks burn as he looks at you again, seeming to process the noise you just made. His hand once again kneads your ass and he watches as you bite your lip. You’re finding it more difficult to separate from the T-800 as he continues to caress you, trying to figure out what makes you squirm. You can’t deny how hot it’s making you feel. 

“I want to kiss you again.” He states, looking confused about why he is saying that. You smile, your right hand coming up to touch the back of his thick neck. 

“Then kiss me.” You giggle, letting all your anxiety go as you meet him in the middle. You’ll admit that you have thought about the robot in an inappropriate light sometimes, but you always held back because it was certain he couldn’t reciprocate the feelings you had. You kiss him hungrily, guiding his hands to your hips and wrapping your arms around his neck. He grunts against your mouth, caught off guard by your sudden enthusiasm. His fingers dig painfully into the flesh of your hips. You roll yourself against him, feeling his muscled figure press against you. His usually rigid body softens for a second. The action is frighteningly human-like. 

“What was that?” The android asks softly, always curious to learn. You run your hand up the side of his face, your thumb caressing his angular cheek.

“I think that was the tension in your muscles leaving, making you relax.” You murmur against his mouth, feeling the cyborg clench and unclench your hips as he deciphers what that means. As he’s distracted, you manage to swing him around and sit him on the couch, quickly straddling him before he can protest.

“[Y/N]—“ You interrupt him by pressing your thumb over his lips. 

“No. You know nothing sex and I don’t want you to hurt me because you definitely can. Let me teach you a little at least.” You say heatedly to him, carefully running your thumb over his plump lips. His eyes narrow, an ever calculating look in them. After a few more moments of tense silence, the T-800 lays into the couch, signaling that you have free reign. 

“Fine.” He replies, watching as a smug smile crosses your lips.

“You have to learn to slow down and take in the moment.” You say quietly, lust lacing your tone. You lower yourself into his lap completely, gasping when you feel his hard lower anatomy against yours. You fist your hands around the shirt on his wide chest, pulling yourself tightly into him. 

“It’s called foreplay. Stuff you do before the actual act.” You whisper against his neck, beginning to grind your clothed pussy against his clothed dick. Your resounding moan has his hands coming up to hold the tops of your thighs. His fingers are twitching erratically though. A deep exhale leaves his body. You cock your head and repeat the motion again. This time his body shivers, like he’s being electrocuted. The robot squeezes your thighs to the point that you’re certain there will be bruises. A grunt of confusion leaves his artificial voice box. You giggle, nipping his jaw line. 

“Feel good?” You ask softly, resting completely still against him to entice him to do it himself. The male humanoid seems so confused, synthetic blue eyes searching yours.

“I don’t know.” He says flatly and you smile, carefully dragging his hands up to your hips. He grips them tightly.

“Then you try.” You mumble, resting against his chest while he tries to calculate his movements. He watches your face as he attempts to repeat the roll of your hips into his crotch. He nails it, pressing you deeper into him as his arousal rubs against yours. A growl rumbles through him and he continues to grind you against him as you moan. 

“Ah- fuck.” Your grip tightens around the material of his shirt. His precision is unmatched and you couldn’t get the words out to tease him.

“Am I doing this right?” He asks in his usual monotone voice, though there’s the slightest tinge of strain in it. You glare at him, a hitched breath following after he successfully glides against you again. His toneless voice is getting on your nerves. 

“You’re so annoying.” You manage to grit out, forcing yourself to take back over. The cyborg surprisingly lets you overpower him, his striking blue gaze studying your every movement. His eyes narrow scornfully as your words set in.

“I could say the same about you.” He snarks back, making you scowl at him. God– Why did he have to be so damn infuriating?! You tsk, moving to hop off of his lap. So what if he’s obviously stronger than you? It doesn’t give him the right to keep you away from danger you willingly throw yourself into. You grunt in pain when his fingers squeeze painfully into the meat of your hips, keeping you hovering over him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” The machine asks menacingly, his stare reflecting his voice. You glare back, standing your ground.

“Away from you.” You hiss. “Let go of me.” 

The Terminator curls back his lips. It’s an animalistic act and it catches you wildly off guard. He’s never done that. He must be pissed. 

“Why are you so defiant?” He practically growls, his face looming closer to yours. 

“Why are you such an asshole?” You spit back, freezing when he thrusts his hips back up against yours. 

“You drive me insane.” He says hoarsely, like he’s almost sheepish to admit it. You open your mouth to retort back, but all that comes out is an unrestrained moan. The cyborg has latched his teeth on your earlobe, biting down with a bruising pressure that borderlines painful. It feels almost too good. He soon pulls away, softly kissing the same spot almost regretfully.

“It’s like my body knows what it’s doing before my mind does.” The Terminator admits quietly into your ear. You chuckle a bit at his honesty. 

“Then stop trying to think about it.” You reply, arching your back when you feel him squeezing your breast again. He hums low in his chest, adjusting so he’s lying beneath you. His eyes seem to admire your body on top of his, his hand still kneading your right tit as he looks up at you. 

“Show me how.” The machine asks softly, his contemplative gaze watching your every move. His voice is not as flat as it was before. You smile at him, planting your hands on his firm chest. Slowly, you begin by lazily rolling your hips against his own. His large hands traverse the expanse of your body, carefully squeezing each section to find what you like best. The cyborg finds you respond to your ass being touched the most. Squeezing each globe of flesh possessively, he begins to mimic your grinding with his own against your clothed pussy. You whine when you feel his hardness press against your clit with such confidence. He seems to perk up at that.

“Like this?” The machine asks gently, repeating the perfect roll of his hips yet again. It elicits another noise of pleasure from you and you nod your head.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” You tumble out, your fingers digging into his pectorals. He grunts in response, massaging your ass carefully into place so you’re now softly rocking against him in a more intimate rhythm. 

“Oh!” You cry out, not expecting the sudden change in pace and atmosphere. You feel your body heating up quicker than you anticipated, the Terminator’s dry humping proving to be more sensual than you would’ve imagined. It’s difficult to form words while he has you in this new position now, your stomach winding tighter and your voice raising higher. 

“H-Hey, y-ahn!” You moan when you begin to feel yourself on the edge. 

“Hmm? You’re going to have to speak up.” He rumbles deeply. You frown at him and watch as the corner of his lips turn up teasingly, soon pausing his rhythm to allow you to get a few words out. 

“T-Touch me, please.” You say breathily, watching as the robot’s eyes darken with thought. It’s interesting to watch his internal dialogue through his eyes. He’s obviously trying to learn as he goes. It’s kind of cute. You move with him as the Terminator shifts, laying flat on his back across the old couch. It’s weird to be the one sitting on top of the deadliest threat known to any human. He lightly pats your butt forward, like he’s asking you to move up to straddle his face. You look at him with wide eyes. He offers a smirk. Nibbling your bottom lip, you shift up towards his angular features. When you get closer, the machine helps you to strip off your trousers. You shiver when you feel his automated breath on your now exposed folds. You feel so vulnerable sitting above him like this. He has full access to your body in this position. Perhaps that was his intention. You shiver when you feel one of his warm thumbs brush over your slit, collecting some of the wetness there. He swipes the digit over his tongue, processing the new liquid. His eyes are sharp as they connect with yours.

“So aroused over practically nothing.” He states monotonously, but his face holds a smug expression. You sneer down at him.

“Now you— OH!” You damn near screech when the cyborg shoves his face right into your soaked cunt. He doesn’t waste any time, licking a methodical line all the way up. You shudder above him, one of your hands sliding down to grip his hair. He hums against your wetness. You can feel him experimenting, trying to find what makes you squirm the most. He’s succeeding. Your mind is in a haze, feeling foggy from the amount of pleasure this robot is steadily bringing you. Subconsciously, you can feel the momentum of his hips rutting into the air. Poor thing is lacking attention and even he doesn’t seem to know. Through your desire-filled fog, you manage to bend back and place your left hand over his impressive size.

The machine falters for a minute when he feels your smaller hand drag against his hard cock. Then he reacts. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as his loud groan is muffled by your pussy.

“O-Oh wow.” You pant, stroking him again. Another deep noise vibrates through you. It makes you realize just how close you are.

“Aaa- I’m gonna come.” You whine, pressing yourself harder against his face. A few more precise licks from him have you seeing stars. You hold on for dear life as you come into the awaiting machine’s mouth, your fingers tightly wound in his artificial hair. You can’t even hear the curses and moans slipping from your mouth as you ride out your high. Your vision is white for a few seconds before you can hear yourself panting and feel your hips twitching.

The T-800 is pressing gentle kisses to your sensitive pussy as you come down from your orgasm. A strangled whimper leaves your mouth when you finally process him doing so. You weakly raise yourself away from his face, shaking your head. 

“T-Too sensitive.” You say airily, groaning when you feel him turn his lips to your inner thighs instead. He waits for you to calm down, languidly massaging your hips as you loosen your grip on his hair. Eventually you look down at him, a small smile on your face as he rests his cheek against your soft skin. He seems to be entranced by the sight of you. You sit back on his firm chest, wondering what’s going to happen next. The robot’s hands shift from your hips down to your ass, his fingers kneading the plush flesh. His tongue peeks past his lips as he licks your cum off of them. You swear you can see his pupils dilate. The action makes you feel unbearably hot all over again. His head tilts slightly, ever observant eyes studying you. He stays silent though, clearly waiting for you to make the next move. Interesting. 

You decide you want to see what you were stroking earlier, so you adjust yourself to face his crotch. Your backside is in his face in this position, but he doesn’t seem to mind judging by the way his large hands immediately return to massage it. It’s quiet as your hands fiddle with his belt, the sound of the metal clinking the only sound that fills the air. You don’t waste a second when it’s unfastened, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. You can feel the machine sigh deeply beneath you. The fabric must’ve been tight against him. You smile at the thought, your petite hands carefully pushing the material down to expose more of the T-800’s skin. He lifts his hips slightly to make it easier for you to do so. You gasp quietly when his hard length smacks against his stomach. Oh wow. The size is certainly intimidating. What intrigues you the most is how authentic it looks. The tip is an angry red with some precum already smeared atop it. The shaft is quite girthy with a few veins here and there. There’s a slight curve to it as well. You can feel your inner walls clench in excitement as you continue to stare at his anatomy. The pits of your lower belly are burning yet again. You flinch when you feel something poke at your entrance. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, peeking over your shoulder the best you can to see what the Terminator is up to. His face holds an investigative expression. You shiver when you feel what you’ve determined to be his finger touch your wet pussy again. It doesn’t pull back this time, instead circling your hole. His silence is unnerving.

“I saw your muscles contract. Are you alright?” He asks innocently. You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escapes your lips. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just excited.” You respond, returning your attention to the hard cock that rests against his defined abdomen. You gently take him into your hand, mulling over the fact that your fingertips just barely touch when wrapped around his girth. You give him an experimental pump, smiling in delight when his hips jerk in response. A quiet grunt leaves him. You repeat the motion, this time continuing to stroke him while adjusting the pressure. A low sound rumbles through the machine and you can feel his fingers squeeze the back of your thighs tightly. The muscles of his stomach grow taut as you continue your ministrations, watching in awe as precum slowly oozes from his tip. You dip down and run your tongue over the head, collecting the milky fluid that leaks from it. A sharp inhale emits from the cyborg as you drag your warm appendage over his sensitive flesh. You take a moment to think over the taste before swallowing. It’s slightly sour, but otherwise flavorless. It holds the same texture as regular ejactulate goes. Without any further hesitation, you wrap your lips around his cock and begin to suck on him while stroking too. The machine’s hips begin to shake beneath you, most likely feeling overwhelmed from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“Mm-mmpf.” A strained, breathy moan resounds from him and you hum against his length at the noise. That was hot. His hips still erratically twitch beneath you. It seems this is becoming too much for him at the moment.

���Wh-What is this? My systems ar-are–nngh.” His voice is tense as he attempts to speak. It’s clear he’s struggling to process what exactly he’s experiencing right now. It’s kind of cute, but he needs to chill out. His grip on your thighs is growing painful. In an attempt to make the cyborg relax, you smooth your left hand over the top of his muscular thigh and begin to lightly trace patterns on it. You also pull your mouth off of him, lazily pumping his cock instead while you wait for him to cool down a bit. His tremors eventually subside and you feel him kneading your poor thighs. 

“You okay?” You hum quietly, looking over your shoulder to assess his expression. Judging by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, he appears to be deep in thought.

“Yes. Keep going.” He replies. You nod, resuming your task of overworking him. Until you feel a finger prod at your puffy folds yet again. Before you can say anything, the digit begins to slowly sink into your twitching heat. A shaky exhale leaves you as he reaches down to his third knuckle with ease. You struggle to continue stroking him as the Terminator gently rubs his finger against your walls, clearly trying to find your most pleasurable spots. A heady whine echoes through the dingy room as he manages to caress a part that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“You should lower your voice, [Y/N]. Sarah and John are still here.” The machine murmurs. You scoff, now determined to make him regret those words. Readjusting your grip, you begin to pump his dick in your hand with more fervor. His hips jump slightly and you smirk as a choked groan emits from him. You don’t let the robot recover from the sudden change, quickly engulfing the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking. A violent shudder rolls through the machine’s body and it only spurs you on. Taking a deep breath, you try to swallow the Terminator’s cock down your throat. A loud moan fills the air as you do, his hips snapping up on their own accord. You gag as the rest of his length is forced into your esophagus, your lips successfully pressing against his pubic bone. His hands are again wrapped around the backs of your thighs, a plethora of unintelligible words expelling from the T-800. You manage to relax yourself, starting to slowly drag your mouth up and down. 

“Oh– I d-don’t– I think I’m–” His loud gasp is your only warning before you feel a gush of liquid spill down your throat. You choke, swallowing the best you can before you have to pull away so you don’t throw up. The machine is shaking beneath you, a final spurt of cum rolling down the length of his cock before he stills completely. You lick him clean, savoring it before you sit up and turn around. You’re seated comfortably on his defined abdomen, looking down at his blissed out expression. His cheeks are red and his eyes are dilated as hell, only a smidge of the blue irises visible. It makes you smile. 

“How are you feeling?” You expected him to instantly remind you that machines cannot feel anything, but you’re surprised when he doesn’t respond immediately. 

“Warm.” He murmurs quietly after a few seconds and you swear your heart melts at the simple, genuine reply. The T-800’s eyes flicker around your figure for a few moments, seeming to really take in the view in front of him. His lips twitch and you feel his right hand cup the back of your head.

“Come here.” He mumbles as he gently brings you up towards his face, meeting you halfway and passionately pressing his lips against yours. You feel his other arm slink around your waist as he sits up a bit, carefully pressing your body snug against his own. You gladly sink into him, rolling your tongue against his bottom lip in a silent demand for him to deepen the kiss. He seems to understand, a soft groan vibrating against your mouth as he opens his own. He allows you to explore, secretly enjoying the taste of you being processed through his overheated system. It gradually grows more raunchy and you only pull back when you feel his length twitch against your ass. You must’ve shifted down here at some point. His hands slide down to your plush backside, gently massaging the skin while he practically stares into your soul.

“Would you like to continue?” He asks softly, focusing on your face as you smile. You adjust your hips accordingly, sighing out an enthusiastic “Yes.”

The machine helps you adjust so you’re hovering over his cock, teasingly circling your entrance before pressing against it. He pauses, clearly continuing to give you the lead. Lightly biting the inside of your cheek, you begin to sink down on his sizable dick. A low moan expels from you as you slide him into you, relishing in the way he seems to pulsate inside of you. The robot shares your pleasure, sucking in a breath despite not having lungs. Strange…

“Mmm..You’re overwhelming.” He shudders, and you moan as you eventually press against his base. You feel extremely full, but it’s surprisingly super exhilarating. An erotic chuckle puffs from you as you adjust, your hands cupping his somehow rosy cheeks. 

“You feel so good.” You admit breathily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as you begin to set a rhythm. A sonorous hum is his response as you feel his hands run up your back. An intense, but intimate grind is kept in place as you both process what feels good and what feels better. You’re reduced to shaky moans and pants as the heat within grows hotter. The T-800 beneath you is in a blissed out haze, but is still unsurprisingly quiet as he watches your reactions the entire time. Ingraining it in his CPU files. A growl thrums from him as he suddenly hijacks your rhythm, forcing your hips down until you’re flush against him and keeping you there. 

“I’d like to take over.” He grunts out and you whimper against his neck, loathing the fact that you can’t move in his vice-like grip. You brush your thumbs over his cheeks before nodding. 

“Okay.” You whisper, adjusting your hands so they hold onto his broad shoulders. His fingers adjust their grip on your backside, aiding in lifting you slowly off of his length. He continues until just the tip remains inside, then he just as painstakingly lowers you back down. The motion allows you to feel everything inch by inch and it makes you feel warmer than you thought possible. A high-pitched moan erupts from you as soon as he bottoms out, the length of him perfectly massaging against a sensitive spot deep within. 

“Right there?” He asks softly. You nod, your fingers digging into his shoulders. A smirk curls his lips at your response, mischief flashing briefly through his focused expression. You don’t have a second to question it when the machine grinds into you before pulling out to piston his entire length back into that exact, mind-numbing spot. A strangled gasp is all you can muster as you hold on to his broad shoulders, your head tilting back as the warmth from within your body slowly overwhelms you. The pressure builds as he sets a bruising pace, the smack of your hips against his audible now. Your entire body jolts against his powerful thrusts, but it isn’t painful. Not when his cock massages the inside of you perfectly every single time. An obscene squelching sound soon becomes audible. You can feel the pressure mounting, your fingers clawing his biceps frantically. His lips brush over your neck. The Terminator is quiet, but a quiet set of groans rumbles from him every now and again. He remains watchful of your face, looking on as you slowly begin to lose yourself on him. Because of him. He’s quite a sight to bestow, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with his mouth slightly parted in focus.

“Y-You bastard.” You manage to grit out through your pants, a heated moan pouring out soon after. His teeth find your earlobe and all you can do is arch your back as a powerful wave of heat seizes you suddenly. His hand covers your mouth just in time as an unrestrained cry tears through your throat as the orgasm washes over. The arm around your waist locks up and you can hear him grunt as your pussy clenches around him, the cyborg burying his cock deep within you before he stills up as well.

“You’re so t-tight—nggh.” His artificial voice cracks before his entire body shudders, the feeling of his cum pumping into you following after. It only prolongs your ecstasy. The machine holds you tightly against him until both of you have recovered, removing his hand away from your mouth to join his other arm around your waist.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks after a bout of silence and you smile against his chest, shaking your head.

“No.” You mumble, a deep sigh leaving you as he moves to slide out of you. You groan lightly as he shifts so you now lay comfortably on top of him, the soreness of your body just beginning to set in by the movement. The humanoid’s fingers trail over your sweaty skin, mapping over the expanse over your spent frame.

“Good.” He says softly, and you snort at his response. The tips of his fingers trace down your spine as he hums.

“The goal was to make it hard for you to walk without seriously injuring you. I’m just making sure this solution is effective.” His usual monotone is back, but you pay no mind. You’re too busy falling asleep against his bulky form. Seems the robot wore you out more than you thought he could.

——

[nevernonline]

✧.* what’s your number?; kmg

synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen.

paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), neighbors2lvrs vibes, fuckboy&girl reader and gyu.

warning/s: alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors - dni), talks of broken bones, oc has female genitalia

word count: 3.8k

content: seggsy times, idiots being besties, reader loses her job, all the vibes.

note/s: loosely based on one of my fav movies, what's your number with anna ferris. lmao enjoy. also def unedited so srry. xo.

“Miss. Y/L/N. I’m very sorry but we have decided to let you go.” 

Your boss put down a brown cardboard box that once held wine from a staff party about a week ago. You stood in silence, why were you being fired? You’re one of the only executives who does their job. All of the other employees sit around and drink whiskey and flirt with the other women on your floor on company time, go home to their wives, and make six figures. 

“Sir, can I ask why?” 

“Budget cuts, sorry honey.” 

Honey of course. Not only is he himulating you, he’s also being condescending. 

“Why not fire Ted? He does nothing but use his company card for ‘business expenses’ like taking his different fucks to exotic vacations and restaurants.” 

“Our female clients like Theodore. Sorry it has to be this way. Here’s a check to keep your rent underway and for any troubles. Good luck.” 

You picked up the brown cardboard he handed it to you and dumped the white envelope into your bag as you stormed out of his glass chamber. 

Perfect timing, your brothers getting married and you’re getting fired. Your mother will surely love to hear about this. 

After gathering the contents of your desk you found your way back to your white and gray covered apartment, sinking down into the perfect couch you bought yourself as a reward for your first month in the job. 

Pulling your laptop from the pocket of your work bag, you scrolled through the news on your side widget . Coming across an article written in some stupid lifestyle magazine about ‘the appropriate number of sexual partners for women.’ 

“Okay, so society is regressing.” 

Curious enough you scrolled through to a small section with a quiz, childish, but probably suitable for women over 50 or under 21. 

Following your finger down the various categories that pertained to you until it came to the bottom of the page pointing out your result. 

“15 and over, women with this number often have difficulty finding a spouse and are unlikely to ever settle down. Are they fucking serious? Men can fuck 50 women and still are fine.” 

A vibration came from your phone, a text from your neighbor. 

[3:44pm]. 

Mingyu: Mind helping me out? New girl won’t take the bait about my “emergency” 

Y/N: what’s the issue with her this time? 

Mingyu: nothing, just too clingy. I’m expecting you in five, say our dad fell in the shower. Thank you, owe you. 

Y/n: got it see you in five. 

Mingyu and you met often when you were ushering out hook ups or crazy exes show up to your door. You didn’t know much about his life, other than he’s a model, and obviously has bad luck with women. 

Pulling yourself up off your couch and throwing a blazer back over your shoulders you strode off down to the other end of the hallway. 

“Mingyu? Mingyu seriously answer your phone? Hello!” 

The door opened revealing a semi-naked girl, she was pretty sure, blonde, tall, nice eyes, but boring. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Mingyu’s sister, who the fuck are you?” 

“Oh my god! So sorry, hi so nice to meet you, I’m Ailee his gir-“ 

“My friend, y/n. What’s wrong?” 

Letting yourself passes the bra sporting blonde you looked Mingyu straight in the face and pulled out your best crying face, it was easy today being that you’re pissed about work and that stupid fucking quiz. 

“It’s dad, he fell. I don’t think it’s good, we have to go.” 

“Oh. Okay, let me change.” 

Mingyu pulled in his jeans and a white t-shirt, grabbed his fancy leather wallet from the counter and pulled you through the front door of his condo. 

“Ailee, let yourself out okay?” 

“Call me?”

“Uh, maybe it sounds like this is bad, maybe we should stop seeing each other? I’ll call you.” 

The truth is Mingyu was never going to call her, he said that to all the others. Yet, you never saw them again. 

Silently you open the door to your place and shut it behind you. 

“She seems nice.” 

“Yeah trust me, she’s not.” 

“Noted. But, better than that crazy red headed girl, Cass was it?” 

“We don’t have to talk about her.” 

“Missing that jacket still?”

“Yes.” 

Mingyu took his place on your leather armchair and sipped the coffee you had initially made for yourself. 

“What is this? What’s your number?”

“Oh my god. Stop looking at my shit.” 

You whipped the lid of your laptop close and stole it out of his hands

“Do you really think anyone cares how many people you sleep with? Isn’t that kind of fucked up?” 

“You can only say that because well, one your a man and two you’ve fucked basically half the women in this city.” 

“Not true, we haven’t fucked.” 

“Right and we will not.” 

“Sure, sure keep telling yourself that. So what is it? 12?” 

“Do you really need that answer?” 

“Yes. And I will bother you until you tell me.” 

“17.” 

Mingyu laughed, not because he felt bad for you or that you were going to hell for fucking 17 people, but because he didn’t see the big deal. 

“Oh come on, that is not that bad.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“Maybe 20?” 

“We are way too close in number for me to not feel weird about it now.” 

“Because it doesn’t matter, why do you think you couldn’t get a husband or boyfriend or whatever the fuck you want because of that?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t until today I guess.” 

“Bad day?” 

The dark haired man’s head nodded towards the unpacked cardboard box sitting on your dining table. 

“Weird day. And now I have to go see my family at an overly fancy party and sit around clutching cocktails and lie that I didn’t lose my job, just until their precious boy is married off.” 

“Ah, the black sheep of a rich family huh?” 

“Shut up, no. They’re just judgmental is all. Well, my mom is anyway.” 

“I see. What are you wearing?” 

“I don’t know? What’s wrong with what I have on now?” 

Mingyu looked you over in your semi unbuttoned dress shirt and oversized trousers, sexy and sophisticated, but a little boring for a party. 

“Actually you look good. But, it’s not exactly giving a cocktail party for the sister of the groom. Especially if your mom is as judgmental as you say.” 

“Okay, go in my closet then. Work your weird model magic or whatever, Mr. Jeans and white tee.” 

“Anything for you, rich girl.” 

You walked Mingyu through your bedroom into the oversized walk in closet, filled to the brim of clothes, half of them with tags still on. Gifts from boyfriends, friends, your mother. 

“Wow, I didn’t expect this.” 

“And what did you expect?” 

“A closet turned into an office and like five pairs of the same pants, maybe matching pajama sets. But not this.” 

Sitting down on the small stool you let the man rifle his way through the various colors of fabric. 

“Okay, so this black dress. It’s tight but not overwhelmingly, it’ll show your figure and still make you appropriate. These tall black boots, sexy to show off your long legs and make you look even taller, a nice bag, maybe.. this red one? Or the green, just for a pop of color. Put it on.” 

“You finish quickly .” 

“Never had a woman say that to me before. Hurry up.” 

Smirking, you run back into your bedroom, out of sight from the man tapping his fingers on the marble countertop of your dressing room, sliding into the outfit he picked out. 

“Okay, I look-“

“Beautiful.” 

“Really? Don’t you think this is a little much? I mean, for this?” 

“Not at all, it’s actually really simple. May I?” 

He held up a silver chain necklace in his hands and waited until you nodded as he strung it around your neck. 

“Perfect. Now, leave your hair up. Maybe a nice bun and curl the front pieces? You look nice without makeup on, but do that cute winged liner look you do with a nude lip.” 

“Okay, since when did you become a stylist?” 

“I’m a model, I know what I’m talking about. Come on, chop chop.” 

“Okay, mom. Jesus.” 

“Dad. Daddy, actually.” 

“That's never happening.” 

Doing his instructions as he asked, you curled the front pieces of your hair letting it softly dangle in front of your face and placed the rest up on the crown of your head in a loosely tied knot. 

“Okay. So maybe you’re good at this.” 

“I know. If you need my help further, you know where to find me.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Holding up your phone you realized how much time has passed and grabbed your keys. 

“Right. Thank you.” 

“My pleasure. See you soon, y/n.” 

“Bye, Gyu.” 

Walking up to the front steps of your parents luxurious brown stone, you felt the cold sweat under your armpits before walking in the front door. 

“Y/N holy shit, where have you been? Mom is going to kick your ass.” 

“Sorry, Chanie. I had something going on. Where is she?” 

“In the dining room with Marnie and Seungcheol. Talking about wedding stuff, please save us.” 

Coming to your brother's rescue was part of the job of being an older sister. Seeing him settle down and get engaged to a girl like Marnie was amazing for you, she was everything he needed, and it was nice to have another girl in your family. 

Grabbing  a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a waiter, you strode up to your mother in your childhood home, still as nervous as you would have been as a little girl to be under her gaze. 

“Aw, my baby. Finally arrived. Hello.” 

“Hi, Mom. Hello, guys.” 

You mom hugged you giving a kiss on both of your blushing cheeks passing you along to greet your brother's future wife and his friend Seungcheol. 

“Y/N, you look amazing. Where did you get this beautiful dress?” 

“Thank you. My friend helped me pick this out actually, I don’t remember where it’s from.” 

“Friend? Which friend is this, darling?” 

“His name is Mingyu, he’s my neighbor.” 

“Gay? He has wonderful taste.” 

“No, not gay mom. He’s a model.” 

“Oh wow, can I see a photo? Why didn’t you bring him?” 

“Maybe next time.” 

After downing the first glass of alcohol you quickly look for another, Seungcheol already holding a glass in his hand for you with a wink. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Y/N, can you go find your father? Now that you're here we can start dinner.” 

“Yep.” 

Strolling throw the various rooms full of priceless knickknacks and photos of your youth, you stop at the open oak doors of your fathers study, looking at him for a moment, behind his desk, glasses on, reading his book. 

“Hello, Dad. May I come in?” 

“Y/N, yes of course. Just hiding out here until I can eat some dinner. How are you?” 

“I’m okay, mom sent me to get you to come eat. What are you reading?” 

“Oh, just some Orwell. Relaxes me.” 

“Shall we, sir?” 

“Yes, my girl.” 

You held your arm out for your father, he was always your best friend, someone who no matter what supported everything you wanted to do. He was stern, but even after parenting you he would end it with a hug and a piece of candy, seeing him grow older had your heart in pain. 

Searching the table for your placecard, it sat you right in between your brother and Seungcheol, his best man and best friend for longer than you could ever remember. 

“Are you coming to his bachelor mixer?” 

Seungcheol’s long eyelashes fluttered in front of your face and you noticed how much more mature he looked, he was always cute, but it’s grown on you now. 

“Are you going to embarrass me?” 

“I’m not the one who got drunk in college and broke her arm trying to dive into the fountain.” 

“Ouch. At least I haven’t shit myself drunk as an adult and embarrassed myself in front of the girl I liked.” 

“I did not shit myself. It was a fart.” 

“A fart with a little poop, a shart if you will. What did they call you? Shart Seungcheol?” 

Your mother interrupted the light flirting you two were enjoying and gave a speech about how lovely it is to see her baby marrying a second daughter and so on and so on. 

After everyone downed their salmon and fancy finger food, you got into the silly party bus along side the rest of the bridal party, moving on to the night of drinking ahead of you. 

“Guys let’s play a game on the way to the bar.” 

Your brother's fiancé spoke, turning down the music and passing around multiple bottles of tequila and glasses. 

“Everyone right down a confession on your paper. If we guess whose it is, they have to drink, but if you get it wrong you drink.” 

Looking down at the small pink sheet of paper you wrote about your day, your sex number, and you losing your job. Maybe nobody will get it, maybe nobody will care because they’ll be equally as drunk. 

The game went on as your anxiety grew and nobody had chosen your confession yet, that was until your brother pulled one of the last sheets of paper out from the bowl. 

“Today I lost my job, I let a stupid magazine article tell me how women who have sex with more than 15 men means they’re unloveable and unwanted. I can’t wait to get fucked up. Congratulations! Well that’s my sister.” 

“What? How did you guess that?” 

“I know your handwriting dumbass, drink, everyone drink.” 

Your night continued, nobody mentioned your failure as a person, they just celebrated the happy couple. 

More and more drinks in, maybe the same amount of people you’ve had sex with. You took it upon yourself to get people on the dance floor, when you felt a pair of hands coming up on your hips, turning around to curse them out, you recognized the eyes staring back at you. 

Mingyu. 

“What the hell are you doing here!?” 

“Birthday party, we always come here. What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Mixed sexes bachelor party.” 

Mingyu's hands were still resting on your hips, on top of the very dress he helped you pick out hours before. 

“Exciting. Want to get a drink with me?” 

“I have one.” 

You held up the half empty glass of your Negroni and Mingyu snatched it from your grip, downing it for you. 

“You’re paying.” 

“Yes. That was the plan.” 

His hand pulled out off the dance floor and back over to a pair black leather bar stools, waving the bartender over. 

“Two whiskey sours please.” 

“No, one whiskey sour. I’ll have a whiskey neat.” 

The bartender nodded working his magic for the two rocks glasses. 

“Here you go, tab Mingyu?” 

“Yes, thanks John.” 

“Wow first name bases?” 

“I told you we like to come here. Who’s the pale dude staring at us?” 

You turned around to look at your brother, cheering you from across the bar. 

“My brother, Chan. His wedding party.” 

“Yes, I remember. I meant the one next to him?” 

“Ah, Seungcheol. Best man.” 

“He wants to fuck you, maybe he’s lucky number eighteen.” 

“Maybe he was lucky number ten back in the day.” 

“Do you remember his number?” 

“No, but I’ve already fucked him. In college.” 

“Ah, I see. Still on the hunt?” 

“Not at all actually, I’m celabte now.” 

“No way, I bet you could find many dudes who’d want to fuck you here.” 

“It’s a matter of if I want to fuck them no?” 

“Touchè” 

“What about him?” 

Mingyu pointed to a tall blonde, long hair, and pretty lips. 

“Gorgeous. But not my style. I’m not really in the mood to get laid.” 

“And let my work go to waste?” 

You smiled, sipping your drink and feeling the warm liquid enter your body. 

“You didn’t give me my beautiful face and fat ass, you just put it in a dress. And as my dad says, leave them wanting more.” 

“You’re a very funny drunk, she shocks me even more.” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Do you ever get tired of having me save your ass from all those girls? Don’t you want to settle down and not have your neighbor coming over to rescue you all the time?” 

“Maybe the reason I do it is so you’ll save me.” 

“Shut up.” 

“No. I’m serious. I like hanging out with you, I enjoy seeing you, and you’re very entertaining. I like role play.” 

“I see, you have a kink.” 

“All jokes aside, I like seeing you.” 

You were surprised by his gentle voice and nature, you always knew him from the outside, a beautiful guy who has bad luck getting girls out of his apartment for whatever reason. 

“I like seeing you too.” 

Mingyu's hand rested on your thigh as he looked towards the same dance floor he pulled you from before, basically begging you with his eyes to come back out with him. 

You agreed, holding his hands through various sweaty bodies, some you knew and some you didn’t. Dancing along with them to the rhythm of the song, holding yourself up on Mingyu's large frame 

“Surprised to see you in something other than jeans and a tee.”

“You like?” 

“If I say yes are you going to fuck with me over it?” 

“Maybe. Are you going to let me be your lucky number eighteen?” 

“If you promise you don’t have some random girl barge in your door tomorrow to get me to leave?” 

“She’ll be tied up.” 

“Let’s go. I have to say bye to my brother first. Come on.” 

Walking towards the door you spot Chan playing darts with Marnie, who was obviously kicking his ass. 

“Hey! I’m going to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Is this Mingyu?” 

“Oh shit, yes Marnie, Chan, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my brother Chan and his fiancé Marnie.” 

Mingyu outstretched his hand to the couple, shaking it kindly. 

“Nice to meet you man, my sister talks about you a lot. Be good to her.” 

“Chan, shut the hell up. Love you both, mwah mwah.” 

“Mingyu if you’re free tomorrow, y/n has a plus one. We’d love to have you.” 

Smiling and whisking Mingyu out of the front door, you began to run together through the light rain falling, two blocks to your apartment. 

“Sorry, my brothers, an idiot.” 

“He seems nice, his wife to be too.” 

You felt your hands shaking in nervousness riding up the elevator to your shared floor. Stepping off and standing in the hallway between your two front doors. 

“Your place or mine?” 

“Well, I picked you up didn't I? Come to mine.” 

Mingyu led you through his familiar front door and helped you out of your wet clothes, throwing them in his washing machine. 

Now standing in his living room, just in your black lace bra and panties, feeling like all those other girls before. Almost in fear of someone knocking to kick you out of his dimmed apartment. 

“Come on.” 

You giggled as he picked up your half naked frame and carried you into his bedroom. 

“Lay down. Off the edge of the bed, trust me.” 

You didn’t say anything just followed his instructions as his fingers came and wrapped themselves around your lace underwear, blowing on your clit with his soft breath as he pulled them down your freshly shaved legs. 

“Fuck.” 

His lips came in contact between your heated center, splitting his kisses between your aching parts and your thighs. 

Your hands working their way through his hair as he used his tongue to work his way around your clit and between your folds, pushing you closer and closer into your own euphoria. 

Maybe you understood why girls didn’t want to let him go, if this was his head game, you can’t even imagine what could come next. 

“You taste so sweet, I should’ve known better to be careful, I might get addicted to you.” 

“Stop with the niceties, Gyu. Can you please fuck me?” 

“Eager are we?” 

“Yes.” 

Mingyu pulled you up by the back of your neck, forcing your head near the top of his dick, waiting for you to wrap your mouth around it and get it sopping wet so he could enter in between your legs. 

“Oh, baby, that feels so good. I love watching you on my dick, but we have to stop before you get me going too much.” 

Your head turned up at him, mascara slightly spilling under your eyes, as you opened your mouth searching for the feeling of his lips on yours, before he planted in on you he spit into your mouth, and inserted himself between the same thighs he was kissing before, slowly entering inch by inch, making you wait to feel him fully inside of you even more. 

“Comfortable, baby?” 

“Yes, faster please.” 

“So polite, but as you said before, leave them wanting more and more. I want you to get riled up.”  

“Yes, sir.” 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 

His thrusting became more rapid with your soft moaning, kissing your neck in the process, riding out your high with you, you felt him begging to slow down as his teeth wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking softly at them. 

“You’re so delicious, I don’t think I can last much longer.” 

“Me either, but it’s only round one.” 

“Do you want to do this again?” 

“Eighteen has always been my lucky number, now fill me up.” 

With your final words, Mingyu rode the rest of his high before finishing inside of you, placing a soft kiss on your perfectly pink lips, and dipping his head back down to your center to clean you up with his mouth. 

“Want to stay?” 

“Is that alright?” 

“Yeah, come on. Let’s shower.” 

The tall man led you into his beautiful marble bathroom and turned the water on in his shower built for two. 

“I meant what I said at the bar, you know. I like being with you.”  

Your long arms reached up to his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo. 

“I meant what I said too, lucky eighteen.” 

“So I’m your lucky number?” 

“Yes, don’t tell my mom tomorrow.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her that you called me sir and the ass she gave you is indeed perfect.” 

You planted a soft kiss on his lips, before pushing him back under the warm water of the shower head. 

“I dare you.” 

[starqueensthings]

If It’s Not You, It’s Not Anyone.

Ficlets inspired by song lyrics: part two.

Pairing: ARC Echo x GN!Reader

POV/WC: 2nd, but from Echo's perspective, 2082 words

Rating/Warnings: Teen. Overall fluffy but with significant mentions of anxiety. Seggsy time is implied a few times also.

A/N: while this isn’t my favourite song in the world, I’ve never been able to listen to it without this kind of imagery floating through my mind. I love the lyrics, especially when I fit them into an ARC Echo sized box. Not proof or beta read (and I’m notorious for making up my own words when I can’t think of the one I want… fair warning.) ENJOY. 

“Forever’s not enough time to love you the way that I want, because every morning I find you, I fear the day that I don’t. You say that I won’t lose you but you can’t predict the future ‘cause certain things are out of our control. If you ever move on without me, I need to make sure you know: you are the only one I’ll ever love… if it’s not you it’s not anyone.”

[Anyone - Justin Bieber]

He wasn’t a betting man anymore, the days he’d found himself brazen enough to wager his belongings were long since outgrown, and now merely a memory of the past brought up too frequently atop relentless jeers from his brother, Fives. The purgatorial hours after curfew but preceding sleep, saw Domino Squad sprawled across a table, discarded face cards tossed aside as the boys bickered with each other over who lay claim to the prize pot anchoring their fun. Echo was only too miserable to watch his prized possessions float from his clutches, lost to the treachery of one bad poker hand after another, the certainty of his impending win often betrayed by Hevy’s nearly inscrutable bluffing skills. “Just lucky, I guess,” the broad shouldered soldier would coo across the table with a wink, smirking as his fingers draped themselves eagerly around the mountain of contraband that he’d won.

Time and experience had seen a shift in priorities. Life… war… had quickly reinforced the notion that the distribution of Lady Luck’s attention was entirely unpredictable, and trying to elucidate her choices could send a man spiraling into an anguished insanity. It was far simpler to just swallow the bitter pill of unreasoning: sometimes you simply had her favour, and sometimes you did not (and Hevy, somehow, seemed to always have it).

Departing the protective bubble of Kamino’s isolation had proved less of a challenge than Echo anticipated thanks to the unexpected comfortability of their first posting. Surveilling the Rishi system from the stillness of a desolate moon was barely a challenge for the squad’s capable hands, especially after years of conditioning had endowed their expectations with images of carnage and violence, but despite the perceived insignificance of their objective, their overseeing officers were no less regimented or dogmatic than those whom had raised them. Tactics and strategy continued to be encouraged at every possible opportunity; obedience enforced, and discipline expected. “Segregation from the front lines is no excuse for complacency,” their sergeant would iterate repeatedly. “Any brother would be lucky to have landed this posting. Take it seriously.”

Between inappropriately fluffy songs, Clone Nation Radio recounted the events of battles fought across the galaxy, perfectly mirroring the sergeants continued pleas. Seemingly the only squad member willing to heed the advice, the quiet hours on the distant moon saw Echo pouring over schematics, the memorization of regulation manuals presenting him with the perfect shield against the potential chill of Lady Luck’s cold shoulder. His brothers’ snide remarks about indulging in this new ‘strange’ habit, simply rolled off his armoured shoulders. “We’ll see who gets the last laugh when these ‘dumb manuals’ help me out-survive all of you,” he would always chirr back with a roll of his eyes.

Yet his incessant need to retain information had unknowingly only sharpened a double-edged sword. In his earnest to ensure a complete competency, his shield of preparedness had rendered him protected on one hand, but preoccupied on the other, with the unknown shift in his awareness exposing a notion shared by many troopers: that the monster of mortality is all-too happy to lay-in-wait long enough for him to be forgotten about, pushed to the back burner a overly confident soldier's mind.  

The Rishi posting was quiet… until it wasn’t. Kamino seemed a fortress impenetrable to external threat… until it wasn’t. Both events had struck Echo with a hard blow of realization that tactics can only ensure a portion of one's safety, schematics will not prevent an invasion, one must learn to expect only that which is unexpected, and there are variables far outside any one man’s control. Lady Luck will ultimately always get to play her game…

And sadly, he’d seen too many brothers had crumple at his side, their torches snuffed in a fraction of a blink, many of them with packs and pouches full of treats that they’d won in a game the previous night. Why is it that Luck had caressed them then, only to fatally betray them hours later? 

No, his betting days were behind him… and then there was you.   

Now? He’d have bet everything he ever owned that your hair was the softest the universe had ever seen. Even after hours of fervent frolicking between the sheets, your bodies entwining with the desperate desire to reacquaint after so many rotations apart, and each strand having been tugged, bunched, knotted and tossed in the name of a passionate routine so mesmerizing that time itself seemed to pause, it still felt like silk draped between his fingers. 

He’d have wagered every credit in the galaxy that history had never seen a hand fit more perfectly into another like yours fit into his. It was as if the Maker had initially sculpted your bodies as one, only to have it fall from Mortis and fracture, the pieces seamlessly fitting together to reestablish his physical rendering of love. 

And he’d have bet that, in all the systems he’d traversed, none of them orbited a sun even remotely as radiant as the twinkle in your eye. A luminescence shining from deep inside of you unrivaled by any charted celestial body; a lighthouse that he was all-too willing to let endlessly guide him into your embrace… back home. 

Definity now seemed attainable. He had never been surer of anything or anyone in his entire life, and such a certainty had been achieved without the memorization of manuals, and without the aid of instructions, tactics, or strategy. Embedded with the impenetrable protection of your belief in him, his shield now seemed the perfect match for redirecting every potential blow of Lady Luck’s unpredictable tantrums; his irrefutable love for you unwavering despite the external chaos. 

But always a double edged sword, the 'distraction' of your love ensured that the undoubtability of your union walked hand-in-hand with unpredictability… with fear and anxiety. The monster of mortality, while frequently concealed behind dense clouds of bliss and enamoring twinkles of light, was never again truly absent from Echo’s awareness, and the harrowing chirp of a deployment transmission ringing from his wristcom acted as a stark reminder that the monster was always waiting patiently for an opportunity to rob the universe of such beauty.     

“What’s on your mind, love?” you would ask in those moments, when the surging heat of your frenzied entanglement subsided and the stillness of the night exposed his resurging anxiety. But your query needn’t ever be spoken; the cause of the deepening crease between his brows and the frown tugging at his lips was a mystery to no one, and part of him wondered if you only uttered the question aloud knowing that the sound of your voice would soothe him in a way that nothing else could.

“You are, Cyare,” he would always answer, too aware that the unnatural smile hitched to his lips would provoke nothing but a skeptical cock of your eyebrow, yet too willing to deny his fear its chance in the light.   

This routine transpired only a handful of times before you’d successfully pulled the truth from him, his desire to remain a pillar of strength simply no match for the knowing twinkle in your eye, its majesty quickly summoning the anxiety from the depths of his gut and out past his lips.

The truth finally spoken: that he was scared to lose each other, to lose you, intensely fearful that every sorrowful departure preceding a deployment would be the last. His tactical mind was painfully aware that the probabilities of him safely returning home varied largely from one mission to the next, the chances laced with a risk that was incalculable… unpreparable despite his every effort.  

But even fatality seemed a welcome alternative to his greatest fear of all: that he would return home from a long deployment to find the twinkle banished from your eyes, that he would find a person no longer blind to the fact that a life built on the shoulders of a soldier was one laden with an unavoidable and potent neglect, and that you’d become a person no longer willing to suffer the solitude that accompanied his absence.  

“I’m not going anywhere, Echo,” you would always reassure him. “It’s you and me, my love. Until the end of the universe.”

The mantra never lost its purity despite how often you chorused it to him with your fingers intertwined tightly between his, or your forehead pressed to his in a motion of complete connection, but tonight felt… different. Despite your recited promise and the intimate swaddle of your body around his, Echo could not shake the feeling of dread simmering in his gut. 

“What is it?” you probed in barely more than a whisper, your hands stalling their thoughtless swirls atop his skin, fingers instead nestling themselves between the swells of his heaving chest. 

“Nothing, Mesh’la.” He couldn’t quite quantify the intensity of his anxieties tonight, for even unspoken they seemed baseless and irrational. How could he express that the gnawing of his upcoming deployment felt more formidable this time, when he knew his words would serve no purpose other than plaguing you with worry? He had no desire to let his malignant fears rob you of the listful peace that he so badly longed for in these moments. 

You hummed quietly, toes shifting to gently glide along the top of his foot, the sensation grounding him enough to tighten his grasp around your shoulders. “I’m not going to call you a liar,” you snorted as you nuzzled into his side, “but it kinda smells like your pants might be on fire.” 

He should have expected such a response; you’d always been quick to wit, quick to humour, quick to ensure that, even in the enshadowed bedroom where the only light came from the patchwork quilt of a million other windows scattered from here to the horizon, he felt utterly seen. 

A small sigh stalled his explanation, his plagued mind still attempting to grapple for some semblance of justification. “I don’t know,” he posed, pausing to press his lips to your forehead, the familiar fragrance of your hair wafting into his nose easing only a fraction of his worry. “Something feels… weird. I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go amiss during this next one.” 

“Sounds like a bad case of the ‘send-off scaries’,” you chuckled, shifting your head on his shoulder to watch your fingers resume their mindless doodles across his skin.

“No, Mesh’la,” he protested, the ghost of misunderstood frustration dancing across his tense features as he retracted his arm from around you and pushed himself into a seated position. “It’s more than that, but… I can’t explain it.” 

You shifted your posture to mirror his, scooping his hands into yours and squeezing his palms tightly to prevent him from shielding his face. “Perhaps it’s because this one is a little riskier than some of the others?” you proposed, trying to catch the eyes that he’d deliberately averted from you. “You were saying the Citadel is pretty heavily fortified, right? Maybe it’s the fact that the archive maps are dated and incomplete that has you a little more anxious than usual.” 

“Yeah… maybe,” he sighed solemnly, only barely resisting the urge to shake his head and argue.  

“You and Fives are an unshakable team,” you persisted. “Especially with Rex and the General beside you. You all have an innate call to protect each other. Just have faith… trust your instincts. They’ve never led you astray, my love. In fact–” a gentle guiding finger under his chin pulled his anguished gaze back to you, “–they led you right to me.” 

There it was, dancing in your eyes as if fueled by starlight, the twinkle that reminded him time-and-time-again that nothing could rob him of his home… of his home in you.

“You’re right, Cyare,” he conceded, leaning in to graze his smiling lips against yours. “I love you. It’s you and me to the end of the universe.” 

No, he wasn’t anymore… but if he was a betting man, that lingering moment of quiet assurances with breath dancing atop each other's cheeks and lips moving to convey an unspoken message, he’d have wagered that the very stars aligned the night he met you. He’d have bet there wasn’t a force anywhere in this galaxy stronger than his connection to you… and you can bet that if only an ounce of his courage remains intact when he returns home from that wretched fortress, the first place you’ll find him is in your doorway, perched on one knee with a ring in his hand and a plea in his eyes. You can bet that, if Lady Luck’s cold shoulder ever robbed you of each other, his love for you, and only you, would be a promise more steadfast and unwavering than time itself.

taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations

[spirit-lanterns]

the fact you don’t write non-con or rape? I wanna smooch u 💋💋💋💋

That sounds like the bare minimum but I’ll take the smooch anyways 😌

I have nothing against writers who write dark content or readers who enjoy dark content, I just personally really dislike it so I’d never write for it nor reblog fics with it. Consent is seggsy and I love consent 💕💕

[ncsdlr]

Sandra Pransky - S.J Character

MDNI!! Smut 18+

Warnings: Some crazy seggsy time, Angst(?), Happy ending, x fem!reader, cheating (please don't cheat on people), getting arrested, think that's it ;)

Pairings: Sandra Pransky x fem!reader

Word Count: 1948

AN: I need to get this out of my drafts. it was starting to decay in there.

****

"Holy fucking God!" Sandra's legs stuttered close around your head before shakily opening back up with the help of your strong hands. Her fingers curled around your hair, pulling every so often, too consumed by the pleasure you were gifting her to emit anything else other than incoherent praises and pathetic moans.

You groaned when Sandra pulled at your hair a little too roughly, the pain and pleasure bringing an ache to your core which then made your upgraded strap-on twitch. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

"Yeah? You coming, baby?" Sandra nodded her head rapidly, squeaking out a breath of 'Yes' when you suddenly pushed your fingers into her core. "Then cum. Cum on my face."

At your command, Sandra let herself cover the entirety of your face with her delicious cum. Your tongue randomly lapped at her tattered core, making the girl above you writhe and pull you up by your hair all the while her legs shook at your sides. You kissed her in earnest, slowing down the previously fast pace of your fingers drilling into her core.

Then all of a sudden, Sandra let out a breathy yelp as you pulled her hips up and flipped her onto her stomach. "Think you can take my cock, little girl?"

"Oh, yes, please." You pulled her head up in an awkward position to look at you with one hand while your other hand dug the rubber dick along the blonde's slick cunt. Swiftly, you pushed your hips forward, burying your girthy strap within Sandra's soaking depths. Your pace was tough and fast, but gentle at the same time. The blonde woman was loving every second of this, the knowledge bring a cocky smirk to your lips. "I think someone's enjoying herself."

"You fucking bet." Your Sandra gasped as your fingers toyed with her clit from beneath her, her head going limp and falling forward into the sheets. Every push and pull of your hips made the blonde in your bed moan louder into the thick-aired room.

You reached forward and grab a fistful of your Sandra's hair, pulling her up with that leverage to husk in her ear, fucking her slowly now, but not pulling out, just humping and grinding into her, "You're such a fucking whore. Filthy girl, nothing but a little cock-hungry slut for me, aren't you?" You felt the slight pull-away Sandra did with her head, indicating her nodding in response to your question that did nothing to stop the continuous gush of wetness at her stretched hole. "Oh, baby. You're going to have to speak up for me to understand what you're saying. I mean, you do remember our playtime rules, right, baby?"

Sandra's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she mewled when your strap hit that spot inside her that had her reeling in pleasure and teetering at the edge of her orgasm, then rushing to speak as she somewhat remembered her duty to respond to your tauntingly unnecessary questions.

"Yes, yes! Your cock-hungry slut, your slut, yours only- holy, I'm gonna cum. Can I cum?" Sandra's shaky way of asking you for permission to cum had you groaning under your breath. You almost took pity on her when she whined at your lack of response, already cursing you in her head for being so unfair.

Why should she have to reply to you verbally when you rarely ever did to her?

But alas, being the good girl she is, she begged you for what she knew she deserved.

"Please, please! Let me cum, please!"

"On the count of ten, mon amour."

You heard her whine before she next spoke in a whispered plea, "Please, count fast." You darkly chuckled at her and pushed her face into the pillow before her when you began rubbing tighter, pleasurable circles on her throbbing clit, now doing sharp pull-outs then thrusting back in quickly.

"Ten." you extended the 'e', emphasizing the fact that you were not to comply with Sandra's pleas, the action only making Sandra's need to cum more intense.

"Please, Y/N!" Her almost whispered begging made you coo at her.

"Oh, baby. You're adorable." You continued your countdown, only reaching to six when the blonde next whined at your aggravatingly slow counting.

"Please, please, please! I feel like if you don't let me cum anytime soon I'll explode."

"We can't have that, now can we?" She whispered a bold no. "Five, four, three, two-"

You fondled Sandra's soft breasts as you counted down to one and felt her shudder with a loud scream once her orgasm tore right through her.

"You fuck me so good, Y/N." You felt how Sandra slightly went limp in your arms, so you resorted to pushing her head down on the sheets and continuing to fuck her.

Your thrusts reached deep into the blonde, slow and shallow. "You wanna be a good girl and let me fuck you until you use your safe word, honey?"

"Yes, yes, please. I wanna be a good girl- Oh!" Your thrusts became fast, more hasty, and hurried than your once slow pace thus catching Sandra off guard. You muttered out praise to Sandra whilst you ran your hands up and down her back as if a way to soothe the close-to-sobbing girl. You then gripped her hips, using that leverage to pull her back against your thrusts.

Sandra was near sobbing as she came once more with an almost whisper of your name. She sighed as you harshly twisted her body to lay on her back. You dove into her pussy, lapping at all that was there, causing the beauty above you to moan brutally.

Sandra let out a whine as you pulled away from her core, going to speak up before being cut off by a silent scream, her mouth clenching closed. Your fingers drilled into her as if searching for something you'd lost within her. You continued thrusting your fingers into the beautiful woman below you, even as she started cumming, her juices contained in your fast-moving hand.

Sandra adjusted her position, leaning on her elbows while gripping the sheets with a force that could almost rip through them. Her gaze remained on her leaking cunt, your fingers still drilling into her. Then you finally pulled your fingers out, cupping her cum as you did, watching Sandra breathe heavily.

"Open your mouth." You commanded. You watched her heave before doing as she was told, opening her mouth wide enough for you to pour her cum into her waiting mouth.

"Good girl. Now, swallow."

Sandra made a show of following your orders, opening her mouth and showing you her tongue as proof that she'd swallowed her own cum.

"You want more of that? You want to cum for me more, little girl?" Sandra nodded. "Yeah?"

"Please."

"Your such a fucking whore, Sandra. Lots would think you'd be tapping out by now. With the number of times you've cum already, most expect that you would have had enough, but no; you're different. You're such a fucking cum slut, Sandra."

You plunged your finger within her again, beginning your onslaught upon her sweet pussy.

Sandra's first few moans were loud, then as she started cumming, one right after the other, her moans turned to silent screams. Her head fell back, her mouth stayed agape, and her beautiful eyes were tightly closed. You didn't even need to tell Sandra to open her mouth this time. She simply did so, much to your appeal.

"Such an obedient little girl." You smacked both sides of her face with your cum-soaked hand knowing just how much she loved mixing pain with pleasure.

Sandra writhed as she sucked in much-needed air into her burning lungs. You leaned in to kiss her, holding her face in your hand tightly as you did so. "Oh, baby. I'm going to make you feel so good."

****

The sun was just about to set, the golden glow of the sun shining on Sandra just right from where she rode you relentlessly near the foot of the bed. Sandra had both of her hands on her knees before she moved one of them to her throbbing clit. She was panting above you, yet she strived to bounce on your cock with precision.

"Oh, baby. You look so beautiful like this." You held onto her waist tightly, controlling her relentless bouncing and guiding her up and down your strap. "So obedient. It's too bad you're too stupid for him. My dumb whore."

Sandra mewled at your degradation, but, at the same time, your words pinched her heart. She knew of your faithful and undeniable love for her yet she was still tied to her relationship with your older brother, Peter Lyman. You both knew you loved each other, but you also both knew your brother would be heartbroken if was he supposed to find out his beloved girlfriend was in love with his sister.

Y/L Lyman.

Sandra's beloved.

But neither of you could think about that right now. Because right now, Sandra was busy bouncing on your thick cock.

"Please, I'm gonna cum." Sandra shakily informed you of her current state whilst you laid there nonchalantly, only helping her ride you with your hands tightly holding her fast-moving hips.

You watched Sandra's face contort with immense pleasure, noting how her usually light green eyes now held a darker shade, how her eyes hazily remained on you, how her mouth formed a perfect circle, the way her brows furrowed while you fucked up into her.

You remained watchful, keeping your eyes on hers, watching as tears slowly made their way to her waterline and down the side of her face. "Oh, honey don't cry. I know it feels good and I know you're going to cum, but I'm gonna need you to hold that in for me."

Your faux pity on her made her whine, but obeying your orders, not wanting to push you, and find out what you might do to her if she was to push you into letting her cum.

Sandra continued to bounce with the help of your strong hands. You were simply too strong for her to control her own movements, so instead, she resorted to laying on your chest and pushing back against your thrusts. You held her close at that, having wrapped one arm around her waist and up her shoulder and the other still holding her hip, controlling her bouncing.

It felt like ages for Sandra before you allowed her to cum, and once she did, her scream was most definitely heard throughout your home. You held her as she heaved to calm herself down, rubbing her back up and down and running your fingers through her hair. Then the next moment when she spoke, you were surprised, to say the least.

"I'm leaving him. I want you."

****

You watched from the doorstep of your brother's private lakeside home as he was pulled away into a cop car beside a soaked Sandra. You had your hands in your pockets as you stared on while the current affairs took place. Your eyes followed the cop car as it drove away with Peter inside, then moved your focus to the officer who handed Sandra a towel to wrap around herself.

"That must suck for him."

You peered at the blonde beside you, the one who loosely wrapped her arms around you, "Truly. So, does this mean you're finally wholly mine?"

"Yes, Y/N. I'm yours wholly. No more restraints." Your Sandra smiled at you in the sweetest way and you could almost swear that you fell in love with Sandra more at that moment. And after a beat for a second, you admitted to yourself that you have always been in love with the woman. Ever since you met her when your brother introduced you to each other.

"I love you, Sandra."

"My Y/N, I love you too."

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 19

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, best friend's younger brother ✨ playlist | ✨ if you haven't read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n: y'all, we're getting closer and closer to the ending of their story :( :( there's one last chapter and an epilogue T_T i'm sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out. i was stuck on it for the longest time bc ya know, i suuuuck at writing seggsy things, but i hope y'all enjoy it anyway. there were a few words left for me to use, so you'll see them in bold (we also have one more line, but we'll save that until the end hehe. iykyk). and as always, please like, reblog, scream (or not) at me, send me asks. i love it all. i hope you're all doing well.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 20 ~ ending credits

chapter nineteen ~ together again | wc: 9.7k warnings: we’re back to fluffy, domestic shit 😭 (finally), they love and miss each other so much, again—lots of talking and conversations (with yoongi, yuna, namjoon), bamie is a big boy and goes on a flight, lots of hugs, kisses, touching (what else is new), our TIU babies are being grown ass adults and sharing their feelings (whutttt—who are they? like the character growth? i’m sobbing), references to jk’s weverse lives, mentions of death, language smut warnings: i am sorry (not sorry) for all the seven references, protected sex (they haven’t been with anyone else since they broke up, but they’re being safe, and to our surprise, it’s kook’s suggestion), jk is a lil dommy, use of lube, dirty talk, oral (f. receiving), fingering (from the front and behind—don’t judge me), titty sucking, kissing, groping, overstimulation (i blame his weverse live), one small convo during seggs, a lil pussy slapping, lil spanks, light light light anal play (don’t judge me—he just puts his thumb on it….), jk wants to savor every moment with oc, but she's needy af

~ Three weeks later ~

The Netflix meeting in LA was a bust, but you wouldn’t let it bring you down. At least Kenji was courteous enough to call you and apologize about his friend. He thought he was doing you a favor but hadn’t realized how slimy Zach was.

The brunch tradition continued with Hyunie, Tae, and Yoongi, but this time, Hyunie didn’t want to host and suggested going out. You didn’t mind at all. It would be nice to get out of the house and get some fresh air.

And as usual, the married couple was running late. You greeted Yoongi, taking a seat beside him. His hair had grown a significant amount since you last saw him. It suited him well, you thought.

“Nice ring,” he said, gawking at the diamond-encrusted jewelry on your fourth finger.

You still needed to get used to it—sometimes, you forgot you had it on. “Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, tucking your hand underneath your thigh. This was the first time you saw Yoongi since leaving for LA, and you were sure he would crack down on what happened.

“I’m guessing you didn’t want to live with the ‘what ifs’ and called lover boy.” He smirked, and a light chuckle left his lips. Honestly, he called it—knew you couldn’t resist, was too lovesick over him just to give up so easily.

“Actually, I didn’t call him. We kind of just—found each other.” And you weren’t lying! You didn’t reach out to him, had no idea you’d bump into him.

Yoongi holds the butter knife upright in his hand, pushing the tip into the blush pink napkin. “Found each other, huh?” he said with disbelief laced in his tone as he looked at you.

You hummed in agreement when your eyes met his. He slowly nodded, not believing a word coming out of your mouth.

“What?” you asked, annoyed at your friend.

He shrugged, putting the butter knife down. “I didn’t say anything.”

You deadpanned. “You didn’t have to. Your face said it all.”

Before your LA trip, you were wavering between what to do and ultimately decided not to call Jungkook. It wasn’t your fault you happened to be at the same hotel at the same time. One might call it destiny.

He wanted to humor you. “Okay—what did my face say then?”

You gawked at him. “That you think I’m dumb for going back to someone who cheated on me.”

“Damn, I’m kind of harsh,” he laughed.

You pursed your lips and nudged his shoulder. “Just be happy for me.”

Yoongi scoffed. “I didn’t say anything, and you’re putting words into my mouth.” You wave him off. “Didn’t I tell you that whatever decision you made would be the right one? You obviously chose one way, and the universe chose another.”

You couldn’t help but dramatically gasp, hand on your chest. “Does Min Yoongi believe in destiny? What’ve you done with the grumpy grandpa persona?”

His upper lip raises in annoyance. “He didn’t go anywhere. He’s still here.” He straightens his blueberry milk grandpa-colored cardigan.

“I can’t wait for you to meet him,” you said, sipping your water. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He just grunts. “You’ll like him; you will.” He grunts again, finally breaking into a smile.

“I’m happy for you. I’m glad you guys are back together.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, so I can fucking stop hearing about you complain and be all googly eyes for him all the time.”

You playfully shove him. “Shut up. I did not talk about him that much.”

“You shut up, and yes, you did,” Yoongi spat back, cocking his head.

The two of you continued to bicker, nudging and shoving until Kim Taehyung interrupted, “Yah, yah, yah! What are you two fighting about?”

“Nothing!” The two of you said in unison.

If there was one person’s opinion you came to respect within the last year, it was Yoongi’s. You appreciated that he was always willing to listen, even though you sometimes felt he didn’t want to—regardless, he was still a good friend and did it anyway. You loved how straightforward he was and didn’t have many friends who could be gentle, supportive, and direct. You were happy he had unexpectedly come into your life when you needed someone the most.

The remote had become your best friend these last few days. You didn’t want to start a new drama in case it disappointed you, so you opted for your favorite: Start-Up.

Almost a year later, not having watched it. You had forgotten how much it made you kick your feet, giggle, and cry an ocean of tears. Rewatching these episodes just made you fall more in love with Bae Suzy and Nam Joo-hyuk, and maybe you were feeling all mushy gushy because you and Jungkook rekindled your romance.

The tissue you had in hand had become damp when you wiped away your tears again. It was the fifth one, and you were only halfway through the episode when your phone started buzzing.

When you saw ‘boyfie’ light up on the screen, you wiped any mascara that smudged and fixed your hair before answering. You didn’t want him thinking you were crying because of him.

“Hello?”

The screen is fairly dim from Jungkook’s end. All you could hear was him groaning before he croaked out a ‘hi.’

You giggled, checking the time on your phone. “Isn’t it early for you?”

“Too early,” he replied, carding his hand through his fluffy hair to get a better look at you. He moves the phone closer, narrowing his eyes. “Are you crying? Why are you crying?” He shifted into an upright position against the headboard.

“I’m just watching Start-Up. I promise. No one made me cry.” He had a look of relief on his face before he slumped down onto his pillow. “Kook, go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.”

Jungkook shook his head and pouted. “I’m fine, baby. I missed you. That’s why I called.” He slumped further down the bed, pulling the duvet underneath his chin. “I’m pretending this blanket is you.” He nuzzled his face into it.

He missed you that much, huh? Well, you missed him and couldn’t wait to be with him again. You didn’t know how people could have long distance relationships, three weeks was really too long for anyone to be apart.

“You’re such a dummy.”

“Your dummy?” he asks with a close-lipped smile.

You hummed. “My dummy.”

Seeing Jungkook so cozy and snuggled up made you want to do the same. You grabbed a throw blanket that was settled into a basket next to the couch. Your attention went back to Jungkook, who looked like he had fallen asleep. You rolled your eyes because you had told him just to sleep.

“Boyfie?”

Jungkook groaned and inhaled a deep breath before popping up with sleepy eyes. “Yeah, baby?”

You weren’t going to lie. Him calling you baby and you calling him boyfie was making your insides all tangled up. “Go to sleep. Dream some good dreams, okay?”

“My dream is right in front of me. I don’t need to dream.”

You shifted your position, leaning back on a throw pillow, legs spread across the couch. “Were you always this cheesy?”

“Only when I’m with you,” he mumbled into the blanket again as he dozed off.

At this point, you were happy you didn’t have anything lined up for you because your new job was making sure this baby star candy didn’t fall asleep with a candle lit or something. But good thing you also had Bamie on your side. He would surely come to the rescue of his owner and their crazy antics.

“Baby,” he grumbled, looking at his screen.

You answer softly, ‘Yeah’, snuggling yourself into the blanket, the little screen of your boyfie in front of you.

“I put in my two weeks' notice at work and told my landlord about breaking my lease.”

He had discussed moving back, and you felt guilty for him having to do so. It would’ve been easier for you to move out there, granted, LA was the place to live if you wanted more writing opportunities, but he insisted he wanted to be near family and friends.

“I feel bad,” you admit.

Jungkook perks up, shifting against his headboard again. “What? Why? Please don’t feel bad. I want to move back.”

“I know, but I feel like I’m taking you away from your life, and then you have to bring Bamie on such a long flight too, then you’ll have to start over—find a new job, a new place.” You could continue listing many things, but you decided to stop overthinking.

“I’m not worried about finding a new job. I’ll probably talk to my old boss and see if they have anything open for me. And in terms of a new place, I could just stay with you.”

You visibly gulped when he said that. “Like move in with me?”

Jungkook pouts, nervously toying with his lip ring. “Do you not want that?” he asked with apprehension in his voice.

“I, um, I mean, don’t you think my place is too small for Bam?” You have had your apartment for the longest time since graduating college. Even when you were with Kenji and U-jin, you were always at their place because it was bigger, but when you were with Jungkook, it always felt like home, just big enough for the two of you, and you didn’t think Bamie would like how small your place was. He was a big pup and deserved something better than your dinky little apartment.

“We could just get a new place together,” Jungkook suggested nonchalantly, like there was no weight to his words.

You squint your eyes. “Jeon Jungkook, is this your subtle way of asking me to move in with you?”

Jungkook chuckled. “I can’t get anything past you, huh? But yes, it makes sense, right?” He had been sitting on the thought since discussing wanting to move back. It wouldn’t make sense to go back and forth between two apartments.

“I mean, yeah, you were practically living here anyway, and I’d want Bamie to have someplace where he could have more space.” Bamie was a big boy, and you wanted him to be comfortable too.

“So,” Jungkook’s smile grew, “We’re moving in together?”

You stared blankly at your boyfie. “You technically didn’t ask me yet.”

He cleared his throat. “Babe, baby, sweetheart, the love of my life. Will you move in with me?”

Love of his life, hmm? You could get used to him saying that. You sighed. “I don’t know. You’re kind of a messy guy,” you teased.

Jungkook scoffed. “Me? Messy? Have you seen my apartment? It’s spotless—”

“Kook! I’m kidding. I know you’re the cleaning and laundry fairy—and yes, I would love to move in with you.” You knew moving in with Jungkook would mean you wouldn’t be allowed to clean or do your own laundry again. But that was a good trade-off, right?

He giggled, slumping from his sitting position onto his side. “I can’t wait. This’ll be so much fun.”

Although Jungkook had slept at your place almost 24/7 when you were together, you wouldn’t be aware of his late-night cooking and karaoke sessions until much later.

You purse your lips and roll your eyes. “I’ll start looking for places today, so everything will be ready by the time you arrive.”

“Perfect.”

Moving in together was a big step, and you didn’t want to overanalyze this choice. If you and Jungkook were still together, you figured at one point or another, the natural progression in a relationship would be to move in. This decision felt good, it felt right.

You were moving the last of your boxes, ensuring everything would go smoothly before Jungkook and Bamie’s arrival. Your phone ringtone goes off; of course, it’s the boyfie.

“Hey,” you answered. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I, um, I couldn’t sleep, so I called.”

You knew he had an early flight returning to Seoul in a few hours and wondered why he was still up. “Too excited, hmm?” you chuckled.

His soft chuckle made it seem like something else was on his mind. “Something like that.”

“I’m kidding, boyfie. Tell me what’s on your mind,” you asked as you sat on the floor against the empty white wall. The apartment seemed spacious with nothing in it but you and a few boxes.

Jungkook sighed. “This is gonna sound stupid.”

“Come on, you can tell me. We talked about being open, right?”

“Um, remember when you were here, and we were talking, and you said you almost let someone you know in a bathroom?”

You didn’t mean to laugh aloud, but you couldn’t help it. “That’s what’s keeping you up? A distant memory of me almost sleeping with some guy?” You shuddered thinking about that moment–boy, you were really unhappy, weren’t you? But you understood where he was coming from, though. You were sure he was just curious.

“Yeah…”

“You’re adorable,” you teased, shaking your head and wanting to kiss him through the phone.

“Shut it,” he grumbled, burying his face into his duvet.

“You’re so cute. I just wanna pinch your cheeks. I’ll be sure to do so when you get here. My cutie patootie wittle bunny is jealous I almost slept with someone,” you giggled. You always knew Jungkook was the jealous type. He wouldn’t even let Namjoon help you with peeling a perilla leaf–what a weirdo.

“Okay—I’m hanging up now,” he said.

“No, no, no. I’m kidding. What about it?” His little spurt of jealousy was too hard not to joke about.

“Um, have you slept with anyone else since we broke up?”

“No,” you answered quickly. Even if you wanted to, your mind and heart was full of Jeon Jungkook and no one else would even be able to take your mind off him. “He was the closest thing to me sleeping with anyone, but other than that, I haven’t slept with anyone. What about you?”

“Oh, no—you were my last,” he says confidently, like it was a flex.

“Oh—” It’s not like you were expecting him to say Alex, but you were expecting him to say Alex. It only made sense since you thought she was a big reason for him leaving. You had convinced yourself he had run back to her.

“What?” he asked, piquing his interest.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just thought—”

“You just thought I would’ve slept with someone?” There were plenty of opportunities at company functions or when he was out with Jimin and Lana, but it just didn’t feel the same for him. He didn’t want a one night stand. He wanted to be in love, have one person consume every single fiber of his being, overtake him, and if none of them were you, then no one could have him.

You didn’t want to name names and Jungkook already mentioned that Alex left the company. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, have you seen yourself in the mirror?” Obviously, you wanted to jump his bones the moment you saw him in LA, and it was so fucking hard not to tempt him into staying at the hotel with you that night.

He laughed. “Well, I just hope that means I can fuck you when I see you,” he confessed, licking his lips and winking.

“Jeon Jungkook!”

“What? I know you’re thinking the same thing. You’re the one that wanted to tear off my clothes.”

Now you wish you didn’t say anything to him about that. You mumbled something indistinct, not clear enough for him to hear. “Good god—”

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about my dick in your tight little cunt,” he said in such a confident tone.

You gasped because cocky, bratty Jungkook was back and in full swing. “Okay—goodbye—go to sleep! You have a long day of travel ahead of you!”

Jungkook couldn’t help getting in a few last words. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on your—”

You quickly ended the video call. Your pussy clenched around nothing, just thinking about Jungkook being inside you again, having his lips on your waist, his hands tracing your lines. Fuck. You might just have to break out the vibrator tonight.

Not a moment later, you received a text.

boyfie 11:35 PM you didn’t let me finish…

you 11:35 PM i’ll let you show me when you get here.

you 11:36 PM goodnight! see you soon.

Jungkook gazed at the airport’s glossy marble flooring, staring off into space while holding a bouquet of white and yellow chamomile. His flight landed earlier than expected, and picking up Bam from baggage claim was effortless. He sat in a trance, wanting to pinch himself. Was this real? Was he sitting at Incheon airport waiting for you to pick him up?

He must’ve done something good in his past life, had an angel looking out for him, or after making wishes on shooting stars, his own finally aligned back to you.

How he missed home so much. The familiarity of the city was indelible. No way to remove it from his body–he was made for Seoul.

Bam sat beside Jungkook, waiting patiently, watching people pass them by. He would show excitement whenever Jungkook mentioned your name–his tail wagging, tongue out, and panting. He was just as eager as Jungkook to see you again.

You cursed the car that took your spot even though you had signaled, indicating you were there first, but you wanted to avoid getting into an accident or tussle before picking up Jungkook and Bamie–it was the last thing you wanted.

When you walked through the sliding glass doors and up the escalators, there he was, Jeon Jungkook—the love of your life, the one who made your heart flutter, the one you couldn’t live without. He was here in the flesh, and this wasn’t a dream you’d have to wake up from.

You stood, not moving an inch, wanting to capture this moment. The pair of you had gone through so much to get to where you are, and mistakes were made along the way, but you believed the best was yet to come.

He was sitting, daydreaming like usual, with a bouquet in hand, and when he finally broke out of his daze, he stood, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot in love. Bam stood on all fours looking up at Jungkook, waiting to see if he’d give him the okay to go toward you, but Jungkook never did.

The two of you stood smiling and smitten, enamored, being in this place of a love that was never lost but only put on pause. It was like a scene out of a movie, where the long, lost lovers finally reunite and get their happy ending.

You raced to him, jumping into his arms, making him drop the bouquet. Cupping his face, you placed kisses all over. All the while, Bam barked in excitement at the sight of you.

“Someone’s excited to see me,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist.

“You have no idea.” You leaned down, capturing his lips with yours, pulling him closer, inhaling all of him, wanting to give yourself as an offering, but remembering that you were still in public and it’d have to wait.

Bam whined, looking up with his big doe eyes. Jungkook set you down. You kneeled to him, cupping his cute face. “I didn’t forget about you, Bamie,” you said before he licked your face.

You stood to kiss Jungkook again, wrapping your arms around his neck, not giving two fucks who was around or if anyone was watching. The love of your life was back, and no one could stop you from showing your devotion to him.

“God–I missed you. These last few weeks have been torture.” You’d spend every waking minute thinking about what he was doing, counting down every second until you’d see him again.

Jungkook giggled. “I could get used to this. You telling me how much you love and miss me.” He quite liked the attention and affection.

You suppose you were never the type to show this much adoration in public, but you were ready to stand on top of a building and shout to the entire world how much you loved this man. Be one of those girlfriends who captured every moment of their partner and gushed about them on social media during every made-up romantic holiday.

“I love you,” you whispered, your chin digging into his chest as you looked at him.

He hummed. “I thought I’d never hear that again,” he admitted. Since leaving for LA, he had given up hearing those three words from you.

“You’ll hear it as long as you’ll have me.”

Jungkook pulled back, both hands gently cupping your face, his starry eyes staring into yours. With a soft smile, he uttered, “I want you forever.”

Blindfolds had become a running joke between you, and you couldn’t help but continue the silly tradition. You wanted to surprise Jungkook with the new apartment, and blindfolding him was the only way to keep this secret, right?

Jungkook shuffled down the hallway, his hands out in case he ran into anything, and Bam followed his parents, tilting his head at the curious pair. Bam alarmed Jungkook by barking when he almost ran into the door.

When everyone was through the threshold, you took off his blindfold, ready for him to hopefully love this new place where you’d be creating new memories together.

Jungkook’s jaw dropped, peering around the room—from the floor to the ceiling to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. He knew you made some good money but not this good.

“How—how did you find this place? It couldn’t have been cheap, baby.” He walked around the living room, picking up a frame that held a photo of you, him, Yuna, and Namjoon at their wedding. It was one of your first photos together as a couple.

“I know someone,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows.

When you mentioned having to look for a new place to the brunch crew, Yoongi swooped in to save the day because he had a friend who was a realtor, and they happened to have a vacant place ready for move-in.

“Are you sure we can afford this place?” he asked.

You chuckled at his hesitancy. “I got a good deal on it. Don’t worry.” Jungkook narrowed his eyes and huffed. “Come on, let me show you around,” you said, holding your hand.

This place was enticing due to the enclosed balcony, nearby restaurants and shopping, plus the orangeade lavender skies at dusk pretty much sealed the deal for you.

You had set up the perfect little area for Bam, ensuring it would feel like home with cozy new toys and his favorite chews. He didn’t even make a fuss and walked straight into his crate, snuggling up in his soft blanket.

“Well, that was easy,” you tease, thinking it’d be harder for him to adjust. But maybe the jet lag took a toll on the big guy.

“I’m gonna shower. Wash the long day off of me,” Jungkook said, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek. You uttered a soft ‘kay,’ letting him go on his way.

While he was singing away in the shower, enjoying the warm steam from the waterfall shower head, you were running around the bedroom to find the perfect outfit for bed. You didn’t know his plans, but you were ready to fuck him—every hour, every minute, every second for the next seven days. Anything was possible with Jeon Jungkook.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you had finally chosen your outfit. It was minimal and easily discardable. Jungkook opened the bathroom door, ruffling his damp hair with a white towel, beads of water falling onto his honey skin, trailing down the expanse of his broad chest toward that silver piece of jewelry still pierced into his nipple. It took a moment for him to realize you were ogling him.

Your eyes never left his as he walked to you, sitting so prettily on the bed in one of his oversized t-shirts with nothing but lacy panties underneath. Pointing your toes, you swiveled your feet in front of you, pretending to play dumb, your hands leaning back on the bed. “So…”

You feel the softness of the white towel hanging so fucking low on his slutty waist when he knocks into your knees, spreading your legs apart. Your desire grows when you feel the heat radiating off his leg—it pierces straight to your core.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes, letting out a small breath as you leaned into his touch. His fingers softly grazed your cheek, scanning your features, thinking how beautiful you are. “So—what should we do now?” he asked, lifting your chin so you could focus on him.

Your eyes flutter open, peering through your lashes at this drop-dead gorgeous man. With a small grin, you asked, “Mm, I don’t know. What should we do?” Your hands flew to the towel, tugging it so his waist was more visible. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his waist, hoping it would ease his mind, alluding to what you wanted–him.

Jungkook’s hands become entangled in your hair as you gently unravel the towel from his body and trail kisses toward his navel. His heart races, his skin tingling all over his body when your lips lead further to his growing erection.

Just as he thinks you’ll continue, you cease all contact, flashing a smirk as you look at him. “Weren’t you gonna show me what you were gonna put your mouth on?” you teased, licking your lips.

He grinned, leaning down, forcing you to lay on the bed, legs spread as he slotted between them. The warmth from his body radiated as he hovered, his hand gripping your waist and the other propping himself up. He couldn’t wait to explore you again, wondering if you were still ticklish when he kissed your shoulders or if he traced your lines, would your skin create goosebumps from his touch?

“Are you gonna show me or just stare at me all night?”

“Both,” he said, kissing your lips, then your cheek, trailing down the column of your neck. He slid his hand underneath the oversized shirt covering what he wanted, pushing it up to reveal the black lacy panties and your bare chest. You helped him by pulling the shirt over your head, exposing your naked body to his lust-filled eyes. Hands traveling across the expanse of your stomach to your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. His tattooed hand kneads the soft mound, eyes never leaving you.

As he advances to the already wet mess between your legs, your body arches into him. You had been thinking about fucking him all day and even felt tempted to pull out your vibrator, but who fucking needs that when you have Jeon Jungkook to get the job done?

His eyes flickered up, and he wasn’t doing much to you, but he had missed hearing your sweet gasps and whimpers.

The anticipation of what he’s gonna do has you spiraling into a deep abyss, and you’d keep falling if he didn’t bring you back. His lips pressed kisses into your thighs, his hands spreading your legs wider to access that pretty pussy he’d missed so much. If he could, he’d spend hours exploring, teasing, and riling you up, but as much as you needed a release, so did he.

Jungkook spent too many sleepless nights thinking about you. How you’d wrap your legs around him, whine and moan as you rode him, his hands guiding you, spanking you, gripping each and every part of you.

“Kook,” you mewled, almost out of breath. He looked up and hummed. “Do you even remember what I like?” you teased him.

He chuckled. “Let me show you how well I remember.” His finger toyed with the lacy fabric, looping through, pulling it higher to see your pussy peeking through it. “Fuck—I can’t wait to taste this pussy again.” He was practically salivating. His cock is so fucking hard he swears he would come if his mouth touched your lips.

He kissed the spot just above your clit, making your body squirm beneath him. Moving your panties to the side, he spread your folds with his fingers. His wet, warm tongue lay flat, licking from your entrance to your clit. Gently, he sucked on the nub, switching between sucking and licking. Repeating this over and over. Every lick, every suck, every kiss dissolves pleasure into your body.

You could feel your arousal mixed with his saliva dripping down your ass and onto your sheets. You may have to change them out seven days a week if he keeps going like this. Your hands raked through his hair, tugging him closer into your pussy, wanting more of him.

Jungkook pulled away, making you groan at the loss. “Turn around, baby.” You do as he asked, flipping onto your stomach. He admires your backside, drooling at your arousal and his saliva glistening between your legs. His hands tug off the lacy panties, tossing them aside with no care in the world. Now your ass was on full display, ready for him to pounce on and devour like the starved man he is.

He crawls onto the bed, gingerly sitting on your legs. His hands knead and massage the soft flesh of your cheeks. He leans down, kissing your shoulders, making you shudder and whimper as he trails more kisses. His hand reaches underneath you to squeeze your breast, his other hand moving toward your entrance. Jungkook inserts his middle finger, causing a soft groan from you.

“You think you can handle one more?” he whispered into your ear, and you hum in agreement. When he inserts another finger, you muffle your moan into the bed. He moves your hair out of the way. “Mm—I need to hear you, baby.”

“Please,” you begged, trying to rut back onto his fingers. “Please, I need more.”

“I don’t remember you being so needy, baby,” Jungkook teased as he lay beside you. He wanted to watch you come undone because of him. His palm makes a sharp sound against your ass as his fingers curl harder and deeper into your pussy. He’s in knuckle deep, and you’re nothing but a moaning, whining mess. You squeezed your eyes tight, mouth slack, small gasps escaping every time his fingers fuck you harder.

Jungkook removes his fingers from your entrance, gliding back and forth along your slit, just teasing you, wanting you to fucking beg. But he wouldn’t be so mean—he just wanted to take his time with you. Letting every single sensation you had not felt in over a year just wash over you, send you into another plane, another dimension. He wanted your vision to fade to black, let this orgasm be earth-shattering, explosive, making you never forget only he could make you feel this way. No other person would ever come between you again. He’d die before he’d let someone else have you. You were his and his only. He wouldn’t make the mistake of not fighting for you again.

He crawled further toward your ass, pushing your cheeks together so he could slot his hefty dick in between. The sensation makes Jungkook release a guttural groan. He had no fucking idea why he was also teasing himself at this point. He needed to feel his cock being squeezed by your tight walls. Needed to feel like he couldn’t live another day without being inside you.

His leaking tip unexpectedly slips, brushing against your entrance as he’s gliding. The two of you whine in unison at the softest touch. You just want to beg and plead, asking him to fuck you already, but knowing him, he’d tease you even more, prolonging what you really wanted. You’d just have to play along and let him do what he wants—you preferred it anyway.

Jungkook’s tattooed hand guides your waist to shift your position onto your back again. He couldn’t not look at you. Wanted to see you writhe, squirm, fall apart. His fingers are like a magnet, going straight to your pussy. Not one, two, but three fingers inside your cunt, stretching you out, getting you ready for him. You almost think you can’t take it anymore. It’s been too long since you’ve felt him inside you.

He hovers over you again, marking your neck, his free hand fondling your tit, thumb circling your pebbled nipple. All your senses go into overload when he envelopes your other nipple, licking and lapping like there’s no tomorrow. He trails kisses down your center, navel, then to your clit, sucking on it. Switching between circling and making figure 8s, all the while finger fucking you. He looks up, and you’re a mess, just like his saliva dripping down his chin and down to your ass. It’s a lewd show of how much he’s missed your pussy, like it was designed specifically for him.

You clench around his fingers, everything becoming too much for you. Your hands are balling up the sheets as he elicits moan after moan. Lifting your hips off the bed, you rut forward into his hungry mouth. “I’m gonna come.”

Jungkook pulls away and smiles. “I know, baby.” He always knows when you’re close. He could never forget.

Your moan grows louder and louder as he intensifies his speed. The fire pooling in your belly is ready to snap. He had been teasing you for too long, and you couldn’t take it anymore. A surge of waves ripple through your body. You’re quivering, knees shaking, closing in on Jungkook’s head, but he just goes deeper, not stopping. Your pussy is pulsing as he continues to overstimulate you.

You gently push him away, and he tries to go back in. “You thought I was done?” You whine and pout, closing your legs, trying to close off access to you. “I’m not done with you yet,” he said, pulling you toward him. “Just one more baby, you can do it.”

You’re still trying to settle yourself from the first orgasm. You don't know if you can handle another, but you don’t deny him. You’ll just be a crumbling mess throughout the rest of the night.

Jungkook pushes your legs up and buries his head between them again. Your body jolts at the first touch of his lips on your swollen clit. He laps between your folds, and you guide his hand toward your hole, to his surprise. You look down, and his doe eyes are wide, silently asking are you sure? You nod and smile—you know he’s wanted to for the longest time. Reaching the bedside table, you open the drawer handing him a bottle of lube.

He looks between your legs; this is everything he’s wanted. He would live here if he could, set up camp, and never leave. He squeezes a small amount onto his fingers, spreading the lube around your hole. Jungkook’s thumb is pressed lightly onto your hole, causing you to mewl. And as much as he’s wanted this and even dreamt too often about it, maybe he just liked the thought of playing with your hole.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when he stopped. You didn’t think you’d enjoy anything related to anal play, but here you were, relishing in the new sensation. It was definitely something you’d want to explore further with him.

“I, uh, you caught me off guard,” he responds.

You chuckled, never thought you could surprise Jeon Jungkook. “You don’t have to put your finger in, but I like having your thumb against it.”

“You do?”

You hummed. “It feels really good. You can just keep doing that. We can try butt stuff another time after we’ve talked about it more.” There was a look of relief on Jungkook’s face. It was good to know you could still find ways to surprise him.

“I’m sorry,” he confessed.

You shake your head. “Don’t be sorry, boyfie. Come on, I thought you said you weren’t done with me.”

Jungkook grinned, lifting your legs over his shoulders. He dives back in, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He kissed your clit, and then like you wanted, he put his thumb on your hole, causing you to gasp, squeezing your eyes shut at the lightest pressure against it. Your heart pounds obscenely in your chest. Your hands card through his hair, becoming entangled, pushing him further into your pussy.

His warm, wet tongue ravishes this delicacy he’s been missing for over a year. His nose nuzzled into your clit as his tongue delved into your entrance. The combination of his mouth, tongue, nose, and thumb is sending shockwaves to the rest of your body. Your legs are shaking, becoming weaker minute by minute as he continues. You’re intoxicated, dizzy by his devotion to making you collapse.

Jungkook groans against your pussy when he feels your walls contracting. You bite back a moan, knowing you’re close to reaching your peak. You set your legs down when he pulls away, inserting two fingers into your pussy. Saliva is running down his chin, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He has a smug smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you. You’re so delectable. He could spend hours just like this.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he questions while working his way up to you. He’s still knuckling deep in your cunt, wet sounds filling the room. He hovers, leaning down to kiss you. You can taste and smell yourself on him, which pushes you over the edge.

He places his forehead against yours, eyes still open, watching as your hand travels to stimulate your clit, rubbing it in circles to speed along the process. Second orgasms always took a lot longer for you to reach.

Jungkook nuzzles into your neck, mouth latched onto your neck, licking and sucking subtle marks. It’s to show the rest of the world you’re his. All the while, your pussy is swallowing his fingers. You’re on the brink of losing all dignity, all composure. The fire in your belly finds its release as your walls spasm and contract around his fingers. Your legs are trembling and quaking beneath Jungkook, an overwhelming sensation floods from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You’re seeing galaxies overtaking your existence as you finish.

As the pleasure subsides, you try to catch your breath. Jesus Christ, you haven’t even had his dick in you yet, and you’re already wiped out.

Looking over, Jungkook is lying beside you, very pleased with himself for making you come twice already. He turns to you, “Condom?”

You shook your head. “Want you raw.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Baby,” he trailed off. Of course, considering your last scare and health issues, he wanted to feel all of you. He didn’t want to take any risks because the two of you were horny.

He gazed into your eyes. “Condom,” he said firmly. You groaned and pouted, reaching back into the side table drawer for the box of condoms. He couldn’t help but giggle. He had surely missed your eagerness to tempt him otherwise.

You didn’t think you’d find yourself back with Jungkook. You thought destiny had different plans, but everything that happened last year led you back to him. The two of you were different now—more grown up, actually talking and communicating like adults. Telling each other your wants and needs, and you really need him right now.

You’re watching his every move as he rips off the foil, his biceps flexing while rolling the condom on. “Boyfie, what’s taking so long?”

Jungkook smirks, making his way on all four towards you. He props his arms, hovering over you. He can’t believe how beautiful you are, how much he’s missed your touch, your body, the beautiful sounds you make because of him.

He brings his erect cock to your entrance, brushing against your pussy, making you whimper. He slides up and down between your folds, your arousal coating him generously. He watches as your eyes roll back, your mouth slack, soft whines escaping your sweet mouth. He holds his length, slapping it against your sensitive bud.

“Kook, please,” you plead, opening your eyes. You’ve waited long enough.

He places himself in front of your entrance. Your pussy is soaked and slick, ready to go. He gently pushes in the tip, barely scratching your walls, and he pulls out, repeating this torture until you’re squirming, writhing, pulling the sheets. You have to bite your bottom lip to not let out a sob.

Jungkook leaned down. “Wanna hear you beg for it,” he whispered into your ear before biting on your earlobe. His tip is positioned at your sex, ready to penetrate, but not before he has you whining, pleading, imploring for his dick.

You cupped his face, gazing into those starry doe eyes, pulling him down for a kiss. You don’t feel like begging again. Instead, you’d rather make him melt. “I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

As much as he was so fucking horny at this moment. Those three words would completely destroy him in his most vulnerable state.

“I love you too,” he repeats your words.

He decided enough was enough, and there was nothing else to do but actually fuck you. He watches your face overtaken by pleasure as he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch.

Fuck—you forgot how fucking big he was and how full he made you feel. Jungkook thrusts slowly, looking down as his dick disappears into your soaked cunt. He takes your tit in your mouth again, licking and flicking. Then he props himself onto his knees, shifting you forward, raising your legs to rest on his shoulders so he could penetrate deeper. Your tits shimmy in sync with his thrusts.

Jungkook bites down on his lip. “God, I missed this. Missed you—this pussy—always so fucking tight for me.” He continued rutting into you persistently before he halted.

Your head pops up, your arms propped on the bed. “Is everything okay?” Maybe he hadn’t fucked in so long. You were wearing him out.

He smiled. “Yeah—I just—I’m enjoying this a little too much. I don’t wanna come yet.” He leaned to kiss you.

“Can I be on top?”

He showed off a bunny smile. Low-key, he loves it when you’re on top. “Be my guest.”

He sets your legs down on the bed, and he happily lays against the headboard, his cock softening just a bit. You straddle his legs, hands reaching for his cock, stroking to make him erect. You eased yourself onto him, the stretch filling you up. You began rolling your hips in a fluid motion, slowly and provocatively. You could feel sweat developing behind your knees and on the nape of your neck, but at this point, you didn’t care; you’d fuck him all night if you needed to.

Jungkook props himself up, eyes filled with lust as he watches you riding him. You hold onto his shoulders for leverage, throwing your head back. You continue rolling your hips back and forth, letting every inch of his dick leave your pussy, only to put right back in. He grabs your waist, putting more pressure between you.

“Fuck—that’s good, baby, just like that,” he encouraged as he bit down on his lip, eyes focused on your pussy swallowing his cock. His tattooed hand spanks your ass, the sound reverberating throughout the room and the lewd sounds of hips snapping against each other.

You flashed a smile as your head was lolled back, and he repeated it again. Another hard spank. Your tits are in his full view, and he can’t help but reach for it, pinching the hardened nub. Leaning forward, your lips latch onto his neck, sucking and marking him. His arms wrapped around you as he began to thrust from underneath, his dick almost slipping out from the lust-filled frenzy of his movements.

You’re flush against him, chest to chest, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he rams hastily from below. Your gasps and moans encourage him to reach for his climax.

God, he fucking wishes he could have you raw, but you guys would have to discuss that at a different time. All he wanted at this moment was to find his sweet release.

His hands are gripped tightly onto the soft flesh of your cheeks, making you stroke his dick back and forth. His teeth are digging into his bottom lips, ready to bleed at this point.

“Come for me, Kook,” you urged.

His cheeks are burning, his heart racing beneath you. The muscles in his abdomen tighten, heat spreading under his skin. With one last thrust, he emptied himself into the condom. His chest is heaving. His breath is shattered as he lets out a whispered, fuck.

The two of you smile like complete idiots when you hold yourself up to look at him. You pull yourself off to lay beside him.

He turns to you. “Wanna go again?”

You playfully smack him across the chest. “Don’t you dare come near me.”

“Aw, come on, one more time for me.”

You shook your head. “I swear to God, Jeon Jungkook—you really will be the death of me.”

The night before felt like a fever dream. Your body aches everywhere, even in places you didn’t know existed. But you loved the familiar weight of Jungkook’s tattooed arm draped over you. You definitely didn’t mind that.

You flip over to see the big sleeping baby. His light snores and whistling are music to your ears. His wavy, disheveled hair asks you to run your hands through it. The little freckles on his cheek are like a constellation guide, waiting for your fingers to trace and place kisses.

You lean in, kissing his nose, and he doesn’t budge. You do it again, this time lightly biting it too. He grumbles, removing his arm to tuck under the pillow.

Shifting closer, you wanted to wake him up. “Boyfie,” you whisper, inching forward. With his eyes closed, he hums. “Are you up?” He doesn’t respond and hums again.

Jungkook opted to sleep shirtless and pantless, sporting only his black CK underwear underneath the sheets. Your thumb grazes the silver jewelry pierced into his nipple. No sign of life. Then your hand travels down further, palming his soft dick.

“Boyfie,” you say again, your palm pressing harder, cupping his growing erection. “I know you’re up.”

“Mm, not awake. Still sleeping,” he mumbles into the pillow, trying to hide his smile. “Keep going, though. I won’t stop you. Please wake me up.”

You chuckled softly. “We have to get up and get ready. We’re hanging out with Yuna and Namjoon today.”

Jungkook finally opened his sleepy eyes. “But I am up,” he joked, alluding to the erection poking you.

“You’re such a boy.”

“And? I wouldn’t mind a little wake-me-up,” he said, drawing you near him.

“Nuh-uh. They’ll be here in a bit, wondering why we aren’t answering the door!”

“So? They can wait.” Jungkook kisses your shoulder, trailing down your arm.

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” you protest, pushing him away, slipping from his grasp, making him pout. “We have forever to keep fucking each other.”

“Forever?” He perked up, but you already closed the door to the bathroom.

Having everyone together again felt right. With Jungkook by your side and your best friend across from you, you couldn’t forget Namjoon. He was always the level-headed one, encouraging you when needed.

You half-expected baby Indie to meet her bestie, Bamie, but Yuna left her with her grandmother. So, it was just the four of you, just like old times.

“So, how’s everything?” Yuna asked as she closed the cabinet door storing plates and bowls.

You cleared your throat. “It’s great. We’re all just getting settled and adjusting to living together.” The two of you hadn’t even had 24 hours together in this new place yet. It was hard to really gauge how you and Jungkook were feeling.

Yuna hums. It’s the same tone you recognize when she has something else to say but doesn’t want to risk hurting your feelings.

You sighed. “It’s so easy to tell when you have something on your mind. Just say it, Yuna.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Fine—keep it to yourself. Let it stew all day until you’re ready to burst. I just hope I’m not there for that,” you stated, taking the bowls from her grasp.

She groaned, quickly looking at the guys on the couch with a beer before turning to face you. “Okay, okay. I’m obviously happy that my brother’s back and that you’re together again…”

“But?”

“I just—I love you, and I love my brother, and I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt again,” she finally confessed.

You hold your arms out for a hug, and she slowly walks into your embrace. You squeeze her before she pulls away. “I know. Jungkook and I talked a lot, and I don’t think we will give up so easily. He’s my person, and I will choose him every day, even when it’s hard and I just want to give up. I love him, Yuna, and I’ll continue choosing him until the day I die.”

Yuna’s lips thinned. She was caught in the middle, and seeing both sides almost tore her apart. There wasn’t much she could do but support the both of you as best as she could.

You hug her again. “Don’t worry so much, babe. We’ll be okay. We’re taking it one day at a time. That’s all we can really do right now.”

“It’s good to have you back, man,” Namjoon says, clinking his beer can against Jungkook’s.

“It’s good to be back. I really missed you guys.” He looks back at you and Yuna, hugging and whispering away.

“You getting all settled in?”

“Yeah, we are.” Jungkook scratches Bam’s ears, and he looks up at him with his big doe eyes.

Namjoon looks at the two of you over his shoulder before leaning toward Jungkook. “So, uh, are you guys doing okay?” Jungkook’s eyebrows stitch together in confusion, and he nods. Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief. “I love you guys, but damn, I felt like I went through this rollercoaster of a relationship too. It was pretty brutal.”

Jungkook laughed, rubbing Namjoon’s shoulder. “Hyung, we made it out alive on the other side. There’s nothing to worry about now.”

“You, uh, still thinking about your ‘future’?” Namjoon asked, alluding to their conversation when he and Yuna had their housewarming party.

He smiled and nodded. The only dream he had was a future with you, and he was ready to spend the rest of his days getting to know you again, experiencing new things with you, finding new ways to love you, surprise you, excite you.

After Yuna and Namjoon leave, you and Jungkook relax on the couch with Bam, discussing the married couple.

“Were they acting weird, or was it just me?” Jungkook asked, hooking his arm around your neck and kissing your temple.

You chuckled. “No, they were definitely acting weird. But I get it, though. They’re just looking out for us.”

Jungkook hums. “Do you have any other skeletons in your closet I should know about?” he asked half-jokingly.

Well, there was one thing you hadn’t told him about—your mom. And you can tell that your silence makes him worried. “Erm,” you pulled away to face him. “Just one.” Jungkook intently listens. “You know all that stuff with my mom that happened when we were dating?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, we argued, but then I discovered she’s really not my mom. My dad had an affair early on in their marriage, and then my birth mom died, leaving me with my dad.” A weight was lifted off your shoulder when you expressed what you had been carrying for a long time.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he gives you a side hug. “What?” He couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you said, pulling away and giving him a small smile. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt because a part of it did. You understood that you would never have the kind of relationship with your mother you envisioned. “And, um, do you remember when Yuna was in the hospital, and I asked you to hold me while we were, you know—on a—yeah.”

He hummed. “Don’t remind me,” he lets out a soft chuckle.

“My mom was also in the hospital, and I apologized for my dad cheating on her and that she had to raise me. And I also told her that even though she never saw me as hers, she’ll always be my mom even if she doesn’t want to be a part of my life.”

Jungkook sighed. “Baby, I’m so sorry that you went through that. Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I was going through a lot then, and I was pretty insecure about our relationship, all my health stuff, and mom stuff. It was a lot, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

He lays on your lap, hugging your waist as he looks up at you. “Promise you won’t keep things from me. No matter how hard it is for you to tell me. Just—let’s just be open with one another, okay?”

You hummed in agreement. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“And what about you, huh? Any other psycho ex-girlfriends I should know about?” you said flatly.

Jungkook laughed and shook his head. “No more psycho ex-girlfriends, but there is a psycho ex-boyfriend.” You rolled your eyes, hitting his arm. “Kidding!”

Your first full day with Jungkook and Bam was perfect. You lounged around, unpacked, played with Bam, ate, fucked again, and just like that—nighttime came.

You lay facing Jungkook, finding it difficult to believe he was in front of you. “Pinch me,” you say, and Jungkook pinches your nipple. “Ow–don’t pinch me there,” you scowl, rubbing your pebbled nipple.

“You didn’t tell me where to pinch you,” he retorts.

You rolled your eyes. “Fair–”

“Why do I need to pinch you?”

You tuck your hands underneath your cheek. “Because I don’t want this to be a dream.”

Jungkook flashes a small smile, moving a stray hair out of the way. “You’re not dreaming, baby. I promise.”

“But what if I am? And there’s not a strong enough kick to wake me up? What if my totem never falls, and I really am dreaming all of this?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you referring to Inception right now?” He laughs, and you push him away.

“I’m being serious, Jungkook.”

His smile falters, and he’s in serious mode now. He shifts closer, draping his arm over you, holding the small of your back. “I know what you mean. We’ve been through a lot, and if you look at where we’ve been and where we are now, it’s pretty remarkable that we survived through it all. But trust me, baby, this–us–it’s real.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just in my head,” you say, resting your hand on his cheek and kissing his lips. “You’re here. Bamie’s here. I’m here,” you chuckle. What else did you really need?

Jungkook gazes into your eyes, ensuring you’re okay. He snuggles in closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Boyfie?” He hums. “Where do you see us in five years?”

If there was one thing you really did want, you needed to talk to him about it first.

“Five years is a long time from now.”

“Yeah, I know, but I just want us to be on the same page. I don’t want us heading in different directions, hoping we can read each other’s mind or something,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles, finding you so fucking cute. He withdraws from the embrace, looking at you. “This is what I want to say: I want to focus on the present and worry about the future later. But you want to hear this: I see us getting married, and maybe Bamie has a friend he can play with.”

He didn’t mention the one thing that you were thinking of. You assumed he was avoiding the elephant in the room. “What about kids?”

He takes a deep breath. “Well, I know we have some difficult circumstances with that, but I’d be okay if we didn’t have any. Why? What are you thinking?”

Ever since you got back from LA, you have been doing a lot of research for fertility treatments, along with speaking to your doctor. And who knows, with the ways technology has advanced these days, there could be a possibility of kids in the future. You understood that the road ahead would be tough, but you knew that with Jungkook by yourself, you could weather through anything.

“I, um, I’ve been thinking about starting fertility treatments. I know it’s not a given, and I don’t want to put too much hope into it because who knows if we can even get pregnant,” you stopped because it sounded ridiculous when spoken aloud. “Ugh—it’s dumb and wishful thinking, isn’t it—”

Jungkook holds a finger to your mouth, shushing you. “Baby, if you want this, then I want it too. I’ll do whatever I can to support you. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

You smile. “Thanks, that means a lot, and I know I’m just overthinking again.”

“We’re doing this together, remember?”

“Together,” you lean over to kiss him. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Jungkook had this hold on the thing in your chest, and you wouldn’t wanna settle for anyone less. He really had become your place of comfort, ease, and stillness. It felt so easy to slip back into your old routine. You could do this every hour, every minute, every second, seven days a week. Night after night, you just wanted to love him, right.

next ✨ 20 ~ ending credits

[aitarose]

SEVEN AM (T. OIKAWA) ⤷ pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

synopsis: between wrinkled bedsheets and lost undergarments, the evening of your dreams is one of a living nightmare—you, alone in a simple bed without its king. 

word count: 1.2k

genre: fuck boi!tooru, best friend!reader, one night stand, one-sided pining, angsty angst

warnings: extremely suggestive content, swearing, slight obsession, brief mentions of intercourse :( but not fully descriptive bc i’m a minor haha ok

24 hours collab masterpost

notes: for bby ly’s (@kyotarou) collab that i already forgot the name of oopsie brb OK it’s called the 24 hours collab aha aha there we go. also half of this takes place at like midnight umm chile anyways

It’d been a spur-of-the-moment decision, something that you’d relived over and over again within the constructs of your own mind—but never believed would actually come true. It was the very thing that you’d wished for most in all of your months by his side, never realizing that it was right within your grasp.

The dream being just beneath your skin, hands laced together through gentle movements and breathless moans, all occurring in one single night of ecstasy. 

A night that had been, of course, proceeded by your typical evening of celebration. The excited haze of energy that followed a perfect win on the court—victory for Club Athletico San Juan, which was led by none other than their esteemed setter—your best friend, Oikawa Tooru. 

You’d walked out of the bar together after eleven PM, hand-in-hand, him swinging your palms back and forth whilst you strolled down the spaced pavements—avoiding crazed traffic and wandering strangers—heading towards your quaint apartment which sat peacefully atop the local cafe. 

One after the other, the two of you stepped inside—locking the door behind you as you dropped your abandoned shoes on the mat, having taken them off hours earlier in the midst of dancing. His hand had never left the small of your back, guiding your steps towards the cozy kitchen with a dream-like cloud floating through the air. 

You’d offered him a mug of decaffeinated coffee, turning on the machine with the muscle memory of countless similar nights, not noticing the hardness of his gaze. There had been a glint in his eyes—an expression you’d never quite seen before displayed on his features as you turned to face him, the only sound being the soft grinds of the water heater. 

There wasn’t any verbal discussion, no command that had signaled him to rush over and take your jaw between his calloused fingers. Only a split second of eye contact, both of you having the same wish in that moment—to finally know the feeling of your lips on his in an ever-seizing kiss. 

And it really had been everything you’d dreamed of. Soft and passionate, perfection in terms of intimacy—a seemingly life-changing kiss between you and your best friend. The very person you’d been falling for for years on years now. The man that you imagined yourself meeting at the end of a rose covered aisle in beautiful designer attire. 

The path from the kitchen to your bedroom hadn’t taken long to conquer, strewn clothing across the floor, like scattered treats in the woods on the way to the witches hut. A desirable sight, but also one that would inevitably lead to pain and heartbreak—and unfortunately for you, those outcomes had never crossed your mind, not even once. 

But now, as you lay awake—facing the bedroom wall in an attempt to ignore the rising sunlight—there was a physical pain in your chest. The bonds of your being snapping into two as you heard him roll out of bed, groaning at the bright rays whilst his regretful actions cycled through his mind. 

“Shit.” You heard him mumble as you turned slightly to see him run a hand through his disheveled locks. He was biting his lip, tapping his foot against the hard wood floor with his eyes on the window, staring out into the incoming horizon with reddened irises. “Shit.”

Oikawa stood, abandoning the bodily indent in the comforter and scrambling to find his clothing. It seemed as if he were more focused on the location of his belt than the status of your relationship—all the more confirming that you were nothing but another one of his flings. Another one of his famous one night stands. 

“Tooru?” You called out, sitting up with your elbows as support, a fully serious gaze falling upon his eyes of fear as his attention snapped around. “Tooru, where are you going? Do you have an early practice?”

There was a part of you that wanted to believe that he did have an excuse for trying to leave you. That there was a valid reason as to why he hadn’t held you through the morning haze, why he hadn’t pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head in an attempt to wake you softly—why he hadn’t confessed any true feelings for you in the night turned dawn?

But all of your worries were confirmed at his reaction. His usually charming cheeks were replaced with ones devoid of commitment or love, his stance being awkward and weary rather than comfortable and content in your presence. He was practically a different person. 

You didn’t know this Oikawa Tooru, you hadn’t ever known the man before you now—but all the women at the bar, the fans in the stands, girls at the beach who’d whistle in his way and send him flirty glances had always been familiar with this feeling of longing. 

It was the tone of rejection and regrets, stolen kisses that had been thrown into the bin—taken away to the sea and lost in the landfill of broken hearts and mixed emotions. He didn’t need to come up with a response to your wonders, knowing that you were smarter than his empty promises and lies. All that was needed was a pained shake of the head and the stale wake of his absence. 

Tears rained down your make-up smudged skin at the sound of the front door closing, the realization of reality setting in—the reality that he would likely never take a walk with you on your path of life again. Your streets were at one for what you wanted to be forever—but forever doesn’t always last, does it?

No, because if it did you wouldn’t be driving down the boulevard of broken dreams with an open hand—an open hand that was, for some reason, still waiting for him to come back. Still hoping with every part of your soul that he would come rushing into your arms and fall back into a peaceful slumber. 

Perhaps you could find that slumber yourself, snuggled in the cold cotton sheets of your king sized bed—which was ironically missing its king of the court. 

If there was any chance that you could find rest, lucid dream the reality that you oh-so-wished you were currently living, you’d take that opportunity. After all, what is life without the one you love? What is life if not missed connections and broken signals? What is the point of trying so hard, only to be beat down after finally getting what you wanted?

Maybe you just weren’t meant for the type of mind-blowing love you saw in the movies or on television. The lifestyle of happiness just wasn’t in your book—the dream of dancing through a fairytale was a phony pretense, as you weren’t the princess in the story, but rather the abandoned love interest instead. 

Turning the next page wouldn’t be easy for you, it would take all the mental strength in your bones—but at the sight of the parting clouds and shining sun, you knew you’d be okay. The next chapter of your story would be a good one, you were going to make sure of it—with or without him.

dedicated to my silly little beautiful baka @gellysticks​. you’re such a silly goose you silly little goose you

aitarose do not copy, claim, or mimic my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers and tags as your own. do not use my blog as a template for your own, or base your theme on mine.

[mrs-march-ahs]

Can you do 48, 43, 5, where the reader (female) is Kit’s babysitter? but the reader is super shy and reserved and Kit finds her innocence amusing. 🥵

Kit Walker Getting Rough With His Babysitter (you!)

Summary- Kit's family has welcomed you in as the babysitter. But Kit welcomes you in as something more.

Warnings- filthy, filthy smut😋 Kit being a little rougher than usual but it's still hot, fingering, squirting and seggsy s3x Words- 2.3k, gets into smut fairly quickly

I didn't use the word prompts, I hope that's okay with you. I started rewatching Asylum and got Kit feels so I neeeeded to write something asap <3

Enjoy :D

--

You lay down the last cleaned plate and dry your hands on a kitchen towel nearby, stepping to the side to take a peek at Julia outside. When you picked her up from school today, she insisted that her new friend comes home with her to play. Their parents didn’t seem to have an issue with that, and since Mr Walker was very relaxed when it came to raising his kids, you didn’t think he’d mind.

You look around the kitchen before glancing at the clock, making a mental note of when to go and pick Thomas up after his football practice. He’s been playing a lot recently, so you hoped his dad wouldn’t mind if you went to his game on Saturday to watch him too. You’d become very close to the kids, and you felt like a part of the family, despite just being the babysitter. Or as Julia and Thomas called you, the Big Kid Sitter, since they hated being called babies.

You cleaned up dishes after making Julia and her new friend a snack, so you open in the fridge and start making dinner. The Walkers were pretty eco-friendly and mostly ate the things from their own farm and land, so you start cooking with the vegetables that had grown just outside the window.

You weren’t cooking for long before you heard the front door open, and Mr Walker walk in. He kicks off his work boots and takes off his work gloves. You turn around to smile at him.

“Good afternoon”

He smiles at you wide before throwing the gloves on the coffee table.

“Good afternoon”, he repeats back to you.

“Do you want me to put them in the laundry? I was going to do a load after dinner”, you ask, referring to the gloves. Kit did his absolute best handling everything around the house, but you wanted to help the most you could.

“Hey, you’re just the babysitter, let me worry about everything else”. You smile and nod, going back to cutting ingredients on the kitchen island, for the food you were still going to make.

“Although, dinner sounds delicious”, Kit says, looking at your body up and down. You look back at him blankly. You were never sure whether Kit meant to come off flirty and charming, or if he didn’t notice how he made you feel.

The dirty way he looked at you as he said delicious made your thighs tingle, but you ignore it, assuming he didn’t mean more than he said.

Kit walks over to your side and looks out the window.

“Where are the kids?”

“Thomas is still at school”. Kit nods. “And Julia is outside with a friend from school”

Kit nods once more. “Maya?”

“No, a new friend”, you look at Kit and hold back a smile. “Eric”

Kit raises his eyebrows, and looks out the window to look at his daughter running around with a little boy, chasing chickens in the backyard.

“Hope they ain’t kissin”. Kit’s accent came through the most when there was emotion in his voice. It made you bite your lip to hold back a wider smile. You turn around to him and put an arm around his shoulder to relax him.

“They aren’t, I’m keeping an eye on them”

Kit puts his arms on the sink and leans forward to take a good look at them, allowing all the muscles in his arms to reveal themselves. The muscles that every day turn wenches and pick up heavy toolboxes. You let your arm slide down his shoulder to touch his arm as subtly as you could.

“Although, they are playing mommies and daddies”, you say biting your lip once more, not sure whether Kit will like what he hears.

Kit turns to look at you and you raise your eyebrows. “Julia told me herself, they’re pretending the chickens are their kids”.

Kit sighs and turns around, leaning against the sink and parallel to you. The tips of your toes almost touch with how close you’re standing, between the kitchen island and the counter.

“They grow up too fast”, he says and smiles sadly. “She’s way too young to be playing mommies and daddies”

“I don’t think it’s serious yet, they’re chasing the chickens telling them it’s bedtime”, you laugh, hoping for Kit to loosen up. Although, if he were mad at your remark, you had an idea how he could take it out on you.

Kit stays silent for a minute, not too amused by what you said, instead deep in thought. You respectfully turn around and go back to cooking, letting him think.

But only a few seconds later, you feel his presence even closer behind you. You feel his breath against your shoulders as he opens his lips to speak.

He hesitates, making you wait and the impatient butterflies in your stomach flutter around faster. When the tip of his nose is touching your temple, he finally whispers.

“If anybody is old enough to be playing mommies and daddies, it’s us, don’t you think?”, he raises his eyebrow in natural question, as if what he’s suggesting isn’t filthy.

Your lips part with a silent gasp as you turn your head to try and look him in the eye, wanting to see if he’s serious or not. But your gaze never makes it to his eyes, stopping at his lips and never going further. The longer you stare the more you notice the edges of his lip curving into a smirk.

The kids outside run away further, taking their giggles and footsteps with them, leaving the kitchen and house completely silent. Kit mirrors your eyes, looking down at your lips. You gently lay the knife down on the cutting board and gulp quietly. You wonder whether Kit heard how nervous you were, or how hard your heart was pounding, or how much your heat throbbed.

Your questions were left unanswered when Kit pressed his lips against yours, sliding his hands on your waist and pulling you close. He pushes you against the kitchen island and you obediently let him. He kisses you again, deeper and hungrier, sucking your bottom lip in and savouring the taste and warmth of it. You waver, moving your hands first to lay gently on his shoulders, but quickly pulling them around his neck, trying to bring him closer to you. You tug and pull on each other as if you yearn to become one, desperate to feel skin to skin contact already that is still being blocked by your clothes.

Kit’s hand roam your body as he engulfs you in his kiss, moving his hand to brush through your hair, holding the back of your head as he speeds up, sucking in your tongue and lips eagerly. He no longer holds his breath, panting against your lips, making you melt against his body.

Any apprehension on your side dissolves with Kit’s other hand sliding to your ass, cupping it and digging his fingers into your cheek harder than expected. You can’t help but whimper against his mouth as he does so, feeling the immediate affect of your noises on the buldge pressed up against you. His hardening cock rubs against your clothed thighs just enough for you to realise how wet you were for him already. Kit must feel the same, as he moves his lips onto your neck, kissing gently once or twice before sucking harshly.

“Kit”, you whimper. “I need-”

He barks against your ear, “What? What do you need?”

His deep voice and sexy accent made you stutter even more.

He brushes his lips against yours, repeating, “What do you need?”, before biting your bottom lip lightly and tugging on it. When he lets go and it snaps back to place, you gasp and look at him. The hungry lust in his eyes made them black.

“You”, you finally choke out. You pull at his shirt, so needy that you struggle to take it off yourself, just pulling and lifting it. “Here, now”

Kit pulls his shirt off and throws it on the counter before ripping your pants down with your underwear. When his hands make their way back up your body after taking them off, they meet the bottom of your shirt and pull it off in one quick motion. It ends up somewhere on the floor, but you don’t care where.

The hand that Kit had on your ass returns to its position, grabbing a fistful of your ass and turning you around. He pushes up against your bare ass with the buldge in his pants and kisses your shoulder.

“Is this what you want?”, he rubs his tent between your cheeks. You nod desperately.

“Are you ready for that?”, Kit teases against your neck.

“Mm”, you moan, nodding again.

Kit pushes the chopping board in front of you away, almost letting it fall to the floor. Once he has space, he picks you up and puts you on the counter, bent over for him. You accept, pressing your boobs against the cold counter making your nipples harden, and looking back at Kit slightly.

He puts his rough hands on your thighs, spreading them to see your pussy. He groans when he sees how turned on you are, and gently blows on your arousal. The unexpectedly soft action makes you shiver and Kit chuckles, before quickly returning to his dominant self.

He spits on your pussy and uses his pointer and middle finger to rub it around you. Even the minimal touch finally in the place you want it, makes you close your eyes and hum in pleasure.

However, the tender caresses end when Kit plunges his two fingers into your pussy.

“Kit!”, you cry out.

Kit exhales in satisfaction at how soaked you are, before moving his fingers deeper into you. He points them up and curls them, digging around your walls. You rest your face on the counter, completely in his control as his slender fingers rhythmically curl. Kit clearly knows what he’s doing, purposely moving his whole hand, thrusting and probing his fingers at your sensitive ridge.

He suddenly slaps his hand down on your ass, making you yelp out in surprise. His tight grip on it adds another layer of pleasure, and he kneads and spreads it out, looking closely at you drip as he finger fucks you.

You can no longer hold in any noises, moaning incoherent swear words as Kit’s hand speeds up, hearing him moan too at the obscene sounds you make. Kit bites his bottom lip and the muscles in his arm flex as he fucks you, seeing how close you are to climax. Your fingers grip the edge of the counter in an attempt to hold yourself down, his fast digging making you move around the island.

Although you’ve masturbated and orgasmed before, an unfamiliar feeling spreads through your soaking pussy, making you lift your head.

“Kit”, you whine out between pants and moans that line up with the fast pace of his fingers, “Wait”.

“That’s okay baby”, he spits out, staring at the puddle you’re making. “Let go”

Your eyes wrinkle as you shut them tightly and your fingertips turn white as you hold on for dear life, Kit moving his entire arm, nearly vibrating his hand inside you, his stiff fingers deeper inside you than ever before. A long cuss leaves your lips.

“Fuuuuuck”, you yell out and rest your head, unbelievable arousal pouring out of you so fast that you can hear it on the floor.

“Fuck, baby”, Kit whines desperate, watching you squirt all over his hand. He slows his fingers down but doesn’t stop them, unzipping his pants with the hand that was on your ass.

When you part your lips to beg him to stop, too sensitive to take more, he takes out his fingers and replaces them quickly with his cock. The stretch makes you gasp and groan, only possible because of how wet you are. Kit puts his hand on your lower back, thrusting into you and moving your lax body towards him to meet his cock. He pounds you relentlessly, occasionally slapping his hand down on your ass, making you swear.

Kit groans through gritted teeth, panting as almost every thrust makes you clench around him. He leans towards you and brushes his fingers back through your hair, firmly but tenderly lifting your head off the marble island.

You struggle to keep your own head up as Kit’s massive length completely fills you, whining and trying to hold back another impending orgasm as best as you could, despite how tired you were getting.

“Kiiit”, you yell.

“Yes baby?”, he breathes out. He wraps his arm around your thigh, messily rubbing your clit.

Although a small gesture, it sends electrifying pleasure through your body, making your eyes open and hands grip the edge once again.

The extra touch makes you clench without even noticing, only clear by Kit’s loud reaction.

“Oh fuck- baby”, he groans. His sounds and thrusts get quicker in pace. You close your eyes tightly, feeling too full once again, attempting to hold in another orgasm. It becomes too difficult when Kit thrusts against something special, making you let go of your head and body and squirt over him again.

“Y/N, oh my god-”

“Cum for me baby”, you whimper out encouragingly and clench for him.

Within three more thrusts Kit yelps out your name, releasing into you, and attempts to ride out the orgasm, but immediately becomes too overwhelmed.

He pulls out but stays stood behind you, both of you too exhausted to move.

Suddenly, a certain thought gives you the energy to stand up and face him.

“Wait, you came into me?”, you ask.

Kit looks confused. “You told me to”

You widen your eyes a little, not wanting to show how nervous this made you, since you didn’t know how serious Kit felt about you. But he put his hand around your waist and smiled, making you calmer. He fakes an innocent voice and asks you a simple question.

“I thought you wanted to play mommies and daddies?”

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

@milly-louise @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @tatesimper @sallyscigarettes @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan @kitwalkerangel @kitsommers @blackbat2020 @whiiiiplaaaaash @elaineygrace @divinerulerluvr @johndeaconshands @midnightstar-90 @xmaximoffic @tatesweaterweather @undeadcortez @slightlyvicked @americxn @kaislittleheadliner @imjimmysdarling @kaiandersonluvr @fictional-men-that-i-stan @quickiesgirl

guess thomas never got picked up from football practice SKDJSD