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#i gotta enjoy at least A Bit of my night. Sunday can't be my only good day this weekend before i gotta work for a whole week again.

btsgotjams27 · 8 months

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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?

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jeon jungkook

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whosjunglejim4322 · 3 years

Text

Bramosia | J.Seo (m)

Genre: pwp, knight!au, smut, fluff, he is, and I can't stress this enough, madly in love with you

Warnings: loss of virginity, pussy eating, mutual pining and longing, it's forbidden but who's gonna stop u??? Exactly. Inaccurate descriptions of the time period probably, inappropriate use of the word princess, he fucks you to tears, this is so self indulgent I gotta blast

The moons unearthly luminescence bleeds through the windows that sit directly above your wing of the old castles corridor, a reminder of why he bears the heavy sword that hangs off of his hip, of why he's here in the first place.

He rolls his aching neck, blinking his dry eyes a few times in an attempt to dampen them. He's usually not so worn by now.

Perhaps the two of you had gotten too carried away last night, it's too easy when you're with eachother. Effortless, like that of a flowers perianth traveling wistfully through a summers breeze. It's easy to forget.

He's here to protect you, nothing more, as he is was a proffesional in all that he does. He is a knight, after all. One of the best. Your father wouldn't have requested him from a province so far away if he weren't damn good.

Six months ago, it seems like a lifetime away and yet the memory of seeing you for the very first time is so vivid behind his eyelids, tangible as if he could reach out and hover his palms over the warmth the halo around you seemed to emit.

He smiles to himself, the image keeping him sane and distracting him from the ache in the soles of his feet. He knows you're probably not sleeping, he wishes you wouldn't worry about him. He's doing it to himself, really.

He is a warrior but he is only so strong, so resilient. He has never been stricken by such a force as to have his bones feel as weak as they do when he looks into your eyes, when you cup his face in your hands like he is the most delicate thing you have ever seen.

Sure, he hadn't been the most nonchalant. His eyes barely left you even during the brief moments in which his life is not sworn over to do so, and you being you, caught him almost every time. You'd smile, fleeting enough for only him to notice.

You never get the credit you deserve, he had come to find out over the past several months. Being a princess, as fawned over the title may be, it wasn't meant for you.

You'd scowl at the name of every prince your father mentioned might come visit, which he'd take pride in secretly. You wouldn't even scold him whenever he'd been clearly protective in a manner than suggested that it was more than just the job that inclined him to act that way.

Perceptive, and clever you are. And to think, you might feel even a fraction of what he feels, it causes his heart to thunder loudly behind his sturdy ribcage, momentarily reducing his fatigue.

You are the only one in all of his twenty five years of life that has threatened to shake his very foundation, like you've found a way to wind yourself through every ridge of his skeleton like vines of Wisteria.

Sundays are always the hardest, you're still so fresh in his mind, on his skin. It's like every inch of him has been permanently marked, he can still feel the weight of your body against his and the warm puff of air from your lips against his earlobe as you sing his name.

His sigh is quiet in the vast, empty space around him. He shouldn't be thinking of you so late, when he's so tired. It makes him ache for you all the more, make him wish life was anything but what it is now. That he could be with you unabashedly.

That he could be your protector, and not just in a way that could be be permanently devastated if anyone were to find out about the two of you.

He doesn't realize he's closed his eyes, not until he has to peel them open and search for the source of the soft voice he's just heard whisper his name into the dark.

He furrows his brows as a stream of warm candlelight spills through the crack in your door from your room, your form coming into a few just a moment later, as if beckoned from his dreams.

"You're really going to stay out there, John?" He foresees your incredulity, smiling at the hand thats propped up on your hip.

"Those are my orders, princess." He has a hard time not staring at you, even in such poor lighting you are still the most beautiful thing he's ever witnessed.

He's always stubborn about breaking the made up rules you two have put in place, like only meeting in private on Saturdays. Despite his inability to resist you he still needs to keep you safe.

"My father is a whole wing away, don't you know," you emphasize your point by stepping out past your doorframe, tiptoeing at an almost imperceptible pace towards him. "and if danger were to arise, how much more convenient need it be, than for you to be right there with me?"

You're standing right in front of him now, weaking his resolve eith each syllable that passes those pretty lips of yours. It's strange, how he still wonders if your feelings for him are resolute as his are for you, when you're the one always asking for trouble. Eager to have your way.

When you reach out to grab his waist, he breaks.

"Princess, if someone were to see that I'm not outside of your room guarding as I'm supposed to,"

You interrupt him, pressing yourself closer until he can feel your chest against his, the barrier of his clothing suddenly a burden far heavier than before.

"Who? Who might see? Everyone is asleep, you should be."

You stare up at him and he can't seem to resist the pull, meeting your eyes and unclapsing his hands from behind his back to stroke the apple of your cheek with his knuckles.

You heel into his touch, beaming as you realise you've already gotten your way, evident in the way he sighs your name as if the word fills him with oxytocin.

"You really are trouble," he cups your face, calloused fingertips swiping a fallen lash from underneath your eye. "trying to lure me in, like a siren. I'd be willing to go, anyways."

You lift yourself to the tips of your toes, pressing a brief, featherlight, kiss to the surface of his lips. Just enough to bring forth warmth to his cheeks.

"You're silly, I'd be too selfish a siren to do any damage. I'd have to keep you all to myself."

His arms are strong and steady as the encapsulate you, the fears and worries of outside intruders fading with each second spent in eachothers presence. It's like nothing else exists.

"Please, Princess. It's hard enough already, to be away from you," he's on the verge of losing any bit of hope for his sanity, but as anticipated, you won't have it.

"And you don't think it's hard for me? You think that I enjoy knowing that it is prohibited for me to be like this with you? I am many things but I am not selfish, so if you don't want to come with me then I won't force you."

He has to bite back a laugh, or maybe a scream of frustration and agony all at the same time. Here you are, so close he's sure you can hear how his pulse pounds beneath his skin at your presence, actually accusing him of not wanting you. It's preposterous.

You glare up at him when his arms don't loosen their grasp.

"You must be mistaken, sorely mistaken. If you think that any moment spent without you is even the least bit pleasant for me, you're wrong. So wrong it's a bit humorous," he kisses your cheek, and then the other. Your skin tingles where his lips grace.

"You may not be selfish but I am. So selfish that I'd give into my own desires even if it meant that one slip up could ruin it all. Don't you see that?" You sigh blissfully, in spite of his words, when he kisses your nose.

"Well I think that's stupid, I'd never let such a thing happen. I've lived here my whole life, I'd be able to predict the likelihood of someone coming up here during such a late hour."

He doesn't miss the pitch of sadness that comes with talk of the castle, he knows that there is so much you still have yet to experience. So much you'd like to do, so far away from here.

Still, he can't deny the truth in which you speak. You're right, and he knows that you're as careful of these things as he is. He trusts you, as you trust him. And what is he going to do, say no? He'd never have the willpower.

His broad shoulders relax, his hands suddenly engulfing yours.

"Alright, you don't have to pout anymore. You know I'll end up kissing it from that pretty face of yours anyways."

You suppress a giggle of elation, squeezing your fingers around his as you turn to quietly pull him into your room, peering into the the hallway once more to make sure the coast is clear, before you ease your door shut.

And then at once, he is what you taste on your tongue.

His lips always leave you breathless. The way he kisses you, it's as of you are his only source of oxygen and his lungs burn with the need for air. He is fierce, but so very concise. You almost forget that he so ruefully pretended to put up a fight.

Your arms mold around his neck as he slouches the slightest bit in order to make the reach easier for you, knowing how you like to bury your hands in his hair and tug at the strands whenever he does something that you'd like more of.

Your eagerness is a bit more exuberant tonight, normally you'd still be a bit bashful, giggling between pecks and having to turn your face away before kissing him again.

But you haven't pulled away from him yet, not even for a breath and suddenly his skin is sweltering towards what feels like a hundred degrees. He's pretty sure you've just whispered his name.

He's already gone, helplessly lost in the way you're clinging onto him with all your strength.

"John." Just his name falling from your lips in the form of a sweet sigh has his knees buckling.

He's careful, hesitant even, when he cups the back of your knees and allows you to fall atop your bed, the sight almost too much to bear. He can never catch a break.

But he has to look at you, has to see the look in your eyes, the gleam that shines in your blown out pupils as your fingers tug at the clothing hanging loosely on his body. He fights back a groan.

Of course things have gotten intense between the two of you, but nothing more than over the clothes petting. And, even then, that drove him to the brink of insanity. He didn't think he could ever be putty in someone's hands until he met you.

It feels like everything is happening so fast yet not slow enough, it seems as if you're blooming like a lotus before his eyes and he wants to capture every little detail. Just incase one day his memories are all he has of you.

You pull him back down to your mouth, legs suddenly looping around his trim waist, knees locked on either side. You practically purr as his hands, large and tender, grace your thighs only to be met with bare skin where your nightgown has risen up.

He's breathing heavily when your mouths depart momentarily, his doe eyes an onyx pit of desire and emotion as he stares down at you, lips ruby red.

You nod, as if reading his mind and answering the dozens of unanswered questions that sit unmoving at the tip of his tongue. Still, his eyebrows are pulled together in concentration, in tentative restraint.

"You can touch me. Please, touch me."

Your skin is heavenly underneath his trembling touch, from the soft hair atop your thighs to the way you so perfectly mold around his fingers. You're a gift of the most ethereal kind, here in front of him.

You coo at him with a voice of an angel, pulling at his face in an attempt to have him kiss you again. He's been too busy ogling, and repays you with the press of his mouth against the crook of your neck.

You lift your chin to allow him more access, eyes fluttering closed and thighs tightening around his middle when you feel the warmth of his open mouth against your throat.

"You're so sweet, so pretty." He mumbles, practically floating.

He nips at your collarbone, and you can't stop your hips from bucking up against him, your clothed center meeting his hardened length through the material of his bottoms.

The air is thick with tension now, you can feel it buzzing through the both of you like ths thrum of a thunderstorm. He sucks in a breath, lips ghosting over yours.

"I want to make you feel good, If you'd allow me." He tries to control the shake in his voice but he's not sure he's succeeded. What a mess you've made of him.

You kiss him for what seems like the hundredth time but feels like the first, still sending jolts of electricity through your body and causing heat to swirl in your loins. You can barely speak.

"Y-Yes, yes I'll allow you."

Your voice is foreign to your own ears, clouded with desire and a desperation that is as overwhelming as it is strange and new.

But having him here, knowing he's the one whose hands are touching you, it's comforting in a way that leaves no room for doubt that he is nothing but kind. Nothing but adoring.

It's hard to tell with just the luminosity of a single candle on your bedside table, but you're almost certain you can feel him shuffle. At least, his weight seems to have shifted, his arms suddenly caged around your waist, upperhalf between your legs.

And then you feel it, the plushness of his lips just above your knee as he lifts your legs by your calves, placing them over his shoulders. You're not sure you can focus on anything else now, breathing suddenly heavy.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" His voice is so close, yet far away in an unfamiliar way. It has butterflies swarming your belly.

"I'm so lucky, so so lucky..." He trails off between kisses, shifting from one thigh to the other, slowly but surely making his way towards your center.

It's only now in your bird brain that you're beginning to realize what exactly he's about to do, and it's like some switch inside of you has been flicked on, toes suddenly curling in anticipation, wetness soaking into the fabric of your underwear.

The desire isn't just in your belly now, its everywhere. All consuming, when he pushes your nightgown up and bunches it around your hips, the air cool against your skin. You shiver, and his cheek brushes against the crease of your thigh.

"Have you ever been touched like this, princess?" He's curious but not pushy, just wants to know. When you shake your head, he swallows.

He's slow and steady, pulling your underwear off your hips and down your legs, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. You don't clamp your legs shut, despite the instinct to shield yourself. You've never hidden yourself from him, and you know there's no reason to.

Esepcially not when he's looking at you like he is right now, like a man starved whose just been presented with a meal of his favorite kind. He glances up at you, with eyes that shine with gratitude, and awe alike. You reach out to stroke his hair.

And then, suddenly, his face is gone from your view. You feel it, first, before you register that it's happening. A gasp leaves your lips the moment your back arches ever so slightly off of your mattress, his hands keeping your thighs apart as his tongue licks another flat stripe through your folds.

You feel exposed in a way that only feels as intoxicating as it does, because he's the one with his mouth on your cunt, suckling your bud between his lips and swiveling his head side to side. You tug at his hair.

A guttural groan resonates in his throat and the vibration serves as direct stimulation, a mewl leaving your mouth as you buck you hips up against his skilled tongue.

"Shhh baby, stay quiet for me," you furrow your eyebrows, looking down at him with stars in your eyes. "I know, I know sweetheart." He reads the pleading in your eyes, soothingly rubbing your hips as he delves back in.

It's not easy to stay quiet. Not at all.

If you'd thought him rubbing your clit through your clothes was something to be noisy over, nothing prepared you for this.

He's so good at it, so generous with every lap of his tongue. The sounds are lewd and loud in the shared space, and his tongues pace only increases when you reach down to find his hands. He intertwines your fingers before you give him the hint.

You try to keep your volume low, your whimpers almost inaudible but loud enough to spurr him on, to have his hips rutting against the bed while he kisses your cunt with passion only a lover could have.

Bliss overcomes you faster than you expect, and swallows you whole like a vicious, unmerciful hurricane.

Your thighs tremble against his strength as he keeps them parted when they threaten to close, your fingers twisted in the comforter as tears well in your eyes.

You're not sure if you're making any noise, the light too bright behind your eyes, bones suddenly weightless as his tongue licks you clean. You twitch, aware that you've let out a whine. The feeling is agonizingly pleasant.

You're still throbbing when his hands suddenly grasp your jaw, head lolling in his direction as he presses his lips to yours. He's serene, slipping his tongue into your mouth, humming.

You're certain, now. Certain that you need to have him in every way there is to have someone, for your heart may forever be unsettled if it doesn't get to taste what it's like to love him wholly, completely.

"I want to-" you've got his rapt attention, as you always do, and he stares down at you with a lovesick expression as you struggle to find the strength to say it out loud.

He's grown accustomed to reading your countenance, only time allowing him to grasp the meaning behind every crease and line that forms on your face, he's certain you could give him one look and he'd instantly know what it is that you're trying to say.

One perk to having a secret rendezvous, though he still needs to hear you say it. He'd only take your word for it regarding something like this, something that he's dreamt about more times that he'd like to admit.

He can't hide his surprise, thumbs stroking your face.

"You want me to..." he quirks an inquisitive brow, nearly becoming distracted when your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. "you want me to be your first?"

Even the words have you latching onto him tighter, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

"Yes, I want that very much...do you...also want that?"

He grins, widely and for a moment you forget he was born to be made of steel, that he's fought all of his life and has bruised his skin for the sake of his kingdom. You want to kiss away every bad memory in his head.

"How could you even think you have to ask? I want nothing more, just you. You're all I'll ever want."

The veracity in his voice, suddenly hoarse, makes your skin feel like it's being tickled by a million, tiny feathers. You never knew anything could feel like this.

A heartbeat later, your hands are slipping underneath his top to make an attempt at pulling it off, your excitment not a good match for your lack of coordination. Of course, he doesn't mind helping.

He slips his sword from his hip while you stare up at him with wide eyes of reverence and desire, so much of him being exposed at once causing a swelter of heat to boil underneath your skin.

Your hands are hesitant, hovering around his lithe hips as he sits back on his haunches, chest rapidly rising and falling as the atmosphere begins to soak into his pores. He can't believe he gets to make love to you.

"You can touch me, princess," he's the one reassuring you now, knowing that beyond your headstrong personality when you're with him, you're still so timid; trembling like a leaf in autumn.

His dexterous fingers gently grasp your wrists, placing your palms over his abdomen, keeping your gaze all the while, head nodding in encouragement.

He's soft, soft on the surface at least. The soft down that covers his honey colored skin is like silk underneath your fingers, a juxtaposition to the rigid muscle underneath that flexes as your fingertips move upwards towards the broad planes of his chest.

You hook your fingers around his shoulders, and pull him down to your mouth, determined as your heart bellows inside of your body.

It's wilder this time, the wet sounds loud in your ears, his tongue waltzing with yours. You rake your nails down his sides, and he damn near growls.

It's a blur, the way he slips the straps of your gown from off of your shoulders, before removing the garment completely and throwing it behind him. Somewhere in between he pulls the covers out from underneath you, sensing the chill that runs through you like a tremor from the exposure.

It's during that brief moment when you're too drunk on adrenaline, that your fingers begin pulling at the buckle of his bottoms, too eager again and not being able to unfasten it correctly. Always the gentlemen, he does it for you, again.

He's careful now, not completely planting himself against you yet when he kisses your neck and takes your breasts in his massive palms, squeezing indulgently.

You pull him up by the ridge of his jaw, wrapping your legs around his middle as you had previously, letting out a small gasp as his hard length suddenly comes to lie heavy between your legs when you beckon him closer by your heels on his back.

"You're sure you want me?" He slips his hand that's not cupping your cheek, down in between your bodies to rub your clit with his middle finger, actually expecting you to be able to speak coherently. He supresses his gasp upon feeling the abundance of your essence.

It's hard to focus, when he's looking down at you like that, when you can feel every ridge and curve of his naked body against yours. Perhaps it's being able to to tell that he's feeling the same way just by the way he speaks, that makes it so intoxicating.

"You're all I'll ever want." You echo his earlier words, and his laughter fills your ears like a lullably. You reach out to push his dark hair out from in front of his eyes, his lips catching your palm and placing a kiss to the center.

"It'll hurt, I'll go as slow as you need me to." You see the worry creased between his brow, and you soothe it away by clenching your thighs around his waist, silently beckoning him.

"Please, please fuck me."

It takes him by surprise, cock twitching against your sex. You sound so sweet, so angelic even when you're requesting something so filthy.

He lifts himself on his forearms, reaching down to grasp his shaft. Your hands are in his hair a the while, fingers tracing shapes across the nape of his neck. You suck in a breath when he rubs the tip against your clit, arousal leaking from your slit.

He rubs his cock against you like this, through your silken folds and back up to your sensitive nub, until your head is thrown back against the pillows, face turned to the side and canorous mewls slipping past your lips.

Your eyes flutter open when he kisses you, finally prodding your entrance, readying you. Your teeth gently sink into the plush surface of his bottom lip, as if urging him to continue.

Your mouth falls open when he begins to push himself inside of you. You have to brace yourself by clinging onto his biceps, reminding yourself to breathe.

If you weren't as wet for him as you are, you're sure it would be more painful. It still stings, even more so as he begins to bottom out, using every bit of self control he has as to make sure he doesn't accidentally rut into you with too much force.

He meets your eyes when he's fully sheathed inside of you, your fingernails leaving crescent moons in his skin. He doesn't mind it one bit.

"Are you alright?" The tenderness in his voice is accompanied by his lips across your cheeks, down your jaw, over your eyelids.

"Mhm. J-Just stay like this, for a second, please." Your walls flutter around him and his eyes fall heavy. He stays as still as he can for the moment, fingers massaging your soft hip.

"I never thought...never dreamed we'd get to do this." He speaks in an irrevocable way, swelling your heart over two times its size with how he talks about you. Like you're truly something magical.

You wiggle your hips, his gaze searching for yours and lighting up with newfound determination when you give him conformation to move. He slowly drags himself out, before pushing himself back in.

"If you only knew...how much I truly think of you." You speak steadily despite the wave of pleasure that ripples through your body, from the pit of your stomach outwards, touching every nerve.

He's big, bigger than you expected, but curved in a way that has you fighting a cry. Your lungs ache with the need to make noise, to express how it feels to have him inside of you like this. You squeeze around him, and he smashes his lips against yours.

You never thought it would feel like this, you'd heard mixed reviews but clearly none of them had ever experienced what it's like to have someone like him demonstrating their skill.

He's precise, a little shaky but only because he's concentrating on not literally cumming after two minutes. You're everything he's ever wanted and more, you're soaked and warm around him, chest pressed flush against his. Your hardened nipples threaten to distract him.

His hair tickles your forehead as he begins to create a steady pace. He's got one hand behind your right thigh, cupping it and hiking it up just the slightest bit while he fucks into you, curling his hips.

He swallows your moans, tasting the sense of surrealness on your tongue. He feels it too, groaning when you tug a tuft of his hair.

"You're mine, all mine, fuck." His voice is hoarse, hips stuttering as he begins to rock into you, not completely pulling himself out of you before nudging your cervix again. His mouth catches the edge of your jaw, then your earlobe.

He buries his face in your shoulder, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his hair as you keep yourself quiet. He can still feel the way you're shivering, the whispers of cries that are audible when you breathe.

"I'm yours, I'm yours." You're not sure you could ever feel this way about someone else, and not just because he is all that every single one of your senses seemed to be attuned to.

He's deep inside of you, reaching places you never would be able to by yourself, and still holds you like you're the entire world. Despite the need that consumes you both, he takes his time.

You feel him everywhere. On your neck, your throat, down to your clavicle where his hot tongue soothes over the mark he's just made.

You can almost feel him in your belly, the tip of his cock nudging the sweet spot of nerves deep within you causing your body to jerk in his hold. He takes note and is determined to drive you over the edge, knowing he's not going to last much longer.

He's yearned for it too long, and nothing his mind could have conjured up would ever compare again.

He lets go of your leg only to bring his hand to where your bodies are connected as one, your face contorted into a mask of pleasure as he begins to rub at your clit, in circular motions, with the same rythym as his thrusts.

"John, ohhh, you f-feel so good." You're slurring your words, high off of his affection. Your belly feels hot, a pressure just behind your navel leaving you writhing, trying to match his pace.

"Yeah? Feels good to have me inside of you?" He's being cruel now, already knowing the answer by the way tears are swelling in your eyes for the second time tonight, irisises shining back at him.

Your hands roam his sides, settling on his hips as you turn your face to hide it against his bicep. He kisses any expanse of skin that he can reach, till the wet spots leave a trail of chills along your body.

You're close, and he knows it. You're already leaking onto the bed, dripping down his shaft.

"J-John...p-please." You're blubbering now, and his fingers circle your clit faster, just enough to have you breathless and unable to speak as his strokes become inconsistent, cock throbbing.

"Shh, I got you baby, gonna make you cum okay? Want you to let go."

Looking up into his eyes, it's hard to resist. Suddenly it's the first time you've met and you're awestruck by his beauty all over again, by the sharp planes of his face that you'd come to realize are soft underneath your touch.

You're kissing him again for the first time, and his lips are as plush and pillowy as they look, his hands big and wsrm as they hold your face steady against his mouth.

You realize you're in love with him for the first time again, staring into honey colored irises and listening to his velvet voice, aware that when he's gone it feels like a piece of you has been taken along with him.

Your body suddenly stills, save for your back arching and his body, sturdy and whole, there to anchor you while you forget you breathe. Your orgasm is all the more powerful this time, with him inside of you, and it's like once youre unraveling it doesn't stop.

He holds the back of your head and allows you to muffle your cries against his chest, fingers latching onto any part of him you reach first, as if you might fall of the face of the earth. He's still rubbing your clit, whispering sweet encouragements in your ear.

You don't pick up all of it, only vaguely aware of the tremor in his tone as he says your name.

And then he's locked against you, every muscle in his body rigid and hard as a strained, muffled whimper resonates from beside your head. He's biting into a pillow, as warmth fills you to the brim and he sloppily fucks it into you.

You're still reeling, when he kisses you like someone who hasn't seen their lover in years and is finally getting the chance to touch them again, to wordlessly express how enamored they are. Wholeheartedly, and irreversibly.

He says it first, which surprises you, considering in your dreams you're always the one professing it to him, stroking his skin or petting his hair and whispering it in between kisses.

But you're sure this is real, you can feel ache in your bones, the throb of your centers where they're still connected.

"I love you." His voice is even more beautiful when he's speaking in such a simple, yet profound way. There's a quiver, but not because he's not being honest. He'd swear on his life, for his conviction.

"I love you too." You reply, looping your fingers round the nape of his neck, toying with the soft hair there.

Maybe he shouldn't be so shocked, but he is. His face can't hide it, the quirk of his full lips, the furrow of disbelief in his brow. You want to kiss his stupid face a thousand time over.

"I love you." He repeats it, as if the words bring forth sunshine on a day shrouded by the darkness of rain clouds.

He repeats it again, when he's hovering over your lips, breath warm against your skin. He repeats it again when he's placing kisses to your forehead, when you giggle and stroke his cheek.

"And I love you, silly silly man." You remind him, willing him by the longing in your voice, to believe it as you believe him.

He repeats it again, when a tear cascades down your cheek like a diamond shaped declaration of your honesty, and he kisses it away, claiming it for himself.

You love him, and he loves you.

And maybe, no matter what happens, that'll be enough.

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cherry-gemz · 3 years

Text

Summary: This is a continuation of the movie Before We Go and my interpretation and imagination of an A/U. Brooke is you (Y/N) and Nick is still Nick :)

Prompt: "Just admit that I'm right." for @the-ce-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles for Nick Vaughan.

Pairings: Nick Vaughan x Y/N

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: <2k...is this a drabble still? Oopsies XD

A/N: I watched this movie for the first time just last week. It's now one of my top 3 Cevans movies! While I'm all for a romantic, serendipitous, spontaneous trope...much like Before Sunrise *no spoilers*, the ending was great, but I wanted a different spin. No pressure...yah, right! Either way, hope you enjoy xx.

Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @tonystankschild @a-little-counter-esperanto

****************************************************************

You sniff and rub the end of your coat sleeve with your nose. Had to be the chill in the air, you thought. Not the fact that you just spent the most amazing and life changing night with a man you just met hours before and it was ending.

You stare out the train’s window; the gentle hum of the cart gliding across the steel tracks echoed in your thoughts. You shook your head in thinking that you made a mistake. I should have stayed...I should have told him how I felt…

“Nick. It's you again. Listen. I want to give you one more piece of advice. You're gonna be playing one night... Grand Central... thinking of every reason in the world to not go see the girl that broke your heart. Then, you're gonna meet somebody. And now, at first, she's gonna seem… icy. You're gonna know right away she's trouble. She's gonna take all your money. You're probably gonna get punched in the face. But stay with her; you're gonna need her a lot more than she needs you. And at the end of the night, you're gonna want to say some things, but don't. Don't ruin it. It's nothing she doesn't already know. Just give her a kiss. Wish her good luck. And thank her. Thank her for showing you that you can love more than one person in this life.”

He was unbelievably charming. You said so yourself. His raw talent with the trumpet was beautiful and different from what you were used to. The suburbia of the Boston bubble was what you were forced to live in now. You were from London, you were cultured and refined. Sure things with Michael were exciting at first, but the ho hum of the daily diatribe of routine became loathsome. Dépaysement. But you still never wavered in your marriage. Unlike Michael who had crossed that sacred line and lost your trust. It wasn't even fully the physical aspect that he went to another woman. It was the intimacy of telling her his deepest desires and then some that hurt the most. That he would want to share that with anyone else but you. But tonight. Tonight was what made you see clearly.

"It's possible, isn't it? It's possible that you could meet somebody who's perfect for you even though you're committed to somebody else," you asked as you bit your lip.

"No, no, see, I think if you're committed to somebody, you don't allow yourself to find perfection in someone else."

You found yourself blushing and cupping your cheek in thoughts of Nick. He was right. The whole night was a cluster mess of you trying to get home before Michael so you'd be able to throw away that wretched note. That he'd come to his senses and forget Linny. That he'd realized he was a fool and you'd start over. Just like old times.

However, slowly that feeling of reconciliation faded away little by little as each hour in the city passed. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but somehow the scrappy trumpet player Nick Vaughan etched his way into your icy heart and left an impression and stayed.

His fluffy, dark hair - so soft and inviting for you to rake your fingers through it was enough to drive you mad. His scruffy beard, which tickled when you kissed. You already loved ghosting your palms over it softly and imagined being able to do it whenever you wished. He said earlier into the night you weren't his type; you scoffed, but we're annoyed that it bothered you. You were a classic model of what guys were into, looks wise. Sure, your attitude was what rubbed some people the wrong way, but Americans really were too sensitive.

He however...he was the full package. Every toothy grin, wink, and full hearty laugh. He was addicting. He was a dead ringer for a heartthrob, but you also couldn't hate the guy for it. He was the friend you'd call to bail you out of jail at 4am and the boyfriend that you could see settling down with. It was nauseating really.

And then his lips. His soft lips...you can’t believe you kissed him in the hotel room. And then again at the train station. But you would have kicked yourself for not doing so in the first place. The way your fingers interlaced themselves on his terry cloth robe, how desperately you wanted to press your body against his. All you wanted was for him to feel that burning need within the apex between your thighs and extinguish it all night. But it was more than that, he was what you were missing. But you were kidding yourself. You weren’t running to Michael, you were running away from Nick.

But why? Because of the unknown? Because he actually knew who you were deep down inside? How could a man you barely knew, change you? Change what you thought was true, what you thought was love?

You dove your hand into your wool jacket’s pockets to push any thoughts of self-doubt, when you realize there was a piece of cardstock. You were puzzled to find it and immediately smiled in recognizing the hotel survey card. You bit your lip as you read down the survey questions one by one and notice Nick’s handwriting at the bottom, ‘turn over’ with an arrow.

Curious you turn over the hotel card and he’s written the word ‘yes’. Yes? You furrow your brow and contemplate further what he would be saying yes to. You think about the night - the time at the bar, helping him with Hannah, when you went to the psychic reading. Yes? What in the world - and then you turn the card back over and realize that on the second to last question it asked “Will you be likely to return?”

None of the boxes are checked, but he’d written ‘yes’ on the back. Yes. Yes he’ll return? Where? To the hotel? But when? You look up and rush to think about stopping the train dead in its tracks to return back to Grand Station. You breathe out heavily and come to terms that this isn’t a movie. He’s not chasing you down the tracks, jumping on the train to find you. Or is he? You wouldn’t put it past him. The whole night was filled with serendipitous concourses, this would be icing on the cake. You dart your head around to see if he’s in the cable car. It’s like in every rom com movie ending, the man of your dreams will be right there. He’s somehow charmed his way into boarding the train and found you waiting like a princess in her high tower. The train car is dark and bleak, only a few passengers are riding it as it’s the first route to Boston on a Sunday. You peer over to see if he’s in the next cart, but alas he is not. You slump in your seat and rub your thumb methodically over his words.

"Have you ever had a feeling that somebody was going to play a major part in your life?” you ask.

“Yeah."

“Do you know the most interesting thing about hotel art? It's what's on the back.”

It’s then you realize you have to return to New York. This story wasn’t about you and Michael anymore. No, it was about the man who selflessly helped you while you were in need, not only at your dire hour, but metaphorically as well. This was meant to be. You were meant to miss your train, break your phone, and meet the handsome man named Nick Vaughn. You knew he’d still be in the city because of his audition for the day with Duke at least, if you could just get to him somehow...

Your knees bounced as you sat on a cushioned chair in the hotel lobby. You had planned to wait there all day, but then realized the $13 train ticket was your only way of providing you security back home. So you went home. Confronted Michael. Cursed, cried, and then relief rushed over you as he had read your letter and how you knew about the affair. How you wanted to throw fists on his chest and tell him how much you hated him. But once you saw him, you found it didn't matter to you anymore. Someone else was worth fighting for. Your marriage was over. The hatred and spite you once had for your husband had dissipated. Your world didn't end like you thought it would. This wasn't your only chance at love. You were choosing to be happy, whether it was with Nick or not. This was the first time you were going to jump without having a net.

And Nick was wrong. Michael didn't want to work things out, he was coming to tell you that he loved you, but that and he'd be returning to Atlanta for good. The house, car, everything was yours: Nick said so himself, you gotta be okay with not being okay. So you walked away. You made the choice just like the psychic said and took it in stride, you faced the music.

However now you found yourself back in New York. Not the once stranded woman at a crossroads less than 24 hours before, but the woman that made a choice. You were worried that Nick would see it as you running away again. Running away because Michael didn't choose you. But in reality you didn't choose each other.

Still without an ID, you took your car and better against the four hour drive to the city and hoped a cop wouldn't pull you over. You thought of the night in the hotel. The laughs, the closeness you two encountered. The playful and cheeky way he could make you feel seen. You were starting to get nervous, what if he doesn't show up? What if I missed my chance?

"I'm an idiot," you murmur to yourself. "I can't believe I'm here."

You stand up and realize there Nick was there in your path. He looked a little worn, obviously from staying up all night. But he had changed and showered from the looks of it, and his signature trumpet case held in his hand.

"Well look who it is. The biggest loser in New York."

You laughed and blushed at the sight of him. He slung his trumpet case over his broad shoulder and walked over to close the gap.

“Just admit that I’m right.”

"Admit what?" You ask as you find yourself touching his jacket sleeve.

"Admit that you couldn't get enough of me." You hitched a breath from his words.

"You can say that."

"I can't believe you came back," he responded. His blue eyes gazed into yours as he brushed away a tendril of hair from your face.

"I read your answer to the survey...on the back."

"The stay did exceed my expectations and I did say I would return," he smiles.

"And here you are."

"Here I am…" he pulls away slightly as he's reminded that you're married.

"I jumped," you replied.

He's taken back by your statement and furrows his brow.

"What? With what?"

"I told Michael it was over."

"Wow. I'm so...sorry, Y/N."

"Don't be. You said so yourself, at some point it was time to face the music."

He nodded, absorbing the information.

"Say what's in your head."

He shook his head and grinned,"I'm just glad you came back is all."

"Yeah? How'd you know?"

"I didn't. Just sure as hell hoped you would."

He intertwines your fingers with his and holds tight. Like a missing puzzle piece found, your hand fits perfectly with his.

"Whaddya say we get out of here?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I may know a place," he smiles devilishly and gives your knuckles a kiss.

You grab his dress shirt collar and turn him towards you. He runs his hands through your hair and places his lips upon yours, kissing you deeply. It's a kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after you part, neither open your eyes for a few moments afterwards and he embraces you tightly.

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."

#drunk drabbles #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #nick vaughan #before we go #before we go spoilers #nick vaughn x reader #romance

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suganovakawa · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , slight hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , recovery from amnesia

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐈 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐕

enough is enough; it’s time to give hajime an ultimatum.

word count : 1.3k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀"you've been silent ever since we got here." your eyes lazily met hajime's, which were strained with concern and confusion. "c'mon, if i'm paying, then you gotta at least tell me what's on your mind." he solidified his statement by reaching out to place his hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it within his palm. you enjoyed the warmth he radiated, though you remained silent and simply kept your hand there without reaction.

⠀you felt lost, more lost than ever before. more questions began to pile and stack up higher and higher, and not even a slimmer of an answer had shown itself yet. an endless labyrinth of mystery, that became worse with every turn you took. you were frustrated with yourself. you were frustrated with iwaizumi. you were frustrated with oikawa. you were frustrated with the world.

⠀"y/n." he said it more firmly this time, now getting impatient with your silence. "stop staring into space, i'm right here. you know you can tell me what's going on in your mind. i'll do my best to help or assist you in anyway i can."

⠀that was a lie, you knew it was, and he knew it was. you almost laughed. he'd tell you jackshit. he only wanted to help if it would make him look better in your eyes. why? did you hate him before everything happen? is he trying to make amends? is that why he refuses to tell you anything that would trigger any memories to clear up? what was he achieving by keeping your own life a secret? he had every answer you wanted, and wouldn't tell you anything from it.

⠀to make matters worse for yourself, now, you couldn't trust oikawa. there was something there. you felt it. your body, your nerves, your heart felt different. the atmosphere around the injured third year became different. your subconscious remembered something your brain hadn't picked up on yet. your body reacted on its own whenever tooru came into sight, your instincts telling you to flee, to get out of there as quickly as possible. you only had your instincts to trust at this point; instincts, and a gut feeling. even then, your gut feeling seemed to enjoy remain dormant.

⠀"it's nothing, hajime. i just didn't get enough sleep last night." you snapped at him lightly, your frustration building up as you sat back, removing your hand from his hold. "i'll be fine. thanks for taking me out today. i almost thought you'd forget."

⠀"never." his smile was almost arrogant, crossing his arms and sitting back in his own chair. "like i said, it's my treat. i wouldn't go back on my word."

⠀"right..." you were bored of him at this point. he was just fishing and hoping that you would praise him for his selfless actions. "it's friday, right? i've got nothing to do this weekend." you were partially talking to yourself, your thoughts still focused on finding ways to get your memories back. you had no leads, or clues; that wouldn't stop you from trying, though.

⠀"want to do something this weekend?" he shrugged. "not sunday, though. i'm a bit busy then. but saturday i'm free. i'll take you somewhere for the day. again, my treat."

⠀"you need to let me pay one of these days. i'm not entirely broke." you huffed and shook your head, before shrugging lightly to his suggestion. "i guess so. i've got nothing to do, either. i might sleep early tonight, though. i need it." that was a lie. you just wanted to get away from him for the rest of the day so you could do stuff on your own.

⠀"that's a good idea. sleep is important. you need your rest."

⠀you yawned to solidify the thought. "my thoughts exactly."

⠀"i'll text you tomorrow about it. for now, i'll just walk you home." you nodded, and in no time, the two of you walked out and as promised, he made sure to walk you all the way up to your front step. "here we are. i'll see you tomorrow, y/n."

⠀you took a chance. as he turned around to walk away, you grabbed his wrist, almost desperately, and pulled him back to turn him around. he was silent, but his eyes were fixated entirely on yours. you used this chance to look into his irises, to see any possible sign of him hiding something, anything from you. his eyes were completely unreadable. there was nothing there, but so many things all at once. like he had everything but nothing at his disposal. "please, hajime." you begged quietly, your lips quivering. "please, i just want to know something from before the accident. i want to remember. i want to recall. nothing has come back to me." he tried to pull away but you only grasped onto him tighter. "just one thing, hajime. that's all i ask for. tell me at least one thing if you can't tell me everything. stop hiding my life from me, please. i want to know what happened."

⠀he was considering it. you could see it as he moved his gaze away from you, now unable to maintain eye contact. he had stopped fighting your hand and stood there, almost defeated. you squeezed his hand one more time, as if to encourage him to say something.

⠀nevertheless, it failed. you wanted to cry as he quickly pulled his hand away from your grip, his jaw clenching as he seemed to be fighting something internally. "if you haven't remembered anything, it must be for a reason, then. maybe your conscience is trying to protect you from the pain your past self faced. you shouldn't fight it."

⠀"don't you get it?" you raised your voice at him, now just angry. "i don't care, hajime. i don't give a single shit. i don't care if it hurts me. i don't care how bad it was before the accident. i don't care if i killed someone before the accident, or committed any kind of crime. i don't give a shit. i just want to know! don't you understand? you have everything i want to remember, and you just dangle it in front of my face and mock me with it every single day. you have me wrapped around your finger and all i can do is pretend i'm doing fine."

⠀you pushed him away by the chest as he tried to step near you. "don't. don't hug me, don't touch me. i'm tired of you only painting yourself as my hero and knight in shining armor. you're keeping me in the dark, and i'm tired of it. i just want to remember, hajime." you pointed at him. "wouldn't you want to remember everything if you lost all of your memories?"

⠀he was speechless, but you were already done with today. you left the question rhetorical as you lowered your finger and turned around, opening the door hastily.

⠀"i'll think about it."

⠀you heard his voice, quiet and faint, like a whisper. "it's a lot to unpack, and i don't want to stress you out with it. but if you go out with me tomorrow, i... i'll think about telling you."

⠀"that's not how this is going to work." you snapped right back, your grip tightening around the doorknob. "if you aren't going to tell me, i'm not going with you anywhere tomorrow. the moment i find out you won't, i'm going home, and you aren't going to follow me. i hope i've made myself clear."

⠀you slammed the door in his face and watched him walk away from the window. once he was out of your line of vision, you took a deep breath. you did what had to be done. now, the decision was now in iwa's hands. it was an ultimatum. either he would come forward with the truth, or he could kiss your day, and friendship with him, goodbye. you were sick of it, this was your boiling point.

⠀you really hoped hajime would see your side.

a/n : i’ve got nothing. we’ll see what decisions are made in the next chapter :>

taglist ( closed ) — @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-alot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam @0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixca @chickenrest @tycrackculture @ynjimenez @karaseijoh @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddlesslut @crypto-s @keigosbitch@readeretal @shittykawaa @donghyuckster @adriloen @ella-solei @emiyummy @kukiisan@catyuyuyuu @sillykittt @dolan-mendes @kiritokunuwu @the-third-wall @yammerss @todohawki

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strongsassysexysloane · 3 years

Text

Eight Day of Twelve - A Sweet Surprising Treat

A/N - these may be getting worse.. bit I'm glad everyone is enjoying them >.< When I first started I thought I'd have a bit more time to write but work is killing me with extra hours. So I'm doing my best lol.

As always click below for previous drabble

. . . .

"Jimmy, no." You glared at him from across the table as best you could. For some reason you couldn't pull off the Gibbs glare when it came to Palmer.

"Come on. I've seen the way she-"

"Oh sure, you can't see what's going on between Bishop and Nick but you somehow notice the sparkle in Sloane's eye when it comes to y/n?" Kasie all sass, taking another bite of her bacon. "When do you get out of your cave to spy on them anyway?"

"Oh please, that was all a bit of fun to see Nick's reaction." He waved off. "Plus I see everything." He wriggled his eyebrows and it seemed to take the creepiness out of his statement. Very Jimmy.

"Since when do you play with people like that?" You raised a brow, you were slightly impressed. Trying your best to ignore the stalker intent he mentioned. You'd circle back to his spying ways another time.

"Everyone seems to come to me with their secrets and problems or does it just happen because people confess more when there's a dead body around?" He questioned the universe, genuinely asking if that was the case.

You laughed, taking the last bite of your pancakes and washing it down with some coffee. This was your second cup in under half an hour. Last night had been a long one, Jack hadn't let you go to sleep until midnight. You shook your head at your own thoughts. Jack didn't let you do anything, you just didn't want to be the one to end the texting first. You paid the price with the lack of sleep and early morning rise for breakfast with friends.

"What you shaking your head at and don't say Jimmy." Kasie leant back in the booth beside you.

"How do you know it wasn't at Jimmy. I shake me head all the time at some of the things he spots out." That made Kasie laugh, mainly at Jimmy's reaction of shock humour.

"I shake my head at myself too but mainly I'm just running away because Gibbs always-" He looked over his shoulder and you both laughed at him.

It was good catching up with them outside of work. It had been a hectic month or so which meant everyone was busy sleeping if they weren't at work. The office Christmas party was only a week or two away and you and Jimmy seemed to be the only two excited. Probably because he wanted to show off his new ugly Christmas sweater he'd been raving about for weeks.

Breakfast was over too soon which Kasie being called into work to follow up with another teams case and evidence being brought in.

"Please. Let me."

"Why is everyone buying things for me lately." You huffed.

"Oh boo hoo. Poor me, I have a secret admirer who buys me gifts." Kasie fake wiped her eyes and rolled her eyes.

"You know in our line of business it could be classed as creepy."

"Thanks for putting that one in her head Jimbo." Kasie patted his back. " Mr always positive is lacking today."

"Gotta keep it real, kids." He cracked his knuckles as you pushed the door open and let them exit first.

"Never say that again. Please." You both laughed at Jimmy's pouted lip but agreeing nod.

"See you at work tomorrow." Kasie waved, hopping into her car.

"Enjoy your freedom." Jimmy grinned, walking a bit further to his car.

You made it to just after lunch when you got the call. It's not like you weren't expecting it and at least you got 24 hours rest before heading back in. First you needed to make a pit stop before who knows how long you'd be up til tonight. You needed the extra caffeine because the diner coffee was starting to wear off.

You got ready in a rush with the priority being coffee from your local around the corner. It technically being your Sunday you didn't put much effort into your attire and raced out the door.

You pulled your car into a spot just up from your coffee shop and slipped your gloves on before stepping out of the car. It was cool days like today where you wished you had a nice thick scarf to stop the icey breeze from hitting the back of your neck. You jacket collar just wasn't cutting it these days.

The coffee shop was warm and a nice breath of hot cocoa hit your nose when you opened the door.

"Ah there you are. I was wondering when you'd come in. No work this morning?" Sharon, the owner, came out from behind the counter with a cloth, wiping down the table beside you.

"Technically my Sunday but we got called in anyway." Your shoulders slumped and you added a little pout to make yourself seem even more whiney. "Need a pick me up, don't know how long it's going to be."

Sharon smiled, wiping down another table in two quick swipes before scooting around the counter to start your order. "One extra large coffee with two sugars and cream annnnd..." She turned around from the computer and picked up a box resting next to the coffee machine.

"What's this?" She placed the cardboard takeaway box in front of you.

"Open it silly." She beamed, finishing off your order in the computer and tapping her finger on the credit card machine.

You tapped your card before opening the box. It was six of your favourite cookies. "What?" You were even more confused.

"I got a call this morning. Don't bother asking who was it, I swore on my life O wouldn't give anything away." She held up her hand just as you were about to but in. "Nah! No questions. You get free cookies and no answers." She beamed as you rolled your eyes and grumbled a little. "Shush, I'll make your coffee and you go save the world."

You laughed, she had quickly become one of your favourite people in the neighbourhood. Always making conversation with the regular customers and making you feel cared about. She was very concerned one day when you hadn't shown up for a week ( you were on a stakeout) almost said she called the cops but then she remembered you were one and that you were most likely on important business. She was sweet and kind, giving you extra shots when it looked like you needed it and she'd tell you too.

Now she was in on this rouse and there was no way of getting information out of her. Not even Gibbs could crack this woman. I don't think he'd dare try.

You happily accepted the coffee, which had three shots in it not two like everyone got. With the box of cookies tucked under your arm and the caffeine already flowing through your veins again you headed to the crime scene with only one question on your mind. Who the hell was this secret gift giver?

. . . .

Hope this is ok, hardly edited >.< Enjoy while I work almost 9 hours when it was meant to be my day off. Ah Christmas in retail. Hate it.

#ncis #ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #ncis christmas #jimmy palmer #kasie hines #jack sloane #jack sloane x reader #ncis 12 days of christmas

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castielscarma · 3 years

Text

Johnson

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29176002

Dean took Cas' hand and grinned before kissing his knuckles. “It's Sunday. You know what that means?”

Cas smiled at Dean's cheerful display. “Usually it means a nice dinner and our weekly hike with Sam and Jack.”

Grumbling, Dean lowered Cas' hand. “It means funday.”

“Dinner and walking, isn't that fun?” Cas arched an eyebrow at Dean. “I was under the impression you enjoyed the time with Sam and Jack. Nature is one of the things Chuck did right– “

“We don't think about that asshole anymore.”

“Right. So what did you have in mind?”

Dean pointed a finger at Cas. “I was waiting for you to ask that question, Cas.” He grabbed a pamphlet from his back pocket. “Check this out. The museum has an angel exhibition.”

Cas licked his lip. “Oh, you were talking about that kind of funday.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. “Yeah, that kind of fun. So, is that a yes?”

“I don't know what to say... we have been frequenting that museum fairly often. While I do understand the allure of openly – “

Dean kissed Cas, a soft, innocent kiss. “Let's get a deeper understanding of the allure, Cas. Besides, it's an angel exhibition.” Dean stilled. “Oh, sorry, Cas. Man, it never crossed my mind. We can do this another time, another exhibition.”

Cas grabbed Dean's hand and kissed him back. “Dean, this has nothing to do with it being an angel exhibition. I made my choice freely and it's not a decision that haunts me.”

Dean nodded. “OK, I just wanted to – you know, I don't want to upset you.”

“You're not.”

Dean smiled. “No?”

“No.”

“Alright, then take me to the art museum and make out with me.”

Cas smiled his gummy smile. “Let's go.”

Dean groaned as he pulled into the parking lot. “An all-nighter. I can't believe you suggested that and that Sammy said yes. Why?”

Cas shrugged. “I think it was fair. Sunday is usually our hike day.”

“Yeah but all night? You know what that means?”

“Campfire and marshmallows. Maybe the moon will be out and we'll see the stars.”

“No, it'll mean mosquitoes and us trying to fall asleep while Sam snores like a bear knocked out with tranquilizers. And he'll insist on bringing weird camp food like dates and zucchini.”

Cas stepped out of the Impala. “I think you're exaggerating.”

Dean closed the door with a bang. “I'm not.”

“It'll be fun. And you and Jack can go fishing.”

Dean patted his pockets. “Fuck, I forgot my wallet. And it's cheating that you're trying to bribe me with fishing.”

Cas pointed at his pocket. “It's here. And is it a bribe? I'd consider it more of a promise.”

Dean laughed. “Let's go check out some angels.”

“Let's.”

~~~

Harry Johnson, the security guard at the Esbon museum was sitting in peace, eating a Milkyway when he almost choked on a piece. He blinked, looking at the couple, and sure enough, it was them, Trench coat and Bowlegs. He was not getting enough paid to deal with shit like this.

Sure, he shouldn't assume that they would do it again, but Harry was a practical man. He'd seen them twice before and both times they'd acted like idiots before fucking. One time in the west wing, and on time in the Nature room in what had then been turned into a bee exhibition. And no, it hadn't been explicit fucking, more hands he figured, but what he did remember was the damn jokes.

Who were these middle-aged men anyway, skulking around in museums making out? Didn't they have a Ford Fiesta they could desecrate?

Swallowing the last of his Milkyway, Harry grabbed his flashlight and went after Disaster Duo on Legs.

~~~

Dean stared at the angel statue in marble. It was kind of bizarre seeing the angel statue with no head or arms but he couldn't deny the craftsmanship. The tunic she was wearing cling to her body but it was the wings that caught Dean's attention. They arched behind her seemingly in triumph.

“She's beautiful, isn't she?” Cas said.

“Yeah.”

“Can't believe this is stone. Look at the feathers, Cas – “ Dean stopped. “This isn't weird, is it?”

Cas chuckled slightly. “No, I'm fine, Dean. And my wings were more... impressive than this.”

Dean smiled warmly. “Not everyone can be the size of the Chrysler building.”

“No, they can't. But I do appreciate the artistry. Humans always depicted angels as beautiful, even in their wrath, and imagined them in their image. I do find that hopeful. Maybe mankind saw themselves as divine and then never questioned that angels wouldn't look like them. They never once thought that angels would be something less than them. We're – they – were hardly as noble and just as humans hoped them to be."

“Maybe not them, but you weren't so bad, Cas.” Dean elbowed him slightly.

Cas nodded, a small smile on his lips. “You don't know this, but I was known as the hottest angel in my garrison.”

Dean laughed. “I bet you were. You're hot as a human too.” He licked his lips. “So, you gonna make out with me?”

Cas tilted his head, amusement making his eyes shine. “I don't know if I'm allowed.”

Dean furrowed his brows. “Why the hell wouldn't you be allowed to kiss me?”

“You're not allowed to touch the masterpieces.”

Shaking his head, Dean splayed his hand on Cas' chest and pushed gently, forcing him to take several steps back. “You're the masterpiece, Cas.”

“Is that so?”

Dean nodded and pushed him again so Cas' back was against the wall. “Yeah, and someone's gotta nail the artwork to the wall.”

Cas grinned. “Are you that someone?”

Dean kissed Cas' jaw. “I do have a hammer.” He wrapped one arm around Cas' waist and pressed his groin against Cas as he grabbed Cas' hair and whispered, “This pounding requires a steady hand.” He moved his hand and squeezed against Cas' groin.

The sight of Cas closing his eyes, and how he breathed out slowly as not to alert anyone else of what they were up to was hot as hell.

Just then, Cas opened his eyes and bit his lower lip. He flashed Dean a smile as he looked at him through his lashes. A rush of arousal washed over Dean. “C–Cas I think we should maybe – Cas knew very well what he was doing to Dean and damn him but it worked.

“Go? But we just came here. Don't you want to... come before we go?”

Holy hell. They should go to museums more often, Dean thought.

~~~

There they were, plastered to each other like clay and straw behind the angel statue. Harry shook his head. At least he managed to get to them prehumping. The darker man, Trench coat dude was thankfully against the wall and not against the statue or any artwork but he did not like how Bowlegs was moving; soon they would be against that painting of the angel trying to teach the old guy to read and that painting was not only borrowed but expensive as hell.

“Hey!”

Trench coat at least had the decency to look sightly ashamed but Bowlegs turned to look at him with murder in his eyes before apparently recognizing Harry as the security guard. He groaned. Fuck his life, both of them could basically be his dad. “This is a museum.”

“We're aware.” Bowlegs said with a gruff voice but if Harry wasn't mistaken there was some humor underneath.

“Is there a problem?” Trench coat said as he took a step to the side.

Harry blinked at Trench coat's appearance. His hair was disheveled and his lips were puffy from kissing. “Uh, the museum is for looking at art, Sirs.”

Bowlegs' gaze flashed to Trench coat before nodding. “Oh, I know.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Yes, so please. Refrain from touching the art,” Harry swallowed – what had his job become – “and, uh – each other.”

Trench coat adjusted his clothing and nodded. “Will do.”

Harry ignored the slight chuckle from Bowlegs.

Bowlegs came up to him, a disarming smile on his face.“Didn't mean to cause any trouble, officer,” he glanced at Harry's name tag and winked, “Johnson. We'll be on our way.”

As Bowlegs and Trench Coat left the room, he could hear them laugh like a couple of teenagers. Harry wiped a hand across his face. Adults these days.

~~~~

“I can't believe you called him that,” Cas exclaimed as they went to another part of the museum.

“What? It was his name, Cas.”

“It was how you said it. I'm just glad we didn't get kicked out. Can you get banned from a museum?”

Dean took Cas' hand in his. “I dunno. Probably. Wanna try?” Dean winked.

Cas smiled. “I feel rather hungry.”

“Yeah.” Dean motioned with his thumb to the exit. “Wanna get out of here? I spotted a nice restaurant just a few blocks away.”

Cas shook his head. “I'm not hungry, Dean.”

“Oh? But you just said – ”

Cas gaze went down Dean's body.”I'm hungry.”

“Oh.” Dean pulled Cas towards the exit. “You don't have to ask me twice, cowboy. Let's go.”

#castielscarma #my writing #destiel does the museum #established relationship #destiel ficlet #rating teen

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bunny-bts · 3 years

Text

Summary: Truth can be harder to bring in than the cattle and spirits can be harder to raise

Warnings: language, angst, mushiness, toxic relationships, mentions of religion, cattle/ranch life, love, drama, alcohol consumption

Authors Note: This one is specifically for me and a friend, I have no idea how many words as always and I'll try to make this a one shot not a series because I just abandon those but if it gets too long I may have to make it a series

Rating: M, no smut but suggestive and mature topics

Characters: Namjoon x reader, Taeyhung x reader's friend

"Morning, Y/N," Namjoon smiles as he enters your kitchen. "Morning Joonie, what are you doing here?"

"oh...uh....your dad sent me over to make a delivery...."

"oh, okay. Come on, sit down and eat," you gesture to the seat across from you at the table and wipe your mouth with the cloth napkin before sitting it beside your plate which was piled over with cheesy grits, sausage, scrambled eggs and some leftover roasted potatoes from supper. You slide your chair out to stand and he comes over to sit as you walk to go grab him a plate. "We had some garlic roasted potatoes last night, want some? The garden out back worked nice for the garlic and the potatoes in the crops came out nice this year so dad brought some home and I made it"

"Yeah, sure. Thankyou.....so the crops are good?"

"Oh yeah, and Mary Lou just had a calf last night and dad says I can keep this one"

"oh yeah? You happy?"

"Totally, you know I try not to get too overly attached usually...."

"Yeah, I know, and I know you've wanted to keep one since you were little," he smiles over at you. You can't help but giggle and jump in place, "I know~," you clap your hands. "You do know you have two horses right?" He laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck, sitting his hat in his lap. "Yes, I love them Cortney and Karen. Shush, let me be happy," you playfully scold him as you continue making his breakfast. "Okay, how're they doing?"

"They're great and Karen has a show soon so I'm getting her mane done and some new shoes-oh! Want to come boot shopping with me? I want to get a new pair so they're shiny, I've been working in mine and they're muddy and I want some more jeans with the studded embroidered pocket designs"

"Shopping?" He makes a face that's a mix of disgust and uncertainty. "Please, it's for Karen's show and my friend is coming to visit"

"Since when do you have friends other than me and Tae?"

"Since about six months ago and haha cute, I'm feeding you," you bring the plate to him and then pour him some juice before sitting back down to eat.

"Maybe, I'm pretty busy but when do you want to go?" "Well, her show is next week and Jeff is coming then too so maybe....Sunday, after church?"

"Yeah, that works, we can go after we leave and get food....Jeff," he did not like the idea of it being a guy. You had all too recently ended a really bad relationship. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Who was he kidding, he didn't like the idea of anyone with you that wasn't him, but, he wanted to protect you after your last boyfriend. "I know what you're thinking, and yes. Jeff needs this"

"Alright then, this is good, just orange juice?" "Yeah, I need to run to the store after work. Want to come with?" "Can't, delivery." "A long one huh, well do you need anything? I can shop for you and take it over"

"Uh no no yes, yes, I need everything, all of it, groceries," he laughs, "do you know where the spare key to the house is?" "My bra, you gave me one last year when you went to Florida, remember?" "Oh yeah, alright," he had already finished, "can I meet the new addition before I start the day?" "Sure!" You were already running out of the door. "Wait, we gotta do the dish-" "I'll do it when I get back!! Come-on!" You grab his hand a pull him.

"This is Mochi," you introduce him. "She's cute," he smiles and pets her and her mother, "alright," he stands back up and stretches. "Hi Karen, hi Courtney," he waves to your jet black Friesian horse with the gorgeous wavy mane, the ever graceful and snooty Karen and the tan Mustang with black from the hooves to the knees like long socks and dark black hair that have a red highlight at the tips in the sun, the ever goofy and stubborn Courtney in the stalls nearby in the barn. "Well, sun is getting up so I should get going. Where are they?" "Uhm, oh! These," you guide him to the cattle he was here to get and he starts loading them up while you wash the dishes from breakfast and put the leftovers away.

"Bye," you wave to each other as you're both heading out for the day. You were already excited for Sunday.

"Morning," Taeyhung scrolls up, he worked with you. "Hey Tae, oh, we decided, she's coming next week on Thursday"

"Awesome, you've been excited. Jeffree right? I have a room ready for her at my place, can't have her stay at a hotel" "Cool, great, thanks you're a sweetheart, I'll tell her"

The next few days passed as always, only now you were excited because you had Karen's show so you got to prepare for that, got her groomed and everything and you were making arrangements for your guest, Jeff, your friend online you met through a mutual liking of a band. As always, days were tiring but Taeyhung made them interesting. The three of you, you two and Namjoon and had been together for as long as you can remember since Taeyhung moved to town when he was six and you all went to the same church. He was a good guy, they both were.

"Night Lil, see you in the morning," he waves goodbye and slips his gloves off as he walks to his truck to go home for the night. The two of you felt like siblings after spending pretty much every day together, you worked most days of the week together then on Sunday there was church where ofcourse the 'golden trio' as the church elders had coined you, all chose to share a pew, and snacks and memes; and after work you would sometimes drink together. You all had other friends from church too, but they weren't as close as the three of you were. You had no idea that Namjoon didn't feel like you were a sibling, maybe he used to, but not for the longest time now. It was Saturday, which meant, going out with them for a drink and something to eat. Taeyhung had insisted he was tired and would see you at church in the morning so you go home, well to the house. You wash up and change into clean comfortable jeans and a clean t-shirt then head out to the bar. You were starving after a days work to say the least, breakfast had worn off forever ago.

"Y/N!" He waves and gestures you over and you skip, for lack of better verb, over to the stool next to him. "Hi Y/N, what will it be?" The server asks, you order your drink first and a appetizer to share with him. That usually was more than enough to fill you both up. "Okay....since the other day....I've been thinking....," He speaks, his hands fiddling with his glass beer mug. "Thinking about what?" You ask curiously and sip yours. ".....Maybe it isn't my place .....but uh....about this Jeff.....I do-"

"it will be fine, relax," you grab his shoulder. "A-Alright.....how was your week?" "It was good, Tae Tae said he was tired so he went home...."

He nods, "that's weird...."

"I know right!? How was your week love?" You were too busy enjoying your drink to look up and notice him change color at the term of endearment. "Oh, I missed you...you guys, I missed you guys," he smiles, those dimples that melt your heart when he has a bashful moment appearing on his cheeks. "Aww, we missed you too. I think Tae is excited about Jeff coming, he has a room ready and everything. Oh, you remember we are going shopping tommorow after work right?" "Yeah, I remember, oh he's happy ab-Jeff is staying with Tae! That's great!" "Joonie ......honey, are you alright?" You ask, raising a brow at him. "Oh...oh yeah, it's just-hotels would be expensive," he covers and is thankful you nod in agreement. It's silent for a bit while you wait on your food, he taps his fingers on his glass and looks straight ahead mostly except for when he steals quick glances at you. His insides were shaking like the leafs on a tree and his foot was tapping like Thumper against the bar on the bottom of the stool as he hears a song come on that he knows is one of your favorite. Letting his eyes scan the room he sees a few drunken couples dancing like complete idiots. "Hey, it's your song......we should dance?"

"You're joking, right? Joonie, seriously"

"no, really," he laughs

"Alright, what the hay?" You shrug and down your drink so you won't care and could actually go through with it.

He chuckles and holds you steady, "feeling brave now?" "Mhm, oh yeah," you nod and giggle.

That Sunday is was a bit of a struggle waking up after the night you had before, Namjoon was sure that you are plenty and drank water but that wasn't enough for him so he drove you home and called Tae to come and get him so he could drive his truck home; he wanted to tuck you in. The shopping after service was fun, Tae even came, he wanted to get a new shirt and some new jeans which he got several of and wanted your opinion on all of them then he proceeded to also get new pointed toe boots. The week seemed to drag for you both as you both got closer to Thursday but it was finally here.

"Tae wake up," you smack him because he stayed over and was going to ride with you to get her. "Hmm?" He sits up slowly and wipes his eyes. "It's Thursday, she texted she's at the airport" "Oh, yeah"

You pick her up together and bring her back to Tae's place and show her around. She seems nervous at first and quiet, shy. "Relax," you laugh as you give her a tour and help her unpack while you wait on Namjoon to come. Tae had seen her pictures online because you had shown him but it was his first time meeting her as well.

"Y/N," he called out for you from the kitchen. "Just a sec, Jeff," you go out to him as he's drying his hands from washing dishes. "Can you introduce us?" "Yeah, sure? Come on," you pull him by his arm.

"Jeff," she turns to you as she is putting her things away on the floor. "Taeyhung is shy, He wants me to introduce you guys."

"Oh, hi," she smiles and you instantly notice his reaction and it all clicks in your head, making you try and hide a smirk. "This is Tae Tea and Tae this is Jeffrene, Jeff"

"H-Hi," he smiles and they shake hands, "Taeyhung," he says, she notices how deep his voice actually is and paired with the shyness has to laugh. You share a look about how adorable it is.

"Hello?" Namjoon calls from the front door. You introduce everyone.

"Jeff is a girl," Namjoon is shocked, you just wanted to see his reaction to thinking it was a guy. Funny, as you suspected.

"There's nothing to do today as far as work...," Tae speaks, directed to you. "Okay? Cool, what should we do?" You ask them. He pulls you off to the side, "c-can I take her to get some boots?" "Some boots?" You cross your arms. "Y-Yeah....," He tucks his hands in his pockets, "I want to show her around...."

You take his body language into account and conceal from him that you see he is crushing on your friend. "oh yeah, that's a good idea, you can take her to meet the girls" "Thanks," he tries to hide how overly excited he is, "h-how do I ask her?" "Okay, it's really complicated," you put a hand on his shoulder, "here is what you do"

"Yeah?"

"You go to her and you," you pause

"Yeah?" You could tell he was falling for your trick. Sweet gullible little Taeyhung, you loved him so much.

"and you say ....do you want to come with me to buy some boots? I want to show you the animals on the farm"

He gives you a squinting glare, "you're an asshole," he says while you're laughing and Namjoon is listening in and kindly restricting himself. You both watch your friend approach his first crush.

"Hi....," He smiles and greets her again, with a awkward little wave, one hand tucked into his back pocket. "Hi"

"Do you want...to come with me...to uhm....to buy you some boots and I can uh....show uh....show you the animals?" You face palm for him.

"That's sweet, sure, that sounds nice," she was happy to go along and as excited as he was, she loved animals.

----you and Namjoon at Tae's house-------

"That's cute, it's good that Tae is finally going for it with someone. I was starting to worry that he's never crushed on anyone before," Namjoon chuckles.

"For real though! I'm so proud but our little boy is growing up, now I'm sad," you stomp and come over to him, hugging his torso to lay your forehead on his chest like a melodramatic distraught wife who was experiencing empty nest syndrome. The action was nothing out of the ordinary. He laughs and pats your hair, "it's okay, we can have s'mores, how about that?" "Oo~ I feel better," the two of you grab the graham crackers and marshmallows but Tae didn't have the sticks or the chocolate so you run to the store for them and come back. Namjoon starts the bonfire then you two get cozy and start eating the s'mores without the other two in Tae's pasture.

"Naa~," Your melted chocolate and marshmallow delight cracker sandwhich is taken away from you. "Hey!"

"Hey! Bad Cleo! Bad Cleopatra! You can't take your aunt's s'mores!" Namjoon scolds the pony. "Now, tell her you're sorry young man," he throws his hands on his hips in a sassy manner which makes you almost fall over laughing. The pony rubs his head against you as a apology. "It's okay baby, I forgive my favorite nephew," you pet his nose and kiss it and he trots away to go to his mother. Namjoon laughs and sits back beside you, looking at them. "Mable is getting old......," you both knew what he meant by that. "Yeah...., I know." "Think Tae will be okay....?" "Let's hope so....."

---Taeyhung and Jeff-----

"What size do you wear?" Tae asks, he insisted on opening his truck door for her, and the store's door. He bought her a pair of boots and gloves before taking her out to your place. "I'll show you Y/N's first, then mine"

"This is Mary Lou and her new calf, she hasn't named her yet," he watches her happily pet them then takes her to your horses, "this is Cortney and Karen," after you've gotten to know them all he shows you all around before taking you home.

"I have horses too, well I have a horse and a pony," he takes you out back.

"Oh, they started without us, I won't let you miss the s'mores," he promises. "Cleo! Mable!" Cleo comes to them and she happily plays with him for a moment before Mable finally gets there and she pets the old horse.

-----

The night is spent enjoying s'mores and getting to know each other by the fire.

Authors Note: This may have a chapter two

#bts namjoon #namjoon fanfic #namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim taeyhung #bts fic #bts

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rogue-barnes-16 · 5 years

Text

WHEN YOU COME BACK (part II/II)

Summary: After months of being friends with benefits, the dangerous agreement backfires and Bucky’s feelings for Y/n are exposed. Instead of talking it out, they make the situation worse, and it might get more difficult after a dangerous mission.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Genre: angst w/ a pleasant ending

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, injuries

A/N: here it is my dudes. It was, for some reason I can't understand, heavily inspired by When the party's over by Billie Eilish, Haunted by Melanie Martinez, and What about us by P!nk. Just a little curiosity for y'all, hope you enjoy <3.

Part I

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

That night that we accidentally found each other in a shitty bar on our way out of Stark's house after Tony and Natasha's funeral, we shouldn't have lost control.

We wouldn't be in this situation, maybe I would haven't fallen that hard for him, and maybe he wouldn't think he loves me now.

We probably would be friends, close friends, or at least regular people who don't have to hide that they're sleeping with each other.

"Hey there, stranger." his voice was broken. He stumbled to the booth I was occupying, and I realized he was somehow as drunk as me. "rough week?"

"rough five years." I corrected him, sniffing. "It doesn't seem to get better." I felt the lump in my throat mixed with my hoarse voice as I chucked another shot of tequila. When I looked up at him, I noticed how red her eyes were. "what's wrong?"

"A lot." he replied, easing his position to rest against the backrest of the booth. "Never got to tell Natalia I remember." he shrugged. "Also wanted to... Apologize to Stark. Didn't get the chance to." he shut his eyes.

"Somethin' else." I stated more than questioned. "it's somethin' else."

He hesitated before looking at me with glassy eyes "can I tell you a secret?" I nodded lazily, muttering an 'always'. "Steve's leaving."

"What?" I frowned, sitting upright. "Where?"

He shook his head no with a sad smile in his face, a sad smile that held little happiness and too much sorrow. "When, not where."

"Director Carter..." I spoke in low voice, and Bucky nodded at me. I looked down, not knowing what to say. "at least he's got his happy ending."

"Yeah." tears streamed down his face as he drank from what I recognized as Thor's flask. "I'm happy for him." I tilted my head in disbelief and he denied slowly. "I really am."

"It's just the two of us now, Bucky." I whispered leaning against the wall to face him. "you should be selfish once in a while" I advised, scooting closer to him. "say what you think, no matter who gets hurt." our thighs were brushing as I leaned on him a little too close to whisper something in his ear. "you don't owe anything to this fucked up world."

His head spun and our eyes met. "I don't." he affirmed, letting his hand drop to my thigh as mines traveled to his hair. "you don't either." he bit his lip and I sighed. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

"what...?" I questioned quietly, too focused on his lips to even process what he was saying.

"Allow yourself to cry for 'em doll." his mutter made me let out a strained, shaky breath, remembering why I had hidden in a bar in order to numb my pain, remembering why I hadn't stayed with the rest in Pepper's house. "It's just the two of us now, Y/n..."

I looked up at him through glassy, blurred eyes just to see his in the same state. His eyes flickered to my lips, just like mines had been staring St him that whole time, and something took over the both of us.

It was probably the sadness, at least partially, and the thinking that losing more wasn't possible anymore, what made us close the gap in a sloppy, needy kiss, which would be the first of many, that night and the followings.

I had desperately wanted to apologize to Bucky for two days, in hopes of getting our friendship back.

I figured he didn't inform me he was back because he didn't want to see me, and that mere thought made my heart shrink until it physically hurt.

I was getting dressed when my phone buzzed. "Sam?" I called him, utterly confused. Sam rarely phoned me, he would just show up at my door. "what's wrong?"

"The mission went wrong. So fucking wrong." I couldn't ask about Bucky before he resumed his narration. "Listen to me carefully, 'cause he made me promise I wouldn't tell you shit."

"what- why?" I inquired, sitting down in my couch.

"Those fuckers were shooting me, there was no way I could dodge all of 'em, and that dumbass jumped in fucking front of me." his voice was strained due to the anger and the worry, and I felt my heart pounding against my chest. "he received two bullets. He's in the Avengers' private hospital. Pepper got us in."

"he what..." I was already grabbing my things to rush there, but he spoke again.

"you can't come, he'll kill me if he sees you here." Sam pointed out.

"why the fuck are you telling me then, Wilson?" it was desperate, and it was shaky, but I managed to get that question put of me without breaking.

"What the hell? 'Cause you're good for him, and I don't want you to think he dumped whatever you guys have." I stood there, my mouth in agape at his words. "Sharon's telling me she'll take care of the paperwork so we can go home in a couple of days."

"okay..."

"Go see him at his apartment on... Monday." he advised me. "at 9 pm, he won't have an excuse to avoid you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the fact that he knew I would definitely not forget about the day and the time he had told me, on Sunday Sam called to remind me it, and also to inform me that he had just left Bucky’s apartment. He was now there resting, and would be until tomorrow morning.

On Monday, at 9 pm I was carefully knocking on Bucky’s door, and he answered in no time.

"Sam, you better bring Chinese food you promised or-" he stood there, resting all his weight against the door and the door frame, taking in the fact that I was there. "Fuck..."

I had planned a whole speech, apologizing for what I had said in a thousand different ways, telling him how much I didn't want to lose him, and maybe, just maybe, confessing my feelings about him.

But everything was gone the moment I saw his bruises, his bandaged body under the tee, peeking out of the collar, the way he barely could stand upright.

Everything was gone. "what the fuck..."

"he told you, didn't he?" I couldn't even look at him in the eye, but I just knew he didn't either, just by how hurt and tired his voice sounded. "that's why you're here."

"I—"

"I'm fine Y/n..." he assured me, bitterness fading from his voice the second he started to sympathize with how I must be feeling, the second he imagined the situation reverted. The way guilt and fear most likely would have been killing him slowly. "I just need a few days to heal... You don't need to—"

He gasped when I my arms embraced him almost desperately as I tried to convince myself that I wouldn't lose him. "I swear on my fuckin' life, Barnes—" I choked on my words and he wrapped his arms around me not without closing the door to rest his back against it. "don't do this to me alright?" he took a deep breath with his nose buried on my crown as his thumbs caressed both my back and my shoulder. "don't-- I can't lose you... Not you-- please not you."

I didn't realize I was sobbing until I didn't feel my tears on his shirt. "You won't" ha assured me, trying to keep his voice uniform for me not to notice that he was crying too. "I'll heal soon, don't worry." his breath was sharp as he squeezed my body against him, despite the pain that he most probably was feeling. "I got you."

I pulled away when my hands accidentally sneak under his shirt and felt the bandages. "you gotta lay down."

"yeah, you're probably right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"If you're here to apologize 'cause you feel guilty or bad... Don't." he requested, looking up at me from my lap. "you really don't need to." his voice slowly started to drop when I ran my hands through his hair. "It was my fault... I shouldn't have... Said..."

"I love you."

"yeah."

"No, Bucky." I stopped my motions and looked at him dead in the eye. "I love you. I have done for a long time." he was quiet. "When you said... I really didn't wanna believe it... I don't know I just—" I sighed, shutting my eyes and leaning against the backrest. "I don't-- I don't wanna lose more people that I love and if I didn't say it out loud, I felt-" I took a deep breath, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. "I felt like I wouldn't lose--"

I didn't even feel when he had propped himself up to reach me, I only felt his velvety soft lips against mine in the most loving, sweet kiss I had ever had.

"I get it, but we... We gotta be brave." he stated, laying down again with a wince, gazing into my now open eyes. "we don't have regular lives... And I didn't wanna say it out loud either but... I- I needed you to know." I nodded, letting my fingers ran through his short hair once more. "I don't wanna lose you, but let's be honest, that possibility exist, and..." his voice started to drop again, slowly being lulled by my touch. "I'd rather having you know how much... How much you mean to me... Than regretting not... Tellin' ya all my life..."

"You're right." I replied, leaning over to peek his lips, and then his forehead. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted... I really, really am." my thumb rubbed lazily his forehead as my eyes observed him with the love I finally was able to disclose.

"Y/n." I hummed. "lay down with me, please." he requested, lifting for my to move my legs. "I wanna hug you again." I complied without hesitation, being careful not to hurt him. "I love you." He whispered in my ear, pulling me up to rest half of my body over him.

"I love you too."

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes angst #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes masterlist #The Winter Soldier x reader #The Winter Soldier fic #The Winter Soldier x you #Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff #Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes x Sam Wilson #F&tws #Marvel fic #The white wolf x reader #The Winter Soldier smut #Marvel imagine #When you come back

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Buster & Rio

Buster: Breakfast? Rio: What's on the menu? Buster: All sorts by the looks Buster: I can't take no credit, like, it's all the girl from last night's doing Rio: At least you were honest Rio: but I'll stay here then Buster: At least come and grab a plate for them Buster: There's shit loads Rio: Just save some Rio: I'm not dealing with the second-hand embarrassment of your morning-after Buster: She's not that bad Buster: And she's not staying long Rio: Bit weird Rio: and trust, she'd rather I didn't Buster: Only 'cause you're making it like that Buster: Don't Buster: Come and eat Rio: Was only next door, you know Rio: not dying to put a face to the voice Rio: 😶 Buster: Suit yourself Buster: Not sorry one of us had a good night Buster: And especially that it was me Rio: Fuck off Rio: don't gloat Rio: not room in the bed for 4 Buster: Shame Buster: Plenty of room in here Rio: Shut up or I'll send them down Rio: swarm of locusts would be preferable Buster: Not much of a threat when it solves my problem Buster: Couldn't get rid of this girl any faster myself Rio: thought she weren't that bad Buster: Doesn't mean I want her getting comfortable Buster: You ain't that bad some of the time but still fuck me off Rio: 😂 Rio: Doubt she's bought her toothbrush, babe Buster: She doesn't need to in order to outstay her welcome, believe me Rio: Dickhead Rio: let her finish her breakfast first, at least Buster: why should I? Buster: Didn't ask her to make it and she got what she really came for Rio: She still did though Rio: Roll with the punches, kid Buster: Says you hiding under the bed covers Buster: I already said my thanks Rio: What have I got to thank her for?! Buster: Breakfast, if I've gotta Rio: I see what you're trying to do Rio: but I'm not scaring her off for you Rio: perfectly capable yourself Buster: And you reckon you're the polite one Rio: I didn't fuck her Rio: not my problem, or responsibility Buster: Dramatic Rio: says you Rio: wanting to make this into a full cast production Rio: poor girl Buster: I was just trying to give you some fucking pancakes or whatever Rio: some fucking pancakes Rio: 😂 Buster: Shut up Rio: You're funny Buster: Obviously Buster: Got many talents Rio: Spare me the list Rio: barely opened my eyes here Buster: Coffee's on Rio: 👍 Rio: you owe me bed delivery Buster: Do I have to fetch and carry for them as well? Rio: they aren't awake but waft some fucking pancakes under their noses and they'll love you forever Buster: I don't owe you that big Buster: In fact, you owe me for last night's heroics. Becoming a habit for you, ain't it Rio: Technically, Edie owes you Rio: take it up with her, like Buster: I told you, I didn't do it for her Rio: Reckon it's more of a habit for you to offer up your services then Rio: but fine, what you want? Buster: I'll think about it Rio: You can have a bonus on the cab money Buster: I don't need that Rio: What do you need? Rio: Already know your silverware's stocked Buster: No rush is there, you don't have anywhere to be until this girl leaves Rio: Would be shaming for you and her if we beat her to the door, yeah Rio: up your game Buster: Enjoy your coffee, babe Buster: You know I don't feel shame Rio: Evidently not Buster: You've got it covered for us both though, like Rio: You what? Buster: You can come out now Buster: She's gone Buster: Stop cringing Rio: That's different Rio: Not my shame to own Buster: There's no shame for none of us to own Rio: You reckon? Buster: Yeah Rio: She's walking it rn Buster: Says you Buster: She's going home happy Rio: You let her take a doggy bag? Rio: Thoughtful Buster: Fuck off Rio: Chill Buster: Chill yourself Buster: Back on the judgement this early Rio: I ain't judging her Rio: empathizing Buster: Whatever Buster: Don't compare me to the cunts you hook up with, cheers Rio: How do you know they're cunts Buster: It doesn't take a genius Rio: Fuck off Rio: and I'm being judgy Buster: Not fun being on the receiving end, is it? Rio: Whatever Rio: Didn't call out your taste Buster: Only 'cause you know it's decent Rio: Decent and expensive aren't always mutually exclusive Buster: I know Rio: Made it to Sunday Rio: got any sins to confess? Buster: Not yet Buster: Still early enough Rio: That's the spirit Rio: Just glad I'm going back with both of 'em and nothing too horrific to hide from the parentals Buster: You're welcome Rio: Claiming that win as entirely your own are you? Buster: As good as Buster: What good were you, like Rio: Ha Rio: you'd have found out if I weren't here Rio: welcome from the drama I saved you from, wanker Buster: Yeah yeah Rio: 🙄 Buster: What you doing today besides giving me grief? Rio: Nothing Rio: Just chillin' 'til we leave Rio: what're you up to? Buster: Football Buster: Come and cheer me on if you want, I know you love it Rio: Ha Rio: Idk, is any of your team fit? Buster: Only the captain Rio: Unless you're coming out and this is the love story of the century Rio: shut up Rio: Indie'd be about it though so why not, time to kill Buster: Alright Buster: Try not to let the enthusiasm go to my head Rio: If you wanted a WAG reckon you just let her leave 🤷 Buster: You're really gutted she's gone, aren't you? I'll give you her number Rio: Funny Rio: as if you've got it saved Buster: Fair Buster: Can't deny that Rio: Mhmm Rio: got your number, McKenna Buster: You wish, babe Buster: No need to go that far Rio: Deny it all you want Rio: 1-0 to me Buster: How do you reckon you scored? Rio: Being generous and just counting from the numbers bit Rio: we know there's been plenty more before but don't reckon you was on top of your game so Buster: Always at the top of my game Rio: Good to know Buster: Didn't see that one coming, with all your insider knowledge? Rio: Had my suspicions but consider it a free kick or whatever Buster: 'Course you did Rio: You can't be surprised? Buster: Nothing surprising about you, babe Buster: I know what I'm getting Rio: Fuck off Rio: Call you basic ONE time Rio: let it go 😏 Buster: Who's gonna make me, you? Buster: Like to see it Rio: I know you would Buster: Scaredy-cat Rio: Nah Buster: Sounds like it Rio: Dunno what you're hearing then Rio: Not me Buster: Prove it Rio: Alright Rio: How? Buster: You tell me Buster: You're the one bossing me about like Buster: Thinking you can tell me anything Rio: Clearly love it Rio: Given you the chance to take control and you've chickened out Buster: 'Cause you're not ready for it, babe Rio: You reckon? Buster: I know Buster: Been giving you chances since you got here Rio: You're crazy Buster: You reckon? Rio: not 100% on that one Buster: At least you're admitting that Rio: Only fair Rio: as you went first there Buster: 😇 Rio: Bit late for that 😂 Buster: Stop trying to get me to church, I see you Rio: You need Jesus! Buster: He needs me Buster: I'm good Rio: Sure he wants you on his team Rio: Idiot 😏 Buster: Who could fill pews faster? Buster: Got girls praying I'll look their way as is Rio: I'm ignoring you now Rio: That's blasphemy and bullshit Buster: Can you? Buster: Good luck Rio: Easy Buster: Go on then Rio: I'm coming down to get food Buster: Need an excuse already Buster: You're shit at this Rio: No, I'm telling you so you vacate Buster: Why would I make it that easy, you've got that covered, so you reckon Buster: I won't even be a distraction like, you're that good at ignoring me, yeah? Rio: I don't need you staring at me Rio: creeper Buster: Just want Rio: Obviously not or I woulda asked you to stay Buster: Obviously you're trying to save face 'cause you couldn't ignore me if you tried Rio: Eurgh Rio: Can't say I didn't try and warn you Rio: I look like hell so enjoy 🖕 Buster: Relax, I'm going Buster: Don't need to see the state of you Rio: Thanks Buster: Purely selfish act Buster: Trying to keep my breakfast down Rio: Changed your tune Buster: She's gone now I can admit it tasted alright Rio: Funny Buster: Accurate Rio: You chat such a load of shite Buster: Should be easy to ignore then Buster: Step your game up, babe Rio: Polite, ain't I Rio: and you're loud, so Buster: More fool you Buster: And none of you are giving me peace & quiet, thanks Rio: You want me to ignore you? Rio: Come tomorrow, wish granted, like Buster: Thank Christ Buster: Can't come soon enough Rio: You and your heroics Rio: Gotta stop offering, like Rio: Learnt your lesson? Buster: I can't help how desperate you are Buster: Gotta sort that yourself Rio: Please Rio: Had it all handled Buster: Nah Buster: You're chatting shite now Rio: Never know now Rio: Hypothetical, init Buster: All I know is you can say please to me next time Rio: Already thinking 'bout the next time Rio: who's desperate? Buster: Gotta Buster: I know what you're like Rio: No gotta about it, boy Buster: Says you Buster: I'm not that cunt Rio: I am? Rio: Charmer Buster: I never said that Buster: I'm just saying I'm not sorry for giving a shit when you come to me needing it Rio: Okay Buster: You sure about that or you wanna take the piss some more? Rio: I weren't Rio: just defending myself Buster: Whatever Rio: It ain't Rio: but you know, IOU Rio: good on my word, whatever you think Buster: Easy to say when I haven't asked for anything yet Rio: Yeah Rio: Try me Buster: When I know what I want, I will Rio: Cool Rio: Know where I am Buster: Yeah

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zehturtle · 7 years

Photo

Fanime experience, merch, autographs, and more. Quick info blurbs if you click on the images!

Quick and wordy thoughts of the event after the jump. (Warning there’s a lot)

Quick takes: -I had a good time. -Spent too much money. -Met some great artists/people. -Missed out on a few autographs/merch(notably Shigeto Koyama & Hiroyasu Kobayashi...). -Cons aren’t really what they used to be for me anymore. -Sorry I missed a few names for recognition.

Long takes/thoughts:

Overall I had a pretty good time. I usually just go with one of my old friends I’ve known since forever and almost only see maybe once or twice a year due to various reasons. Fanime has sort of become an annual trip now, possibly, maybe. We did discuss it after going this time around since it’s our I think 3rd or 4th time. If it does become our annual trip it’ll be interesting once I talk about other stuff later. It’s hard to describe since I enjoyed my time there due to hanging out with my friend and then other friends who came along after so the day was good but the convention itself I’ve got some mixed feelings about.

I went there mainly to hang out with my friend and going there I figured I’d be spending money since when I go I tend to try to support artists I like or just when I find something I find interesting. I told myself, “I’ll only spend up to this much but I probably shouldn’t” and then ended up spending it all anyways with the only thing stopping me from spending more was the fact that the vendor’s hall and artist’s alley closing which was both a blessing and a curse! Also later on in the day my friend’s brother and his friends also joined up for more shenanigans. Bought lots of merch as you can see posted today, play or watched a few of them play some video games, went out for some food late at night, and had some good conversations before, during, and after the event.

Some things I found for the first time at the convention in the vendor’s hall at a booth were animation cels from various old school shows! There was Ranma animation cels, Ronin Warriors, Tenchi Muyo, Macross, and a bunch of others. I was totally surprised and it was one of the things I found early on that I wanted to come back through after we went and explored the event first, but sadly I ended up missing out on because of waiting in line for autographs that I didn’t even end up getting. T_T I also missed out on some prints for the same reason as the animation cels and because I did the wait and see, go browse everything then come back for it later which gotten sold out. That’s entirely on me though and realistically not that big of a deal since I have so many posters I’ve no clue what to even do with them at this point.

So, thanks to all the artist who talked to me, signed my sketchbook, or that I bought merch from. For the most part I don’t think I had any problems with anyone other than a little too shy to their customers but that’s a typical occurrence. I know some didn’t seem very enthusiastic about signing my sketchbook so for that I’m grateful that they were still willing to do so. It’s always a bit of a tough deal because I know sometimes people don’t want to do it and I do make it a point to say they have to sign it at all but I understand that feels like added pressure too. I’m just honestly a fan and like to collect things from people I find of some interest in. One could argue I’ve become a bit of a hoarder because of that but that’s something for another time. There’s a few notables that I met and had a good to sizable conversation with at the con, and even more surprising was how long I had one with someone who was super busy manning their own booth. I did feel bad but he kept telling me it was ok. I hope I do meet him again in the future be it at another convention or just outside.

On to the not so great part(s). I was waiting in line for the Shigeto Koyama & Hiroyasu Kobayashi ‘s autograph session but sadly it was cut off before I could get there. About 2/3 of the way through, which was about 45-50min into the session they had decided that doing both drawings and signings at the same time was too time consuming so the staff announced that they had to cut off the drawing portion and see if they could get to everyone. At the time only maybe about 10-15 people got to meet the both of them, and then only about another 10-15 people got only autographs at the time. The thing that I was a little upset about was that the time for only signatures portion wasn’t that much different from people who got drawings and signatures. I thought to myself once it was announced that we’d only get signatures, “well at least it’ll be going faster since it’s just signatures” but then I don’t know what went wrong. I don’t get it, were the ones that went in for only signatures allowed to talk to them for nearly the same amount of time as those before who got drawings to go with the signatures? I’ve no clue and I couldn’t tell either because the line was blocked off by a wall to the signing so you had to walk passed the wall to go into the signing section and since I was in line I couldn’t check it out. It killed 1hr-1hr30min and around that time it was close to closing time for vendors and artist alley. That was probably the worst part of the adventure since I was really anticipating this autograph session. It’s fine though, can’t win them all.

Now onto probably a bit of something else a tad more negative. The event itself was kind of lack luster and felt kind of like just a straight up cash grab. There wasn’t anything spectacular on Sunday going on that you wouldn’t really see anywhere else. To be more clear on that point, I meant there wasn’t anything over the top or anything that stood out like “Ah, this is why you should have gone this year or you don’t want to miss out on this.”. It felt kind of watered down to me as honestly a lot of conventions have been recently, at least to me. It’s great to meet artists, it’s great to go to panels, vendors, etc., but I felt the vibe wasn’t there that would have made this one this year really special. I know after you’ve gone to a few it can start to feel like more of the same o’l, but isn’t part of the point of these events to make them memorable and exciting? I can go on about this a lot deeper but I’m just going to leave it at that for now. I’m a little disappointed as far as how the event itself was, but I still enjoyed the people I met and the things I got. It might sound completely weird to some for me to say that at the same time, almost hypocritical but it honestly felt like the effort to make it a show was not there. This is just my opinion so anyone out there that went and would say otherwise I’m ok with that.

I gotta apologize to the artists that I missed giving credit to who signed my sketchbook. Yesterday was a long but eventful day and I truly do appreciate everyone who signed the sketchbook. Next time around I’ll keep better track of everyone. Til next time!

I know there was a significant portion of this post that was ranting but I honestly had a good time and I’m glad to have been able to go with my friend and others who met up with us later on in the day. Also it was great to see and talk to everyone I met. Thanks for anyone who read this far!

#text post #long text post #fanime #artist alley #convention #autograph session

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