#ok life story over bye

[cockworms]

so I work two jobs, at an auto parts store and a cafe and I've noticed that people at the parts place think im a dude and the cafe customers assume im a girl its so interesting to see

[corpsentry]

breaking the law and outing myself on the internet because i'm showcasing my senior dance thesis on april 28 at 6:30 and 8:30 pm Eastern Standard Time and i want You to see it

we don't have a livestream link yet but we will. in the meantime look at these cool posters and this cool blurb. ok now save the date SEE YOU SOON

[mintypsii]

author x barista cafe au (sanji is competing against himself)

[asahicore]

cherry pits - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. dad!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

(Spoiler: wrong.)

genre. DILF AUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!, neighbors au, s2l, summer au, slight age gap (reader is 21 and hoon 26), reader is so down bad over sunghoon its actually crazy but also extremely relatable cause this is sunghoon we're talking about, fluff and smut, sex gets freakyyy ngl

word count. 12.9k

a/n. hey sisters had no time to write anything this week so i am coming back (everybody boos) with a repost yayyy!!! i actually love this story idkw i just find it fun so i hope you guys will enjoy rereading / reading it !!!! as always let me know ur thoughts.. even if they're just incomprehensible screaming (bad or good).. im happy w anything ok bye!!!

You’ve always wondered about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, isn’t it? Yet that’s never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoy this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Bite, eat, spit is exactly what you’re doing when, with a trembling finger, you finally brave to open your banking app and check your balance. It’s the beginning of summer, and after two semesters of intense studying and too-much-coffee drinking, you think you deserve three long months of doing nothing but hanging out in your childhood bedroom and eating the food your parents buy and make. You’re especially looking forward to the vacation in Mexico you have planned with your friends at the end of August.

One look at your bank account and your dreams of white beaches and seas so blue you couldn’t tell them apart from the sky shatter around you, the sad, low numbers on the screen sneering at you mockingly. You were sure you had saved enough money from part-time jobs and generous relatives, but now you regret all of those night-outs and lazy takeaways. If you had cut down on those, maybe you wouldn’t have to go through the hassle of finding a summer job at the last minute, which you would definitely have to do if you wanted to eat something on that dear beach of yours and not just starve to death under the glaring sun.

That was it - tomorrow, you’d go and get a job. Today, however, you’d enjoy your last day of respite and eat some more cherries, or maybe make some jam and a pie so your parents wouldn’t chide you for eating them all, and then go pick some more from the three trees in your backyard. You’d sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun while you read or, if you couldn’t be asked, while you listened to the bustle of the old and worn-down house next door being renovated. You’re surprised someone had the courage to buy it and give it a new life, but you assume that’s the kind of courage that comes with having time and money. 

Yesterday night, you’d heard a little girl playing outside until her mom called her in saying it was time to go, so you made up a story of your neighbors being newlyweds that had decided they’d had enough of the city and wanted to raise their daughter in a calmer town far from busy streets and loud honks. You could bring them some cherries, maybe in jam or pie form, as a housewarming gift.

Unfortunately, the day passed and you were too busy doing nothing to actually get around to baking, so you decided to do nothing some more and then go to bed, needing rest before your big job hunt.

You’d gravely overestimated the amount of job opportunities in your small hometown, only receiving apologetic looks from the store owners as they tell you they don’t need any help, or worse, already have someone. Damn those 16-year-olds who only get summer jobs so they can blow their whole pay in a couple weeks before school starts again. You, on the other hand, need that money for important things, like sipping on a cocktail at a bar with a seaview.

The local hardware store next to the train station is your saving grace. It looks quite small from the outside, but once you step inside, rows of lamps and mirrors in all shapes and sizes along with all kinds of household needs welcome you, followed by a section for gardening and pet caretaking. The basement is where all the paints and brushes were, as well as the more technical (technical to you, at least) products, like bolts and tools or kitchen and bathroom appliances.

A lot of people undertake renovations in their homes during their free time in the summer, so it’s important for the store to have their experts helping out customers in their dedicated aisles rather than working behind the till and restocking the shelves, which is what you will be doing for the next two months. The pay is slightly above minimum wage and with twenty-one hours of work a week, you’ll earn more than enough to enjoy your vacation. You start tomorrow.

Your co-workers are happy to welcome a new face into their team. They’re nice even if they have the tendency to drone on about different types of tools and the importance of choosing the right brush for the surface you’re painting, which you don’t particularly care about, but you think you might as well learn as much as you can during your time here; it might always come in handy later.

As you expected, it isn’t the most stimulating job ever, but you aren’t bored out of your mind either. You make small talk with customers as they explain their purchases, some more defensively than others, even if you didn’t ask. You make sure to restock the shelves correctly and sometimes ask for help when you feel your arms giving out after hours of carrying heavy stuff. When no one’s in, you like to rearrange the cute bathroom decorations so that they make a little rainbow of toothbrush and soap holders.

You were daydreaming about what you would do with your friends in Mexico and all the cherries you could eat there when a man so handsome you thought he was a part of your dream walks in. He doesn’t notice (or maybe he just ignores it, you’re not sure) your gawking and smiles at you, saying “hello” before turning his attention to the map which details where everything is stored at the entrance of the shop. You manage a small “h-hello” back that probably doesn’t even reach his ears, and you curse yourself for doing a poor job of greeting a customer just because said customer looks like he’s been pushed from the heavens above onto this unworthy earth by the other angels who were jealous of his beauty. 

You stay put behind the counter the whole time he’s there to avoid the potential embarrassment of running into him in a random aisle and making a fool of yourself. There isn’t much to do anyway, so you rearrange the organic protein bars and chewing-gum at the counter and count all the money in the cash register to distract yourself. He doesn’t spend a very long time browsing and after twenty minutes, you see him approach with a cart full of the biggest cans of paint the store offers. It’s mostly white paint, but there are some browns and grays, and one of pink as well.

You thank God for those twenty minutes because they allowed you to get a hold of yourself so that you didn’t gape at him like a dead fish instead of scanning his articles, which is what you are very professionally and expertly doing. “That’s a lot of paint,” you comment lightheartedly, partly just to prove to yourself that you can also speak in front of this man.

“I know,” he chuckles, and it seems unfair that his voice should be just as attractive as his face. “The previous owners of the house I just bought had terrible taste in wallpaper and wall colors, so I have to repaint basically the whole house. Everything has to go, really. The floors, the furniture, the lights.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a busy summer. That’ll be $132.76, please.”

“I’ll pay by card,” he says as he brings his wallet out from his back pocket and inserts his card into the reader, which allows you to look freely at his tanned arms and the veins that protrude here and there. He can’t be older than thirty, so there’s probably not that much of an age difference between the two of you, but damn does he look more mature in the sexiest way possible than all of the male college students you’re used to seeing on a daily basis. If anything, he reminds you of the hot young Linguistics professor your whole department likes to drool over. 

The beep of the payment being accepted snaps you out of your daze. “And yeah, it’ll sure be a busy summer. I’ll need a lot of stuff from here, so you might have to get used to seeing me around,” he says with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this walking Greek god of a man is actually flirting with you, but the glint in his eyes tells you it wasn’t just an off-hand comment.

“I could get used to that,” you surprise yourself by replying confidently, your smile mirroring his as pretty dimples appear on each side of his face.

You hand him the receipt and notice his eyes flickering down to your name tag before trapping yours in his gaze once again. You don’t think you ever want to look away. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says and walks out with his cart and his tons of paint before you can say anything, lest ask his name, except for “see you.”

You take a deep breath in and another out when he’s out of sight, trying to calm your racing heart. You can’t wait to rave to the girls’ group chat about this, but one of your coworkers calls you for help and you have to put the handsome stranger to the back of your mind for a while.

—

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

Pitting cherries is an arduous task that always takes longer than you think it will, but you never complain about it. You’ve found the perfect technique of cutting them in half around the pit, turning the small fruit without squeezing it, extracting the stone and making sure it doesn’t get confused and end up in the bowl with the pitted cherries, all without tiring your wrists after ten minutes. A surprise pit in a cherry pie can add to the charm of a homemade dessert, but you’d rather not have to spit out five of them while trying to eat one slice.

You prepare a crumbly dough to make two classic American-style pies and fill four jars with cherry jam that you cook while the doughs rest. It’s almost offensive how small the cherries become as they cook, the amount that fills those four jars having filled eight before, but you decide there’s no reason to take it personally since the cherries don’t do it on purpose, and put the jars away to cool down. You roll out the first rested dough and despair for a bit when it keeps on falling apart, but it just makes it more satisfying once you have it perfectly thinly rolled out and covering the tin. The second one is a bit nicer to you and you only have to try rolling it out twice. 

Two hours later, as the sun finally starts to relent and a cooler breeze flows through the air, the pies are all baked, cooled and ready to be eaten. You leave one for you and your parents to enjoy later, then head over to the next house to greet your new neighbors with the other pie. You knock and wait for a good thirty seconds before getting any sort of response, making you think no one’s in.

“Y/N?” a semi-familiar voice calls out, and your head whips in its direction. If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

“Oh! Hi! Guess we’re neighbors. Ha,” you say with a clumsy smile, holding the tin over your forearm as your other hand shields your eyes from the sunlight so you can look at him without squinting your eyes.

“Neighbors?” he repeats as he joins you on the front porch, taking off his gloves dirtied by the mud and using the back of his hand to wipe off some sweat from his forehead. The sweat makes his hair stick to his face and there are small beads of it falling from his hairline down onto his white t-shirt. You detect the slightest of stubbles on his chin and upper lip, probably from not having shaved for just a day or two. He’s even tanner than when you saw him a few days ago, and his thick eyebrows form a straight line as he frowns in what you guess is tiredness and perhaps confusion from seeing you in regular clothes and holding a pie tin on his porch. For a second, you’re scared he might think you’re some kind of stalker, but you nod and tilt your head towards your house. 

“Yep. That one just over there behind you.”

He turns his upper body to take a look at your house and nods slowly as he turns back around, gaze finding yours again like the other day at the store. You have no idea who this man is - hell, you don’t even know his name - but good lord are you attracted to him, especially when he gives you that unreadable smile that shows off his dimples. 

“Huh. What a coincidence,” he says, and that could mean anything in the world, but you hope he means it in a good way. “I’m Sunghoon, by the way.” he adds, extending his hand for you to take, which you do, and the simple action of shaking his hand without eye contact ever breaking is enough to send shivers down your spine. Hopefully, this goes unnoticed by this Sunghoon.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 

“Is that pie?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“It is, cherry pie I made myself with cherries from our backyard. A housewarming gift, if you will. Here,” you reply, offering him the tin.

He takes it from your hands, the tips of his fingers slightly grazing yours, on purpose or not, you’re not sure. He lifts some of the aluminum covering the pie and peeks underneath, then hums appreciatively. “Thanks, it looks really good. I’ve been living off of ready-meals and casseroles from the neighbors, so this’ll be really nice.”

“Well we’ve got tons of cherries, so feel free to ask whenever you want some,” you offer, and he nods. A small silence settles between the two of you and you’re about to excuse yourself so it doesn’t get awkward when he invites you in, asking if you’d like to have a piece with him.

“If you want to, I mean. I was gonna take a break anyway,” he says somewhat coyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. You’re surprised to see him being anything else other than confident and self-assured, but it only makes him look cuter in your eyes.

“Sure,” you accept with a smile, letting him lead you inside the house.

“Sorry, it smells like paint all over the house. That’s why I was outside, doing some gardening while I aired the house out,” he explains. “Let me just get some plates and a knife out. And something for us to drink. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got water, or some iced tea or lemonade. The grandma across the street made some for me,” he says all at once, and you suppress a giggle at his sudden nervous behavior.

“Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?” he responds almost immediately, turning to you just as you both reach the kitchen.

“Just water is fine.”

A shy smile makes his dimples appear once again as he nods. “Okay, sounds good.” You help him carry everything to the back porch and set down the glasses and a jug of water on a table with two chairs around it.

“The porches are the only parts I won’t have to fix up too much, for some reason.”

“You’re going to redo the whole house yourself?” you ask, surprised, as you pour two glasses of water and he serves you a slice of cherry pie (“there might be some stray cherry pits, so be careful,” you warn as he sets a slice on his plate).

“A lot of it, yeah, but I’ve also got some people to help out. My dad’s a carpenter so I know my way around these things, but I also know it’s better and faster to have more than one man on the job, so some guys he works with come a couple times a week.”

“Yeah, with the state this house is in, you’d need more than a summer if you did everything yourself,” you comment, and he chuckles, agreeing. “My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

“Please don’t jinx my house from the get-go,” he says, making you laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. It’ll be nice seeing it all fixed-up, actually.”

“Have you lived here long?” he asks, looking at you thoughtfully as he takes another bite of the pie. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks. And yeah, my whole life. I go away when semester starts but come back for the holidays and the summer.”

“So you're a student?”

“Yeah, just at the state university a few hours away. Not too far away that it’s a hassle traveling back, but not too close that I go home every weekend. What about you, what do you do?”

You wait for his answer while he swallows his mouthful and take another bite yourself. “I teach,” he starts as he dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin. “Fifth graders, on the other side of town. I used to live in a small apartment near the school I work at but it’s nicer, having more space. I saved enough money to buy this house and fix it up, so here I am now,” he says, gesturing to the house and the garden with his arms. 

You notice his use of the first person pronoun when he talks about where he used to live and his house now, which makes you wonder if it’s just him, even though you were sure you heard a woman and a young girl’s voices the other day. Surely, if he wasn’t single, he wouldn’t have invited you in or given you flirtatious looks, right? Or were you reading totally wrong into this and he was just an exceptionally friendly person?

You put these questions to the side and continue chatting with Sunghoon, letting the subject of his marital status come up on its own during your conversation. And indeed, you get your answer when he tells you about the different parts of the house he plans on having, one of them being a bedroom for his daughter.

“Oh, so you have a daughter? How old is she?” you ask as you take a sip of water, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. Considering his age, you expect that his child will be one, two years old max, so his answer makes you almost choke on your drink.

“She’s turning eight this summer.”

“Eight?” you repeat as you set your glass down, looking at him wide-eyed. So much for nonchalance. “But you’re so-”

“Young? Yeah, I know,” he interrupts with a knowing smile, probably used to this kind of reaction. “I’m 26,” he adds, then watches as you do the simple math in your head. When you turn to him with a surprised look, he answers your question before you’ve even asked it. “Yep, I had her when I was 18.”

“Wow,” is all you can say. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing extraordinary or anything. I was in my last year of high school, and I got my girlfriend at the time pregnant. We’d only been dating four months but her parents wouldn’t let her get an abortion. They’re really religious. They took care of our baby, with the help of my parents, while I went to community college and she retook senior year since she had to drop out halfway through the year. No, we’re not together anymore, if you’re wondering,” he says, catching you off guard, as if he’d read your thoughts. 

He chuckles before sighing and continues. “If none of this had happened, we’d probably have broken up before going off to college and proceeded to forget about each other. We started out living with her parents, then got that small apartment I told you about when she found a job. We’re not on bad terms by any means, but we’ve just not been in love since Chaeryeong turned 2, probably. We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

You nod slowly, letting the whole story sink in. “You’re both handling this situation really maturely, it sounds like. I’ve heard of so many teenage parents fighting all the time and not taking care of their kids properly.”

“She’s already got a weird parental situation, it’s the least we can do for her to behave like adults, you know.”

“Right, of course,” you say, nodding again. Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

He tells you a bit more about his daughter and you keep talking until your dad calls you, asking you why you’re not home at dinner time, and you only notice then how long you’ve been sitting there with Sunghoon, just talking. You tell him you feel bad for taking up so much of his time but he shakes your apologies off.

“It was my pleasure, really. And thanks again for the pie, I think Chaer will love it.”

He walks you to the front door and calls out your name after you’ve waved goodbye and started walking. You didn’t know you had been expecting him to do anything until you heard the hopeful tone in your own voice. “Yeah?”

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

Although you’ve only got one older brother, you have younger cousins as well as older ones that have babies of their own, so you’re not a complete stranger to kids, but more importantly, you like them. They have the world to learn, but they say surprisingly smart things and have really cute faces.

“I’d say that I am, yeah,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, mirroring his expression.

“Good,” he says, and pauses a second for good measure. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Sunghoon,” you say as you turn back and head to your house, letting him enjoy the view of you walking away. 

On the short way home, you realize that you completely have the hots for your neighbor, although you probably knew that before. Is it twisted that you like him more now that you know he’s got a kid? Probably a little bit, but you’re not going to fight it. He’s single, after all. And not even thirty. A five-year gap isn’t unheard of. 

Your parents ask you where you’ve been as you set the table and get ready for dinner. “Just over at our new neighbor’s house to give him some pie and say hi,” you say as you toss the salad in its bowl, spreading the dressing evenly. 

“Ooh, the neighbor,” your mother echoes knowingly, wiggling her eyebrows, and steals a leaf of lettuce when it falls from the bowl because of your vigorous tossing. “We should have him over at some point, welcome him into the neighborhood. I’ve seen him a bit, you know. Out painting on his front porch or when he was in his garden the same time as me. He’s a very attractive young man,” she says, lowering her voice so your dad doesn’t hear even though he’s outside grilling the meat. “Do you know how old he is? Looks a bit young for a homeowner to me, but who knows what young people are up to these days.

“He’s twenty-six, and he’s saved a lot of money. Plus, I don’t think that house was very expensive. From what he’s told me, the renovations will basically cost as much as the house itself. He’s also got a kid.”

“Aw, must be a cute baby,” she says as your father walks in, carrying a tray of steaming barbecued steaks and potatoes.

“She’s eight,” you say bluntly, causing them both to look at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, right, then. Happens,” your mother says, bringing her glass of water to her lips and taking a sip from it. “Is he still with the mother?”

“They broke up a while ago, but they’re on good terms,” you say, and your mom nods slowly at the information.

“So, he’s single, huh?” she says, trying to hide her smile, earning herself a groan from your dad and a chuckle from you. 

“C’mon, mom!”

“What? You can’t deny that he’s attractive, and he’s single. Plus, you two must get along well if you spent a couple hours talking. Sure, he’s got a kid, but you love those, don’t you?”

“Mom, you of all people would know kids aren’t pets. Dating someone with an eight-year-old isn’t the same as dating someone with a cat.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

Your dad shakes his head and you eat your food as you listen to them bickering with a smile. You think about what your mother said - should you go and get Sunghoon? Your heart says yes, but your brain is a bit more reluctant. Another part of your body, lower down there, is screaming ‘yes’ at you.

He does live right by, after all.

That night, you FaceTime your roommate and best friend from college and bring her up to date about ‘the hot man from the store the other day.’ She paints her toenails but listens intently as she always does when you talk about boys, humming and chuckling here and there.

“God, Y/N, I didn’t know you had daddy issues, of all things.”

You gasp fake-dramatically. “Excuse me, I do not! I was attracted to him before I knew he was a dad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let me know when you guys actually hook up, I’m curious whether older men are actually better,” she says, making you scoff.

“I hope he is. I’m very much tired of those boys that don’t know where the clit is and use too much tongue.”

“You know, when I complain to my mom about guys, she always tells me to wait it out a few years. She says they get more mature and, well, she didn’t say that outright, but she very heavily implied that the sex is much, much better. Kinda gross hearing it from her, but it’s good information.”

You hum. “Well, he’s not that much older… But let’s hope that it still makes a difference,” you say, and then move on to another topic. 

—

One thing that eating cherries has taught you is that if you want to enjoy eating the sweet flesh, you’ll need to deal with the pit as well. Ever the grand philosopher, you realized soon enough that this was applicable to real life and not just your favorite fruit. Wanna get a good grade on your test? Gotta study for it. Wanna go on holiday to Mexico? Gotta find a summer job and earn money.

Wanna make your way to Sunghoon’s bed? Gotta seduce him.

Over the following days, you stand behind the counter at the hardware store, elbow perched on the hard surface, head resting on your palm and vision fuzzy as you daydream about your next encounter with Sunghoon. More often than not, a customer will clear their throat to awkwardly let you know of their presence and you’ll have to exchange your imagined dialogue with Sunghoon for a quick apology and some pleasantries; more often than not, a coworker will call out your name for some help just as you get to the juicy part of your reverie. In those moments, you always feel like you’ve been caught red-handed watching softcore porn, even if no one knows the last thing about what goes on in your head, nor do they care. 

Much like the first time he walked into the store, when he does again on a Thursday morning, you think your daydreams have just gone too far and you’re now hallucinating. But, lo and behold, this is the true Park Sunghoon in the flesh, and he smiles and waves at you as he strides in before disappearing behind one of the many aisles.

You spend the next fifteen minutes going over witty conversation starters that will surely make him fall for you, only for you to stutter out a “h-hi, Sunghoon,” when he finally reaches the counter.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he jokes, and you laugh a bit too hard for a comment that isn’t that funny.

“How are the renovations going?” you ask as you scan his articles - some more paint and brushes, lots of tile glue, a bunch of nails and two different sizes of turnscrews. He frowns in concentration at the snacks next to the counter until he caves in and gets a chocolate protein bar that’s more sugar than protein. 

“Pretty okay,” he starts. “I’m in a bit of a rush, cause Chaer is already coming in two weeks and I need to have finished at least the interior by that time. My dad’s friends helped me get the roof done, so that’s good, but now they’re all busy with other sites so it's just me. Right now I’m redoing the tiles in the bathrooms. You need so much damn glue,” he says with a chuckle.

You think for a second, then timidly offer, “I could help out, you know. If you needed me to.” 

He looks at you with raised eyebrows, halfway through getting his card out of his wallet. “Really?”

“I mean, I don’t have much experience with this kinda stuff, but I’ve picked up a few things here and there from working here. If it saves you time, I could do the easy things. This job isn’t particularly physically demanding so I’ve still got energy at the end of the day. That’s $78.96, please.”

A small smile appears on his face as he inserts his card into the reader. He punches in his code and then returns your gaze. “That could be nice, actually.”

And that’s how you find yourself over at Sunghoon’s house in denim shorts and your dad’s old t-shirts almost everyday for the next two weeks, helping him fix up the old two-storey home. He measures out the perfect length for wood planks or marble tiles that you assist him in fastening to the floors of different rooms and he fixes holes in walls that you paint over afterwards. Sometimes on your breaks, you share a bowl of cherries that you brought from your garden. (One morning, you tried to make cherry juice out of them, but when after almost two hours of pitting the liquid barely filled a glass, you decided that it was too much effort and that you’d keep on just eating them and baking the occasional pie.) You asked him to tell you what each of the rooms upstairs would be and you realized that the window of his room faced yours directly. The blinds were down as they had always been, so you hadn’t known what the room would be.

“I’ve been sleeping on the couch since I haven’t gotten around to fixing up this room yet. Guess I should get to it, though,” he says, giving you a look that blurs the meaning of his words so that you’re not sure what he’s implying, which happens a bit too often with Sunghoon.

And you’d think that spending the better part of two weeks with the current man of your dreams would be amazing, right? 

Wrong. It’s unbearable.

Maybe that’s exaggerating it - it’s mostly fun, and sometimes unbearable. Usually, you’re an avid fan of sexual tension, especially with attractive men like Sunghoon. Lingering gazes, eye contacts when there shouldn’t be any, remarks with a deeper meaning that they let on, barely-there touches on the back of your hand or on your waist that manage to take your breath away. These are all very fine things that keep your heart bouncing and a blush on your cheeks, but they are supposed to amount to something more in the end. Maybe you’re impatient, but after two weeks of sending sex through your eyes to Sunghoon, you get the feeling that he doesn’t reciprocate your desire. One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house. When he came back about ten minutes later, he could still barely look at you.

At the same time, there’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he stands close behind you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest against your back, big, rough hands enveloping yours as he demonstrates how to cut a plank of wood with the machine. There’s no way the way he smirks when the action turns you into a stammering mess is innocent, either.

Yet nothing happens. The tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife, but maybe Sunghoon hasn’t bought cutlery yet. The air is already heavy from the heat and the relentlessness of the sun, but this thing between you and him makes it almost suffocating, in somehow the best yet worst way possible. You’re this close to simply throwing your naked body at him, and it doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday. On the days he wears shorts, which is most days, all you can think of is getting off on his thick thighs, of his hands holding you tightly by the waist, of the way he’d look at you, eyes clouded over, of the words he’d whisper in your-

Your phone buzzes, interrupting you in your horny downward spiral. It’s your dear mother telling you to come home for dinner. As you pick up your phone, a second buzz. Ask Sunghoon if he wants to eat with us. 

You find him in his bedroom, adding the last touches to the walls. “I think I’ll be able to sleep here starting tomorrow night. I just need to go buy a bed,” he says when he sees your figure standing in the doorway.

“We can go together if you want,” you blurt before you can stop yourself. Hoping it’ll make you seem less weird, you add, “I’ve got really good taste in furniture.”

“Is that so?” he questions, turning to you with a smile. “I’d appreciate the second pair of eyes, actually. There’s a lot of things I need to get.”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna comment on it, but I think you’ll end up needing more than a couch, a plastic dining table and two chairs,” you tease, making him roll his eyes lightheartedly. “We can go to that huge second-hand store they have just outside of town. You’ll be surprised how good - and cheap - the furniture is there.”

“Sounds good,” he nods, and checks his watch. “Are you going home?”

“I am. My mom’s invited you over for dinner, if you’d like,” you say, tilting your head at him.

He raises his eyebrows in delighted surprise. “I’d love to. Just need to shower first.”

“That’s fine. I’ll go home, just come over whenever you’re ready.” You exchange quick see you laters and you head home, taking a shower yourself and making sure to use your best-smelling body lotion.

Sunghoon arrives half an hour later with a bouquet of roses in his hands and an award-winning smile on his face. You let him in and he greets your parents, offering your mother the bouquet. “Sorry I took so much time getting here, I wanted to pick these out as a thank you.”

You can tell your mother is pleased to the heavens as she waves him off, leading him inside your house. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr Park-”

“Call me Sunghoon, please,” he says with a warm smile.

“Right, Sunghoon. And no worries, you’re just on time. Please, sit.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Oh, no, you’re working all day fixing up that house, just sit and relax. We’re very happy to have you over, aren’t we?” your mother says, sending a very obvious smile your way, which makes you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head lightly at her, silently telling her to shut up. Sunghoon chuckles at the exchange but says nothing and you want to bury yourself and your mother ten feet underground.

Sunghoon sits across from you at the dinner table, which allows you to stare unabashedly at him as he works his charm on your parents. He’s the neighbor, so technically, he’s not a boyfriend you brought home to meet them, but still, you can’t help but compare him to those few boys that you did bring home. None of them were a disaster, but none of them went as smoothly as this, either. There were always some awkward silences and dry chuckles with your past boyfriends, but Sunghoon clearly knows how to make parents happy. Maybe because he lived with his ex’s parents for so long, or maybe because he’s a parent himself. Either way, it only adds to your desire to take all of his clothes and let him rail you into next week. Too bad he clearly doesn’t feel the same way, you remind yourself with an audible sigh, which makes him look curiously at you, but you brush it off with a smile.

You watch as he accepts a beer, compliments the food and the house, talks football with your dad, accepts another beer, and shares teaching anecdotes with your mom, who herself is an elementary school teacher. You jump in every now and then when you have something witty to add or someone asks your opinion on something, but most of the time, you sit back and enjoy, happy that everything is going well. 

You bring out your infamous cherry pie that you’d baked the previous day along with some vanilla ice cream for dessert, and smile when Sunghoon tells you how much he’d been waiting to have some of it again, trying not to blush as his gaze stays focused on yours for a second too long. Thankfully, your parents don’t notice, too busy cutting themselves a slice. 

He stays for another hour or so, until the sun has set and the streetlamps and the moonlight are the only things keeping the world visible. Your mom forces him to accept tupperwares full of leftovers from the night and makes him promise to come back with his daughter. Sneakily, she tells you to help him carry the tupperwares home even though he’s more than able to do it himself, then hugs him goodbye, hurrying you out of the door.

Sunghoon hasn’t yet changed the lightbulbs to more efficient ones, so his kitchen bathes in the faint glow of the overhead lighting as you put away the leftovers in his fridge. He stands a bit to your right close behind you, closer than needed to simply hand you the tupperwares he was holding. When everything is stored, you turn around, but you’re trapped between his body and his arm that holds the fridge door open. With his free hand, he takes you by the waist and pulls you gently towards him. “Careful,” he says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, and closes the fridge door behind you. 

He’s never been this forward with you, and even though you’ve fantasized many times about this exact moment, now that it’s really happening, you don’t know what to do except to search for an explanation in his eyes. His eyes that are looking right into yours and are a bit clouded over, from the alcohol or the proximity between the two of you or both, you don’t know, but that also have the twinkle of a smile in them. 

His lips are close enough to kiss, you think, and as if on cue, his gaze drifts down to your slightly parted lips. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” he says, before sealing your lips with his own. You respond immediately to his kiss - you’ve thought too much about it to stand there and do nothing - but it’s all so slow and so soft that you’re not sure if it’s actually happening, so dreamlike it all feels.

You’re called back to reality when his other hand finds your waist, your own hands coming up to his shoulders before one of them snakes its way to the nape of his neck, tugging lightly at his hair. This seems to change something in Sunghoon, who all of a sudden tightens his hold on your waist, his arms wrapping around it to bring you closer to him. His kiss gets faster and deeper too, and, to your surprise but not your distaste, a bit desperate. You’re happy if you have on him half of the power he has on you. You taste sweet vanilla ice cream and tangy beer on his tongue, and it’s not at all unpleasant. It makes you want to eat cherries together so you can then taste them in his kiss. 

A lustful sigh escapes your lips and then the warmth disappears all at once. Sunghoon looks at you like you just woke him up from a deep slumber and takes a step back away from you. You call out for him worriedly and the sound of his name seems to make him think he did something terribly wrong.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost inaudible.

“You should go home,” he snaps, then closes his eyes as if in pain, cringing at his harsh tone. “I’m sorry. I think you should go home, it’s getting late,” he repeats, softer this time, but the words still sting.

“O-okay,” you say to the floor, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. You feel like you just got rejected by your high school crush, and the humiliation makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. 

Sunghoon sighs again. “I’ll let you know tomorrow about the furniture shopping, yeah? Chaeryeong is coming in the morning so we can go with her.”

“O-okay,” you repeat, surprised he still wants to do that with you. “Good night, Sunghoon,” you say without looking at him and scurry out of his house.

“Good night, Y/N,” Sunghoon answers to the emptiness after you’ve left, touching his lips with the tips of his fingers and feeling the ghost of your kiss there.

—

Truth be told, you haven’t always loved cherries. Because of a heinous lie your older brother had made you believe when you were just six years old, you hadn’t eaten cherries for two summers in a row. It was the summer your parents had finally allowed you to eat cherries as they came from the trees in your backyard - beforehand, they’d been too scared that you’d choke on the pit or swallow it unknowingly, and had always prepared purées or other forms that cherries can take for you to eat, so to be finally handed the small fruit and told “go ahead, try it,” felt like an honor. 

A simple “don’t forget to spit out the pit” from your mother had sufficed for you to be careful, and yet, your brother had thought a fear tactic would be more effective. “If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 

“Really?” you asked him in disbelief, horror written all over your face as you looked at the seemingly harmless yet deadly fruit in your hand. You’d already eaten two and were in the middle of eating a third; your brother nodding ‘yes’ in response was all it took for you to spit out the cherry furiously and immediately start sobbing, afraid you’d swallowed one even though all three pits were right there on the table, a guarantee that no unwanted flora would grow inside of you. 

Your mother rushed outside at the sound of your wailing and quickly put two and two together when she saw your brother laughing uncontrollably while you hid your face in your hands, desolately imagining your future as a walking cherry tree. She held you tight in her arms as she told your brother off and reassured you that he was just playing a stupid prank on you. Still, the simple thought of swallowing a pit had terrified you and you were unable to eat cherries for the remainder of the summer and the one after that.

This is the story you tell Chaeryeong and her dad as the three of you sit outside together, making them laugh - although, a few minutes later, when Sunghoon is gone to the bathroom away, Chaer leans over the table and whispers, “It’s not true, is it?” so you reassure her that you’ve eaten cherries your whole life and have never had one single root take life in your tummy. 

It’s been a bit over a week after you shared that kiss in his kitchen, and the awkward atmosphere is just starting to fade. You’re glad he didn’t ignore you after that night, even if pretending nothing happened when both of you are very aware that something did happen is only the slightly better alternative. It’s a refreshing change from boys that sleep with you and then act like you don’t exist, for sure.

The kiss hasn’t done anything to burst the tension; if anything, it’s made it even more electric. You catch him looking at your lips more than once and you wonder why he still acts the same way as before when he’s made it very clear he didn’t think kissing you was a good idea. Catching him shirtless one night in his bedroom doesn’t help, and neither does him catching you staring at him - you’d quickly shut the curtains, but it was too late, and he’d seen you ogling his toned chest and abs.

At least, the fact that Chaeryeong is here forces a bubbly atmosphere upon you, and you hope you’re not crazy when you notice him fondly looking at the both of you interacting. Chaer is an outgoing little girl and seems to have liked you as soon as you complimented the toy puppy in her hand, saying you used to have the same and it was your favorite.

The day you went food shopping was practically hell to get through. One evening, you were holding onto Sunghoon for dear life, finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

When it got to the bedroom part of the store, you and Chaer decided to try all the mattresses and find the most comfortable one. You usually were never one for seating and laying on random beds in stores, but there was a kid with you, so you were sure it’d be fine. When you found the one you liked most, you looked up at Sunghoon from your position and said, “This one’s pretty good, Sunghoon.” His immediately reddening cheeks told you everything you needed to know and you quickly sat up, clearing your throat. He tested the mattress by pushing his palm against it and muttered a “yeah, it’s pretty good” before scribbling down the number of the mattress onto the small sheet of paper customers use to remember which products they wanted.

Of course, now that Chaer is with him and most of the work in the house is done, save for some minor things that Sunghoon can finish up on his own, you spend a lot less time together. You hate that you miss him so much. You miss the way he makes you feel, like your whole body is on fire with just one look or one touch, the way his stupid jokes make you laugh or how endeared he looks when he talks about his daughter. Seeing him with her only adds to your stupid crush - he’s doting, protective and caring, makes sure she has everything to be happy and manages to treat her at once like the kid that she is but also like a human that has opinions and feelings. He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

You hate that you miss him, and yet being with him is somehow worse, because you can’t do any of the things you want to do. You fall asleep one two many nights dreaming about his lips and how nice it’d be to feel them again - on your lips, on your neck, everywhere. You want to feel him everywhere, and this longing lust is starting to drive you crazy. You’d never wanted anyone this much.

He invites you over for dinner one night, and the look he gives you when he opens the door sends a shiver right down your spine. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Sunghoon.”

He leads you into the kitchen with a hand on your waist, even though you’ve been in his house many times before and need no assistance getting there. A small, horny voice at the back of your head tells you that tonight may be the night, but you quickly shut it down, not wanting to get your hopes up all on your own.

Sunghoon serves you a glass of red wine, and you ask him what the occasion is. “Just to celebrate the house being almost done,” he answers with a smile.

Dinner would have gone as usual if Sunghoon wasn’t practically staring you down the whole time, eyes full of something you can’t quite put your finger on and that drives you crazy. His gaze lingers on you every time you speak, and he punctuates the syllables of your name like he’s trying to get a feel for them on his tongue.

Your heart is pounding in your chest when the clock strikes nine p.m. and it’s time for Chaeryeong to go to bed - you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle being alone with Sunghoon, and you might have to make a run for it, Cinderella-style. 

Chaer goes to the bathroom to wash up and change into her pajamas, and when she comes back, she asks - no, demands - that you’re the one who tucks her in, and who are you to say no to the cutest little girl on Earth? She holds you by the pinky as she drags you up the stairs to her room then buries herself in her covers, tapping on the bed next to her body for you to sit there. “Okay, now we can talk without Dad around,” she says all business-like.

She tells you about the boys at her school and the birthday party she went to last week and the latest drama with her friends. The both of you are too busy chatting and giggling to hear footsteps coming up the stairs and stopping at her door, hiding behind the wall. After ten minutes, she yawns loudly and says, “Can you call Dad? I think he’ll be sad if he doesn’t wish me good night.”

“Of course,” you reply and kiss her on the forehead, wishing her a good night yourself. You’re only half-surprised to find Sunghoon at the doorway, waiting for his cue.

“Wait up for me, yeah? I’ll just be a minute,” he says, that smile still on his lips, that smile that keeps you hoping.

“Okay,” you whisper, and head downstairs, nervously taking a sip from your wine glass as you wait for him on the living room couch.

He is indeed back in a very short time, too short a time for your nerves to settle, so when he sits down close to you on the couch, body turned towards yours, you can feel your heart in your throat. He traces the rim of his glass with the tip of his pointer finger and you both watch the slow movement for a bit, a heavy silence hanging over both of your heads. You wait for him to talk because you’re too scared of what you might say if you start the conversation.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he starts shakily, “about um, our kiss, the other day-”

“Oh, we don’t need to talk about that,” you quickly interrupt, waving your hand in dismissal at him. “You made it clear you didn’t like it-”

“No, that’s the thing-”

“And that you thought it was a bad idea-”

“No, just listen-”

“So let’s just forget about it, and-”

“Y/N,” Sunghoon says in a stern voice, raising his tone just enough to make you stop in your rambling.

“Yeah?” you look up at him, eyes wide open. Expecting, as always.

“I haven’t once stopped thinking about that kiss,” he says, sounding out-of-breath. “I handled it awfully, and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t like it, because, God, I liked it. A lot,” he chuckles. “Maybe even too much.”

There they are, the words you’ve been dying to hear. Yet all you can say is a stupid “Oh.”

“I just… I was tipsy, and Chaeryeong was coming the next morning, and I panicked. I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the week, and you didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. But I can’t pretend like it isn’t there.”

“Like what isn’t there?” you echo, voice almost low as a whisper.

“You know… this,” he replies, voice as low as yours. Slowly, one of his hands comes up to trace your jawline. You release a shaky breath as you set your wine glass on the coffee table and rest your hand on his knee.

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,” you murmur, hands slowly sliding up his thigh. He takes you by the wrist and puts your hand right on top of his already growing erection, letting you know exactly how he feels about you.

“God, can’t you see what you do to me? I want you so bad, Y/N,” he almost growls, and with that, his lips are on yours, trapping you into a kiss far hungrier and more ferocious than the previous kiss, your mutual intentions finally laid out in front of you for you both to see.

Sunghoon wastes no time as he grabs you by the waist and brings you to his lap, sitting you on top of his crotch so that you can feel his hardening cock against your core. The kiss turns desperate in mere seconds, and you’re relieved to see that Sunghoon seems to have been waiting for this as long and with as much ardor as you have. Your hands are fisting his hair, tugging almost harshly, while his hands roam the expanse of your back until they settle on your ass, grabbing at it to press you closer to him. You can’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth when his erection rubs over your core in just the right way, and he takes that opportunity to add tongue to the kiss, deepening it.

You start to grind yourself against him, which he helps you do by slightly rutting his hips into yours and bringing your ass closer at every movement. Quickly, you fall into a rhythm so perfect and that feels so good, you think you might explode right then and there. Forget riding his thigh, this is infinitely better.

Needing to catch your breath, you pull away from the kiss, but your lips find his jaw immediately and you start pressing wet, needy kisses there and down his neck, sucking in some spots so that light bruises appear. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so nice,” he breathes, eyes shut closed. His scent drives you crazy, and his small praise makes you double down on your actions, almost biting the soft skin of his neck.

As you continue kissing him there, occasionally returning to his lips for more, his hands roam your thighs and then up your back, snaking themselves under your t-shirt and finding the clasp of your bra, quickly doing away with it. He pulls away just so he can help you out of your top and takes your bra off of you, hands caressing your sides as he admires your half-naked body in all its glory. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, resting your hands on top of his as you continue grinding onto him and let him play with your boobs. “You’re so fucking hot,” he practically moans, making you chuckle. You reach for the hem of his t-shirt, because it’s only fair that you get to see him too, and you bite back a moan when he uses the absence of your hands on his to pinch your nipples lightly, then takes one in his mouth, catching you off-guard. You forget all about your plan of undressing him as his tongue flicks at the perked bud, your hands finding his hair again as you moan unabashedly. 

“S-Sunghoon,” you breathe, the combined feelings of his now fully hard cock pressing against your clothed but soaking cunt and of his warm mouth around your nipples really getting to your head and making you see stars, so that all you can say is his name. “Please,” you beg, you’re not sure what for. Mercy, perhaps. Or release.

“Please what, baby?” he asks, and the nickname goes straight to your core.

“I don’t- just, please, Sunghoon, please,” you say incoherently, making him chuckle.

“Okay,” he says as if he can read your mind, and you think he actually does when he lays you down on the couch, fingers finding the zipper of your shorts. He unbuttons them and slides them down your legs along with your soaked panties. He makes sure they’re fully off of your body before running his palms up both of your legs, from your ankles to your hips.

“Don’t tease, please,” you plead, too desperate for him to take his time.

“As you wish, princess,” he smirks, and brings a finger to your folds, sliding it down to gather some slick before pushing it inside your hole. Your back arches as an instant response to his touch and you let out a small whine, already craving for more. “Fuck, so wet, and all for me, yeah?” he questions, his eyes not once leaving your glistening pussy.

“Yes,” you breathe out, mind too fuzzy to produce a longer sentence.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos, and adds another finger, pushing all three of his knuckles in and massaging your sweet spot as soon as he finds it. When he’s found a rhythm for his motions, he finally looks up at you and curses himself for not having watched your face earlier. Head tilted back in pleasure, mouth agape as your breathing gets more and more irregular and eyebrows scrunched together, you look like the definition of sex, and it takes everything in Sunghoon to not start touching himself.

He forces himself to look away from you only to focus back on your pussy and notices your swollen clit that is begging for attention. He licks it tentatively, and when your back arches at the feeling of his tongue on you, he dives in completely, licking a stripe up your folds before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking at it like he did with your nipples earlier. The pace at which his fingers are pumping out of you quickens and you’re pulling so hard at his hair, you think you might rip some strands off. You feel yourself getting close, and you’re reminded of all those frustrating encounters with college boys where they stopped right before you came, so you can’t stop yourself as you desperately chant “oh my God please don’t stop please don’t stop,” not even noticing the way you’re holding his head down against your clit and bucking your hips into his face.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck - this is probably the first one you’ve received from someone other than your own hand or your vibrator in the past year and a half. It takes your breath away, and you’re left gasping for air for a good thirty seconds, your mind reeling from the intensity of such pleasure. When you calm down, you lift your head to look at Sunghoon who’s already watching you with a grin on his face, your slick coating his chin and mouth.

You plop your head back down with a groan when realization hits you. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Sunghoon commands, hands rubbing your still-trembling thighs. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he marvels, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Really?”

“Really.”

After another couple of seconds, you sit up on the couch and send Sunghoon a mischievous look. My turn, you think, and if his smile is any indicator then he seems to have understood. “Let me thank you,” you say, gesturing at him to sit up himself as you lower yourself to your knees on the couch in front of him.

You look up at him from between his thighs then unclasp his belt and undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath and says, “You don’t need to do this, you know-”

“Don’t be a gentleman, Sunghoon. I want to do this and I know you want it too. It’s pretty obvious,” you tease as you run your hand over his erection, watching in delight as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes close. “Now help me get these off of you.” He nods and raises his hips so you can take his jeans and underwear off, imitating his actions from before as you take your time to get them over his ankles and caressing his legs until they reach his crotch, watching as he takes his t-shirt off as well so that you can finally see him entirely. You’d caught glimpse of him shirtless before as he worked in his garden, but the sight still manages to take your breath away. Taut muscles and sun-tanned skin, laid bare right before you. This is what they mean by sculpted like a Greek god, you think.

You haven’t done anything, yet his head is already laid back against the top of the couch, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps in expectation and chest rising visibly at every intake of breath. You must’ve saved a thousand souls in your previous life to be deserving of such an image.

You spit in your palm before taking him, starting out by slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, then rubbing small circles against his tip, the small moan-like sighs that leave his lips letting you know you’re doing a good job. You gather some saliva in your mouth and spit on his length to add some lubricant and smirk when he lets out a low fuck. You bring your head closer and lick his balls, taking one at a time in your mouth and sucking very gently, making the volume of his moans increase. “Just like- fuck, just like that, Y/N.”

You then lick a long stripe up his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip when you reach it, humming at the taste of precum there. Sunghoon gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it doesn’t get in your way, and finally looks down at you, blown away by the beautiful sight of your flushed cheeks and your mouth around his cock. He groans when you take him deeper and unconsciously bucks his hips into your throat, making you gag around him. He loves that feeling but doesn’t want to hurt you so he grabs your face and makes you look up at him, lust and worry written all over his face as he apologizes, but you quickly stop him. “It’s okay, I like it. You can do it again,” you say, and smile before wrapping your lips around him once more.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks and you hum, sending vibrations all over his body.

“God, o-okay,” he says, in disbelief that you’re okay with him practically fucking your throat and even liking it. And you do like it - you love letting him use your mouth to get off, just like you had earlier with him. He must have amazing core strength because he’s able to buck his hips into your mouth rapidly as he holds your head tight in his hands. The way you keep coming back for more every time he lets you breathe is enough to drive him crazy, but after a couple minutes, he stops you from taking him in your mouth again.

“I can’t- I don’t wanna cum like this,” he breathes, looking just as fucked-out as you do.

“Where, then?” you ask, kissing him all over his thighs as he trails his fingers through your hair. “Inside?”

He groans at the offer but shakes his head, eyes shut as if trying to calm himself down. “I haven’t got any condoms.”

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him, still pressing kisses on his warm skin. You’re far too desperate to feel him inside you to let a lack of condom stop you, especially when you don’t even need one.

He lets out an umpteenth shaky breath and makes you look up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Sunghoon,” you say, looking him dead in the eyes, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” You’re relieved when he smiles and nods, bending down to trap your lips in a heated kiss for good measure. Something about being in this position, kneeling in front of his spread thighs and having to look up at him, turns you on even more.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling as he pulls away, holding you gently by the chin. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last long, and I want to feel you cum around me. So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

The question takes you aback but you answer it anyway, looking at the ground. “Reverse cowgirl…” you admit shyly, a small smile spreading on your lips.

“Reverse cowgirl, huh?” Sunghoon repeats, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Come here, then,” he says, and helps you up, making you turn around so your back faces him and seats you down on top of him, keeping your hips raised. He takes his cock inside his hands, pumps it a few more times before guiding it to your entrance, pressing kisses to your shoulders and nape to make you relax. 

You moan at the simple feeling of his tip teasing your entrance and Sunghoon whispers “I know, baby” against your skin. “Sit down for me,” he commands gently, and you oblige, lowering your hips slowly to feel all of him stretching you out, the both of you moaning in synchronization when he bottoms out.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your middle and pulls you onto him so that your back rests against his chest and you can let your head hang back next to his. “Let me do all the work, yeah?” he murmurs into your ear, and you hum in response. He doesn’t move for a bit, roaming his large hands all over your body until he feels your walls relax around him. One of his hands finds your breasts, playing with each nipple in turn, while the other finds your clit. It’s all so much but so good that you’re already a moaning mess before he’s even started moving. “Ready?” he asks, but you’re too far gone to answer.

His pace starts out slow, but you’re impatient and whine as you try to move your hips against his to go faster, which makes him tut. “I told you I’d do the work, didn’t I?” he asks, pinching one of your nipples in reprimand. “So be good for me and stay still, Y/N. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” You whine again but stop moving, heeding his words.

“Perfect,” he whispers and kisses your neck before picking up the pace, shushing you when your moans get too loud.

“I’m sorry, just feels too good,” you manage to let out.

“I know, but you need to stay quiet, baby,” he says, yet gets rougher with his thrusts, which does not help in the slightest. His hand that was on your breasts comes up to cover your mouth, but he quickly decides to make you suck on two of his fingers instead, muffling your moans a bit.

His fingers on your clit haven’t relented this whole time and after just a few minutes, you feel that familiar knot tying itself again in your stomach and you know you’re mere moments away from it coming undone. Judging by his rapid but clumsy thrusts, Sunghoon must be close too. He pounds into you like you’ve been wanting him to ever since you first set eyes on him as he entered the hardware store, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Tears roll down your cheeks and you whimper around his fingers, biting down on them as your second orgasm hits you.

You’re practically sobbing as he helps you ride out your high, his movements sending your body into pleasant overstimulation until he reaches his high too, the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him pushing him over the edge. Ropes of his semen paint your walls white, and there’s enough of it for him to become a father of two. You whine as he pulls away, and feel his cum slipping out of you and onto the couch underneath you. Before you can catch your breath, he asks, “Baby, can I do something very dirty?” and you nod without thinking much. This man could do anything he wanted to you, and you’d thank him for it.

He settles you back down onto the couch, kneels on the floor, head level with your core, and sticks his tongue inside your hole, making you yelp in surprise and overstimulation. You don’t understand what he’s doing until he comes back up and makes you open your mouth with his thumb, then spits inside it, telling you to swallow. You do as he says and taste his cum, laughing in disbelief at what he just did - and at how much you liked it. “Fuck,” you giggle.

“Was that too much?” 

“God, no,” you say, and he smiles. You open your arms, gesturing for him to get back on the couch. He rests his head between your breasts, the both of you sighing in contentment as he rubs small circles on your belly and you graze your fingers through his hair. He’s so silent that you think he’s fallen asleep, but he speaks up after a while, voice soft and calm like you’ve never heard before.

“We should go get cleaned up…” he says, and you hum in agreement, “...but it’s so nice here,” he finishes, making you giggle.

“If we get cleaned up quickly now, we can cuddle in bed right afterwards,” you argue.

“You’re right. Infallible logic. You’re so smart, you know that, Y/N?” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I know that,” you joke. “Let’s go,” you say, kissing the top of his head.

You take a shower together, cleaning each other and leaving kisses here and there, or touching in places you shouldn’t touch and that maybe lead to more, right there in the shower. Now that you’ve had a taste, you’re insatiable, and you warn Sunghoon that the both of you are in for a very long night, to which he answers that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you do fall asleep, (which isn’t until two rounds later, and you’re surprised either of you have this much energy), however, you’re holding each other tightly, the fan on high so that you don’t feel all sticky, being so close to each other. Even if you wake up here and there because he shuffled or he snored too loudly, it’s one of the best sleeps you’ve ever had.

—

You wake up the next morning by small giggles and snorts that come from none other than Park Chaeryeong herself, who’s buried herself between you and her dad, shaking her body to wake the two of you. You’re glad that you listened to Sunghoon when he told you to put on a t-shirt of his as well as some underwear so neither you or Chaer would have a fright when she came and woke you up as she liked to do every morning. “You had a sleepover!” she exclaims excitedly when she sees you’ve finally opened your eyes, looking at her with a sleepy expression and a smile.

“We did!” you reply, trying to keep the same level of excitement.

“We did,” Sunghoon repeats, taking his daughter in her arms to hug her tightly and blows a raspberry in her neck to make her laugh.

“You didn’t invite me!” she shrieks when her dad’s left her alone.

“Sorry, sweetheart. It was just me and Y/N.”

“No fun,” she pouts, laying on her back and crossing over arms before turning back to her dad. “So, is Y/N my new mom?” she whispers even though you’re right there. You gasp at her question, making wide eyes at Sunghoon who just snorts, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely asking or if she’s an eight-year-old with an advanced sense of irony.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.

“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.”

“Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

“She is,” you reply, and Chaer turns back to you, giggling. She snuggles close to you, wrapping an arm around your middle, and you’re taken aback by the sheer cuteness of it all. You look at Sunghoon with a fake pained expression, and he smiles endearingly at the two of you before sighing and joining you in your hug. He rests his arms around you and his daughter, kissing the top of your heads in turn. 

“My girls,” he mutters in your hair, and you smile peacefully.

There’s a lot of things you have to talk about with Sunghoon. You know your parents - especially your mom - will be okay with the two of you together, but will his parents be? And once semester starts again, what will happen? You’ll have to go back to campus and he’ll have to stay here - will a three-hour drive be a dealbreaker, or will you make it work?

The thing is, there’s no point in thinking about all of this at this moment. You’ve got the whole summer to figure things out. For now, you’ll eat cherries and spit out the pits, and everything will be perfect.

this is a one shot, there will not be a part two!

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[love2write2626]

Chasing The Wind (Tyler Owens x OFC)

Summary: Five years have gone by since the life-altering storm chase that impacted Y/N and her sister Kate. Through the years Y/N has experienced Highs and lows, but eventually found her place with Tyler and The rest of the Tornado Wranglers. However, when Kate returns home to collaborate with Storm Par, Y/N attempts to mend their relationship only to be rebuffed. It appears that Kate is solely heeding Javi's words and disregarding reality. Will she be able to make Kate see the truth?

Read the Prologue here

Chapter 1

5 Years Later

“Bye Mama” I said hugging her

“Bye sweetheart, thank you for coming to visit” I smiled

“Of course, Mama” I got out of the car, and as I’m walking to the diner she yells “Y/N!” I turn around “You tell Tyler to be careful” I rolled my eyes

“We will be careful” She squinted her eyes suspiciously

“I’m telling you, if you get hurt, I am coming for him” I laughed

“Ok mom, I’ll tell him”

“That’s all I ask. Love you sweetie”

“Love you too” I waved as she drove off. I looked around the old Diner, I haven’t been here in a while. It looks pretty much the same, just a little worn down. The parking lot is full of wanna be storm chasers waiting for news of a big twister coming so they can go and take lots of pictures.

As I walk further I let out a scoff when I see Storm Par waiting in the wings. Javi and I started Storm Par and I was so excited. Then Javi brought in a new business partner and I kind of got pushed to the side, which I didn’t mind all that much at first, but when I saw the shady investors they were dealing with I packed up my stuff and left. When we started we were in the business of helping people, now It seems they are in the business of just making money.

Scott, Javi’s business partner saw me and gave me a cocky smirk before turning around and went back to his conversation.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After quickly running to the bathroom I walk back out and stop in my tracks when I see Javi, and “KATE?” I yelled. Her head snapped up and she gave me a slight smile, but didn’t seem that happy to see me. I walked over and gave her a hug, even though she didn’t return it I didn’t care

“Hey sis” Kate said “What are you doing out here? Are you still chasing?” She asked

“Yeah, You would know that If you answered my calls” I said with a laugh, she frowned

“I’m not that good with communication Y/N” I nodded, Javi walked over to us and I glared at him. This man use to be one of my best friends now I can’t stand the sight of him.

“Hey, Y/N”

“Javi” I greeted, turning my head back to Kate

“So what are you doing out here?” I asked her

“I convinced her to come out for a week, to help us get our data. You know she has the best instincts.”

“I believe I was talking to my sister, not you” I said

“Y/N, Chill” Javi said, I know my face was full of anger “Kate is in safe hands with Storm Par… you know better than anyone we have some of the best safety protocols” Kate looked in-between the two of us.

“Y/N, you chase with Storm Par? Why didn’t you tell me Javi?” She asked confused

“No, No she use to work with us, hell this company was her idea… Our baby if you will” I rolled my eyes, and let out a sarcastic laugh “Then she ditched us to go be with some less funded storm chasers”

“That’s not the full story Javi and you know it, maybe you should tell her the truth about where all the money comes from and how you are nothing but a fraud” Kate put her hand up

“Y/N stop, Javi is our friend”

“Maybe your friend, he hasn’t been mine in a long time” We were cut off by loud music coming into the parking lot, and even though I was not in a particularly good mood, I still couldn’t help but smile when I saw Tyler drive up

“Behold, Tyler Owens” Javi said

“Who is he?” Kate asked, but before I have a chance to answer Javi said

“Redneck storm chasers with a youtube channel” I rolled my eyes “Him and his group including Y/N, call themselves Tornado Wranglers. The go around and do crazy stunts and stupid shit that is going to get them all killed one day” of course he leaves out the part about how we help the community and help get people food and water, but whatever. Kate turned to me

“You left Storm Par for that”

“I did, but I’m not going to explain myself to you sis. Go ahead and believe every word out of Javi’s mouth, but when you’re ready to hear the true story you have my number” I said walking over to the truck. I pushed my way through the adoring fans, and When Tyler saw me he smiled brightly.

“ONE MORE TIME, IF YOU FEEL IT…”

“CHASE IT” everyone yelled back, He hopped down off the running board and took my hand in his.

“Hey baby” he finally said to me, I wrapped my arms around him, and he immediately hugged me back. “You ok?” he asked.

“Not really, but I’m happy you’re here” He ran his hands up and down my back

“C’mon” He said, he grabbed my hand and pulled me with him, I couldn’t help but giggle, I have no idea where we are going but I don’t care I would follow Tyler anywhere. I love this man with all my heart. He is the smartest, funniest, kindest, hottest man I have ever met in my life. He pulled me around the back of the diner, and once we were out of sight of everyone. We stopped walking.

“I have a good idea of what we are doing back here Ty, but do you wanna tell me why you dragged me back here?” I smirked. Without saying a word or breaking eye contact. He walked me back against the wall.

“You look so fucking sexy when you wear my shirts” I looked down at what I am wearing, Tyler’s shirts get torn up a lot so most of the time instead of throwing them out, I will cut them into a crop top or something, and it turns him feral. He nuzzled his face into my neck, and started leaving light kisses “I missed you, next time you are coming to Arkansas with me”

“I missed you too, and you got it” I giggled. “What?” I asked when I noticed he was staring at me.

“Nothing, just Sometimes I just like to look at you just because you are so beautiful” I frowned

“Ty” I said attempting to push him away. He knows I hate being called pretty, or beautiful because I’m not. My body is covered in horrible scars from the accident 5 years ago. My car flipped 10 times, I know I am lucky because I could be dead, but it doesn’t make it any easier. His hard strong body stopped made it easy for him to keep me pushed against the wall.

“Y/N, Baby” He whispered into my ear. I felt a shiver run down my spine “You are a fucking goddess, the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. You are beautiful, funny, smart, and a whirlwind and I love you more than anything in this world. The scars are just proof of how strong you are, in my eyes they make you 10x more beautiful than you already are.” I know I have tears in my eyes. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck.

“I love you too, Now will you please kiss me?” he smirked, he leaned down and brought his lips to mine. I sighed into the kiss, He has been gone a week, and a week without kissing him has been torture. I felt his hands run down my back, and down to my butt. He squeezed my ass, and I broke the kiss to let out a little laugh and squeal.

“TYLER” I giggled. Without warning he immediately lifted me up, I wrapped my legs around his waist and made sure I held tight as he pushed me back against the wall and we continued to make out.

“Tyler and Y/N! Can ya’ll stop sucking face for 2 seconds so we can go chase a storm?” Boone yelled, I giggled.

“We’ll be there in a minute Boone” Tyler said. Once Boone walked away, I Jumped down and sighed.

“That was cut much shorter than I would have liked” I mumbled

“Don’t worry baby, tonight we make up for a week of no alone time” I giggled. He grabbed my hand and we started walking toward the truck. When I heard

“Y/N” I turned around and saw Kate running over to me. Tyler looked at me suspiciously, I smiled

“Go ahead I’ll be there in a second” He nodded before walking off.

“Javi just told me all about Tyler and ya’ll Tornado Wranglers” I smirked

“And?” I said waiting for her to continue

“Y/N, how could you abandon Storm Par, and Javi for that jerk. Are you sleeping with him?” I looked at her shocked.

“I see Javi didn’t tell you the truth, so don’t come over here and make me out to be some sort of bad guy. You don’t know the full story, but by all means listen to Javi and not your own sister.” I started to walk away, and she yelled.

“Javi wouldn’t lie to me” She said I nodded

“Sure he wouldn’t” I started to walk away again when I yelled back, “Oh by the way I am sleeping with Tyler by the way, it’s quite normal for women to sleep with their fiancé’s”

“You’re… you’re getting married?”

“You would have known that if you answered any of my calls” I sighed “You know sis, I don’t know what Javi did or said to get you to come back out here… but just so you know he has other motives.” I walked back toward the truck, I opened the passenger door

“Boone get in the back” Tyler said

“Why?” I sighed

“Boone get in the damn back, before I make you stay here” He grumbled and climbed in.

“Ready baby?” Tyler asked

“Always”

What do you think??? Is this worth being continued???? Leave a comment and let me know.

[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?

[princesssmars]

making abby squirt with the nails she just paid for…nsfw.

you had seen the cutest nail set one of your friends got on her instant story, and after complimenting her and getting the techs account you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening a little at the prices.

but you only get time to pout about it for a few minutes before abby is prodding you about what’s wrong, scoffing at your complaint about the expensive service and telling you that she’ll ’handle it’.

you almost thought she was kidding until she urged you to book the appointment, even driving you to the location and putting the cash in your hand with a kiss.

so what better way to admire your new nails and repay the favor to abby then to make her go crazy with pleasure beneath you?

well, technically in front of you, trapped between your legs as the both of you face your floor length mirror. convincing her to not only completely bottom for a night but to also use a mirror was a challenge, but with some pleading and batted eyelashes she gave in.

it’s funny to think about, how she tried to be so tough and act like she she didn’t want to be on the bottom like she wasn’t currently moaning and twitching like her life depended on it. you bring up a hand that was grasping her large thigh up to her breast, lightly pinching her left nipple and giggling at the broken sob that leaves her lips.

“please, please, ‘s too much.” her begging is raspy, throat strained by the constant use of her voice. her hands are tied up behind her back and you can feel her trying to free them by the jabbing of her shoulders into yours.

“aww, poor baby.” you coo, pressing sweet kisses to the side of her cheek and neck, heart warming when she pushes her head back onto your shoulder for more affection.

“you’ve only had three, and you always give me at least five. what’s wrong, can dish it but can’t take it?”

she lets out a groan as you simultaneously bite her neck while moving your right hand back down to her pussy, not bothering with teasing her further and instantly going to rub over her clit until she’s the one biting into your neck, hips jerking and mumbling words you can’t make out other than that she’s so close, she’s so god damn close-

you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing as a steady stream of liquid ejects from her, squirting onto the sheets, the floor, even the fucking mirror, giving you the perfect view of the sight of her cumming with your hand still rubbing between her legs, too weak to close her legs to stop you.

all too soon her body calms down, sweaty heap of muscles resting into your chest as her chest rises and falls while she tries to catch her breath. her eyes are closed while she tries to bring herself back, only opening when she hears the telltale sign of you sucking your fingers, hoping it doesn’t show on her face that the heat is already growing again between her thighs.

“can i pay for your nails every time if you do this?”

“of course you can, baby.”

“great. really great. geez, what’ll happen if i pay for your hair appointment next?”

“i’m getting you pregnant, is what.”

“wait, what?”

sorry i thought the ending was funny. idk why i’m writing so much bottom abby am i giving fake pillow princess. ok bye.

[selfloverrrrrr]

Request:

Yandere Sukuna noncon's the reincarnation of his late unwilling wife.

Reborn..?

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

I'm a student of jujutsu high Tokyo. I'm a first year.... Gojo satoru is the one who took the responsibility to make us understand our cursed energy and how to use. And us means me and my friends. Actually We're best friends... Me, Yuji, Megumi and Nobara.

IT was a normal day. I was gossiping with my friends. Yuji and Nobara. Megumi just left the room because he got a call from someone. He just left. So we three were gossiping when Yuji mentioned how much disgusting Sukuna's fingers tastes. Sukuna, about whom I heard that he's possessing over Yuji's body. But I haven't seen him yet.

"Hey...it can't be that much disgusting taste!" I said. "No y/n believe me!!! It's taste is so disgusting!" Yuji replied. "How can I say? I haven't tasted it...lol" I said. "But you can..." Yuji said. "What?!" I asked. " I have a finger... you wanna taste it???" Yuji replied. "Do you think it's safe?" Nobara asked Yuji. " Yes I do... cause I haven't eat so many fingers... I have just eat two fingers...so I don't think three fingers will do anything " Yuji replied. "Sounds interesting... give me the finger " I said.

Yuji handed me a Sukuna's finger. I unwrapped it and put it inside my mouth. And ewwww....it does taste disgusting!!! I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed it anyway. "How was it???" Nobara asked. "What did my expression said??!!! Ewwwwwww" I replied. "Hahaha told you" Yuji said. "Ok ok but don't tell it to anyone else...or else you gonna be in trouble!" I said. Nobara and Yuji nodded.

After a while Megumi returned. "Who's call was it?" Yuji asked. " It was Gojo sensei...he told us to return to droom" Megumi said. "Ah okay then... let's go...bye, see y'all tomorrow" I said. And give me a good bye back. After that we all went back to our room. And I was too tired so I changed my clothes and went to sleep.

I fell asleep. But all of a sudden I saw a dark place. Then I saw a red light. When I went close to that light I saw skulls everywhere! I got scared why is so many skulls here?! Then I saw a throne on all of those skulls. And a guy was sitting on the throne wearing white kimono.

"Who the hell do you think you are to come here without my permi-" he paused his sentence when he looked at me. "Y/n?" He spoke again. Who is he? And how did he know my name? Within a blink of eye he was standing infront of me. I screamed and almost fell on my back but he grabbed my hand.

He pulled me towards him and grabbed my waist. "Y/n....?....how?!" He said. "Who the hell are you??? Let me go!!!!" I screamed. "You don't know me?" He asked. "No I don't!! I'm asking you who are you???" I asked. "Y/n...clam down. Try to remember! I'm Ryomen Sukuna.... your husband!!!" He replied.

My eyes widened. So he is Ryomen Sukuna??? But why is he saying that he's my husband?! "No I don't know you and I'm not your wife" I replied. He stared at me for a second. "What's your name?" He asked. "Y/n l/n" I replied. "Rebirth... I see" he said.

"What are you talking about" I asked. He looked at me and smirked. "You died...in your past life. You were my wife. Someone poisoned your food. I don't know who or how....but let's not talk about that time... I don't wanna remember it. Now look... I got you again" he said still smirking at me. I tried to push him away. "Let go off me!! I'm not your wife....let me go!" I said. "You know what? First time I liked something which is done by that brat" he said. He was holding me too tightly with his body.

"I don't want to know anything just let me go!!!!" I said and tried to push him away. But his grip was too strong. "Tsk tsk... I found you after fucking 1000 years! And you think I would let you go" he said. I started crying in fear. "Yuji!!!! Nobara!!!!!! Megumi!!!!!! Gojo Sensei!!!!! Please someone help me!!!!" I screamed with all of my power. Sukuna smirked. "Noone hear you darling.... Noone is gonna help you!" He said and cackled. "W-what.... w-what do y-you want?" I sobbed. "What I want?" He spoke. I stared at him with teary eyes. "Are you a virgin, y/n?" He asked with a smirk. I could feel where it's going. He grabbed my face and dig his nails in my cheeks "I asked you a fucking question" he said with grinded teeth. I just nodded. "You waited for me to take your virginity again?" He said. I still tried to push him away but he was laughing at my weak attempts.

He threw me on the floor. Took off his kimono and threw it on the floor then knelt on the floor infront of me and started crawling towards me on the bed."please stop" I said and tried to push myself backwards but he grabbed my leg and pulled me towards him. I gasped. He was still smirking."stop?... You should be great full that it's your husband who's taking your virginity! The fun part is about to began ~" he whispered and crashed his lips on mine.

I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my top and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "S-stop ...... Oh god please stopppp" I scremed but he didn't stop.

Then he took off my pant and then took off my pantie."spread those legs wider, slut " he whispered and then looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " filthy whore is fucking wet". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pant.

His dick sprang out. It was big and thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I scremed. " You whores will never learn how to behave " He said and slapped me. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was licking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly "you're still fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Stop struggling slut...!!!" He screamed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. My vision blurred out. All of sudden I woke up taking deep breath and saw everyone sitting infront of me.

Megumi's POV

I was laying on my bed and scrolling through my phone. Suddenly I heard a scream. "Yuji!!!! Nobara!!!!!! Megumi!!!!!! Gojo Sensei!!!!! Please someone help me!!!!" I heard that scream and get off my phone. I knew it was y/n's voice. I run out of my room. I saw Yuji and Nobara also run out of their rooms. "Did you all heard that scream too?" I asked. " Yes we did" Yuji and Nobara said together. We all rush towards y/n's room.

"y/n!!!! Open the door!!!! What happened??? We're here... open the door!!" We all screamed. But not a single answer came. "We have to call Gojo Sensei" I said and called Gojo. "Hmm Megumi" Gojo pickup the call. "Sensei whatever you are doing right now stop that there and just run infront of y/n's room" I said. "What happened?" He asked. "We even don't know what happened! She was screaming for our help...she was screaming for your help too!" I said. "Hold on" Gojo replied and he teleported himself infornt of us. "Is she inside?" Gojo asked. "Yes" we replied.

Gojo teleported himself inside y/n's room and opened the door. We all went inside. We saw y/n on her bed. She was shaking in her sleep as if she was struggling with something and she was groaning too. We all rushed towards her bed and tried to wake her up. "Y/n wake up! What happened?" I asked. "What the-... why can I feel Sukuna's energy inside her?" Gojo asked seriously. He was too serious. I was shocked. Sukuna's energy inside of y/n??? How's that possible?! Gojo was glaring at us. "Sukuna's energy? But how's that possible?" I asked.

"I'm asking the same question to you all!!!" Gojo said angryly. "A-actually sensei...." Yuji began to speak "we all were playing... and we feed her one of Sukuna's fingers " Yuji said. "What!!!" I and gojo exclaimed together. "Yuji that's a special grade curse spirit! Not a play thing!!!" Gojo screamed. Yuji and Nobara were silent. "Megumi quickly go to the office room at the ground floor and there's a Sukuna's finger... quickly bring it here" Gojo said and I run to bring the finger.

Gojo's POV

After a while Megumi returned with the finger. "Yuji...eat it" I said. "W-what...oh ok ok" Yuji replied. Megumi sit on the bed and gave Yuji the finger. Yuji unsealed it and put it in his mouth. He swallowed it. Immediately y/n woke up taking deep breath. She took some breath then looked at Megumi. She grabbed Megumi's hand "M-Megumi please... P-Please call Gojo Sensei" she sobbed. "I'm here" I said putting a hand on her back. She looked at me and hugged me. "S-sensei please.... please I don't want that again... I hate him.... I hate Sukuna" she sobbed. "I know y/n...now clam down and tell us what happened?" I asked. Y/n took a deep breath. "Idk.... Idk what he was saying... believe me I've never seen him in my entire life! Sukuna was shocked when he saw me first. Then he told me that I was his wife 1000 years ago then someone poisoned my food and I died... and he said I reborn again " she said. She's reincarnation of Sukuna's dead wife?! "But sensei I don't know if I was his wife or not but I don't want him" y/n sobbed. "Hey it's okey.... Can you tell us what he did? Why were you screaming for our help?" I asked. "H-he took my...." She began to speak. "Took your what y/n? " Nobara and Megumi asked. "M-my virginity " she whispered. Our eyes widened. I glared at Yuji. "Look what your play have done Yuji!....do not let Sukuna take over you inform of her!" I said. "I'm sorry y/n I didn't know he's gonna do that kind of anything!!!...and Sensei don't worry I won't let him out infront of her" Yuji replied and I nodded. "Nobara you're gonna sleep with y/n... I'm gonna talk with the principal tomorrow and make you two roommates... and y/n, don't worry I won't let him touch you ever again... just sleep okey and call me if you need me " I said and we all left the room.

Sukuna's POV

"this brat!!! He has to eat the finger again?! .... Doesn't matter... she's mine... I'm gonna have her again and nobody's gonna stop me" I said with a smirk.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

Tagging: @nanamiiiiiiiswife

[fitzells]

request for conrad bringing his girlfriend to the boardwalk in e4 with the group??? maybe a distraction kiss during the laser tag game so bellys team wins instead

i’m like a conrad fisher blurb machine. seriously. requests still open for all characters. hope i did this justice!!!! belly conklin i love u and ur need to win everything u are the love of my life. this NOT PROOFREAD! and not written very well i can do better trust. ok bye.

You like seeing him happy. It suits him. His entire face just lights up the minute his lips contorts into a grin, it’s contagious. He needed this day, with his friends. With Jeremiah. With you. He really needed you here in Cousins; but Conrad Fisher is not known for being vulnerable, he’s not even remotely close to an open book. So, a couple of days ago, when he opened the front door to be greeted with you, Jeremiah and Belly; it took all of his strength to stop himself from breaking down on the spot.

He hadn’t seen you in a while, and you both blame it on the distance; really, you do. That’s why you love summer so much. Cousins. The beach-house. It’s just for you and Conrad; for a little while, it’s just magical. He knows he could be putting more of an effort in, but he really doesn’t want you to see how low he gets. You’re his sunshine; and he really doesn’t want to dampen that.

You were tucked into his chest now, peering up at him and feeling the pure serenity rushing through your veins at the sight of him smiling. You love him so much it hurts.

“Laser tag!” Belly snaps you out of your daze, her fiery competitiveness making you jolt a little. “Hey, Conrad; hands off my girl. No mind games, I’ve got my eye on you.”

She gestures for you to stand over with her, Taylor and Skye. Taylor narrows her eyes at Conrad, and sends you a happy little grin as she reaches her hand out for you to grab at. You shrug your shoulders, swivelling your head away from your boyfriends attempt to kiss you a quick goodbye; and all of your friends laugh loudly at the rejection.

“Yeah, Conrad.” You snide. “No mind games.”

He flips you off.

“We actually don’t need mind games. We’re simply the better team.” Steven declares. Conrad and Jeremiah yell out agreements as the three of them wrap their arms around each other.

You spin on your heel and face your three teammates. “Four against three. We have an advantage he—“

Conrad boos loudly. “You have no advantage.”

“Ignore him.” Belly chimes in, the two of you standing before Taylor and Skye. You nod. “We have to beat them. Game face on; in it to win it. Team Belly for life.”

“Oh please, that’s the worst pep talk I’ve ever heard!” Your boyfriend laughs. Steven and Jeremiah spew out words of agreement.

You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, Fisher. You wanna trash talk? Because remember that night I went to visit you and your dorm hall was empty and you wanted to—“

His face falls, and turns bright red. “Alright! Let’s play.”

Belly pulls you in for a hug. “Hit him where it hurts, I like it. Also.. I’m gonna need to hear that story later.”

You grin.

The game is actually not as lighthearted as one would think. So, maybe you’re all in your late teens; and maybe it’s a game aimed for six year olds’ birthday parties, regardless; you have a competitive streak that could possibly be labelled a little toxic. You need to win, badly. You’ve hit Steven and Jeremiah, easily. Your main target is Conrad; and you can’t seem to find him anywhere. Until you do, and you smile sweetly.

“Hi.” You whisper. He smiles and greets you back.

You hold your hands up in surrender. “I come in peace.”

You get a little laugh from him; and he shakes his head. You melt a little. “You know, you’re cute when you’re all competitive. Maybe slightly hot, too.”

You gasp. “Only slightly?”

“Super.”

“If I promise not to shoot, will you kiss me? Please.” You hit him with the puppy dog eyes and suddenly he finds himself not even caring about this game anymore. He loves you so much it makes him feel ill.

“Promise you won’t shoot?”

“Promise I won’t shoot.”

He pulls you in by your waist and kisses you softly, then a little harder. Your hands find his hair and you stand up on your tiptoes to deepen it. This is way too lovey dovey for an arcade. You fear not even Cam Cameron could prevent you guys from getting kicked out if some overprotective mother stumbles upon you.

He’s zapped in the back, and he freezes. Grimacing in aggravation when he hears Belly’s evil cackle from a few feet behind him. She doesn’t stop zapping, maybe enjoying it a little too much. You bite down on your bottom lip to trap your laughter.

“You promised.” He whines.

“Promised that I wouldn’t shoot. Unfortunately, Belly is a force to be reckoned with. The woman cannot be contained.” You shrug, and Belly hits him with a yeah, suck it Conrad.

He sighs. “So that was planned, then.”

“Yes and no.”

He falls in to step with you as Belly races forward to claim your spot as the winning team. “And no?”

“I was told to kiss you. Just not like that. That was..” Your voice trails off. “Wow. That was just wow.”

He laughs, and you laugh with him. “I love you, you know that? Like a lot.”

“Good. You should love me.” You exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m the world's best girlfriend.”

He nods, pushing the stray hairs on your face behind your ears. “You are. Seriously.”

You kiss him again, this time there’s no ulterior motive. You’re just sickeningly in love.

[sissybabycucksophia]

The Adult Baby Adoption Part 4

(This story is complete fiction and although i may desperately wish it isn’t, there is no fact or real world experience behind this story, and themes reflected in the story may be triggering, these themes are not my actual beliefs and are only part of a fantasy kink scenario. Also non of the images belong to me)

As the event ended and Daddy forced me out the church doors towards the car I watched as other ABDL’s were lead to their vehicles, though I looked around desperately looking to catch a glimpse of the poor girl in the same position as me. However to no avail, reaching the car door daddy removed my restraints only for me to then be hoisted up into the car and tightly secured in the seat restraints. “Please daddy is this really necessary….” I whimpered as he slammed the door shut.

“Of course they’re necessary! They’re there for your protection, a feeble little fragile girl like you~ now i understand that today has been exciting and overwhelming for you Jade! So I think you should have a nap on the drive home!” Daddy said to me much to my disgust and humiliation, before i could retort he had covered by eyes with a girly pink satin sleep mask and stuffed a large pacifier in my mouth. Sitting totally unable to make, in a beyond pathetic dress I could feel the ruffles up and down the front of the bodess sway with each turn and corner the car took. To afraid to spit out the paci I sat in silent contemplation of what had just happened to me. My chances of escaping to normality were disappearing faster than my diaper was filling with nervous peepees, but even knowing that I had now watched as my name was Legally changed and as I was condemned to a life of girly dress… to my self disgusted, my small penis was fighting against the even smaller chastity cage to get hard! Did I actually want this deep down? Was I gay? Or Trans? Or just a depraved freak turned on by humiliation and utter absolute domination?.

Eventually Daddy pulled up outside the huge building he… now we… lived in. Stopping the engine he climbed out and walked round, opening my door he begun to free me from the car restraints. Helping me out of the car he fixed the skirt of my dress while strangers walked by looking at the grown adult dressed in a child inspired communion dress. Glowing red with embarrassment daddy stood up handing the keys too the vallet and took my hand walking me inside. Despite my prayers to this god i didn’t believe in we were stopped by several of the staff to which daddy further humiliated and embarrassed me as he told them with pride how I was officially now Jade Ulysses Carmichael his daughter. Mortified and ashamed at how aroused it all made me i remained silent until we reached the elevator. Once in the elevator and moving I felt so tired I couldn’t stop myself from leaning by head against Daddy to which he said, “its ok Jade, dinner time then beddie byes for you little girl~” Daddy said gently stroking my wig. Shame washed over me knowing it couldn’t be much later than 5pm, I dreaded to think or even ask how early bedtime was going to be.

Reaching the penthouse Daddy unlocked the door and in we went. However instead of going straight to my pathetic pink bedroom he would reach into his satchel and pull out a certificate, telling me to hold it he insisted I smile for a picture, “there we go, day one in your scrap book!” Daddy said before then leading me to my bedroom and beginning to completely undress me. Once stood totally naked all except for my chastity cage, diapers and necklace, daddy would go to the drawers of my cabinet and pull out possibly the most pathetically juvenile looking night dress. Having seen this exact item on shelfs for actual children I looked on in horror as instead this looked to have been custom made to fit an adult, before I could think to protest Daddy had it over my head and begun guiding my arms into the sleeves of the thick fleecy nightdress. The gown had been altered to my exact high and was so long it skimped the floor at the bottom, around my wrists the elastic cinched tight and all down the front of my pathetically covered form were the images of disney princesses. Then taking me by the hand Daddy sat me at the makeup table where he proceeded to use two big pink scrunchies too split the wig on my head into 2 low pigtails on either side of my head. “Now Jade, give me your hands baby~” daddy said as from the drawers next to the makeup table he would produce a pink pair of satin mittens.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much Daddy!??” I whimpered simply to be met by daddy grabbing one wrist at a time and sliding my hands into the mittens each of which was then tied tightly in place by pink ribbon. Inside each mitten was a wealth of thick fleecy material making it almost impossible to grab anything with the mittens on, “Nonsense little girl! I don’t believe what that politician Nick said about all women is right…. But it weirdly applies well to you and me’s dynamic as Father too Rebellious Sissy Daughter. Remember Jade…. Your Body… MY Choice” Daddy said with an evil and manipulative grin as he then turned to the base of the bed picking up girly pink fluffy slipper boots which he crouched down, raising my nightdress and pushed onto my feet. “But daddy this nighty is humiliating and so are the mittens. Can I please just be a tomboy girl? I don’t wa…..” I was then rudely interrupted in my moans by a very large pacy being shoved in my mouth. “Baby girl~ you are most definitely not old enough or mature enough to know what you want~” Daddy replied leading me into the open plan living room dining area.

There sat the end of the table was a bright pink adult sized high chair, however on the arms of the chair appeared to be restraints. Despite my resistance I was hoisted up into the chair, a strap fastened around my waist to the back of the chair and pinned my wrists down too the arms. “Now you sit here little girl~ I’m going to grab your din dins” Daddy said pinching my cheek. Then leaving me helplessly sat there in my pathetically juvenile clothing and bound to the high chair, Daddy disappeared to the kitchen.

Returning 10 minutes later he would set down in front of me on the table of the highchair a plate of fish chips and mushy pees… 3 things i simply despised especially all at once. Removing the paci from my mouth I begun to protest, “stop this madness! You’ve read my file you know I hate these foods! Stop this insanity its not funny! This is hostage taking and torture you horrible man!!” I growled, ignoring me Daddy would place a princess covered bib around my neck. Then picking up a pink plastic princess adorned spoon he began to try to shovel it into my mouth. Keeping my lips tight shut I was disgusted as he then simply smooshed the contents of the spoon all over the lower half of my face!. The more I resisted the more he made me look like a messy child who kept missing their mouth. However as i finally decided to allow a spoonful of the disgusting mushy pees to violate my mouth, my heart would feel like it stopped as suddenly there was a loud knock at the front door. Nervously swallowing the disgusting mouthful I looked round at the front door from my highchair as Daddy got up and walked towards it. Who was it? It couldn’t possibly be that girl from the church that I’d told to ask for a playdate? Who was it.

“Ah Cynthia my sweet! Come in, I’m just finishing feeding time for little Jade then I’ll be good to commence with our usual affairs~” daddy said as he invited a beautiful 6ft french woman with long perfectly straight shiny black hair and thin rimmed big round black spectacles on into the house. She was stunning, plump perfectly shaped lips covered by matte blood red lipstick which matched her formfitting ankle length blood red rouched figure hugging dress, over that she wore a shiny black crop puffer jacket and wore black doc martin boots. Each finger nail tipped with long pointed blood red fake nails, the woman grabbed daddy’s face gently and planted a kiss on his lips before walking into the room and seductively walking toward my chair. Beneath my diapers i could feel my cage get tight as the sight of such a beautiful woman began to make me horny, well that and the embarrassment of being seen in my current state by such a beautiful woman. “Little Jade? Wait is that him? The one you told me about? I mean I knew you said he was slender and petite enough to be made into a girl but I was skeptical~” the woman said with a mix of seduction and shock as she pointed at me. Mortified I remained quiet as daddy walked over replying “She! She is just adorable no? I told you she has beautiful blue eyes did i not?” Daddy said as he used the bib to wipe away the food around my mouth.

Looking directly at me the woman spoke to me, “hello little Jade~ Im Cynthia Serdano, I’m your daddy’s frequent fuck buddy… then again judging by the look of you princess, you’ve never had one of those hmm? Consider me your Mommy then~” the woman teased as she pinched my cheek. The sheer degradation and humiliation made the tightness in my cage almost unbearable. “Thats enough now C, Jade is very close to her bedtime and its been a long busy day for her~” daddy replied as he loosened the wrist restraints and removed the table. Looking at her phone which she pulled from her jacket pocket the womans face appeared aroused, “bedtime? Its only 6:50pm? You mean your forcing this grown ass man you’ve caged, diapered and dressed as a girl to go to bed at 7pm? God the control and dominance your exerting over him is getting me…. Excited~” Cynthia cooed as she begun caressing his bicep.

“Then maybe you should come watch me put MY property to bed~” Daddy said as he scooped his arms under mine and lifted me out of the chair. Setting my feet on the floor he then took my hand dragging me to the bedroom. “Daddy please stop this is too embarrassing, please just let me stay up. Im a grown up!” I begged, however as i said that I felt Cynthia grope my thickly diapered ass. “That’s interesting Jade, I don’t know many grownups who need diapers… now be quiet its bed time!” Cynthia teased as daddy dragged me into the pink monstrosity of a bedroom.

Sitting me at the makeup table looking towards the bed, Daddy would remove the fluffy slipper boots and replace them with a pair of strange booties which had a strap along the sole of the foot. When tightening my feet were forced into a curled position pulling my toes towards my heels. “Daddy what are these for? I don’t think I can walk in these!” I pleaded as I watched him walk to the wardrobe full of all my future devices of embarrassment and begin searching for something as he retorted smugly “Thats the point Jade, those are Forced crawl booties. That way I know your not going anywhere fast while my back is turned!”

As I tried not to look at Cynthia who stood looking turned on and as though she could ravage Daddy at any minute, Daddy would pull out a monstrosity that made my heart sink, my penis strain in its cage and even made Cynthia giggle. Walking toward me daddy held on a hanger a Full body enveloping pink fleece sleepsack, closed mittened hands attached to the sleeves, a fleece bag with no opening along the bottom and a high cuff neck line with the zipper running down the front. I began to whimper “Please don’t daddy, please it’s embarrassing in front of Miss Cynthia. Please im not a baby I don’t need this please!!!”. At that daddy unzipped the sleepsack and handed it to Cynthia. “Nonsense Mommy Cynthia will think you look adorable in this” Daddy smiled to me as he then looked to Cynthia, “When I pick up my humiliated little sissy boy, your going to get his legs into the sleep sack and guide his arms into it. Make sure his pathetic little nightie sits right too will C!” Daddy said as he appeared to break character and refer to me as a sissy. Cynthia giggled as she followed his instructions, “as you say… Sir~ god your so hot right now you sissy humiliating, beta male controlling king!” Cynthia cooed as she moved closer.

Stunned I remained silent until hoisted into the air by daddy’s hands under my armpits I tried to wriggle and struggle as the sleepsack was humiliatingly wrapped around my body. As my already mittened hands were forced into mittened sleeves I quickly began to realise my hope of being able to grab the zipper too remove the monstrosity after they left was pretty slim. Once both arms were in the sleepsack I was sat back down on the stool. Crouching down before me Daddy would then grab the zip, dragging it up the sleepsack I could feel the degradation and humiliation climb with every inch the zip climbed until eventually it was fully zipped up. From a drawer beside me Daddy pulled a pink heart shaped timer lock which he slipped through 2 locking rings and the zipper, clicking it in place under my chin I unfortunately couldn’t see the time he put in the lock but given how this bedtime routine had been going I wasn’t expecting it to be quick. As I sat there with my masculinity disappearing quicker than my hopes of freedom I looked down at my now pink fleece sleepsack encased body and fell into an almost trance like state as I contemplated my patheticness. So entranced and overwhelmed as too my predicament I simply didn’t bat and eyelid as over my head was placed a pathetic looking pink bonnet which Cynthia took great pride in securing and giggled as she tied its long white ribbons into a bow under my chin.

However I quickly snapped back to reality as I saw and felt Daddy begin to attach and tightly secure a thick fluffy padded belt around my waist which had 2 smaller cuffs attached by short links at either side of my waist. “Hey! Wait a minute! Whats this for! Haven’t you debased and degraded me enough!??” I growled forgetting that no matter how masculine I might think I am I’m in no position to fight or argue. “C help me out here will you babe! Grab that arm and secure the cuff around this pathetic faggots wrist will you!” Daddy grunted as despite my resistance and lashing out the 2 overpowered me and before i knew it my arms were restrained by my sides unable to move my wrists more than 6 inches from my waist. Growling and shaking in anger while violently trying to get my arms free I roared “get this shit off of my to perverted freak!! Fuck your contract from the agency!! There isn’t a court in the land that would force me to keep enduring this bullshit!!”

At that Ulysses crouched down clamping one hand onto my crotch and grabbing my cheeks squeezing my face together he looked me dead in the eyes with an anger that equalled or even surpassed my own. “Look faggot! Listen to me…. See this caged cock down here under all those layers!? It’s irrelevant! Your never going to be a man again!! Look at you!! You never were!! A real man would be in a position to stand up and punch me out right now for grabbing their groin!! Can you do that JADE!! NO because not only are you not a man but your MY play thing! I paid to get an abdl, Im your legal decision making guardian and if you don’t want me to book the procedure to chop off your caged clitty and sissy stones for tomorrow then you’ll realise I can be a good daddy to you like i have been and not hurting you or I can treat you like a piece of shit!!” Daddy growled as my eyes filled with tears. Hearing him say how a real man would stand up right now and punch him out made me feel weak as despite trying I could barely make a fist under my 2 layers of mittens let alone swing a punch thanks to the restraints. Letting go of my face he stood up and looked down on me, “god your so hot right now Ulysses~” Cynthia cooed as she begun to hang off his arm and stroke his cheek.

“NO please you can’t take them from me please dont do that im sorry ok, just please don’t book that appointment” I howled as tears poured down my cheeks and snot began to run out of my nose. There I was, the perfect vision of a baby girl, crying and struggling under all the layers. All that made worse by Cynthia laughing hysterically at me, the more she laughed the more I whaled like a helpless baby. “C can you go pull back to covers while I get Jade here finished and ready for bed, thanks to her little tantrum shes 10 minutes late too bed!” Daddy said to Cynthia as she appeared to compose her, nod and go to the large 4 posted bed and fold back the frilly pink heavy covers. Approaching me again, Daddy would bend down and kiss my forehead before gently placing a pacifier in my mouth, then strapping if in place with a locked strap. “Ssshhh I know Jade, your outburst was because your tired~ daddy knows, lets get you to go beddy byes~” he said softly as he scooped me up in his arms in a princess carry. Feeling myself carried like a princess and knowing I was powerless too break free or stand up to Ulysses made my caged so tight the pain and desperation to orgasm were nigh unbearable.

Approaching the bed, daddy lay me down in the middle of the double bed which was a mass of pink frilly heavy satin. With an evil grin Cynthia looked me dead in the eyes as she flung the thick and heavy quilt over my already fleece sleepsack encased body, then walk over and pulled it right up to just beneath my chin. Looking at the bedside table Cynthia picked up the baby monitor, which only humiliated me to know that they’d hear my every move, and held it in front of my face. With daddy behind her he couldn’t see what she was doing with the monitor but as she spoke to me she pointed too a switch on the side of the monitor, “here you see princess~ daddy and I will hear every little peep, movement and impassion moan you make~” she teased as she flipped the switch from the position that said “one way coms” too “two way coms” before placing it on the pillow right next to my ear. “Awww isn’t that sweet of Cynthia to reassure you like that Jade.~ are you gonna say night night~” daddy hummed as he begun to walk out of the room.

Reluctantly from behind the paci gag I sniffled “Nin night” as Cynthia laughed and followed daddy out, switching out the lights I realised there were no windows in my room so despite there still being daylight outside at 7:10pm my room was in darkness accept for the plug in baby nightlight by the door, a door which seconds after daddys exit I heard quite clearly being locked. For a moment I simply lay completely still letting the tears dry into my cheeks in a state of shock, no wonder Cynthia found me funny to look at like this… any normal human would. Acutely aware of my almost inescapable predicament I lay there staring at the ceiling which Daddy had gone to the effort of plastering with self affirming diaper girl mantras like “I am Daddy’s girl” and “Daddy knows best” or “I Need Daddy’s Protection”. Reading each one made me sick to my stomach. However it wouldn’t be long before my attention was ripped from the ceiling mantras as loudly and with unbelievable clarity through the baby monitor came the audio from Daddy’s bedroom. Eyes widening in shock I realised Cynthia had more humiliation planned for me… as if that were possible!

For the next, what seemed like 12 hours but was in fact 2 I was forced to lie there and listen as Daddy and Cynthia had very loud, very passionate and very erotic sex. Over the 2 hours I heard cynthia embolden Daddy’s ego with seductively toned comments like “God the kind of man with the dominance and power to control and humiliate a sissy like that gets me so… fired up~” and “oh god yes!! Thats what a real mans cock feels like!!”. Every comment or thing Cynthia said was obviously designed to turn on Daddy and degrade me… and unfortunately she was succeeding. The passionate sex noises were bad enough but with each comment I would be smashed back into my reality of a caged cock leaking precum into my pink diapers while demoralisingly being forced to be abandon any masculinity.

[littlemissmiller]

Bird in a Cage

Part 5: The Deal

Pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: you return to coriolanus’s chambers after a lovely night and he shows you how much he’s addicted to you. later in the week, he makes a deal with you and you decide to take some precautions…

Warning: 21+ (implied drug use), smut, non-con, riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, slight cum play, spanking, use of nicknames (good girl, play thing), mirror sex, doggy, slight degradation, obsession, possessive behavior, toxic themes, stalking, kidnapping.

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: hello hello hello! part 5! so idk why my last fic didn’t do as well, but i still take suggestions so whatever y’all wanna read about let me know because maybe im falling off but damn y’all didn’t want a little coriolanus x you x sejanus :( ok well, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter and stay tuned the last chapter is gonna be different, like a choose your own ending (my ass couldn’t keep a surprise to save my life). oh and i added a chapter because I couldn’t fit everything into part 6. in the meantime the classic Summer High series is still in the works and I think imma actually do a pedro story next! yah! ok that’s all bye ❤︎︎

Series Masterlist

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The guards nod and escort you to Coriolanus’s chambers. As you walk, you feel like you’re floating, coming down from your high and entering a new sensation. Your lust drives every thought in your mind and is bringing your body to heat. Once you arrive at his door, you knock twice and he invites you in.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You let out a drunken giggle and eye him. At this point you’ve completely transformed into feeling nothing but pure desire for him.

“That was a fun experience. The stars…they shimmered so bright. It was beautiful.”

He walks over to you, his overcoat now removed, along with his cufflinks. His shirt is slightly agape, unbuttoned just enough to reveal the top of his pecks. He smiles and walks towards you. You wrap your arms around his neck and he places his hands on your waist.

“Tell me more about the stars.”

“They were like beautiful gems. They flickered and danced so brightly.”

“As beautiful as you, my darling?”

“I-I’m not sure about that…”

“I am. I’m incredibly sure.”

“Well…why don’t you show me?” You ask.

He sighs and immediately captures your lips. He holds your face tightly, moving his hands under your jaw and on your neck. You can barely breathe, but you love feeling devoured. He’s entranced by you, your scent, your taste. Coriolanus wants to explore every part of you. Ravish you, make you shake, and cry his name. He loves how loud you get, how you claw on his back, and ache for more. His passions get the best of him and he swoops you up, cupping your ass and swiftly walking you to his bed. You are laid flat on your back. You gasp as he crawls on top of you. You smirk and he starts to undress you. He pulls down the straps of your dress, kissing your skin as you are revealed to him.

“You feel so soft. So perfect.”

He pulls your dress down your body, until you are in nothing but your panties and bra. This has truly become his favorite sight. You, in a matching pair of lacy underwear, on his bed, ready for him.

He sits up on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt all the way, tossing it to the ground. Your breathing becomes laborious and you focus on his next moves. You can’t help but gawk at him, his body, perfectly toned, yet not too bulky. He crawls back on top of you, this time going straight to your neck. He wants to leave marks, sucking and biting hard. You squeal out and moan, your fingers raking through his hair. You cling to him, reveling in the pleasure he’s giving you, while patiently waiting for his mouth to explore further down your body.

“You taste so sweet. I know you want more…” you nod and he gasps moving his mouth to your collarbone and the valley of your breast. “Can’t get enough of you, my darling. Let me see these beautiful breasts.”

His hands snake under your hips and up to the clasp. You arch your back to allow him access. He expertly unhooks your bra, slipping it down your arms and tossing it to the ground. Immediately, he grabs your chest, kneading and massaging you. You whine and arch your back again. He smiles against your flesh, nipping at you. Your whimpers are truly music to his ears, and he intends to coax more out of you.

“So sensitive. I love how you respond to my touch. Mmm I have an idea…”

He crawls off you and sits back against the headboard.

“Come here” he pats his lap “lay over me you beautiful thing.”

You nod biting your lip, and crawl to him.

“On your stomach, ass up baby. There ya go. Good girl.” He whispers “I want to focus on your pleasure fully tonight.”

He grabs your ass, giving it a few firm pats. He lets out a soft moan as his fingers slowly find your folds. You grab his bicep, arching into his touch. He starts soft, stroking your pussy, then his touch becomes more aggressive. A wave of euphoria fills your body, your core becoming more and more wet. The sounds of it fill the air, and you feel his cock harden on your stomach.

“Mmm you feel that baby, you feel how you turn me on. Your wet cunt, making me so hard.”

“Mhmm…I love how you touch me, sir…”

He finds your clit, rubbing it feverishly. You let out moan after moan, jerking and bucking against his hand. He continues to manipulate your core, his fingers working hard on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp and claw at his body. He loves how your nails dig into his thigh and arms. He loves how you don’t want to hold back. He removes his fingers for a moment, holds them to his mouth and spits on them. He places them back on your cunt, making you squeal again. Coriolanus is satisfied watching you like this, especially when you look so perfect laying ass up on his lap.

He moves his hand, slapping your ass a few times. He moans as his hand meets your cheeks, and you can feel his cock twitch against your stomach and you smile.

“You like that baby, like me treating you like my little play thing”

“Mhmm…oh” you moan as his fingers find your pussy again.

“Turn over.” He instructs “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum.”

You swing your body over, your ass now firmly against his hard on. You want it in you so bad, but also want more of what he’s offering you. He gives you a sinful smile, his icy blue eyes focused on you.

“Spread your legs a bit more.” He pats your thigh. You obey, stretching out your legs, readjusting your body on his lap. He lets out a sinister chuckle, before his hands swiftly move back to your throbbing core. He rubs you gently then applies more pressure. Your hips buck and he delicately slides a finger into you, then another. He curls them up and pumps his hands. The pleasure is overwhelming, you’ve never had a man make you feel this good.

“God, baby girl, you’re so tight and wet. Fuuuuck darling.”

His fingers continue to work you, your wetness gathering heavy on his fingers. He slides them up to your mouth.

“Taste yourself.” He commands

You nod, wrapping your mouth around his fingers. He lets out a guttural moan. He moves you off his lap, crawling around in front of you. Coriolanus pushes your hips down onto the bed, towering over you. His eyes meet your own and he dives in for a kiss. His lips seal on top of your own, moving furiously, desire overcoming his senses. He snakes his hands down to your thighs, spreading your legs so he can comfortably kneel in between them. He guides his cock to your entrance, stroking you for a moment, then slowly pushing in. You gasp at the sensation, tossing your head back, your eyes scrunching up.

“So perfect. I’ll never get tired of taking you.” Coriolanus utters.

His hips pick up speed, and before you know it, he’s pushing into you deeper and harder. He finds a good pace, hips slamming yours. You could stay like this all night, relish in the pleasure he’s giving you, feel him buried deep in your core. And Coriolanus wishes the same. You feel so warm and wet, Coriolanus is sure he’s never felt like this before with another woman. No one hasn’t felt as right for him as you.

You tilt your head to kiss him again, moaning into him as your whole body moves with his. You wrap your hands around his neck, his hand cradling your jaw. Your eyes meet, his now dark with lust. He quickly recaptures your lips, then moves to readjust you. Coriolanus holds you up on his lap, falling to sit, while you ride him. As you work your hips, he trails down, kissing your neck, collarbone, and valley of your breast. You start to change your pace, legs working to bounce on him. He cups your ass, watching you close in breathless anticipation.

“You’re so perfect like this, my darling. Oh you should see for yourself.”

That’s when the idea occurs to him. Coriolanus studies you, a sinister smile creeping up his lips. He glances over to the full length mirror in the corner of his chambers, then turns back to you with a small chuckle. He holds you against him as he moves off the bed, the whole time keeping himself buried inside you. With a gasp and a small yelp, you wrap your legs around him as he stands. He brings you both to the mirror, setting you down and only pulling out to turn you over.

“Stick your ass out, I’ll hold you up.”

You nod, obeying him. He slides back in, his arm holding your torso, his free hand clenching your jaw.

“Look at yourself baby. Fuck look at your beautiful body, your perfect tits, god you’re so sexy.”

You watch yourself as he ruts into you. His hips slapping against your ass. Coriolanus seems to notice how perfect that is too.

“And…” he slaps your cheek. “This ass bouncing against me”

He gives you a few more firm slaps, before ensuring that you’re watching yourself again.

“Look up baby.” He instructs, patting the side of your face tenderly. “Watch me fuck you. I want you to see how perfect you are. I want you to see why I’m becoming so god damn addicted to you.”

You nod, your eyes meeting him in the mirror. You go back and forth between watching him and then yourself. Being able to watch him defile you like this awakes a new feeling in you. Your body feels hotter, the sensation of his cock seeming to hit harder. You enjoy being able to see yourself in this drunken, fucked out state. You cry out in pleasure, your legs becoming shaky and unstable.

“Don’t give out just yet. Do we need to move back to bed?”

“It’s just hard to hold myself up like this.”

He nods, walking you back to the bed. Coriolanus bends you over, still keen on taking you from behind. The soft cushion of the mattress provides relief and you settle yourself to be more comfortable. He pats your ass, knowing that he will probably not last much longer. You feel it too, your own high slowly being teased out of you.

“I want you to finish with me, I want to feel you squeeze around me when I release inside of you. Think you can do that baby?” He whispers.

You nod vigorously, his pace keeping up until you finally clench around him, your body convulsing with euphoria. After a few thrusts, Coriolanus is spent himself, his cock pumping inside you, semen spewing into your core. When he pulls out, is leaking out of you. He coos at you, taking a finger and pushing it into your core.

Coriolanus leans down, his mouth whispering into your ear.

“That…” he starts, catching his breath. “Was so…fucking…perfect…” He kisses your shoulder blade. “Stay right here.”

He pulls away, heading into the bathroom. When he returns, he’s holding a few towels and a silver tray with a glass of water and pill on it.

“Here. Take this.” He sticks the tray out to you. You roll over, taking the pill and swallowing with the water. You turn back on your stomach, allowing yourself to sink into the bed. You feel as Coriolanus cleans you up, making sure his cum doesn’t drip onto the bed. He tosses the towel to the ground and climbs into bed. You crawl under the sheets with him, lying against his chest. He kisses the side of your head, stroking your hair.

“Mmm, how are you so perfect?” He asks

“I’m not trying to be.”

“But you are…so so perfect for me.”

The next day, you wake up feeling light. He keeps you busy once again, the Hunger Games drawing nearer which means he's also busy. You don’t see him again until dinner and the rest of the week has you like ships passing in the night. By the end of the week, you’ve probably modeled every dress and outfit that represents the districts and are worn out. Around midday, you received a message from him.

My darling, come meet me in my study before lunch.

-C.S.

You examine the note, studying a few times before handing it back to the maid with a smile of acknowledgement. You leave the shoot and head to his study, an entourage of guards waiting outside to escort you. Once you arrive, you’re in the room alone. Curious, you look around, peering out the window onto the garden. As you do, something catches your eye. Large pieces of paper sit on his desk, taking up a majority of the surface area. You look closer and realize they are blueprints. You at first suspect they are for the games, but upon further examination it’s the layout of his palace. You do a double take, studying it carefully. The first layout is directly outside in the gardens. There seems to be plans for an event, maybe a party to celebrate the start of the games. You can clearly see his ideas for a grand pavilion closest to the palace and instructions for seating arrangements. You’re not sure what to make of it, turning the page to reveal another set of blueprints. This one seems to be a layout of the ground floor. Two of the rooms have notes scribbled onto them saying: to be remodeled.

You’re puzzled by it all, curious as to why he’s making changes to the palace and arrangements for a party. Maybe that’s why he brought you here. To tell you what’s going on. Then you notice something peculiar. All the rooms are labeled, even the hallways and staircases, except one small rectangle. It sits at the end of a hall, almost hidden away, almost as if it was drawn by accident. But you know it’s not. You think for a moment, then realize what it must be.

His laboratory. The crypt-like room that he had shown you earlier that week. It was right there, just next to the kitchen. Your eyes widen, committing the map to memory as the sound of freedom calls to you once again. When you’re not around him and your mind is more clear, you find yourself at war with your emotions, and ultimately want to go back to your normal life. Settling in here, becoming comfortable and adjusted at the palace are all ways of coping, hoping he would uphold his promise to let you see your family again. Yet, those dreams seem to be fading away each day, your spell broken only when you have a true moment alone to yourself, which is rare since your time being here.

Then the door knob turns and you scurry back to the window. You turn your back, and just as you settle yourself, the door opens.

“Oh you made it here before me. What a wonderful surprise.” He beams as you turn around. As he approaches you, he smiles, taking his hand out for you to hold. You take it and he kisses your knuckles softly. You decide not to mention what you just saw, waiting for him to bring it up instead.

“How’s your day been, beautiful?”

“Fine, it’s been a busy week, I’m ready for a break if I’m honest.”

“Soon enough. Once the games are over things will be…” he starts, taking a step to you “different.”

You nod and he cups your face, placing a delicate kiss to your cheek.

“And you’ll get some time off, we both will”

You nod again, this time he kisses you full on the mouth.

“But I brought you here for a reason. Something we need to discuss.”

“What is it?” you inquire.

“Well, with the games coming up, a lot of people are wishing to meet with me, talk about the arena, talk about last minute additions to the spectacle of it all, and I find it easier to simply have a dinner party to meet with people. Which will be tomorrow night. I have a few dresses picked out for you to try on, but I need help with something and it comes with a reward if you can promise to behave.”

“A reward?” You repeat

He nods his head, hands falling to your shoulders.

“I’ve invited your family to come. I’ll be with you, but they will be here to see you.”

Your eyes widen, swelling with tears. You gasp at his words, hardly believing it.

“What-what am I to do to be able to see them?”

“Well for one you need to act right. Not letting that mouth runoff to tell everybody why your absence has been so prolonged. And secondly…” he starts, his eyes scanning your body. “I need you to act as a dutiful partner.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Since most of the elites of Panem are aware that I’ve taken a fondness to you, they’ll be watching you, more specifically watching me, and I want to make a good impression.”

You stare at him, still confused, waiting for him to explain more.

“I need you to help with some of the planning, they’ll want to see you’re involved with life here at the palace, so for the rest of the day and tomorrow you’ll be with kitchen staff and gardening staff, approving or denying any decisions made. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.” You finally utter.

“Good girl.” He kisses your forehead. “I’m excited to see what you arrange for tomorrow night. In the meantime, I have lunch ready for you. I can't join the game-makers need me, but I’ll see you at dinner?” He nods and you nod back. “Perfect!” He kisses your forehead again. He escorts you out of the room and the guards escort you to the dining room for lunch.

You can barely eat, the thought of his requests bouncing around in your mind. And he’s letting you see your family. It feels all too good to be true. You stare down at your meal, bread, some various cheeses, and an arugula salad with steak cut up on top. You take a few nibbles of bread, some cheese and take a few bites of the salad before your stomach closes up at the thought of seeing your mother and father again. Your brother, your sister, your grandmother, and grandfather.

You leave the table, letting the guards escort you to wherever Coriolanus wants you next. The rest of the day, he has you tasting various desserts and wines for tomorrow evening, as well as picking out what color flowers should be at the guest tables. It all seems mundane, but you figure this is what his actual partner would be doing. It felt strange to be in this limbo between a real girlfriend and someone who has been forced into that role. He has a way of towing that line, reminding you of your place in this arrangement. Finally after making a decision on the lemon bars and lilacs, you’re taken back to your chambers. When you walk in, several dresses hang on a rack, ready to be tried on. One is a baby blue, with a sweetheart neckline and ruffles. It’s beautiful, but when you try it on, it makes you feel like you're taking up too much space. The next dress is a pale yellow, with puffed out sleeves and Queen Anne neckline. It’s simple, but it washes you out. Then, it is the one that really catches your eye. A vintage mauve, with a beaded, motif corset. It was strapless, made of silk and had a slit that was more than halfway up the thigh. You try it on. It fits you perfectly, hugging your body in all the right places. You twirl in the mirror, and smile to yourself. After a few moments, you are summoned to dinner. You don’t talk much, but allow him to praise you on your taste in wine for tomorrow.

“Perfect choice for a summer evening. And the lilacs will look beautiful as a centerpiece for the tables. Did you pick out a dress?”

“I did.” You smile softly

“Good. I can’t wait to see it, I’m sure you look lovely in it.”

“Do you care to know which one I picked?”

“I’ll wait to be surprised.” He remarks, returning back to his praises of you.

After dinner, you and him ravish each other on his bed, this time he’s more sweet and gentle, yet still giving you an equal amount of pleasure as always. He falls asleep holding you, but you stay awake, your mind fixated upon the possibility of seeing your family tomorrow. Then you remember something else. The location of his laboratory. The map burns in your mind, begs for you to follow it and find the room. At this point, Coriolanus is fast asleep, and you scoot slowly from his arms. He doesn’t stir and your mind is set on finding the key to the door. You remember it well, shiny silver, as if it was brand new.

You sneak over to his dresser, searching for it, the top drawer has nothing but some handkerchiefs and essential oils. You look in the second drawer, a moleskin, quill and ink bottle, sit neatly next to each other. You grimace and shut it. You open the bottom drawer, and it’s filled with a hair comb and mirror.

You creep into his closet, looking through the drawers quietly, but quick and frantic at the same time. It’s nowhere to be found, and you can’t fathom where else it could be. You walk back into the bedroom, then look at the small desk in the corner. You stride over to it and wiggle the drawer trying to open it, but it’s locked. Your heart surges, something telling you, you found it. But now you need a key just to get to it. Or something like a key. You head back into the bathroom, looking for something to pick the lock. You spot a small metal nail file, swipe it and tip toe back to the desk. You rattle the lock with it for a bit and then, it clicks open.

Eager you pull the drawer out and there it is. The silver key. You snatch it quickly, and scurry to the bedroom door. You crack it open, and a guard is standing at attention. You think for a moment, contemplating what to do. Then you have a plan.

“Excuse me?” You whisper.

The guard turns to look at you. He’s surprised at first, then his face softens.

“I can’t sleep, I’m feeling a bit peckish. Could you escort me to the kitchen for a snack please?”

The guard nods his head, walking you to the kitchen. Once you arrive at the kitchen door he turns to open it but you stop him.

“I’m sorry to do this, but I’m desperately cold. Could you fetch me a blanket?”

“I can’t leave you alone.” He states plainly

“I promise I won’t go anywhere. I just don’t want to go into the fridge without something to cover up.”

He sighs and turns around to retrieve a blanket. That’s when you make your move. With the map in mind, you sneak around the corner and discover the iron clad door of Coriolanus’s laboratory. You take the key, place it in the lock and turn. It opens, and you do your best to sneak in without a sound. You know exactly what you’re looking for and head to the cabinet of vials. The deep red one sticks out like a sore thumb and you open the cabinet to take it. You slip in past your shirt, securing it in your bra. You close the cabinet, and hurry out of the laboratory, locking it behind you. You tiptoe back into place, and the guard returns only moments after you have reinstated your place. You try not to seem so out of breath, looking as innocent as possible. The guard opens the door to the kitchen, handing you a blanket and you slip in. You drape the blanket over your shoulders and scoot to the industrial fridge. You open it, the guard holding it for you and you grab a bite of cheese, some bread, and an apple.

You walk out, find a tray and plate and carry your snack back to Coriolanus’s chambers. Once back inside, set the tray on the floor, sneak over to the desk, putting the key back precisely as you found it. You take the nail file and try to close the lock back up, pulling on it to make sure it’s locked. A heavy sigh of relief washes over you, and you float back to the bed. Finally you feel well enough to eat, clutching your chest to feel for the vial. It’s still there and you need a place to hide it. You sit on the floor, snacking on your bread while you think. Coriolanus stirs in his sleep, readjusting his body. You look around the room and spot your day dress from today on the floor. You crawl over to it, searching for a place to hide the vial. You can’t find one when an idea strikes you. You look back at his desk, the nail file still perched on the tabletop. You grab it, and make a small hole on the inside of the breast. It acts as a makeshift pocket and you slide it in. You return the file back to his bathroom, then finish eating.

Once back in bed with Coriolanus, you take a long, deep breath. You look over at him, his back rising and falling slowly. Everything hits you at once and you feel shaky again. He could easily find out you stole from him, snuck around, and took his vial. He could keep you from your family forever, blackmail you, torture you, turn you into an avox. You think about them, wondering if any of the ones he has at the palace was a girl in your place, a potential partner who tried to defy him or run away. You swallow hard, the thought of it making you feel ill. Then, he scoots closer to you, humming as he feels the warmth of your skin. He stirs.

“Where did you go?” He asks quietly

Shit. Was he awake? Did he wake up? Did he know?

“Couldn’t sleep. Got a snack from the kitchen.”

He smirks, his smile lazy, dreamlike.

“I had a feeling. You didn’t eat much for dinner or lunch.”

“How do you know about lunch?”

“The maid told me.” he sighs. “I’m glad you helped yourself to some food. I like how you're becoming accustomed to the palace.” He murmurs. You fake a smile, and scoot towards him. In an instant you feel your worries melt, his hand touching your bicep so gently. You lean into him, and nod, feeling almost euphoric as you drift to sleep.

꧁🝮꧂

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[whowantslovergirl]

An: obviously based on this song 😍 this is going to be a long one 💋 but i worked really hard in this one because i am chandler and chandler is me i tried to write their dynamic as best as i can

Hey Lover!

Chandler Bing x hyper fem! reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: fluff and cursing, friends are a little rude in this, kinda suggestive talk, angst if you squint, later seasons like 5 under and that’s it hope you enjoy my lovers 🤍

friends masterlist

Summary: The one where Chandler found the love of his life

posted: April 9,2023

The one where they met:

You were walking into Central Perk or as you would call it. ‘The best coffee shop in all of New York.’ You put your coat on the rack and as you were walking you bump into a fairly tall man.

“Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t look-ah.” He stopped when he saw you. “Oh no I’m sorry it wasn’t your fault.” He just stared and stared and stared.

“Um Can I just?” You pointed to the counter. “Oh yeah I’m sorry.” You just nodded and walked to the counter. “Chandler” You turn around. “What?” “My name. My name is Chandler I think.” You let out a short laugh. “You’re funny Chandler. I’m Y/N.”

“Do you wanna go out sometime Y/N?” You nodded and gave him your number and he reciprocated.

Little did you know that was the name of your future husband.

The one when it’s the first date:

You wore a mini dress with white heels and sliver jewelry. While admiring yourself in the mirror, you heard a knock at your door and got excited.

You and Chandler talked for a few weeks before actually going on a date. You talked for hours and hours. He’s exactly your type. Funny, tall, handsome and a good job. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him.

You opened the door. “Hey.” He just stared. “Sorry I was thinking about how I’m going to kill you after this.” You laughed and he smiled. No one laughed at his dark humor. “Well at least I look good for my final moments.” You said while posing dramatically. He laughed “Let’s go it’s a long drive.” You nodded and intertwined your hands.

He giggled.

You gasped. “Did you just giggle?!” He just made excuses and kept walking.

_____

“She left you with her underwear on!” You say laughing hysterically. “Ok ok it’s not that funny.”

“I’m sorry I’m sorry and this is all because what you did in fourth grade.” He nodded and said something even more funny.

“Then I walked out with the bathroom door.”

You laughed even harder and people were looking at you. He was trying to calm you down. “Just a really funny story folks nothing to laugh at here.”

After laughing until you almost peed, you finally calm down. “Enough about me tell me about you Y/N.” “Well what do you want to know?” He just shrugged. “I don’t know tell me everything.” You nodded. “Well I work as a manger of design at this place.” “What place?” “Oh you probably never heard of it.” You said while looking down. “Then tell me.” You pretend to cough. “Chanel” His eyes go wide. “You work at Chanel.” You nodded.

“I’ve always liked fashion as a kid and at 16 I saw a Chanel show and realized that I want to be responsible for those designs.” “Wow so what do you do as the manager?” “Well I design and approve designs.”

He nodded. “Well what else?”

You tell him everything and talked til the restaurant closed.

_____

“Well this is me.” You guys stop at your apartment. “Well I hope that we can do this again sometime lover.” You just realized what you said. You put your hand on your mouth. “I’m sorry we just met and I called you lover wow.” He interrupted you. “It’s okay. I like it.” You just smiled. “Well bye Y/N.” “Bye Chandler.” You get lost in his eyes and he gets lost in yours. He stepped closer. “You have really pretty eyes.” “Thank you, you too.”

You connected your lips. And it felt so right. You wrapped your arms around his neck and put his hands around your waist. You pull away. “Do you you want to maybe go inside? Stay over maybe?” He nodded enthusiastically. You laughed and pulled him inside.

You had a lot of fun that night.

The one when you became Chandler’s girlfriend:

After a few dates and a lot of sleepovers. You guys were at his apartment watching movies. His roommate wasn’t home and he really wanted you over for once. “Do you ever think of this going anywhere?” You look over at him. “What?” “I mean do you think that we can be more than friends who go out with each other and you know?” He gestured with his hands. “Have sex?” “Yea that’s the word!” You laugh and nod. “But I think we can be more if you ask.”

“Oh well. It’s just that… I mean you can… I have..” You just kept nodding. “Are you going to ask?” He nodded. “Yea will you.. Can you… Will you allow me…. Can I be your boyfriend?” You smiled and squealed. “Yes lover I will let you be my boyfriend.” He leaned in and kissed you and you kissed him back. He laid down and you were on top of him. “Happy relationship sex?” You asked with a smile. “Of course!”

Again you had a lot of fun that night.

The one where you meet his friends:

“She’s going to be here any minute. Don’t be so intense. She cares about how you feel about her cause she knows you guys are like my family ok? Don’t be you.” They all nodded.

There was a buzz. “Everyone stop talking! She’s here! Shut up!” “Um Chandler no one was talking.” Monica said. “Shhhh!” He pressed the button. “Y/N?” “Hey lover.” He giggled and took his finger off the button. “She’s call me lover.”

“We hear everything you hear Chandler.” Rachel said. “Shh!”

“Um Chandler are you going to let me up?” “Oh yeah! Come on up!” You walk upstairs and knock on the door. “Shh! Shhh! She’s here.” You hear from behind the door. The door whipped open and you saw your boyfriends smiling face. “Hey lover.” You went to hug him and gave him a peck. “Heyy you! These are my friends.” They all waved “Hi!” “Hey guys! Are you going to introduce them?” “Yeah!”

“This is Joey, my roommate. Monica and Rachel, Ross and Phoebe.” They all waved again.

____

“You work at Chanel!” Rachel yelled. You nodded and smiled. “Yea if you want I can design you some custom pieces.” She screamed and everyone covered their ears. “You can design!” “Yeah I’m manager of design.” She screamed again. “Now my ears are dead.” Chandler said. “What!” Joey yelled. “I can make anything for you guys. I make some of my clothes actually.”

They all got really excited and started asking for different pieces. Joey went to Chandler. “Good job man!” He said hugging him.

The one when you say ‘I love you’:

You were just about to leave for work. “Ok I’m going now bye I love you.” What did you just say? “Did you just-?” “Oh my I have to go! Bye Chandler. I have work oh my god!” You gave him a kiss. And you left.

He was speechless and went over to Monica’s place.

“She said I love you!” They all turned around. “What?” Ross said. “She said I love you! And I didn’t say anything!”

“Do you love her back?” Phoebe asked while walking up to him. “Yes of course I do. You know what I’m going to say it back. I gotta go!”

_____

He ran over to your job and saw the secretary. “Hi I’m looking for Y/N L/N.” “Do you have an appointment?”

“I need a appointment?!” She nodded. “I just really need to talk to her please?” “I will call her and she can come down here.” “No”

“No?” “I’m sorry.” He ran into the elevator and saw her dialing for security.

_____

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You look up from your desk. “Chandler?”

“I love you too!” “What?”

“I love you too! I love you! I love you! I love y-.”

“Shut up.” You smash his lips onto his. Everyone from their sewing tables stared cheering. Security walked in and pulled Chandler away. “Bye lover! I love you!”

“I love you!”

God you really do love him.

The one where you find out:

All of Chandler’s friends and you were hanging out in Central Perk. You and Chandler were giggling to each other. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered against your neck. You were giggling. “Shut up.”

“You guys are so cute.” Monica said smiling. You both thanked her. “Yeah I’m surprised that y’all lasted so long.” Joey said while eating his muffin. You looked at him confused. “Why wouldn’t we have lasted?” “Oh no reason just the whole thing with Janice I thought he was never going to get over her.” Everyone looked at him with ‘stop now!’ looks.

“Janice is an ex or something? You never told me about a Janice.” You say looking at Chandler. He was looking at the ground. “Oh look a penny!” He said jumping under the table. “Hey! Chandler get up!” He just stayed under the table. You looked at Joey. “Why is Janice being brought up?” He just stuffed his face.

“Why is no one talking?!”

“Ok! Ok! I’m sorry Chandler but she deserves to know.” Phoebe said and turned over to you. “Chandler got broken up with by someone who he thought he was going to marry. And he was heartbroken and needed a confidence booster. And-.”

“I was a rebound?” He got up and tried to hold your hand but you snatch it away. “You only wanted sex basically? You know I never have sex on the first date and I thought you really liked me Chandler.”

“I do! It started off like that but I started to fall in love with you.”

“So were you going to tell me?” He didn’t say anything. “Yeah okay.” You got up and got your coat.

It really hurt to find out that you was wanted for sex but nothing new.

_____

“Y/N! Please open the door. Baby please! I am so sorry!” He said knocking on the door. You just turned up the volume on the TV. “No no no no no! Please don’t do this. Just let me explain!” You pause the TV and went to the door. “How can you explain this Chandler?”

“Y/N I can’t even put together words on how sorry I am. We’ve been dating for a whole year baby. Why would I do that? I don’t ever wanna want to lose you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to marry you and I want to have kids with you. I want you. I need you. Janice is nothing compared to you. You make me so happy. This was the best year of my life! Come in please open the door. I’m your lover. And I love you Y/N please.”

You opened the door. “Did you mean that?” He nodded and took your hands. “Yes I love you and I am sorry.” You teared up and smashed your lips onto his.

He was never going to let you go after this.

The one where Chandler proposed:

“Oh my god look at that thing!” Rachel yelled when she saw the ring. “Yeah if she won’t marry you I will.” Phoebe said and stared making sex eyes to Chandler. “Only the best for her.”

“My best buddy is getting married!” Joey said smiling and hugging Chandler.

“Hey lover! What’s all the cheering about?” Phoebe put the ring in her mouth. “Nothing.” She muffled. “Why do you sound like that?” You say walking over to them and giving Chandler a kiss. She just shook her hands. “I’m going to wash my hands.” Chandler smiled. “Ok.” You walked to bathroom. “Get that out your mouth!” She spit it out and gave it to him.

“So what are we going to do today?” He put the ring in his mouth. Everyone shook their heads. “Nothing!” You thought the behavior was weird but you known each other for almost two years so nothing new. “Oh! I have to go to work! Sorry guys. Bye lover I love you.” You gave him a kiss and you felt a solid. “What do you have in your mouth?” He shook his head again. You just nodded skeptically.

_____

You guys are at your apartment getting ready for your date tonight. “Two years! Two whole years! I can’t believe we been together for two years Chan.” You walked out in your sage green satin dress with your chunky heels and sliver jewelry. He stared at you. “What? Is there something on my dress!” “No! No it’s just you look stunning.” You got flushed and look at the floor smiling.

“Well let’s go.”

“No I have to go to Monica’s real quick.” “Ok no biggie it’s down the street Chan.” He ran out the door. “Wait here! I’ll be right back!”

Weird.

_____

“Monica hurry! I need you guys to set everything up in her apartment!” All his friends started running to her apartment. “No after we leave!” “Ohhhh good luck!”

“She’s going to say yes!”

“Worst thing is she doesn’t!”

“Shut up Ross!”

_____

You had a marvelous night. You went on a boat and had dinner. It was so much fun.

“I had a great time Chan.” You say with a dreamy look on your face. “Me too. Let’s go in your apartment and celebrate our two years if you know what I mean!” You giggled and bit your lip. “Ok!”

When you walked in, you immediately stared tearing up.

“Oh my god!” There was candles everywhere. The room only lit with candles and a trail of roses leading to the middle of the room. “Oh my god! This is beautiful!”

He walked over to the middle and got on one knee. You gasped and put your hands over mouth. “Y/N I might have saw you and thought ‘she will be a good rebound’ but you are so much more than that. I realized that you don’t have to be a queen. You don’t have to have a thing. For I’ll be satisfied as long as you are my bride. I love you Y/N. And I really want you to become Mrs. Chandler Bing. Can I be your husband ?” You didn’t say anything.

Silence.

“Now this is the part you say some-.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! You can be my husband!” You jump into his arms and he falls on the floor. You kiss him and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer. “Engagement sex?”

“Uh let me see yes please!”

You can not believe you have a fiancé.

The one when the wedding became more:

“Oh my god! My weeding is in five hours and we have no bridesmaids dresses!”

“Y/N it’s okay the dresses are on the way.” You just nodded and started sweating. Rachel got a napkin and patted it across your face. “This is my first time getting married and nothing is right!” You stared tearing up. “No! Don’t cry. You’re getting married! I bet Chandler is just so ecstatic right now!”

_____

“What if I’m not good enough and I screw this whole thing up!” Joey slapped him. “Ow!”

“I don’t ever want to hear that talk! You guys are perfect for each other!”

He’s right. You guys are perfect for each other.

_____

Twenty minutes until the wedding and the dresses are here.

In the wrong color.

“I wanted sage green! Not vomit green! I need to make more!” They all looked at you with disbelief. “Y/n you can’t make six dress in twenty minutes!” Monica said but your other friend Evelyn tapped her. “One time she made a dress with a tear away in five minutes so this is nothing.”

Some information she did not know.

There was curtains that were the perfect fabric. You tear the curtains off the wall and got to work.

_____

You finished in fifteen.

And it was time to walk the altar.

All the bridesmaids went in their handmade sage green dresses.

And you walked in a beautiful custom Chanel wedding dress. It had a train and had an ombré from white to sage green so you can match the color theme. You had white roses in your hands and a crystallized vail in your face.

You saw Chandler tear up and caused you to tear up. Your dad was looking at you. “You look magnificent darling.” “Thanks dad.” You say smiling. You finally walked up to Chandler and he put your vail behind you. And he actually started to cry.

You saw in the corner of your eyes everyone giving the other money. You’re not surprised that they bet in this.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Y/N L/N and Chandler Bing.”

As the priest is going on you can’t help but start crying.

“Now Chandler repeat after me. I Chandler.”

“I Chandler.”

“Take you Y/N.”

“Take you Y/N.”

“To be my lawfully wedded wife.”

“To be my lawfully wedded wife.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“Rich and poor.”

“Rich and poor.”

“For as long as I shall live.”

“For as long as I shall live.”

“Now Y/N repeat after me. I Y/N.”

“I Y/N.”

“Take you Chandler.”

“Take you Chandler.”

“To be my lawfully wedded husband.”

“To be my lawfully wedded husband .”

“In sickness and in health.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“Rich and poor.”

“Rich and poor.”

“For as long as I shall live.”

“For as long as I shall live.”

“Do you Chandler take Y/N to be your wife?”

“I do.”

“Do you Y/N take Chandler to be your husband?”

“I do”

“In the power vested in me, You may now kiss the bride.”

And he did.

Everyone was cheering and when you pulled away you couldn’t wait to tell him.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh shit.”

An: YALLLLLLL this took all day it’s 4 in the morning rn the things I do 🤧🤧 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEE request more I have drafts but my brain can only take so much 🤧 but until I post again my lovers 🤍

[notfernintheslighest]

This has probably been said before, but House doesn’t really believe that Stacey, Wilson or the doctors are at fault for his leg. House blames himself, it’s pretty much directly stated in the episode “Three Stories” when he says “everybody lies” when referencing his choice to claim it wasn’t his dog who bit him. House’s mantra, the mantra of a man who believes lying to the doctors is the most idiotic thing to do, comes from when he lied to a doctor, and was left permanently disabled. Wilson would have known him for 10-15ish years at this point. Wilson and House’s continued relationship despite the fact that Wilson definitely should have stopped caring makes a lot more sense when how much of a personality shift House must have gone through after the event with his leg.

Obviously, House didn’t do a complete one-eighty, things like his stubbornness are mentioned to be previous traits, but he is a lot more jaded. He went from being a man who would give up his life for a dog, to someone who pretends to not care about anything. Wilson no longer sees House as just his eccentric, smart friend, he also starts seeing House in the way he sees his wives and his patients, as a charity case, something to fix. This is at the root of so many of their conflicts and I don’t think it’s talked about enough. I genuinely think the reason they are dating in the show is because Wilson probably only started acting “romantic” towards House five years before the series. Bonnie says that part of reason for their divorce is Wilson always being there for House, but not for her and they broke up somewhat recently to the beginning of the series. It is extremely likely that him doing that was a recent development, after House’s leg. Wilson knew House when him and Bonnie began dating, so she probably wouldn’t have married him in the first place or stayed with him for over a decade if this had always been the case. Which brings me to my final point, House and Wilson aren’t dating for the same reason he claimed he didn’t want to date Cameron for, they both want to care for and rehabilitate him instead of a mutually beneficial relationship, like the one he has with Cuddy and formerly Stacey. This is also why they definitely got together in the time Wilson had cancer since it would be them helping each other.

Ok, I’m done, have a great day, bye!

[kittycatcomander]

AU where SBI are villains, and Kristin is the villain wrangler making sure all the kids who get counseling in her office get a chance to meet who ever they want, even if they’re wanted dead by the hero commission.

Cue meet-cute(?) between Kristin and Phil, where she spends weeks tracking down the infamous “ Crowfather, killer of heroes and hater of the system” because some little kid wanted see him, and she stands tall and totally not terrified (/s) on a rooftop waiting for him.

And Phil is faced with this woman who spent hours and hours researching his routines not to arrest him but to let a little kid meet him, and he just falls for her.

So they exchange numbers, and everytime from there on out when Kristin has a kid who wants to meet The Blade or Orpheus or Nemesis she just casually shoots THE TOP VILLAIN a message, internally screaming, while Phil is kicking his feet on the air like a stereotypical teenager everytime his phone dings with a personalized ringtone.

Hero!Dream: I have finally confronted you, doer of evil! Today, our fight will be legend-

Crowfather!Phil: wait pause mate- OMG ITS HER 🥰🥰

Hero!Dream: wait wha-

Technoblade: I’ll take it from here

And so begins her getting really casual about the fact she personally texts the top villain.

I’m imagining some side stuff where she meets Tommy, a sidekick in desperate need of help (which she’s happy to provide), and a few others who’s relationship evolves with her over time.

Kirstin when first meeting the Blade: hooooooly smokes this guy is Dangerous, but if the kid wants to meet him… I’ll be prepared

Techno: uhhhhhh (struggling to interact with the receptionist, holds kids and swings them around gently like planes, lets them win fake fights)

Kristin: ok wait he’s like seven shaking puppies built like a brick house

She and Phil talk more and more as the arrangement continues, about everything and eventually life, and things shift from there. The first time that a villain tries hurting one of the kids also shifts their relationship…. especially since Kristin handles it as efficiently as she does.

There’s more, but in this AU I imagine Kristin to have a super dangerous power of her own (unregistered because teehee) that motivated her to work with troubled youth in need of help and kids working with a limited lifespan. I want her to be OP but just friendly and downplaying her ability since she was never in a situation to use it to the full extant.

Also there’d obviously be a CrimeBoys plot and adoption of Tommy into the family (bye bye Dream) which leads to her getting invited over to like. Family dinners and stuff, where the interactions are all completely cute and normal but undercut by her perspective reminding her of crimes they’ve all committed. Like-

“Phil, who had the most beautiful eyes but hands stained with the blood of approximately 3,791 people, passed her the salad with a bright smile. His son(?) continued the story of how he met a new friend. Kristin wasn’t sure if the story was in or out of masks, and she was scared to ask at this point.”

I especially want her to and Phil to reflect the two main approaches to changing the world, where you could either completely destroy the system in place (villains, anarchy) and forcefully restart, or you could tackle an issue at its lowest (if the world is full of corrupt people, change the people from a young age)

[joelalorian]

Blown Away

Dave York x f!reader | WC: 3200+ | Masterlist

Summary: How were you to know that Dave York blowing you a kiss in a quaint coffee shop one morning would change your life?

My contribution to @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge - I was given the above banner and the prompts blowing kisses and Dave York. This is my first time writing Dave, so hopefully it reads well.

No warnings for this one - it's pretty tame with some humor, fluff, and a teensy bit of angst. No use of y/n. Reader is pretty much a blank slate with hair.

“Come on, girls.” A handsome man in a deep blue business suit directed two adorable young girls with dark eyes and hair much like his own to a small table next to yours. “We don’t have much time before your mom gets here.”

“Ok, Daddy,” the older girl replied in a soft, sweet voice before sitting and digging into her pastry. The younger girl quickly followed her sister’s lead and the man sat back in his chair, sipping at a large coffee as he glanced around the room.

Your eyes met briefly; a flash of interest visible in his gaze before one of the girls drew his attention again.

The coffee shop – your usual haunt for easing into the day – bustled with activity in the morning rush before school and work. You sat at a corner table, your back against the wall, people watching as you sketched the scene before you. A father and two daughters eating a rushed breakfast. You wondered what their story was…

A pretty, dark-haired woman approached their table, a soft smile playing at her lips as she greeted the girls. Her expression quick to shift to one of displeasure at the lingering evidence of their breakfast. “Really, Dave?”

The man – Dave, apparently – released a long-suffering sigh. “A pastry is a perfectly acceptable breakfast item, Carol. That’s why they serve them here.” The man gestured around the shop, noting the number of tables with a pastry, including your own. He winked at you when he caught you watching.

“Whatever you say. You’d let them eat hamburgers for breakfast if you found a place that served them this early,” Carol retorted.

Enraptured, you added the woman to your sketch, perfectly depicting the scowl on her face.

“Jesus Christ, Carol,” Dave hissed, a hand swiping across his forehead in frustration. “You’re the one who picked this place as the exchange point. Am I to just bring them here and deny them anything while we sit and wait for you?”

“Girls let’s go. Say bye to Dad.” She stepped back, closer to your table, to let the girls say goodbye to their dad, completely ignoring his question.

Kissing each of them on the forehead, he hugged them tight. “I’ll see you in a couple weeks, alright? Be good.”

After directing the girls to walk ahead of her, Carol leant over the table to give Dave once last parting shot. “This is part of why we got divorced. There’s no reasoning with you.”

Darkness spread over his expression, lips thinning to a mere slash across face. Voice low and lethal, Dave spat, “No, dear, we got divorced because I caught you fucking someone else in our bed. Let’s not rewrite the narrative to suit your needs.”

You watched, with the fascination of someone driving past a train wreck, as the woman smacked a hand against the table and stormed off with the children. Dave sat at the table, tapping the corner of his phone against his lips. Your gaze drawn to his plump bottom lip by the action, you didn’t realize he stared right back at you.

The buzzing of his phone snapped you out of the trance, heat flooded your face when he cheekily blew you a kiss before he answered with a clipped, “York.”

He was gone before your brain could formulate a reaction.

The mysterious man plagued your thoughts. Inspired by his cheekiness, you developed a quirky habit of blowing a kiss to each of your sketches as you finished them.

Sitting, once again, at a corner table in the quaint coffee shop downtown, you sketched away the morning hours. Page after page became full of haunting dark eyes and pouty lips as you tried to get them just right. Finally satisfied with the shade and shape of the eyes, you pressed three fingers to your lips. Movement across from you caught your attention as you moved your hand, inadvertently blowing a kiss towards the person at the next table instead of your sketch.

You froze, watching wide eyed as the subject of your sketches caught the imaginary kiss with a smirk, pretending to tuck it into the pocket of his suit jacket. A shy, soft smile spread across your face at the silliness of it all.

His phone buzzed on the table, expression darkening as he answered. He held eye contact with you when he stood, barking a clipped greeting into the phone. Before turning to leave, he blew another kiss at you, winking cheekily at your reaction.

The pattern continued over the next few days – you sketched away, Dave watching from a nearby table as your brow furrowed in concentration until you finally looked up and noticed him. His lips always quirked up at the corners when your eyes met.

On the fourth day, the pattern changed.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?”

Your head popped up in surprise. The coffee shop busier than usual, the man stood next to your table. Drinking in his features now that he was so close, your mouth dropped open in utter fascination. You thought him handsome before, but up close like that he was downright gorgeous. Smooth, slightly tanned skin, broad shoulders, slim hips, lips that just begged to be kissed and nibbled…

Mentally shaking yourself, you nodded and quickly shuffled your stuff to the side to make room. “Of course.”

Silence settled over the table as the two of you stared at each other. His burnt umber eyes roamed your face just as yours did the same, cataloging each other’s features.

At last, his eyes dipped down to your sketchbook. “I couldn’t help but notice you sketching here every morning. Your work looks amazing from afar.”

Fighting the urge to snap the sketchbook shut – a sketch of the very man standing before you stared up from the current page – you murmured a bashful “Thanks.”

With a chuckle, Dave sunk into the chair across from you and placed his phone face down on the table. He sipped at his coffee before sharing, “I’m Dave by the way.”

“I know,” you replied, cringing once you realized how that sounded. Clearing your throat, you silently berated yourself for being so awkward before offering Dave your name.

Thick fingers brushed across his forehead – a tell, you began to think – and sighed. “Ah, you caught that little scene with my ex-wife the other day.” It wasn’t a question. “Sorry about that. Going through a divorce has been… challenging.”

“I can imagine,” you offered with an understanding nod. “I’ve never experienced it myself, thankfully.”

“Lucky you,” Dave replied, deadpan. Leaning forward, he gazed down at your sketchbook. “What are you working on today?”

Hesitating only a moment, you flip the sketchbook around and let Dave see the charcoal drawing of his own face. “Just capturing moments and people who catch my eye,” you admitted.

Those dark eyes nearly twinkled with mirth as he traced a fingertip along the curve of the 2-dimensional version of himself. “Extraordinary,” he murmured. He flipped through the book, stopping occasionally to admire something before moving on. Your skin itched with the urge to yank the book out of his hands, but you refrained.

“These are incredible. Do you ever sell your work?”

You met Dave’s intense gaze for a few moments before glancing away, embarrassed. “No, never. This is more of a hobby than anything, though I do work in a gallery. I just like to keep my creativity flowing.”

Shifting the sketchbook back towards you, he sat back in his chair and sipped at his coffee. “Shame. You have real talent. Do you work at the gallery on 5th?”

“Thanks,” you chirped. “Yeah, that’s the one. Have you been there?”

Dave shook his head sadly. “Not yet, but I pass by it all the time. It’s near my office. I should pop in sometime.”

“Really? What do you do?”

“I work for the government,” Dave hedged, a frown marring his handsome face when his phone buzzed. “Speak of the devil, I have to go. Let’s do this again.” He blew you a kiss before turning for the door, leaving you a little bewildered by the entire interaction.

Over the next week, you and Dave met, unplanned, at the coffee shop daily. Even on the weekends, he would pop in after an early run through the park to find you at the same corner table. You would talk for hours before one or the other of you had to leave for work or some other obligation.

He shared more about himself than you expected, claiming you were easy to talk to. You learned that he and his ex-wife, Carol, were high school sweethearts but the relationship struggled while he was away in the military, and following a few years of happiness, turned sour as they both changed from the kids they once were. Though he only shared sparse details of his time overseas, you concluded that he had been on one of those clandestine teams or something with how cagey he was about it.

“I wish I could have seen you in uniform,” you blurted afterwards, cheeks heating with a combination of embarrassment and desire. “I bet you looked hot.”

It was the first time you saw Dave blush. It was a good look on him.

You learned that he put his military training to use working for the DIA and traveled often on missions and undercover operations. He was cagey about the details, but that was to be expected, right?

You shared things about yourself during these chats as well – your unfortunate dating history, where you grew up, how you fell into the arts. Dave was equally easy to talk to and you found yourself spilling so many details about yourself.

Just when it felt like you might run out of things to talk about, Dave switched it up.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asked, his expression intent, like he just had to know the answer, yet his eyes were soft and wide, drawing you in.

“Blue. What’s yours?”

“Same. Favorite season?”

“Fall, you?”

“Really?” Dave questioned with a quirked brow, not expecting that answer. “I would have pegged you for a spring girl. Mine is fall as well.”

“There’s just something about the colors before everything turns grey for winter,” you explained, tender smile crossing your lips. “I used to love raking up the leaves as they fell from the trees and jumping into huge piles of them as a kid.”

It continued like this for weeks, meeting and chatting away the early morning hours. On exchange days, Dave would have the girls with him, and you got to spend some time with sweet Alice and Molly, getting to know them a little and see how Dave acted as a father. The tenderness and love he showed the girls left you in awe and you found yourself daydreaming about family life with him.

It took over a month and a half for Dave to ask for your number. His hesitancy at odds with the borderline cockiness with which he usually carried himself. You found it completely endearing.

“You know, I’ve really enjoyed our mornings here,” he admitted, fingers tapping against the table in a nervous tick as his dark chocolate eyes seared you. “It’s become the best part of my day.”

Grinning warmly, your head tilted as affection overwhelmed you. “Me too, Dave. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. You’re an amazing man.”

That gorgeous blush tinged his cheeks again while his pouty lips quirked up in a lop-sided smile. “I was thinking maybe we could continue these conversations outside the café sometime. Could I have your number?”

Heart beating heavily in your chest, you nodded. “Of course. I would love that.”

You barely exchanged numbers when his phone vibrated in a series of urgent buzzes. “And that’s my cue. I’ll text you later, sweetheart.” Dave stood, lingering at the table for a moment to gaze at you in wonder. In a move that was quickly becoming a signature between you both, he blew you a kiss before stalking out of the coffee shop.

Hours spent working in the gallery, speaking to pretentious wealthy people about works of art they knew nothing about, your mind wandered to thoughts of Dave. From the moment you first encountered the dangerously attractive man, you had been consumed by him. Your sketchbook full of his likeness, you still sketched more of him every chance you could, seeking to get each feature just right.

Dave texted you that evening. Curled up on the couch with a glass of pinot noir and a book, you smiled down at the notification. Reaching for the phone, you chortled at the message.

Dave: I was thinking about our conversations and realized they’re like my coffee – impossible to start the day without.

Getting to know this man was like peeling an onion. He had layers you never expected, leaving you excited to reach the next one. Before you could respond, another text came through.

Dave: I bet ending it with you would be even better. How about dinner tomorrow?

You quickly typed out a response, agreeing to meet at the waterfront at 7pm the following evening. A date. Dave finally asked you on a date. Butterflies fluttered in your belly as you texted back and forth the rest of the evening.

Two weeks and two dinner dates later, you were falling hard for Dave York. That’s why it hurt so much when he disappeared without a word, standing you up for your third date. The blow was especially heartbreaking as you already decided the third date would be when you gave your whole self over to the devilishly handsome man.

Your texts went unanswered for two days. You even broke down and called him a few times, something the two of you rarely did, each one going directly to voicemail. Unsure what to say and fearing you’d breakdown, you never left a message.

What could you have done wrong that deserved being ghosted? You wracked your brain, combing over every single interaction, and came up empty. As far as you could tell, everything had been going great. Yet, here you stood, all evidence to the contrary and a couple months of your life wasted. God, it hurt.

The coffee shop felt tainted now and you almost didn’t go on the following morning, ready to break your routine over the rejection. You couldn’t give in to the despair, though. You were a stronger woman than that. So, you found yourself entering the shop not long after they opened, ordering a latte and an indulgent sweet treat as the sun barely broke the horizon. A slip of paper caught your attention as you settled the items on your usual corner table.

Your name written across the center of the paper in a neat script, your fingers traced over the letters, heart pounding. Flipping the paper over, your eyes raked over the image depicted. A crudely drawn face – Dave’s face, you knew at once, even with the artist’s lack of finesse and skill – blowing a kiss at you. The words ‘Forgive me, please’ written beneath the sketch followed by coordinates.

Body slumping into the seat, you stared at the paper, mind whirling. Did Dave leave you a note? Did you just miss him? What in the world was he up to? Glancing around for a glimpse of him, you dug your phone from your pocket, frantically typing in the coordinates into the map app. You watched, wide-eyed, as the map zoomed in on the location… the gallery where you worked?

It had to be Dave doing this, right? Not just someone messing with your emotions, your hopes. It couldn’t be, that would leave you shattered beyond repair.

Latte and pastry forgotten on the table, you snatched up the sketchbook and fled the café. Feet pounding on the concrete sidewalk, you hurried the few blocks to the gallery. Still too early in the day, you knew it would be closed and your mind struggled with what you might find waiting for you.

Turning the final corner, your body slowed of its own accord as you approached the large glass windows displaying various works of art. Breathless, your eyes scanned the area, searching for some kind of clue. Frantic that you might be missing something, your eyes finally landed on a slip of paper taped to the front door, your name written in that same neat script.

Fingers trembled as you plucked the paper from the door and unfolded it to find another rough sketch of Dave’s face blowing you a kiss, another set of coordinates printed below it.

Your eyes darted around, searching for Dave or some other indication of what the hell was going on, but found nothing. Only a handful of strangers were around, urgently going about their business. With a heavy sigh, you entered the new coordinates into the map app and waited for the new location marker.

The waterfront. The exact same spot where you and Dave met for your first date.

Your feet carried you the distance, thoughts spiraling the while you made your way across several city blocks. A few times, your steps slowed as you considered turning around, going home, and forgetting about anything and everything to do with Dave. Something stopped you each time and hope finally blossomed into full bloom deep in your heart when your gaze caught sight of Dave.

Standing alone, leant against a light post with the brilliant colors of the sunrise cascading across the river behind him, his lips quirked upwards hesitantly when his eyes settled on you. Searching your face, he blew you a kiss.

“Dave.” Your voice cracked and the wind carried his name like a plea across the quickly closing distance between you.

“Sweetheart,” Dave replied, feet carrying him toward you in a rush. “I’m so sorry. I was called away last minute on a mission and couldn’t take my phone. I never meant to miss our date, to ghost you.” Gentle fingers brushed away the tears slipping from your eyes.

“I – I thought…” The words strangled in your throat while emotion overwhelmed you.

Pulling you close, Dave hummed in your ear. “I know. I know what you must have thought. It won’t happen again, I promise. I quit. I quit it all, the DIA, the… well, everything.”

Confused by what he meant by ‘everything’; your eyes searched his dark ones for answers. He responded by kissing you, drawing a gasp from you when your lips pressed together. Lips soft and pliable, he tasted of coffee and promises as you gave into the deepening kiss until you could no longer breathe.

After an eternity, Dave eased back, holding your gaze as his fingers combed through your hair, gripped your jaw. “I’ve already fallen for you, but there are some things about my job, about me, that I need to tell you, so you’ll understand why I quit. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”

“You can tell me anything, Dave. I'm already in love with you. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. I just want to be with you.”

He kissed you again, deeply and with a hint of the fire burning beneath his skin. You let him lead you back to his place, the journey a symbol of the new life awaiting the both of you.

[lovelyhan]

For svt hard thoughts what about perv!seokmin panty sniffer 🫣 like I imagine him just stuffing his face under your skirt, nose pressed against your panties, just jerking off to your scent alone… imagine him just being SO desperate but you have work to do, at your laptop at home so he’s just under your desk…pressed against the sink while you do the dishes…until you give in and just let him devour your pussy bc he’s being so distracting….ok bye hope that’s ok 😅

20:32 — SEOKMIN

Anonymous said: Hi, maybe dokyeom and tongue fucking for the hard thoughts?

oh my god you're both diabolical.... the image these asks painted in my head 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 seokmin is def the type to be so pussy drunk he'd live between your thighs forever if he could. anyway, this ended up becoming a little Long bc.......i ended up needing perv dk more than i should 🫠

cw: pussy fixation 🥴

you love your boyfriend. he's the kind of guy your mother would be delighted to know her daughter is dating. someone who promises your father that he'd have you home by nine.

seokmin is the epitome of every green flag in a relationship and you'll never really get over how lucky you are to have someone like him in your life.

but there's a little something about your oh-so perfect boyfriend that both of your parents are better off not knowing about.

"seokmin."

you attempt to suppress a groan when you feel the gangly man nudging your legs apart beneath your desk—chuckling to himself as he hikes your skirt up your thighs.

"baby, if you really didn't want me snooping around like this, then you would've worn your lounge pants instead," he chuckles and while you considered giving him a lecture about how clothes are not an invitation to get felt up by your boyfriend, you can't make a convincing argument when that's exactly what you were hoping for.

there might've been an ulterior motive for your choice to forego lounge pants like seokmin said. you might've been pent up all fucking day, wanting nothing more than to have his mouth on you.

but thank god seokmin is a big enough pervert that you don't even have to feel embarrassed for being as needy as you are.

however, as much as you want him to just push your panties to the side and make you come on his tongue, you actually have work to do. you make that very clear to your perverted boyfriend as he presses his nose into the gusset of your underwear—breathing in the scent of budding arousal as he mutters something along the lines of, "fine, but i'm staying right here."

you should've told him to just wait for you in your bedroom while you get this report done. because right now, you're much too distracted by the way his face never strays too far from your clothed pussy.

one of his hands paw at your inner thighs as he greedily sucks in your scent through his nose. judging from the slick sound of something wet and sloppy coming beneath the desk, you're pretty damn sure that seokmin is jerking his leaking cock in his fist—pretending the tight grip of his fingers is your sweet cunt instead.

long story short, you got zero work done that evening—too fascinated with the sight of your needy boyfriend coming into his fist as he sniffed you through your goddamn panties.

it happens again when the weekend rolls around. you and seokmin just got home from a quick stroll at the market when you decided to wash the vegetables you purchased so you could prep them for lunch in half an hour.

you weren't even halfway in washing the carrots when you feel your boyfriend drift behind you—lithe fingers trailing up the hem of your short sundress as he gropes your ass a little too lovingly to be considered dirty.

"i couldn't stop staring at your legs the whole time we were out," seokmin whines into your ear, pressing fleeting kisses along your neck as his hands trail further into your center. "want you to smother my face with pussy so bad, baby. you didn't let me last time."

"that's because you worked me up too much," you complain but make no moves to reprimand him when he sinks to his knees—flipping the hem of your dress up as he nuzzles the cushion of your panty-clad ass. "you think i had the patience for you to go down on me when i could have you rail me with your cock instead?"

seokmin chuckles breathlessly, taking the waistband of your underwear between his teeth before dragging the fabric down your hips with the help of his hands. you waste no time stepping out of the offensive garment—arching your back so you could present your glistening slit to your perv of a boyfriend.

"as much as i love feeling you come around my cock, nothing compares to getting a taste of this sweet pussy," he sighs before smoothing his hands across your thighs to part your folds—making you shiver at the sensation of the cool kitchen air against your cunt. "you always taste so good for me, baby. if it was up to me, i'd eat this pretty cunt everyday."

"liar," you huff. "just last night you said you'd do anything to have your dick inside me for the rest of your life."

"well, i'd also do anything to have your pretty pussy on my mouth for the rest of my life," seokmin argues but before you can rebut, he licks a long stripe from your clit all the way to your leaking entrance—making any sort of argument turn to dust in your mouth as your hands grip the sink tightly.

"good?" your boyfriend asks, and you don't have to face him to know that he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

feeling the last dregs of your self-control finally slip away, you move to press your arms against the edge of the sink for more stability—pressing your head against your wrists as you feel your cunt pulsing with need.

"just get on with it."

"what was that?"

throwing him a dirty look over your shoulder, you say, "lee seokmin, if you don't make me come on your mouth in the next five minutes, i'm banning sex for a month."

now that catches his attention–making seokmin peek from under the skirt of your dress with a scowl. "not even oral?"

"yes. now get on with it 'cause the clock is—oh!"

of course your boyfriend's sex-crazed brain is quick to act at the threat of having his pussy eating privileges revoked. seokmin flattens his tongue against your cunt, making come hither motions with his fucking tongue in a way that drags against both your clit and puffy hole.

your legs tremble with each pass across your folds but seokmin doesn't have any plans on letting you take it easy. he pins your hips against the edge of the sink to keep you from squirming, sucking and slurping your juices before easing two fingers easily into your slick entrance. the intrusion makes you gasp, bucking your hips against his hand as he continues the merciless assault of his tongue.

"f-fuck," you whimper, walls squeezing around his digits as you focus on the feeling of his sinful tongue against you. "baby, feels so good, shit."

"yeah? turn around for me, sweet thing," he murmurs into your pussy and you bemoan the loss of his fingers when he slips them out of you. "hop on the counter and spread these pretty legs for me."

the vegetables are long forgotten as you do as you're told—half-lidded gaze trained on your boyfriend as he stares at your spit-slicked cunt like it's a national treasure.

"fuuuuuck," he sighs, pressing breathy kisses along your inner thighs as he adjusts his position on the floor. it must be uncomfortable as hell, squatting just to get his face leveled with your pussy, but seokmin is anything but a quitter. "can't believe this sweet cunt is all mine."

the next thing you know, he's diving back into you—the sharp curve of his nose pressed against your clit as he crams his tongue into your entrance. the added stimulus makes you moan in delight, finally realizing why seokmin wanted to eat you out like this instead as your fingers find their way into his hair.

"baby, your tongue's so fucking good to me," you mewl. "'m so close, kyeomie. need to come on your mouth..."

seokmin inhales sharply through his teeth—those usually sweet eyes of his clouded with lust when his gaze momentarily flickers up to you.

he's relentless with his ministrations—licking up each surge of arousal that leaks out of your hole before slurping it all with his tongue. seokmin eats pussy like it's a fucking art form and before you know it, you're creaming against his face, rolling your hips against his nose and lips as you ride out your high.

your boyfriend's mouth doesn't stray too far even as you lose yourself to the tides of release. he continues laving at your cunt as if it's the last day he'll ever get a taste and if the iron-tight grip he has on your hips doesn't leave bruises, you'll be really disappointed.

by the time your orgasm subsides, you're a boneless, twitching mess on top of the sink and seokmin fills your ears with an endless string of praises as he helps prop you up.

"my beautiful baby's always so good to me," he murmurs, kissing you softly and you try not to get turned on when you taste yourself on his lips. "you don't care how much of a perv i am, don't you? 'cause you're just as perverted yourself. letting me have this sweet pussy anytime i want. you're an angel, baby. the sweetest angel out there."

your breath comes in broken pants as you make starry eyes at the sweet, loving smile that seokmin cracks your way. how does someone who looks like this have the filthiest come out of his mouth?

then again, that's just one of the many things you love about lee seokmin.