#thank you so much for your suggestion!! idk if this was what you were expecting but its where my mind ended up

[btsgotjams27]

the back-up plan | jjk

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

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

sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You 11:28 PM 😭😭😭

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

You 11:29 PM It’s Bonner, not boner!

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

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

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

“What do you want, Kook?”

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

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

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

"Bye–Kook."

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

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

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

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

💖💖💖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so dumb.”

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

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

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

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

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

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

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

💖💖💖

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

Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.

“Just saying,” he adds.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s not going to let this go, is he?

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

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

“Deal.”

💖💖💖

monday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Top left above the sink,” you say.

He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s cute, you think.

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

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

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

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

“Right side next to the oven.”

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

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

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

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

💖💖💖

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”

He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re into rom-coms?”

“I love ‘em.”

“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles, not saying a word.

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

💖💖💖

tuesday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, this is bad. Really bad.

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

“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

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

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

💖💖💖

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

You 11:30 AM Sounds like a date.

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

You 11:36 AM That sounds perfect.

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

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

"Ready for movie night?"

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

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

"Yeah, kind of."

"Come here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s cute.”

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

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

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

“No tattoos?”

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

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

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

“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”

He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”

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

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

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

“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wednesday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit—maybe he had company over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.

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

“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an art curator.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

KooKoo-Ca-Choo Incoming Video Call

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How'd it turn out?"

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

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

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

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

He wants to do everything with you, huh?

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

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

"Cool guy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh–I like that idea."

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

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

Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.

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

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

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

You hum in agreement. “Night.”

“Night.”

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

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

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

thursday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t handle a little torture?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”

You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”

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

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

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

“So, you’re okay if I see him?”

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

“Are you upset with me?”

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

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

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

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

Is he serious about this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know it sounds ridiculous!”

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

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

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

Decisions. Decisions.

friday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum. “See you soon.”

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

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

“Yeah,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

When the door shuts, you wince.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ frida castelli, milan ]

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

Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”

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

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

“I like that position too,” he adds.

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

"Should we keep looking?"

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

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

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

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

You nod.

"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do that again,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he could be the one.

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

You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.

saturday.

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

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

It’s Jungkook.

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

You shake your head no.

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

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

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

“Bonner,” you correct her.

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

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

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

Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.

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

She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remember Jimin and Theo?”

Hoseok hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s the birthday girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Surprise me,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Two Pink Cadillacs."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon gulps.

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

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

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

“What conversation?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”

Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.

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

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

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

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, about us.”

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sunday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three knocks strike your door. No answer.

He gives it another moment before doing it again.

And nothing.

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

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

Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Jungkook?”

He turns back and hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Two years.”

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

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.

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

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

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

"What's that?"

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

You lower your head. "Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How would you get out of this mess?

monday.

A notification ding shows up on your phone.

[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]

Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.

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

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

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

“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.

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

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See anything else you like?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was it dedication or delusion?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost done,” Kai notes.

That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.

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

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

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

“It looks beautiful on you.”

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

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

“Jungkook already paid,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You zig-zag around him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If you were mine?"

You hum.

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

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

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

Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

Maybe you should offer him some.

“Then don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened. “You knew?”

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

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

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

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

You deadpan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nina-ya]

Can I request Zoro, Kid, and Law (separately) where their respective crew are going to like (whether it be for a mission or just for fun), a fancy event where they need to dress up, and the dress is like dressed up, and is so pretty, that the boys can’t resist and doesn’t stop kissing them? Idk, I thought it’d be cute and I love needy men who are so in love with their partner lol

One Piece Men Being Needy (Zoro, Kid, and Law)

Pairings: Zoro x reader, Kid x reader, Law x reader (all separate) CW: Suggestive content. A lot of implied sex. Just,,,... i fear i wrote this with nothing but sinful thoughts in mind HAHADJK WC: ~1.9k total A/N: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO THIS BUT I AM HERE HI!! This was on my mind for much longer than i would ever admit so anon i greatly thank you for letting me write about them in this context hugs and kisses to you <3

You never expected such a simple choice in attire to stir such a reaction from Zoro. His intense gaze did not leave you the moment you stepped foot off the ship, dressed to the nines for the banquet. 

Throughout the evening, Zoro could not keep his hands off of you. Whether it was a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you close to his side, or a sly touch under the table, he seemed off tonight. And the kisses, oh, the kisses were something else. More frequent than usual, each one leaving you wanting more.

What really caught you off guard was when he pulled you onto his lap, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. 

“Zoro,” you whispered, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you felt his own lips planting kisses along your exposed neck and shoulder, “what’s gotten into you tonight?”

He smiled against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist as he murmured back, “Just couldn’t resist.”

You tilted your head to make eye contact with him, “Well, I’m not complaining,” you teased, reaching up to briefly run your hand through his hair. 

Zoro’s smile widened at your playful response, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter just as fast as the day you first met him. “Glad to hear it,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. The two of you were lost in your own little world, focusing on the feeling of your lips against each other as the banquet faded in the background. 

But moments like these can’t last forever, and your attention was pulled to a familiar voice calling your names. You glanced over to see Nami approaching, a sly smile on her face as she caught the sight of the two of you. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. "Sucking each other's faces off, are we?"

You and Zoro quickly pulled apart, though the warmth of his embrace lingered on your skin. "Nami!" you exclaimed, feeling a rush of embarrassment heat up your cheeks.

Zoro just grunted in response, avoiding eye contact with Nami. If you looked closely, you could point out the smallest hint of redness creeping up onto his cheeks.

Nami chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you both. "It’s not like you’re really hiding it well," she said with a laugh before turning to head back to the dance floor. 

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed at Nami’s teasing, letting out a nervous laugh as she walked away. Zoro seemed amused by the whole situation, and went right back to planting kisses down your neck. His trail of kisses made their way up to your ear when he muttered into your ear, “She’s right. We are kind of making this obvious. Why don’t we cut this short and head back to the ship?” - - -

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when the door behind you swung open, pulling you out of your concentration. You shifted your attention in the mirror to see Kid standing in the doorway, dressed in a more formal attire for the night's events. 

He strolled into the room, walking up behind you snaking his arms around your waist as he admired you through the mirror. “You look gorgeous.” He commented, planting a kiss against your temple. He looked down and his eyes focused on the lipstick in your hand and a smirk played on his lips. “Is that mine?” he asked.

You hummed in response as you cleaned up one of the edges. “This looked like the perfect shade,” you pulled back from the mirror and tilted your head to admire your makeup, “and it seems like I was right.” 

Kid's smirk widened as he watched you, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, I suppose you have good taste," he teased, reaching out to take the lipstick from your hand. "But you know the rules, sweetheart. You gotta pay a price to borrow that."

Before you could protest, Kid leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. His lips were warm against yours, but just as quickly as it began, Kid pulled back, a smirk spreading across his face as you both took in the sight of your lipstick smeared at the edges.

You scolded Kid, lightly shoving his arm as you reached for your makeup remover. "You're going to make us late!" you exclaimed, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice as you dabbed at the smudged lipstick.

Kid chuckled, his arms still wrapped around your waist as he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving another mark in the process. "Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We've got plenty of time."

As you worked to fix your makeup, Kid's hands roamed over your waist and shoulders, his touch light and affectionate as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving more of a mess for you to clean up. "You know," he said, his voice low and husky, “you should dress like this more often. You look absolutely beautiful."

You couldn't help but enjoy the compliments he’s throwing your way along with the feeling of his large hands tracing your body, giving squeezes ever so often. "Are you trying to flatter me?" you teased, glancing at him through the mirror. 

You could feel Kid's lips curl into a playful smirk against your skin as he responded "Is it working?" he murmured, looking up to lock eyes with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "Because I have a proposition for you."

Your heart was already jumping out of your chest and yet it managed to beat just a bit faster as your curiosity heightened by his words. "Oh? And what might that be?" you asked, unable to hide the anticipation in your voice.

His hands trailed lower, fingers brushing over the curve of your hips as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You know, we don't have to go to the event," he suggested, his voice laced with desire. "We don’t have to go out. We could stay right here. "

Excitement bubbled in your stomach at his suggestion. You placed down the items in your hand and turned around, draping your arms over his shoulders, leaning in., "And what exactly did you have in mind that we do?" you teased, your own voice lust laden.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” he murmured. With a sly grin, Kid's hands moved under your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the counter behind you. He closed the distance between you two, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving you absolutely breathless. He pulled your body against his and your hands threaded through his hair as you relished in the feelings. Yeah, you guys are not making it to that event. - - - Golden eyes fixated on you from across the room, the orbs drinking in every movement you made, every breath you took, every word you spoke as you effortlessly mingled with the other guests at the lavish gala that you had to attend for a mission. How was Law expected to focus when you looked utterly captivating? The moment you emerged from the cramped confines of the Polar Tangs’ bathroom, adorned in that breathtaking dress, he knew he was spellbound. The mission, albeit important, paled in comparison to the magnetic pull you seemed to have.

Gathering intelligence on the enemy crew’s whereabouts seemed a trivial task to Law compared to the challenge of tearing his gaze away from you. You charmed the guests around you, soft laughter spilling from your lips as you feign interest in their rather vacuous jokes. It all seemed so effortless to you. As if in a trance, Law found himself setting down his champagne glass on the nearest counter, his feet making unconscious strides drawing him in your direction. 

You stole a glance in his direction and noticed Law drawing nearer, seemingly with an urgent thought on his mind. The other guests, too, couldn’t help but notice his presence, their curiosity heightened by his sudden intrusion into your conversation.

“Excuse us for a moment,” Law simply said, his voice low, yet resolute as he grabbed your hand and led you away from the crowd. He offered a quick apology to the guests you were engaged in a conversation with, and you allowed yourself to be guided by him, confusion and anticipation filling you as you were whisked away.

He guided you with purpose, turning corner after corner until you reached a seemingly secluded area. You opened your mouth to speak, but before a single word could escape, his lips crashed against yours in an urgent kiss. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss with such an intensity that you couldn’t even process what was going on. His lips were warm and insistent against yours, and you melted into his embrace.

Lost in the intoxicating feelings of the kiss, you forgot about the world around you, the mission being pushed in the depths of your mind as you are consumed by the sensation of Laws’s lips against yours. But just as quickly as it began, Law reluctantly pulled back, your ragged breaths mingling with each other as he gazed deeply into your eyes. “I just couldn’t resist,” he confessed, his voice filled with need, each word charged with an undeniable desire. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.” 

“Law,” you began, your words breathy as you recovered from the previous kiss, “the mission, we need to get back to- mph!” He silenced you with another kiss. The way his lips moved against yours threatened to consume you entirely before you lightly pushed on his chest to separate the two of you. 

“Don’t worry about the mission.” he muttered, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before continuing, “I’ve got the information we need.” His words were accompanied by the rapid thumping of his heart against your palm, mirroring the frantic beat of your own. “You look just so,” he started planting wet kisses down your neck as his hands danced down the sides of your body, pulling a small gasp from you as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. As his lips made their way back up to your ear, he finished his thought, “enchanting. You just look utterly enchanting, and I would like to  take advantage of this.” You could practically hear the smirk in his words while he guided you backwards until your back made contact with the wall behind you. Law was certainly going to make it clear that nothing else mattered in that moment except the two of you.

#nina writes~✦ #nina responds~✦ #one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #zoro x reader #zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece zoro #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid #kid x reader #x reader

[inuyashaluver]

Hi!!! How are things? Idk if you saw the picture of Leah in the black pinstripe suit… suffice to say I’ve been having thoughts… and a request pinged through my mind: Leah meeting reader while wearing the suit (first time meeting; connection at first glance) and Leah stays by reader’s side throughout the evening. Heavy flirting, touchy, more dominant bf Leah who brings reader into her arms (basically takes control😩) and suring conti cup celebrations, Leah sees reader wearing her suit jacket and gets cocky. I’m thinking reader is the mysterious hot babe who everyone is wondering about

Love your work and thank you for the Jenni and Misa fics❤️❤️

suit and tie - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which a pretty blonde steals your heart with her suit and tie

warnings: flirty, flirty, flirty, swearing, suggestive

a/n: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP - you guys can’t expect me to react normally about this picture, come on! thank you for the love, gorgeous, enjoyyyyy xx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and leah never believed in love at first sight until you both laid eyes on each other. the instant attraction was obvious for the both of you, hence why as soon as your eyes made contact, you knew you needed to have each other.

—

leah wasn’t really much of a party person. sure, she had fun at parties, but if you were to ask her how she wanted to spend a rare saturday she had off, it most definitely was not at a party.

but because leah values loyalty, when her best friend, alex, begged her to come to a british vogue party, full of the uk’s best in 2022, who was she to decline the puppy dog eyes?

and so, with effective convincing, leah shrugged on her best suit, resisting the eye roll when her best friend assured her this party would be fantastic.

you also weren’t really much of a party person ever, but because of your field of work, you always got dragged to them.

you’re a sports journalist and interviewer. one that was extremely valued not only in the football community, but other sports also.

you took great pride in actually taking time to do your research, to know about your athletes and asked them the questions that actually mattered.

at this time, you were quite new, not really having the opportunity to meet a lot of athletes, including leah.

it took you a while to get to leah’s side of the pitch, and before you had met, you weren’t even doing anything on the field, rather being the one on the television talking about stats and predictions for the games.

—

when leah walked in the room that night, the atmosphere was bustling and she was already regretting coming.

though she held herself well, posture up right with a confident smile present as she walked through the crowds, exchanging polite conversation with familiar faces.

she found a name card with her name on it settled on a table near the back of the room, dimly lit with candlelight amongst the chatter and clinking glasses amongst the room.

she settled, adjusting her suit jacket, slightly tousling her hair in frustration at realising alex wasn’t even sitting on the table with her.

she didn’t know anyone here, about to pull out her phone until she heard a gentle “excuse me, sorry, could i just get through?” sounding from behind her, someone came up next to her and leaned forward to examine the name card next to hers.

a dizzying scent of vanilla flooded her senses, her eyes subconsciously following the smell to look up at the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life. it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

her mouth slightly hung open as she met the person’s eyes, this person being you. you were slightly shocked when you and leah made eye contact, feeling your breath hitch at how gorgeous she was.

everything in the room faded as leah looked at you, there was just something irresistible about you that leah couldn’t comprehend, she hadn’t even said a word to you yet.

after what felt like an eternity, you send a quick smile, pulling out the chair and sitting next to her, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

leah gave herself an internal pep talk, turning slightly to you, her hand extending to yours, “hi, i’m leah” she pronounces, making you look over at her with a surprised smile, a little giggle escaping your mouth, sent straight to leah’s heart which felt like was hammering out of her chest.

you place your hand in hers, shaking it gently with a charming smile, you were so nervous, the girl’s gaze not helping you at all. “(y/n)” you share, enjoying how soft her hands felt against yours,

“it’s lovely to meet you” she grins, “likewise” an electric current passed between you before you reluctantly returned your hands to your laps.

you stayed silent for a moment, before nudging her shoulder with yours softly, “did you get dragged to this as well?” you whisper, leah chuckles.

you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone in your life and you’ve just met her. leah was feeling the exact same, wanting to impress you and really hoping she doesn’t fuck this up.

“i did actually” she laughs, “don’t tell me you were as well?” she smiles at you, you nod with a grin, “indeed i was” you sigh, taking a swig of the complementary cocktail on the table, wincing when you took a sip.

“what the fuck is that?” you cough, leah looks over at you in surprise, “that bad?” she says with a laugh, watching as you take a sip of some water,

“disgusting, haven’t you tried it?” you grimace, she shakes her head, “if i had it, so do you” you demand, making the blonde laugh in disbelief.

“who made up that rule?” she challenges amusingly, you grab her glass, lifting her hand and directing her fingers over it, pressing your hand over hers for a moment and she swears her body was on fire.

“i did, drink up then, go on” you smile sweetly, leah offers you another smile, shaking her head with a little laugh before she took a little sip of the drink, matching your wince with how bad it was.

you laugh brightly at her expression, making her heart swell with pride, wanting to make you laugh like that again.

“that’s awful” she affirms, “i can’t believe you made me drink that, i thought we had something going here” she flirts, you smirk knowingly, understanding that both of you caught each other’s drift.

leah just exuded confidence, now leaning her head on her hand resting on the table, adjusting so she could face you. you offer her an amused expression, angling your body to mirror her position.

“we can suffer together?” you say cheekily, leah huffs out a laugh, “come to the bar with me?” she offers, you nod instantly, watching as she stood first, her hand held out to you.

you accepted it gratefully, letting her pull you out of your seat, and once you were upright, her hand made its way to the small of your back, directing you through the crowded room.

when you both reached the bar, she made you stand in front of her slightly in a protective nature, leaning down to speak into your ear directly,

“what would you like, gorgeous?” you swallowed the lump in your throat, telling her what you wanted and watching as she ordered for you and her without hesitation.

you turn around to face her as you both waited for the drinks to be prepared, seemingly busy. she offered you a charming smile as you met her gaze head on, feeling a little nervous at the intensity of her stare.

your eyes trail to her suit and back up to her face, apparently exposing yourself leah could clearly tell you were adorning her attire.

she silently challenges you with a cheeky grin, “you alright, pretty girl?” you return her smirk, feeling a little confident yourself, feeling comfortable with leah.

“just appreciating a good suit” you shrug, your hand extending slightly to trace the lapel of it with your finger, leah watched your movement with sharp eyes, barely breathing at your proximity.

“or maybe i’m appreciating the woman in it?” you say innocently, leah flatlined right there. she chuckled lowly, moving closer to you slightly,

“well you’re a sight for sore eyes” leah drawled, hand resting on your hip for a moment before her head nodded towards the drinks now placed on the bar behind you.

her hand seeks refuge on your lower back again, effectively weaving through the room to your seats again. leah only got rid of the contact to pull out your chair, offering you a sweet smile while she gestured you to sit.

when she sat down next to you, her chair was essentially pressed up against yours, her thigh slightly brushing yours, sending a shiver up both of your spine’s.

“so, leah, tell me about yourself” leah and you both share a little giggle, flirting shamelessly as she talked about her, you listened to her intently, she fell for you a little more at seeing you actively listening to her.

you were asking her questions to clarify when you didn’t understand, sharing your own words but not in an overbearing way, adding to the conversation in a way that made things fluid. easy. familiar.

when the blonde directed her own interrogation on you, she listened to each word with extreme focus, smiling when she’d catch your gaze, both of you somehow managing eye contact.

it was like a first date, the way you both shared parts of your lives, it certainly felt like one.

it was clear there was a spark there, the amount of things you had in common was uncanny. both of your hearts raced a little faster when you thought about where this could potentially go, you two were perfect for each other.

the air between the two of you was thickened with anticipation and attraction, the flirting making both of your stomach’s absolutely flip. there was just something so magnetising about the two of you, irresistible like a moth to a light.

her laugh was infectious and so was yours, a smile cracking between the two of you that had your cheeks hurting. each exchanged glance and playful piece of banter made the tension simmer, both of you slowly drawing each other in.

“do you want to dance?” you said with kind eyes, leah nods without hesitation, letting you drag her to the dance floor.

the two of you danced with shared giggles, lingering touches as your bodies moved together. and even though leah and you had obviously skipped multiple steps with each other, she remained respectful, not pushing any boundaries as she danced with you.

you appreciated it, appreciated her and she most definitely appreciated you. the thought of her fucking this up eating her alive and it hadn’t even happened.

“i wasn’t going to come tonight but i’m happy i did” leah said next to your ear, goosebumps rising on your skin when her breath gently grazed it. you smile at her, “me too” your hand moving to gently squeeze her bicep.

you both made way to the table once more after you both got tired, basically sitting on top of each other at this point. you continued to chat and laugh together, feeling like you’d known each other all your lives.

as the night progressed, your hands went over your arms due to a little chill suddenly being present in the room. leah was extremely observant, shrugging off her jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.

you open your mouth to protest but leah fixes you with a little glare, making you roll your eyes slightly before you let her direct your arms into the jacket, her scent making you smile as it surrounded you, more than it already was.

the party was slowly filtering out and you and leah prolonged it as much as you could until essentially getting kicked out.

she walks you out with your arm around her bicep, smiling at people as you walked past. you were both outside and gave each other slightly sad smiles, the thought of the night ending leaving a little crack in both of your hearts.

“i had a lot of fun with you tonight” you smile at her, “so did i, a lot of fun” she smiles back, her eyes trailing all over your face as you looked at each other.

“so, williamson, can i have your number?” you say cheekily, your cheeks a little pink as you asked, leah smiles fondly, nodding and fishing her phone out of her bag, prompting you to do the same. “beat me to it, cheeky”

you exchanged numbers, hands brushing against each other’s as you gave back one another’s phone.

“i have to say, you suit that jacket a lot better than me” she smirks, you shake your head, “thank you, but you’re otherworldly in this” you flirt, making her cheeks burn as she avoided your gaze for a moment.

her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek for a moment with a chuckle, taking the leap and pulling you closer so her lips were ghosting yours.

her eyes bore into yours, glancing down at your lips as her breath fanned them gently, your heart spiked, feeling incredibly warm.

your eyes flicker down at hers before she closed the gap, her lips moving softly with yours. you sigh against her as she pulls you closer by your hips, your hand gently holding the side of her neck as you kissed her.

she pulls away with a sharp breath, her breath mingling with yours as her forehead resting against yours. “let me take you out, tomorrow?” she says almost a little desperately, but you both were honestly.

“okay” you breathe out, she smiles before pressing a tender kiss to your mouth, her thumbs rubbing gently over your waist as she pulled away at arms length.

you smile at her sheepishly, her sporting her own shy smile as she looked at you. the two of you giggle again, not really believing the circumstances of kissing your dream girl and going on a date the next day.

she waits until you get picked up by your taxi, pulling you into a warm hug, the embrace soft and gentle, contrasting the insufferable flirting you’d been torturing each other with all night.

“i’ll give you back your jacket on our date” you say cheesily, leah laughs, brushing a stray hair away from your face before she cradles your cheek, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone affectionately.

she presses a parting kiss to your lips, “can’t wait, baby” she whispers against you, pecking your mouth again quickly before she ushered you to go home, not wanting you to linger out in the cold.

you texted all night, sleeping at an ungodly time but it was all worth it. leah took you on that date and you both fell in love, suddenly claiming yourselves as party people.

—

you’d now been dating for a little over two years, infatuated an understatement for your relationship. you moved in together, both of you flourishing with each other in your respective careers but also with one another.

people knew the two of you were dating, you were the definition of private but not a secret. your social media for each other was essentially a shrine.

—

it was the continental cup final, arsenal vs chelsea. you and alex were the main journalists covering the match that leah was extremely excited about.

during warm ups, she threw you a cocky grin with a wink as she saw you getting mic’d up, only growing when she realised what you were wearing.

the blazer from the night she swept you off your feet all those years ago. you wave at her when she blows you a kiss with a wave, grinning as alex teased the both of you while you both prepared.

when the final whistle blew and leah got dragged into a group hug, she bounded over to you.

“arsenal have won the continental cup!” you exclaim, feeling a body attach to you from behind, strong arms wrapped around your middle while multiple kisses were pressed to your cheeks.

you lean back into the body, already knowing it was your girlfriend’s. “leah williamson is clearly happy about the win” alex teases, making leah smile against your cheek,

her hand moves over yours holding the microphone, “very happy” she chuckles, moving to stand next to you with her hand on your hips, staying for a short interview conducted by alex.

you gave her heart eyes the whole time, buzzing with excitement to congratulate her properly off camera. if you weren’t confirmed officially with the blonde, you definitely were now.

as soon as the staff yelled ‘cut’, leah pulled you into a kiss, your arms wound around her neck as her arms went around your waist again.

“hi, gorgeous” she mumbles against your lips, “hey, champion” you grin proudly, pecking her lips a couple of times while she smiles down at you.

“congratulations, my winner” you pinch her cheek softly, she moves her head quickly to jokingly bite your finger, relishing in the giggle she elicited from you. “thank you, my girl” she winks,

“this is a nice blazer, where’d you get this?” she teases, you can’t help but smile at her, “oh, it’s my girlfriend’s” you kiss her again, her hands move to squeeze your hips.

“you look absolutely gorgeous” she breathes out, “so sweet, my love, so do you” you grin, leah smirks, “i prefer you with nothing on but that’s for my eyes only” she says lowly in your ear, you gasp and slap her shoulder lightly,

“you can’t be sweet for two seconds-” you scold, cut off with her lips against yours again in a gentle kiss, making you hum against her before you ushered her to get her medal and lift the trophy.

after the trophy was lifted, she made a quick effort to grab a bottle of champagne and chase you around with it, threatening to spray it on you. you both laugh loudly as you ran around the pitch, your hearts full of affection for each other.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you and leah’s blazer 🫠! ily alex x

liked by alexscott2 and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: double win if you ask me

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yourname: so cheesyyyyyy

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you love it

↳ yourname: do i?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh you definitely do

↳ yourname: don’t be so sure of yourself, williamson

↳ leahwilliamsonn: extremely. thin. ice.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

[theemporium]

idk if you’ve seen it but there’s a trend on TikTok of playing a voicemail of a creepy guy in front of your boyfriend and I feel like brothers bff!reader would have to literally console quinn after trying that prank on him. boy would be murderous.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

It was just meant to be a prank. 

A friend had sent you it, laughing at the compilation of reactions the video included to the fake voicemail. It was entertaining seeing how these men reacted differently, or seeing how many of them instantly became protective of the woman in their life who played the fake voicemail. 

You thought it looked fun to try out. 

It was some random week in October when you decided to fly out and spend some time with Quinn. It was reading week back in college and you had worked pretty well at staying on top of your classes, so you deserved the treat to fly out and spend some time with your boy. 

And other than the practices Quinn had to attend, he was practically glued to your side the rest of the week which made it easy to pull off the prank on a Thursday morning when you were sitting on the counter as Quinn made you both coffee. 

“Oh god.” 

“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked, his back still facing you but the disgusted scoff gave him a clear understanding that you weren’t happy. 

“Nothing, just an annoying lab partner,” you murmured, pressing your lips together to try and hold back your giggles. “I think he left me a voicemail.”

Quinn didn’t get much of a chance to say anything before the voicemail started. You watched him closely, the way his actions paused as he began to listen. 

“This is the final chance I am giving you. You are being ridiculous, and like most women, not thinking logically. Consider this your last chance to put your emotions aside and think with your brain.”

The coffee was abandoned in seconds as Quinn whirled around, looking at you with an expression mixed between shock and disgust. He placed his hands on the counter, stepping towards you as he continued to listen to the voicemail. 

“I am a good guy, one of the best you are going to find. So, I suggest you stop playing this hard-to-get game because nobody is believing you. You won’t find anyone better than me, not at college and not in bed. I have reservations for Friday night at the Italian place off campus. I expect you there and—”

“Absolutely fucking not,” Quinn gritted out between clenched teeth, a disgruntled scoff leaving his lips as he reached for his phone. “Give me a name.”

You blinked, almost surprised by the expression on his face. You didn’t think you had ever seen Quinn so angry before, not even on the ice. 

“A name,” Quinn repeated as he looked over towards you, eyes darkened and jaw clenched. “That is…he’s a fucking pervert. And a creep. I don’t want him near you. I don’t want him in the fucking college.” 

“Quinn—” you started, but he was lost to his own anger now.

“I’m gonna make sure he’s kicked out and sent somewhere far fucking away from you. Better yet, we can get a restraining order,” he continued as he scrolled through his phone, his eyebrows furrowed together as he searched for something. “I don’t want you going back with him just walking around. Does Luke even know? Does anyone—”

“Quinn,” you said again, a little louder this time as you rounded the counter to gently take ahold of his hands. You slowly pried the phone from his hands, a sheepish expression on your face. “He isn’t real.”

He frowned. “What? Babe, you don’t have to protect him—”

“I’m not protecting anyone, Quinn, I—” You took a deep breath before you continued. “It was a prank I saw on Tiktok. People were posting their partner’s reactions and I thought it would be funny.”

“Oh,” was all Quinn seemed to say.

“I’m sorry—” But you cut yourself off when he launched towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug as he clung onto you. Your arms automatically wrapped around his torso, nuzzling yourself further into his chest.

“You’d tell me if something like that was really happening, right?” Quinn murmured against the top of your head. 

“Of course,” you answered honestly.

“Good,” he said with a small sigh, his arms tightening around you. “I’d kill any fucker that makes you uncomfortable.”

You snorted. “It was kinda hot seeing you get all protective.”

“I’m glad you think as much because even though I know it’s fake, my body hasn’t caught on yet so I am not letting you go for the next hour,” Quinn murmured, though you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I have no issue with that,” you replied honestly, biting back your own grin as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

.

#quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[genacity]

Hi there 🫢

So I just had to write a letter… and I had to put it in an envelope (obvi) and it was one of those envelopes that you have to lick to seal.

Now imagine Scaramouche being ur roommate, and he sees you lick the envelope and his thoughts run WILD

I had to share this cuz idk 💪

🎐anon

nsfw / suggestive scaramouche & the envelope; ANON THIS IS CRAZY WHY ARE YOU SO SMART

i am literally shaking. your last request was so good but this one takes it all 💯 HOW DO YOU THINK OF THESE THINGS

i was thinking of making this an entire fic by itself but i have other drafts i need to clear so you get whatever the hell this may be sorry 😰

you and scaramouche had been roommates for a few months now. he wasn’t the sweetest person in the world; but he payed his share of the bills, had a stable job, and had contributed to the house enough to be able to label him as a decent roommate.

the both of you never seemed to bother each other very often unless it was about the house. maybe the occasional “good morning” or “see you later”, but other than casualties, you never seemed to speak much.

maybe that was why you didn’t expect today to be so different than the rest. today, you had to head down to the post office to send a thank you letter to one of your family members. you had just graduated college recently and since they had send flowers and some money to “treat yourself” (you knew it would just go towards taxes anyways), you concluded that it would be basic courtesy to send a card back at the least.

you stood over the kitchen counter writing out the last of your letter to your extended family. your wrist ached with fatigue as you signed your name next to the love at the bottom of the card and put the pen aside, reaching over to the envelope you had put next to you.

scaramouche walked into the kitchen past you to slide a mug under and press a few buttons on the coffee maker. “what are you doing?” he had asked, the buzzing of the machine behind him making you lick your teeth to hold back the outward cringe. ‘that coffee maker must be old,’ you thought. ‘we should buy a new one soon.’

“just writing a letter.” you said flatly, picking up the envelope and turning to face scaramouche to engage in small talk.

scaramouche raised his eyebrows. “to who?” he inquired. you blinked and looked around for a moment; never had he held a conversation out with you for this long. this was definitely a first. “just some family that came to my graduation.” you murmured, lips occupied as you brought the envelope in your hands to your tongue to lick the seal.

you stuck your tongue out to glide it across the sticky part at the top, the taste of plastic lingering as you wet the seal. your eyes were too focused on the envelope to assure you didn’t cut your tongue (it’s happened before) that you didn’t notice the growing expression on your roommate’s face.

scaramouche’s eyes widened at the sight of your long tongue extending from your lips, carefully licking the adhesive and sealing the letter shut. his lips parted slightly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as his grip against the counter behind him hardened.

he could only stare, frozen in place as you finished the letter off with your stamps of choice and signing the address on the front. you said something to him, but he couldn’t hear you; the only thought in his mind your tongue and what it could do to him.

wait— what? what the hell was he thinking? you were his roommate; just some lowlife he shared an apartment with. but as much as he bashed himself internally, the image of you bending him over this counter right now, using that careful tongue of yours to please him was all he could see. vision foggy as his lips pressed themselves into a line, the sound of the coffee machine behind beeping snapped him out of his thoughts.

“scaramouche, hello? have you seen my—” “no!” he snapped, snatching the mug from the machine and rushing off to his room. your eyes trailed him confusedly. what was wrong with him? matter of fact, what was wrong with you?

you watched him rush away, eyes falling to the evident bulge in his pants before he slammed the door of his bedroom.

#@ genacity ☆ #@ 🎐 anon ☆ #@ scaramouche ☆ #sub scaramouche #sub wanderer #sub kunikuzushi #dom reader #sub character #sub character smut #sub genshin #that. that is insane. #🎐 anon is WILDING in my inbox right now

[seraphmeraph]

hi!! i recently found ur account while scrounging thru the bi han tag (theres so little bi han x reader fics 😭) and i love ur writing so i was wondering if you could do a bi han x princess reader? maybe the lin kuei made some kind of alliance with a king and he falls jn love (or lust) with his daughter? idk if that makes a lot of sense lolll. anyways thank u and i love ur work!!

i gen never expected people to really like Bi Han that much

Bi Han x Princess Reader

MK1 short story with smut at the end starring guess who?? BI HAN <3

TW: 18+, smut at end, fingering, praises, suggestive, boobs, Bi Hans not as degrading, forbidden love

A/N: mb for this shittiness anon i tried LMAO- I feel like by now everybody should know i dead just don't proofread

Your father, the kind, wanted to strengthen his kingdom's defenses. So, to achieve this, he proposed an alliance with the enigmatic Lin Kuei.

You first met Bi Han at a banquet to congratulate your alliance. Your father introduced him to you as the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. You couldn't help but feel attracted to his cold and rough attitude, not to mention how handsome he was.

Bi Han's heart fluttered when he saw you, but he tried to push it deep away, feeling unfamiliar with this feeling. But as time passed, he couldn't help but try to be closer to you. He wanted to hear your rambles and see your beautiful eyes and elegance.

He would purposefully run into you, planning and taking notes on locations you would stop by. One of these is the royal garden, where you'd take a walk every day. Slowly, you noticed how often you would see the Grandmaster. You found it unusual, but you didn't mind his presence.

Slowly, it went from seeing each other to striking up conversations with him. He would often give you advice for your duties as a princess.

As you two grew closer, you would often find yourself openly complimenting him and subtly flirting.

"I'm aware you're a cryomancer, but does your heart ever get cold? Maybe my presence can warm it," You spoke, gaining a little smile from him. It was the first time you had ever seen him smile, and it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

Considering he's unfamiliar, you are likely the first to admit your feelings. You asked him to meet you in the royal garden at night, and when he showed up, you began confessing.

The garden was very serene and peaceful. The moon cast a pale, silvery light over the garden, illuminating the flowers and trees. It was filled with the sweet fragrance of the blooming flowers. The pathway was dimly lit with the soft glowing lanterns, casting a warm and inviting light onto you both.

"Princess," He greeted you with a bow. "Is there a reason you requested to see me this belatedly at night?" He questioned, his voice gruff, but his eyes betrayed him.

"Yes…" You took a deep breath. "Grandmaster, I believe I'm in love with you," You admitted, wasting no time admitting your feelings. Though you were nervous, you were also confident.

"Princess…" He trailed off, unsure what to say.

You stepped closer to him, feeling your heart beating faster with anticipation. "Please, don't say anything if you don't feel the same way. I just had to tell you how I feel," You said, trying to hide your disappointment.

But before you could leave him, he pulled you in and kissed you. He backed you into one of the pillars, pressing your back against it. The kiss became passionate. All his pent-up lust for you is pouring out now. His cold hands were going to cup your cheek.

Your love was forbidden, a princess with a Lin Kuei assassin? Not to mention, you were the next heir to the throne. Your father would prohibit you from ever seeing Bi Han again and most likely change the relationship between your kingdom and the Lin Kuei.

A secret relationship between you both blossomed. Bi Han would often meet you in your chambers or the garden. Occasionally, he would convince your father that he was best fit to guard you whenever you had events.

BONUS

You would leave your balcony window open for Bi Han to climb through at night. This was one of the nights when Bi Han visited you.

"Grandmaster!" You almost exclaimed, getting up off your bed to see him closer.

"Bi Han," He corrected you with a slight smirk.

"Sorry," You giggled, taking hold of his hand and bringing it to your cheek. His excellent hands felt cold against your warm cheek. "I missed you, Bi Han," You smiled, looking up at him.

His thumb grazed your cheek as you continued to hold it. "I did too, my princess," He spoke, leaning over to kiss you.

His lips pressed against yours, and you both were locked into a fiery kiss. Bi Han's other hand gripped your waist, pulling you deeply into the kiss. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, gaining entry into your mouth.

Bi Han couldn't contain his desire anymore. Pulling away from you, he threw you over his shoulder, carrying you over to your bed. You giggled at his roughness and kicked your legs, but he easily held them in place.

He threw you down on the bed, got on top of you, and continued your kiss. One of his hands gripped your thigh, pushing up your nightgown just enough to expose your panties.

Your hands went up to his hair, fingers reaching his bun. You quickly undid it, letting his hair down.

He pulled away from the kiss again, pinning your hands above your head. His hair fell around his shoulders.

"You're so handsome with your hair down," You looked at him lovingly.

"Is that so?" He spoke, his hand trailed closer to your core.

You couldn't help but shiver, feeling his cold fingers touch the sensitive part of your thigh. He then let go of your hand, using both to pull the nightgown over your head.

You sigh softly, feeling Bi Han's hands run over your body. His lips followed down your body, stopping to give your breasts extra attention. Rubbing your nipple in between his fingers while sucking the other one. His eyes looked up at you, watching as your face contorted into one of pleasure.

His hand slid down to your stomach, holding you in place as he kissed your body.

"Tell me, do I have your approval, Princess?" He said teasingly, smirking.

"Yes-Yes," You babbled, running your hand through his long hair.

He pulled your panties off, and his thumb massaged your clit as the other hand spread your thighs further apart.

You bit your bottom lip, keeping your legs open for Bi Han.

He inserted two digits into your heat, the cold of his fingers giving you goosebumps. He began pistoning his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, not giving you any warning.

"Bi-Bi Han!" You grabbed at his shoulders as he continued his assault on your pussy.

"Tell me how you feel, pretty girl," He spoke, his eyes never leaving your face, obsessed with your reactions.

Let's hope you don't wake the whole castle up.

#bi han x reader #mk x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat smut #afab reader #bi han #bi han smut #bi han x you #lin kuei #bi han sub zero #bi han mk #mk1 sub zero #drabbles #one shot #smut #bi-han x reader #'

[justmediocrewriting]

“White Lace,” {v.s}

Summary: it’s laundry day on the Merry, and ever the gentleman, Sanji offered to take Nami’s place when the navigator explained that she was too exhausted to attend to the chore. Sanji expected to simply find a sore back and pruny fingers by doing so, but instead he found much more…

Or: Sanji finds a pair of your white lace underwear, and you catch him in the middle of washing them, resulting in some tension and embarrassment between the both of you.

Genre: spice (no smut, but dirty thoughts and suggestive themes)

Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Requested: ❌

Warnings: I kinda feel this could fall under voyeurism to an extent, because Sanji does find a pair of your panties and kind of like plays with them, so maybe it does? Idk. Some rather not-so-innocent thoughts from Sanji, sexualization, very slight virginity kink if you squint really hard, panty sniffing, panty licking, sexual tension(ish?), female pronouns and parts mentioned

A/n: so I’ve got roughly 10+ things in my drafts right now but this literally WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE, so I knew I had to write it. I hope you hoes enjoy ❤️ might do a part 2 idkkkk. 18+ under the cut, ye have been warned.

{=================================}

Sanji found comfort in routine. For some, a humdrum life would become quickly boring, but for Sanji repetition was key to his sanity. It was the main reason that Sanji was so fluidly quick in creating a new routine from the first day he’d agreed to set sail with Luffy — that and that it had helped cure the insistent anxiety of being at sea again after so many years of remaining stationary.

Sanji greatly disliked breaking routine unless the situation absolutely called for it; a battle, for example, or in this morning’s case, a beautiful woman asking him for help.

Sanji enjoyed routine, but he enjoyed satisfying women a lot more.

So when Nami had entered the galley, hair mussed and eyes hazy and unfocused with a small basket of laundry perched delicately on her hip, Sanji was quick to abandon the first step of his daily routine (taking inventory of the galley stock) and pluck the basket from her arm.

Nami sighed gratefully and her shoulders slumped with relief.

“Thanks, Sanji.” Nami muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion, and Sanji felt his heart lurch with sympathy. It wasn’t as though he was a stranger to fatigue.

“I spent most of the night drawing the charts to the next few islands. I guess I got so wrapped up in it I just hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.”

Sanji nodded along to her explanation as he gently set the basket of clothes atop the island counter, and in the process he inadvertently let his eyes skim across the articles within. Colors popped against one another, like a cluttered rainbow of pinks, blues, whites, reds, and teals — from what Sanji could see they were mostly shirts.

“Laundry day, aye?” Sanji asked conversationally, tearing his eyes from the basket to smile at Nami. She groaned and brought a hand up to massage the back of her neck as she nodded.

“Yeah. There’s a few of my shirts in there, but it’s mostly (Y/N)’s clothes. She washed mine last week, so I agreed to wash hers this week.”

Sanji frowned and appraised the tired woman before him; it pained him to see a woman like Nami having to work so hard. He’d always felt that life at sea, what with so much to maintain, was far too harsh for a lady — ladies were meant to be spoiled and taken care of, at least in Sanji’s eyes. Nami had chosen a life at sea, and Sanji knew that with this decision she’d long accepted the responsibilities of such, and he had no doubt that Nami could handle it, but if Sanji could do something to help relieve her of some of the work he would.

“I can take care of it for you, if you want.” Sanji said, and Nami’s eyes snapped open. She looked equal parts relieved and panicked by his offer, and she hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, Sanji, I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve already got enough on your plate.” Nami murmured, and then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “we all do.”

Sanji rolled his shoulders in dismissal of her worry. “You’re not asking, love. I’m offering. And I’m not too terribly busy; it’s still early, so I’ll have plenty of time to prep breakfast before Luffy wakes up.”

Nami bit her lip, and she looked minutely closer to accepting the offer, but there was still a hardened hesitation in her eyes. Sanji smiled ever gently at her.

“It’s alright, Nami. Why not go back to your quarters and rest for a bit? I’ll take care of this.”

Finally, Nami sighed and relented to acceptance. With a small but grateful nod, she gave Sanji a tired smile before turning on her heel to exit the galley; before she did so, she placed a manicured hand against the door frame and sent him one last glance.

“Really, Sanji, thank you. Once you’re done washing them you don’t have to worry about hanging them to dry; just come get me and I’ll do that.” And with that Nami breezed from the galley, and Sanji gave a small chuckle at her attempt to take some of the load off of him. Even if it was Nami’s turn to do the laundry as was her responsibility, Sanji wouldn’t allow her to set them to dry — he’d do that himself, as well; and he even set it in his mind that he’d fold them as well.

It wasn’t until Sanji pulled out the first shirt that he began to feel as though he shouldn’t have offered his help; because the fabric in his hand was familiar, and it dawned on him that the majority of the clothes in the basket were yours. It was a detail that Sanji had skimmed by when Nami was explaining the situation, and now the reality of it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Sanji’s skin prickled as if he were committing the most atrocious sin, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. The shirt in his hand was one of your favorites; you’d worn it a lot, and just looking at the rumpled article supplied Sanji with various memories of you donning it. It looked rather pleasant on you, especially when the hem of it rose slightly to reveal the smallest sliver of skin when you moved in just the right way, and Sanji had to quickly place it back in the basket and take a deep inhale to staunch the blood flowing towards his groin.

Sanji’s attraction to you was something that he vaguely felt might be out of hand; he was a lover of women, yes, but never had he experienced a pull as strong as the one he had towards you. Maybe it was the way innocence practically poured from your aura, or the way your cheeks brightened with any pet name or compliment he offered you, as if such attention was a completely new experience for you — whatever it was, it was highly alluring to Sanji, and he found himself wanting more and more of it – of you – every day.

Sanji flared his nostrils a few more times, every breath deep and steadying, repeatedly telling himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong and his intentions were of the best, and to get a fucking grip, Sanji. Just wash the clothes and be normal!

As he relocated the basket next to the sink and pulled out a pale yellow shirt Sanji deliberately tried to focus his thoughts on anything other than the fact that he was touching your clothes, that you’d worn them and they’d clung to your skin and more than likely smelled of you, of that wonderful floral perfume that was subtle but nearly overpowering in close proximity — that thought alone had Sanji itching to bring the fabric to his nose and inhale, and he had to quickly turn the faucet on and shove the article beneath the stream of water to avoid doing so.

Piece by piece, mechanically and as empty headed as possible, Sanji soaked and washed the clothes under the stream of water, wringing each article out generously to avoid the chance of mildew. By the time he was half way through the basket, Sanji felt confident that he could get through the process without too much trouble (or too many inappropriate thoughts or southward flowing blood); but that was quickly wiped from his psyche when he mindlessly groped within the basket and laid touch to something soft and small and lacy.

Upon pulling it out to examine it, Sanji was hit with a flush of arousal so strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet; gripped within his fingers, soft and lacy and so, so delicate looking, was a pair of white, sheer panties. Sanji’s entire being short circuited, train of thought screeching to a halt and brain being instead assaulted by a myriad of images — of those sheer white panties clinging to your hips, cupping the swell of your ass in such a tantalizing way, hem resting against your tummy and rising in time with your labored breaths as Sanji picked you apart molecule by molecule —

“Stop,” Sanji hissed to himself, cursing his traitorous dick when it hardened to half mast in his dress pants, twitching in approval with each new image and thought that flashed into his hind brain. Sanji knew he should look away, knew he could stop these reactions if he just put the panties away, abandoned the task and fetched Nami instead to finish it — and though Sanji swore to himself that he wouldn’t do that due to his pride as a gentleman, the deepest part of him knew that he wasn’t going to do it because he was curious, and he was enjoying this, as much as that fact ashamed him.

Panties were one of the most, if not the most, intimate articles of clothing a woman could wear; they covered the sweetest fruit, kept it protected and out of sight, and they constantly shifted and hugged that sensitive pearl beneath. They were precious, and the fact that they belonged to you made them even more so.

Sanji nearly groaned at the thought; he could so clearly see you wearing the panties, see the way they hugged against your pussy, could imagine just how drenched the center would get as he worked you into oblivion with his lips —

Sanji opened the panties and this time, a groan did slip past his lips — because right there, in the center of the bridge of the panties, right where they would cling to your pussy, the fabric was slightly darker, and Sanji’s dick jumped at the sight. The overwhelming urge to shove them against his nose and breathe in the phantom traces of your slick sent alternating waves of arousal and intense shame through Sanji, because that was dirty, these panties were dirty, they were yours and it would be such an abuse of your trust in him if he did something like that — but the longer he stared, the stronger the urge became, and soon enough arousal had completely consumed shame, and Sanji quickly brought the panties to his face, shoving his nose directly into the center and inhaling. Sanji panted heavily against the fabric as the sweet scent entered his nostrils; it was faint, as he’d assumed it would be, but it was there, and it was so much sweeter than Sanji could have ever imagined.

Sanji pressed his hips into the counter as he took in lungfuls of your scent, hissing lowly at the pressure against the straining bulge in his pants, hips moving just so to chase a semblance of friction — consumed by sudden lust and the thought of you, the scent of you, and the urge to taste where you were sweetest, Sanji laved his tongue against the dried patch of slick, moaning haughtily into the softness of your panties.

Sanji’s surroundings and reality seemed to completely melt away as he lost himself within the sensations of smelling and tasting you, something he so longed for — just as much as he longed to corrupt you, to show you all the naughty things he shouldn’t, like he longed to see you wearing these panties, so innocent and white, and see them become forever stained from actions that were too devious and sinful for such a color.

Sanji wanted to stain you — he wanted your innocent little brain to fog over with lust, to see you discombobulate on his cock as he stretched you wide, as he took you to heights you’d never been, watch those beautiful eyes of yours roll back and watch you bare that lovely neck to him, to bite and mark and cover, to claim you, inside and out.

Sanji let out a guttaral groan as his hips picked up speed; the counter was firm and hard against his cock, a far cry from the soft, wet warmth he craved to be buried inside, but it offered friction, and with how hard his cock was, that’s what he needed, even if it was a bit unpleasant.

As consumed as he was by the myriad of sensations stoking his arousal, the soft rapping of knuckles against the wooden doorframe of the galley was almost lost on him; but thankfully, his ears had picked it up, and as if they had burned him, Sanji threw the panties into the sink below him. There was a soft splat against the steel, and Sanji winced as he realized the bridge of the panties had been soaked with his saliva — thankfully, the sound was too faint to be heard from the doorway, and the relief that offered Sanji increased tenfold as he turned to look over his shoulder and caught sight of you.

Sanji’s breath caught in his throat, and nearly all traces of arousal had been chased away by deep-seated shame, and Sanji did his best to smile at you through the guilt.

“Good morning, love. Is there something you need?” Sanji forced his voice to stay calm despite the sheer panic and guilt threatening to weigh it down; Sanji’s heart was thundering within his chest, battering against his ribcage with the force of a raging bull, and he willed his erection to just go away —

But his dick was not cooperating with him, and it stayed rock hard within his pants as you smiled back shyly and began to approach him; as you turned the corner of the island counter, Sanji belatedly realized that you had a small basket tucked under your arm, with a few articles of clothing within.

“Nothing much, Sanji. Nami told me you were helping with the laundry today, and I found these in our room so I thought I’d bring them in and offer you some help—”

Sanji watched with growing dread as you paused just a couple inches from the sink, your eyes zeroing in on the panties within and widening as your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape (which did not help with his erection, as his mind went to very shadowy places from the sight), and your cheeks went from normal to beet red in seconds (which also didn’t help, because it was far too pretty of a color on you).

Heavy, awkward silence fell over the galley as you stared, frozen, at the sink — Sanji wanted to look away from you, knew that you were far beyond embarrassed right now and that his staring was certainly not helping, but he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Arousal was still thrumming beneath his skin, and it was like seeing you in a whole new light; knowing that those sweet, innocent, pretty panties belonged to you, that you’d worn them, that they sat snugly against your pussy and became saturated in you, in your innocence, had his dick twitching and fingers itching to pull your body flush against his. He wanted to see you wearing them for him, wanted you to bend over and present to him, so that he could see the outline of your pussy, soaked and ready, through the fabric —

Sanji inhaled sharply and tore his eyes away from you, and part of him wanted to stutter out an apology, beg for your forgiveness — he was being so shameful, sexualizing you objectifying you in the way he was, craving to take away your innocence, something that was so deeply ingrained into who you were —

But the words were stuck in his throat, unable to move past the lump of sheer shame and regret, and even if they could, would Sanji really have the courage to admit what he’d done, let alone apologize for it?

He truly didn’t know if he would.

Sanji’s actions had been so unbecoming, had went against the very essence of his code — but that was just the simple fact of it; you had this effect on him, a tendency to bring out the worst in him. And if Sanji were being honest with himself, he enjoyed it. He secretly loved the fact that you could draw that dormant beast from its slumber, all without even knowing you were doing it.

“Those, um… those are…” to Sanji’s surprise, it was your voice that broke the silence, and though he knew it would only stir him up more, Sanji snapped his eyes to you. You vehemently ignored any eye contact with him, gaze still locked on the sink, and in the blink of an eye with movements that were much faster than Sanji’s fuddled mind could perceive, your hand shot out and you ripped the panties from the sink, throwing them hastily into the basket before resituating it on your hip.

“I’ll w-wash these later,” you mumbled, cheeks still flaming, and Sanji hated the way his dick twitched at the sight. It was such a show of innocent bashfulness that it made Sanji heat from the inside out. Finally, you made the briefest of eye contact with him and gave him a small nod. “Carry on.”

Then you were turning on your heel and swiftly exiting the galley, leaving Sanji alone with his own thoughts, a half empty laundry basket, and a roaring flame of shame and guilt that Sanji didn’t think could ever be doused.

#opla #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #op #one piece

[doobea]

✰⋆⁺★ FUZZY BRAIN ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: Choso spends the evening learning about the effects of alcohol, talking about his life goals, and gets his first kiss - all in that order.

contents: canon universe, manga spoilers + character death mentioned in passing, gn!reader, pov kinda switches back and forth w internal thoughts, sfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, slight suggestiveness, first kiss + making out, friends to lovers, choso gets drunk in this and is a bit shy and awkward + learning how to be a regular half human/half curse - y'know the whole deal word count: 1.3K a/n: if hes not underneath my christmas tree by Dec 25th then idk what to do

Choso quickly learns that alcohol brings out a side of him that he's not proud of. He's not careful with his words, not careful with his actions, and not careful with his emotions. That's why, he's glad that he's currently drunk out of his mind around you.

"I..." his voice starts wavering, head groveling against your kitchen counter as he fails to find grip around the glass of whiskey. "I don't think I deserve anyone..."

Oh no. Internally, Choso feels himself cringe but he knows he can't stop now. The oversharing has begun.

"I'm still trying to figure out how to properly live as a human," he feels himself choking on incoming tears as he thinks back to Yuki's last words. He pauses to control his breathing, only continuing when he feels the warmth from your hands rubbing the back of his shoulders. "I can't forgive myself for what I've done and I don't expect anyone else to do the same."

"Hey," you gently call out his name and brush away some of the matted strands sticking against his forehead. Choso is positive that he's sweating up a storm by how hot he feels thanks to the alcohol. "I don't think you really knew what you were fighting for. You were manipulated, used, and then tossed aside by your own father. It's shitty how everything happened but you're doing the right thing now."

Choso hears your words, appreciates them dearly to his heart, but he's too wasted to actually say anything coherent back. He hums absentmindedly and says what he thinks is a 'thanks'.

You take a cautious peek at the man and smile. His scar pop out so much more when the rest of his cheeks are red, you find it hypnotizing and a bit adorable. Mostly adorable. Whatever. You're both drunk.

"Let's pretend that you're not a century old half-curse for a second," you continue after a minute of silence from counting his lashes, losing count, and restarting about five times. "What would you like to be now?"

Choso blinks, finally raising his head up from the counter and gives you a teary look. "I don't feel like a curse when I'm around you," and then, he quickly adds on, "or Yuuji, or the others."

You laugh at his answer before sliding your body out of the barstool, stopping only when half of your body is on the floor and the upper half is leaning against his legs for support.

You hear Choso calling out your name anxiously. "...Are you okay? Should I get someone—"

"You're making me melt," you crane your head up and you're not sure if this is from the drinks, the dim lighting from the shitty lightbulbs in the ceiling, or if Choso has always just been so pretty. You feel like you could drown in his eyes with how much tender and vulnerability he's allowing out. You bump your head against his legs, giggling and letting the alcohol take over. "You're so genuinely sweet and self-sacrificing, I think you deserve the world."

Choso begins to chuckle in return, although not as enthusiastically. He feels the need to have some control or else he'll really set himself loose. "I appreciate you, too."

You raise two thumbs up. "Back to the game – what would you be doing?"

Choso thinks about it way too hard. Maybe it’s the alcohol already making his brain go foggy. He sips some whiskey again, but his motions sluggish and messy that he ends up spilling some of it all over his face, making you howl with laughter as he rushes to wash his face.

That makes him feel slightly better. Not too drunk. Not too warm.

You're still on the floor, laughing. Choso finds some confidence and nudges you with his foot and, instead of sitting back down on the barstool, he joins you on the floor.

"I would probably own a coffee shop," Choso muses. "The ones with cats roaming around. I've seen a few from the movies that Yuuji showed me."

"Ooh, somehow that fits you!" You're giggling even more now. Just the image of him, a big grungy man with a kitten themed apron tied around his waist, is almost enough to make you swoon. Almost. "Can I be the barista that doesn't actually do any of the work and spends all their time hanging out with the cats?"

Choso smiles amusingly. "Only if you're okay with me joining in."

He’s redder now, and Choso knows this is the alcohol. He would never be this bold with you, or with anyone really. You get up on your knees and, before Choso asks you where you're going, you hover over him, caging him between your limbs.

"I want us to have senior cats," you're leaning in and, wow, he feels his brain short circuiting right now. "And I want the cafe to be by the ocean."

"Isn't this supposed to be my dream?"

"Hey, it can be both of our dreams too!"

Yeah, you're both super drunk.

A grin spreads across your face as you lift up one hand and begin stroking Choso’s cheek with gentleness. Choso shivers a little. He’s not sure how to react, because he’s frozen, staring up at his beautiful—beautiful?—friend who's currently on top of him looking down to his eyes like he’s the most precious thing ever, and Choso feels like dying a little. He’s also a bit short of breath. He’s a bit short of everything right now.

You're giggling again. You're so close, the mix of your perfume and the alcohol tickles Choso's nostrils, and he's trying so hard to resist the urge to pull you down and kiss you.

Luckily, you've read his mind and finally lean in, capturing his lips. And it’s all so familiar and strange at the same time, as if doing anything with you is as easy as breathing to him. Choso immediately finds himself kissing back. He hesitantly brings his hands up and finds home around your waist, relishing in how soft your body feels and how your lips are now easily his favorite thing in the whole world. You break away from him and begin peppering kisses across his jawline, down to his neck, his shoulders—

Choso's dead right now, but he also feels alive, and he feels like floating, and god he is so drunk right now.

He chokes out your name, and it’s all he can say. No other words come out. He just hopes your name is a good sign to let him know how wrecked he is right now.

He mutters your name over and over again, getting you to laugh against his neck, and Choso is feeling a mix of ‘this is too much’ and feeling like he needs more. You get back up, giving him one more kiss – slow and gentle – and then pull away.

You lend him a hand, and smiling softly as you pull him on his feet, quick to hold him against you when he’s too drunk to move. "Hey, are you feeling better now?"

And Choso just nods because he can’t trust himself to speak.

"Perfect," you grin and throw one of his limp arms over your shoulders. "Let's get you to bed then."

"You're... You're staying here, right?" he asks before he can stop himself.

"Cho, you're in my apartment!"

Right, duh.

He doesn’t really focus on the journey to your bedroom, since he's too hyperaware on how close your bodies are and how he still really wants to kiss you, but he won’t.

Somehow, you manage to pull him into your bed. It's nice, smells just like you, and the throbbing and warmth in his body starts to calm down just a little.

"Y’know, Cho," you begin, yawning. "We can do this anytime you feel overwhelmed."

Choso frowns. "Talking?"

"Kissing."

Choso is dead.

Officially dead.

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

#doobea writing #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso

[angelltheninth]

I noticed your requests are OPEN??? I really enjoy your writing and how you interpret the Bllk characters specifically!!

I was wondering if I could request hc for how the dudes would react to seeing reader in a bathing suit for the first time? Maybe it's a first time pool trip, or beach trip, idk. I enjoy Kunigami, Chigiri, and Reo, but feel free to include anyone else that suits your fancy!

Thanks so much and have a good day! 💚

The famous anime pool/beach episode. Obviously Blue Lock can't have one (shame) because I think they'd all look great.

Pairing: Hyoma Chigiri, Kunigami Rensuke, Mikage Reo x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fluff, suggestive, awkward boner, flirting, swimming, grinding, teasing, sneaking around, making out, handjobs, groping, breast fondling, nipple licking, blowjob, cum shot, fingering, keeping quiet

A/N: There was that bath episode but its nowhere near a good old classic beach episode.

Chigiri is left with his mouth hanging open when you walk out in your new swimsuit. Can... can you even wear that? It looks great on you but he's not sure he likes the amount of looks that you're getting. In that case he'll just have to keep you extra close to him during this beach trip.

Swimming isn't so easy for him when you keep pressing your breasts against his back and rubbing them against his chest. He needs to get out before swimming becomes impossible and judging by the increasing pressure he's feeling on his cock he doesn't have much time before others start to notice, he cannot have that happen, he'd die of embarrassment.

Had to think quickly and took you by the hand to find an empty, secluded place behind some rocks. The moment you were alone he pressed against you, pulled the lower part of your swimsuit down and sank his hard cock inside.

The sounds of the waives crashing against the shore and the rocks are covering up some of the slapping sounds that are being made. Normally he's more shy about things like these but you can't be looking so attractive, can't have so many men looking at you and not expect him to do something about it.

Kunigami was with you when you were buying your swimsuit but he only saw you wear when you went to the big pool. He knew what you bought was sexy, he knew it would look good on you, he didn't realize just how much he'd like it. Neither did his dick. The only place he could run off to was the changing room, face pink and reach into his trunks to relieve himself.

He didn't notice you coming in until he hear the click of the lock. He had his trunks down and his cock in his hand, ready for your mouth. You don't just want it in your mouth though, you want it all over your swimsuit, to be marked by him, with his cum.

Were you always such a dirty girl and he's never noticed? He can't stop the groans that leave his mouth when you lick from the tip of his cock to his balls. No, no teasing, this needs to be quick, so excuse him while he helps himself to your mouth.

Got a bit carried away with his thrusting, getting the tip all the way to the back of your throat and barely able to pull out when you started swallowing around him so there would be cum left to shoot across your face and chest.

Reo waits until you get into the pool until he lets you know just how much he appreciates your new swimsuit. If he wanted to he could tug on the string and loosen it, but he what he does instead is sneak his hand down your back and finds your pussy hole. Sadly the water is preventing him for going as fast as he'd like to but on the other hand its covering up the squelching sounds.

Where the fun really begins is the changing rooms. He wouldn't risk others seeing your naked body, he's not scared about them looking at you in your swimming suit, let them see what he has and they don't, let them be jealous of the fact that he gets to have sex with you every night.

Now that you're alone he can take your swimsuit off and bury his head into your chest, licking from one nipple to the other while kneading your ass cheeks. You're both already more then ready so there's no need for any more foreplay.

He can thrust his cock into you with very little resistance. Knows you're not wet just from the pool, your pussy is so hot, sopping wet around him, you must have chosen that swimsuit just to get him horny. Mission accomplished.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #hyoma chigiri x reader #kunigami rensuke x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock fluff #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #bllk smut #bllk fluff #bllk imagines #bllk headcanons

[theheartbreakprincesss]

red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

•

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #writings #imagine #bau team #bau team x reader #spencer reid x reader #bau!reader #my writings #idk how to tag this #not beta read #fluffy #fluff #no use of y/n #derek morgan #penelope garcia #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #imagines

[cheolhub]

YOUR MINE AND I TAKE CARE OF WHAT BELONGS TO ME + CHEOL

Also happy cheolhubversary <333 IM NOT YET DONE READING UR POST i just ran as fast as i could here when yew said ure only taking the first 5-10 reqs hajdjdjsk

12:37 a.m. — choi seungcheol

prompt. “you’re mine and i take care of what belongs to me.”

wc. ~1.4k

warnings. established relationship, frat boy!cheol, cheeky!reader, slight possessiveness, choking, pet names [baby, angel], doggy style? (idk, it’s against the door 😅) dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie – MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so ik i said my limit was 1k for these drabbles, but plz understand i can’t hold back when it comes to cheol. ANYWAY!! kai <3 thank u for sending an ask !! ^^ i know this is kinda… meh,, but i hope u enjoy it a little bit anyway  >< (def not proofread… sorry)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ

seungcheol dragging you through a sea of sweaty bodies was the last thing you wanted. 

well, no actually… it’s exactly what you wanted. your plan worked out just the way you knew it would. 

your attempts to get cheol’s attention at the start of the night proved to be futile as he had to make sure tonight’s party was in order. “the frat might get suspended if another one of our parties gets out of control,” he’d said. you could care less about the frat. not with the way your panties were glued to your needy, needy core. “i just gotta make sure everything is okay. just mingle for a bit, ‘kay?”

and you definitely weren’t the happiest when he told you to wait till the night was over, so you did what you do best. 

piss him the fuck off.

by the time the party was in full swing, you’d asked at least 3 of seungcheol’s frat brothers the same question. “this party is so lame,” you’d said through a sad sigh. “can you do something for me?” the question always came out so…suggestively. it was obvious you were plotting something and looking for someone to do the dirty work.

but soonyoung was too drunk to comprehend your words and wonwoo knew the second you’d walked up to him with a frown on your face. he said he’s not getting in between you and seungcheol after the last time he fell for your antics. 

but vernon… vernon was the perfect prospect. he would get the job done perfectly. 

“nonnie,” you pouted, much too pretty for his liking. “will you do me a favor?”

and vernon, ever the sweet angel, replied with, “anything. what’s up?”

you leaned in and ghosted your lips over the shell of his ear, “will you tell cheol that this party fucking sucks?” you felt his body vibrate against yours as he let out a soft laugh. “and tell him that if he doesn’t come fuck me, i’ll find someone that will.”

vernon pulled back and wearily raised an eyebrow at you.

“i’m not actually going to,” you explained through a laugh. “but if i tell him, he’ll know i'm bluffing. but if you tell him while also mentioning you heard this from wonwoo and soonyoung, then… you know. i get what i want and everyone’s happy.” you corrected yourself, “well, i’ll be happy.” 

the thing you love the most about vernon is he doesn’t ask very many questions. you could ask him to help you bury a body and he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye, just do as you ask with a nod and a careless shrug.

he went off and did exactly that. and you didn’t regret making him do it at all.

how could you when seungcheol was seething, practically shoving everyone out of his way to find you after hearing that you needed someone at this shitty party to fuck you? you’ll have to find the loose-lipped vernon later and thank him for relaying the rumor to your busy boyfriend.

honestly, you weren’t expecting him to drop everything– to stop running the party which was the whole reason he left you hanging in the first place– just to pull you into his room, wrap his hand around your throat, and slam you against the door. 

“you’re a little slut,” he chuckles, obviously amused. you smile back at him cheekily, eyes glazing over. “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”

“what ever do you mean, cheollie?” you ask innocently, still smiling like a devil in disguise.

he leans in, lips ghosting over yours as he asks, “i mean, you really think anyone at this party can fuck you like i do? make you cum like i can?” 

his voice is low and hushed and it’s making your head spin. even over the booming music from outside his door, all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his slight pants.

“you’re mine.” he says without a shadow of a doubt. “and i take care of what belongs to me. got that?”

you don’t have a chance to reply when he’s tightening his grip around your throat and smashing his lips against yours. he laughs against your mouth when you let out a choked moan into his, easing his hold on you. 

his free hand finds its way under your skirt, rubbing your cunt through your embarrassingly wet panties. seungcheol moans when he feels it. the lace growing wetter with every movement.

he pulls back, observing your glassy eyes and the way your wet, swollen lips part to emit a whine. his cock can’t help but twitch under the confinement of his jeans. “don’t even need me to prep you, do you, baby?” he breathily asks. “you’re soaking my hand through your panties, poor thing.”

you shake your head fervently, “just need you inside of me. please.”

“i know you do, such a needy baby. going around and telling everyone how you need someone to fuck you.” he coos, fingers catching your clit and rubbing into the sensitive clothed bud. your hands grasp at the hem of his shirt, trying to gyrate your hips for more, but you fail miserably. “impatient, too.” he hums. 

“fuck, cheol, please!” you whine desperately. 

he groans, ripping his hands away from you entirely before spinning you around and pressing your front against the door. you softly gasp as your cheek smooshes against the wooden door.

you hear the clanking of his belt and the zip of his zipper and you can barely contain your excitement. you flatten your palms on the door, arching your back and wiggling your ass in front of him.

he grunts at the sight, flipping your dress up and pulling your panties to the side. he slots his heavy tip between your lips and runs it through your drenched folds.

a mewl erupts in your chest when you finally feel the fat head of his cock slip into you, stretching you open as he pushes himself deeper and deeper till he’s fully sheathed inside of you. he grazes right against your spongy spot and it has your hands clawing at the door. 

seungcheol lets you adjust to the sheer size of him for all but a minute before he’s pulling out and thrusting back into you. 

and when his arm wraps around your middle, fingers diligently rubbing into your clit, you can’t hold the cry back. his name leaves your mouth rather loudly and you’re starting to feel grateful for the rambunctious party. 

his laughs airly, “this what you wanted, baby? wanted to get fucked, yeah?”

pained pleasure shoots through your body with every thrust, every bump to your cervix, every dirty word he grunts into the hot room, and it feels fucking fantastic. you clench around him, velvet walls squeezing him tight as if they’re trying to mold to the shape of him. 

“cheol!” is the only coherent thing that you can get out as his balls lewdly and rapidly slap against your cunt. 

“getting close? you ‘bout ready to cum for me?” he groans, mercilessly driving into you. you probably can’t hear him over the sounds of your moans, so he just rubs circles deeper into your clit, feeling you clamp around his cock for the nth time. 

you sob, a coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter before you jerk. your walls flutter and pulse around him as you let go, creaming his dick just like you’ve wanted to all night long. you practically go limp in his arms, orgasm turning your entire body to jelly. 

he groans, both of his arms now around your middle as he uses you till he reaches his own high. he’s moaning out your name as he shoots his load into your battered cunt, his warmth overflowing inside of you. 

and when he draws out of you, still panting and on a high, he pulls your panties back over your cunt and stands you up straight.

you look breathless and dazed and he can’t help but grin at you.  

“now why don’t we go back downstairs and enjoy the lame party?”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

#[ birthday bash ! ] #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #[ ⭐️: mutuals ! ] #[ 🌷: kai ! ] #[ 🍒: seungcheol ! ]

[jayjj7]

chapter 28. dinner

prev. | next | masterlist

even though you knew this was coming, walking into your boss’ office is nerve wracking. danielle is already in his office, sitting on a spare chair, turning her head upon seeing you walk in. you shoot her a small smile and stand behind danielle to give ryo and tae some space to walk into the office.

your hands are resting on danielle’s shoulders, gently rubbing against her doctors coat. she brings up a hand to hold yours, rubbing her thumb against each individual digit of your yours.

nervousness was an understatement, you were scared shit-less about losing your job. it wasn’t that you disliked your job, you loved it in fact, it was just the conditions that made you dread clocking in every day.

“it has been brought to my attention that i have been giving my employees…” your boss motions his hands forward to put an emphasis on everyone in the room.

“an unfair imbalance of pay and recognition” he looks down at his desk, fixing his name plate so it’s straighter than before.

ryo automatically furrows his eyebrows in frustration, expecting something huge in return. tae on the other hand, keeps a composed demeanor while staring at your boss.

“which is why i will make sure everyone is payed the same starting today, i will also be paying for your guys’ dinner” you could tell your boss had no intention on ever doing so. the light, subtle sweat on his forehead only puts you in a bad mood.

“thank you sir” ryo reaches his hand out to shake the boss’ while smiling and laughing hysterically.

danielle sighs before dropping her phone down on the table, clearly annoyed and angry. she stands up and takes a hold of minji’s arm to pull her behind where danielle was headed. they make their way to the bathroom without any discussion, minji’s facial expression declared indifference, it was like she knew this was coming.

“minji what are you doing?” danielle crosses her arms across her chest, holding eye contact with minji after entering the bathroom.

“i’m not doing anything” minji holds her hands up as if she was surrendering.

“what is your problem with y/n? i already told you we solved everything!” danielle leans closer to minji out of frustration, trying to make a point.

“okay so what if that happens again dani? huh? she lashes out on you again over something you can’t control, then what?” minji speaks louder in hopes of knocking some sense into danielle.

“there was a reason why she was mad okay? she apologized and that was it! you don’t have to look out for me this much! you are crossing the line!” danielle swings her arms as she talks, out of breath by the time she’s finished speaking.

“dani, why do you keep giving her excuses? because if this was anyone else, you would not be this nice or forgiving!” minji shakes her head as she talks.

danielle always had a response for everything she was told, whether that was an answer to a question, a suggestion, or in this case: a witty remark. but this time was different, danielle was silent, unable to respond to minji. this caused for minji to continue asking questions.

“why are you taking care of her? because she looks fine to me!” she laughs. “is she even paying rent?” “ why do you always hide her from us?” minji talks faster.

“i mean you practically live with the girl and still i know nothing about her?” she rests her hands on her hips.

“because i like y/n!” danielle shouts, shutting minji up and causing her to leave her mouth agape.

“i like y/n! i’m giving her the benefit of the doubt for being immature not only because she’s sick, but because i like her!” danielle rubs her temple.

“she’s living with me because the doctors said i should look after her for a week or two and i like taking care of her! i called her my wife and i like the thought of it! okay minji? is that what you wanted?” danielle is stressed out, she looks drained after her speech.

after a moment of silence, minji speaks:

“you can’t date her”

taglist : [ @modanisgf @greenniee @milfcr @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @urwyf3 @flolio @imahallucination11 @pandafuriosa60 @kaypanaq @nnewjeansstuff @haerinkisser @brocoliisscared @starrynini05 @l-e-e-woso @kimminjiswife @herlv3r @linnnsworld @multiliker @jisooftme @beanwtf1 @trovao-penguins ] taglist is open !! comment to be added !

#danielle x reader #kpop #kpop smau #kpop x reader #kpop gg #newjeans x reader #newjeans smau #newjeans hyein #newjeans danielle #newjeans haerin #newjeans minji #newjeans hanni #newjeans

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Walls Are Crumbling

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: You loved hard and it was your downfall. Now pregnant with a child conceived out of wedlock, no one would want to marry you. But Benedict, your dearest friend, refuses to let you fall in ruins.

A/N: first official benedict fic! woohoo! might make a part 2? idk. gotta see how you all like this first lol

It was becoming a late night. Everyone was at Lady Danbury's ball while the two Bridgerton men stayed behind, claiming they had business to take care of. However, Anthony and Benedict sat in Anthony's study chatting and drinking, happy to not be under the Ton's watchful eyes this night. Their peaceful night had gone interrupted as servant knocked on the door, "I'm sorry, my Lords, there is a Lady Y/N here."

The men's ears perked. You were a dear friend of their family. You were supposed to be at the ball. They were suddenly alert. Surely, there's something wrong if you're coming to them than staying at the party.

Benedict is the first to stand, "If you could send her here, please."

The servant nods, leaving to get you. Within moments, she's back but with you following her.

Anthony is the first to rush to your side, "What's wrong? Are you alright?" He always was like a protective brother to you

You can't help but break down into immediate tears, "I'm so stupid, Anthony!"

Benedict comes up to you, "Y/N," he says your name softly, "What's happened?"

You look down in shame, “Lord Matias…he promised he’d marry me. He kept saying he would and when I told him I was with child he-“ you let out a sob and Benedict immediately pulls you into his arms.

“It’ll be okay.”

You shake your head, mouth muffled by his shirt, “No, it won’t. Once my mother finds out, she’ll kick me out. I won’t have anywhere to go, no one will want me.”

“I’ll marry you,” his words are simply stated but carry a heavy weight.

You pull back, looking at Benedict with wide eyes, “Wh-What?”

He gulps and nods, “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Anthony looks at his brother sternly, "Brother-"

You shake your head, “No. Benedict you can’t. Your family-“

“Adores you, especially mother.” He steps forward to you and places his hands on your shoulders, “Do you really think I’ll let my dearest friend fall to ruin?” He looks at his eldest brother, "Anthony, we can't let her-"

He nods, "I know," he then looks at you, "If you would allow it, Benedict will marry you."

You look between the brothers, “What will people say?”

Benedict shrugs, “Nearly the entire Ton expects us to get married. It wouldn’t be much of a shock. Once the child is born, I’ll raise them like my own. No one would suspect a thing.”

You shake your head again, “I can’t ask this of you.”

“You’re not,” he gives you a soft reassuring smile, “Surely by now you’d know I’d do anything for you.” He looks at you with his blue eyes and you know he truly means it.

"The wedding would have to be soon then. If we have it any later, it'll raise suspicions-"

"You two could get married in the morning if you'd like," Anthony suggests and when you give him a look of shock he adds, "or not."

Benedict couldn't help but chuckle, "A month. I think a month is a good amount of time."

You can't help but sigh in relief, looking from Anthony to Benedict, "I can't thank you both enough," you pull Benedict into a hug. As he hugs you back, you don't see the knowing look Anthony is giving his younger brother. Benedict simply gives him a warning look before saying, "Everything will be alright, Y/N. We'll take care of everything."

#benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fic

[devildom-moss]

LOVE your works !!!!!! i adore how everytime u write, it just kind of turns into a very subtle character study (at least that's what i'm getting) it's vvv nice and the kind of writing im into <33

it's gmt for me so idk if i'm way past the cut off and this might be an odd request btw but a reader refusing lucifer and belphie's offer of a pact after yk... everything lol. it's up to u if the reader eventually accepts but i want it to hurt 🤌🏻

Thank you so much, that's so sweet. I hope you will see your request since I'm taking so long, and I hope you like it. I hope its got enough angst and hurt. I think they have two different types of hurt in it. Lucifer's has more of his pain and Belphie's has more of the reader's pain.

Rejecting their pact offers

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC)

(Slightly suggestive for Belphegor) (angst) (hurt; pain; implied physical and emotion harm to reader; slight yandere!Belphegor; Belphie is really creepy in this with some non-consent elements regarding touching/kissing)

Word Count: +2,000

Lucifer

You dreaded spending time alone with Lucifer, so you were displeased to receive a message from him – and even more unhappy that it had arrived, coincidentally, just as you had finished your assignment, when you were looking forward to being able to unwind. Your hopeful plans were crushed by an arrogant invite:

Lucifer: Meet me in my study once you’re free. Alone. Don’t keep me waiting.

Your first instinct was to pretend that you were busy all night and didn’t have time for whatever he wanted, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy your night if you were constantly on guard and worried about your leisure being interrupted. You could pretend you didn’t read it – after all, you turned your read receipts off specifically because of Lucifer. You could wash up and head straight to bed, sacrificing your free time for the sake of avoiding Lucifer. But avoiding him would only result in his nagging the following morning, and he had already ruined your night, so you might as well safeguard your morning peace by appeasing him. Hopefully whatever he wanted would be quick and painless. With a sigh, you reluctantly dragged yourself in the direction of his study.

You knocked at the door despite it being open ajar.

“MC, please enter,” Lucifer spoke up. He knew it was you; his brothers never knocked. You heard the shuffling of paper and the creaking of his desk chair as you opened the door fully. “You’re slightly earlier than I expected. I’m glad to know that your studies are not giving you any trouble – or at least, I suspect that’s why you’re here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you answered him shortly. He seemed flustered by your presence – which would be entertaining outside of the current situation. You stood in the doorway, watching Lucifer collect his papers and tidy his workspace before walking over. His looming figure inched closer, but you stood your ground. “Did you need something from me, Lucifer?”

“Right. Please take a seat. Can I pour you a glass of Demonus? I’ve acquired a new bottle from Diavolo, and I’ve been looking forward to trying it. I’d like to open it with you.” Lucifer walked over to his bar; pulled a bottle from the very back of the top shelf, hidden behind a taxidermy raven; and grabbed two clean glasses.

“No thank you. I’m fine.”

“Oh.” The sound left him so quietly, you weren’t certain he had intended for you to hear it. He put one of the glasses back, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and poured himself a drink. “Suit yourself.”

“Was that all?” Your eyes wandered the room. You hadn’t been in here for a while, and the last time was not particularly ideal.

“Of course not!” Lucifer looked away indignantly. “I wouldn’t call you to my study just for a drink. I have something important to discuss.”

“Alright.”

Lucifer took a sip of his drink before speaking again; his subtle delays – the slow draining of your time and patience – annoyed you. “You’ve impressed me over the last few months, and you’ve managed to make pacts with each of my brothers. I believe you’ve proven yourself worthy of a pact with me. That is, so long as we make one thing clear: if we form a pact, I own you. I don’t care who else you’re entangled with, you’ll be mine.”

“No. I’m good.” You shook your head to accentuate your response.

“What?” Every muscle in Lucifer’s body tightened, and the glass in his hand formed a superficial crack. His eyes widened. Shock and anger fed off each other as Lucifer sat there speechless.

“I don’t trust you,” you admitted. Somehow, you were thrilled to finally have the opportunity to tell Lucifer how you truly felt.

“After everything we’ve been through together?” Lucifer scoffed. He thought he had proven himself to you. He’d come so far since the last time he had tried to hurt you. He thought you were both past this – that you meant more to each other by now.

“No, Lucifer, after everything you did to me.” You sat up from the chair, rage rising with you. You had done nothing but try to help him and his family, and he had done nothing but hurt you. Even when he had saved you, it was usually for his own selfish reasons. By the time he had developed this strange infatuation with you, you had no trust left to give him. You had no foreseeable interest in furthering a relationship with him – especially not after the pompous way he asked you.

“MC, please, be reasonable. You know very well why I reacted the way I did at the time. You’re a part of my family now,” Lucifer pleaded with you desperately, trying to show you his version of reason. He grabbed your wrist and clung to you tightly, afraid to let you leave. “I won’t hurt you like that again. I promise. I adore you much too much.”

“Lucifer,” you half-sighed, half-winced, “let go. You’re hurting me right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer apologized. He quickly let go of you and brought his hand back to his chest, wide-eyed and terrified. “Please. . . I’ve never offered this to a human before.”

You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, it trembled on his vocal cords and shook his breath. It was his last resort to persuade you: to show you that he had never been this vulnerable, and he didn’t know how to handle your rejection. You knew he needed you to accept his offer – or at least consider it. Anything except rejection would be survivable.

“Please?” Lucifer begged softly; his cheeks flushed with shame.

“Just because I’m your first and you might have changed, it doesn’t mean I have to accept your offer.”

Belphegor

You could have sworn that you had locked your door before heading to bed last night – and no one could blame you for still feeling a bit cautious after the events that occurred a few weeks ago. Yet, you were disturbed by the creaking of your bedroom door – if it hadn’t been unlocked before, it certainly was now. The soft shuffle of exhausted demon feet creeped towards your bed. You gulped and inched closer to the wall, hoping your eyes would adjust, and you would see Mammon. Maybe he had a nightmare. Or maybe it was Asmo, and he was lonely. Maybe Beel got lost on his way back from the kitchen – and hopefully not on his way towards the kitchen.

“Sleepy,” a soft voice muttered, and your hope plummeted. Fear spiked, prickling up your spine as you felt Belphegor crawl into bed next to you. His hands pat the bed gently, searching for your body, feeling for your warmth. He whined, “MC, hold me.”

“Sleep in your own bed, please.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice trembled at the last word. Maybe it was fear, but maybe your own lips could hardly stomach the thought of begging a demon like Belphegor to let you sleep in peace. After everything he did, why did he think he had the right to break into your room in the middle of the night and crawl into your bed?

“Too far now, and I want to sleep with you.”

Against your will, Belphie wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder. He nuzzled into you, taking in your scent with a deep, calm inhale. A gentle hum left him.

It was infuriating, the way he relaxed against you while your body tensed with an overflow of negative emotions: anger, annoyance, anxiety. It wasn’t fair that he could drift peacefully to sleep, clinging to you, after everything he did. You wished he would stop – that he would let you go and return to his room, shutting the door on his way out. You’d make sure it was locked this time; you’d double check it and put a curse on it if you had to.

“I was thinking,” Belphegor hummed mindlessly without even opening his eyes. He practically sounded happy. “We should make a pact.”

Your blood boiled, and you stared at his restful form in the dark. “No, Belphegor. I don’t want a pact with you.”

“Why not?” he started, eyes shooting open to stare at you in disbelief for a brief moment before he remembered. He lowered his eyes and attempted to bury his face against your arm. “Don’t answer that.”

“You know why.” There was spite in your words – so bitter that Belphegor couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted to.

Suddenly he felt he had to do something, and before you could understand what was happening, Belphie had tackled you, pinning your hands down at your sides and straddling your lap. The dim glow of his amethyst eyes soaked up all the light in the room when he stared down at you. His grip on your hands wasn’t tight, but a familiar fear clawed at your throat, cutting back your desire to protest.

“Hush. Relax. I’m not a threat anymore. I love you. I want you. For fuck’s sake, if I was going to hurt you again, I would have done it already, so please, please don’t be scared. I need you. Come on, accept a pact with me, please?” The light from his eyes disappeared from your sight as he dipped down. You felt him kiss up your neck lazily, his warm breath tickling your skin. From anyone else, this might have felt loving and affectionate, but from Belphegor, it seemed cruel – as if he was kissing where his hands might have bruised like some panacea that came too late. “Please? Don’t make me keep begging.”

“Get off!” Your voice came back to you in a frightened yelp, still hushed in the dark of night. You struggled and writhed beneath him. The panic was setting in.

“You’re scared?” Belphie questioned, almost surprised by his effect on you. He pulled back to meet your eyes, but you had them shut tight. “Hey, look at me. I told you I loved you. Don’t be scared.”

“Let me go, Belphegor.” You lifted your arms slightly, only for him to force them back down.

“Form a pact with me,” he insisted. He kissed just above your collarbone, allowing his lips to linger on your skin. “If we had a pact, you could control me. I can feel your pulse pounding; I know you’re scared, but if we make a pact, you’ll never have to be afraid of me again.”

“I’ll scream, Belphegor. I swear,” you warned.

“Shh,” Belphegor let go of one of your hands to cover your mouth. He held your gaze with a delusional sweetness. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, praying for someone to barge into your room and end this. Belphegor cooed, “I promise I won’t ever hurt you again. I know that will take time to prove, but I need you now. I need that connection to you. I crave it, and I can’t let my brothers be the only ones to stake their claim on you. And until you want me and trust me, a pact will give you reassurance. You’ll never have to worry about being alone with me. If I act out, I’ll be under your spell – in more ways than one. I just want to keep you safe. Can’t you understand that? Make me yours.”

You knew he had a point about control, but it didn’t make you want him. Still, when he removed his hand from your mouth, the fear and anxiety that remained spoke for you. “. . . Fine.”

“Yay.” Belphie giggled and kissed you sleepily, caressing along your cheek and neck. He hummed and stared down at you, trapped beneath him. With your eyes finally more accustomed to the darkness, you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks as he bit his lower lip. “You know, I’m not so tired anymore. Let’s stay up all night and make the pact more official. I’ll even let you mark me.”

#anon #ask #requests #gn!mc #lucifer #belphegor #obey me short fic #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #yandere belphegor #obey me angst #not going to lie. I feel like the last fic I posted with Raphael had a little more angst than this but I tried.

[jinnxedy]

Do you take requests for your writings?

If not, just ignore this...

I read one of your headcannons about Abby that says that she treats the stuff animals she gifted to her s/o like if they were their children.

One day, she comes home in a bad mood after a stressful day and takes out her anger in reader and make a comment about it.

"Stop treating them like that. They're not real"

But of course, she apologized and had a happy ending.

Take your time and take care 🫶

Hii, this is such a good request, thank you for suggesting this 💕 I hope you like it and I hope it meets your expectations!

Disclaimer: not much, just some cursing, mentions of clickers and such? Don't know If this is considered angst with happy ending, but I doubt it. English not being my first language, idk lmao I think that's it.

Abby wasn't having it today. Everything and everyone irritated her, the patrols, clickers, Isaac being on her ass every second, could people be more annoying today?

She doesn't know what's going on with her, she couldn't talk to anyone without making a snarky, backhanded comment. Don't get her wrong, she feels so bad for it, but she doesn't have time for apologies. It's too much for her, she says.

Walking back to her shared room with you, she could feel her own body giving up. Her legs weak, head pounding, shoulders tense, jaw clenched, you get the gist.

She just wants, no, needs some rest.

As soon as she opens the door, she's met with the sight of you laying in bed, plushies all around you. You were reading one of Abby's books, and honestly they were too boring for your taste. It's not like you had other things to focus on. You had one of your favorite stuffed animals in hand, holding it for some sort of comfort. Truth is, you've missed Abby, not being able to see her all day was torture.

You diverted your gaze away from the book to Abby, a genuine smile quickly painted onto your face. Dropping the book back at the nightstand and rushing to her side, you hug her.

And listen, Abby loves your hugs, but she's had a long day. The sudden and unexpected contact made her grunt in pain, pulling back from the hug unintentionally. Her eyebrows scrunching a bit as she closed her eyes and sighed in slight annoyance.

You were hurt to say the least, she's never reacted like this to your touch, you've never seen her so hostile towards you.

"Abby... is everything okay, did I do something wrong?" Your voice soft, gentle, and careful. You were scared of getting a bad reaction out of her.

It was so weird, the way she just dismissed your question and went right to bed. You hummed quietly to yourself, almost in disbelief of this girl's behavior.

I mean, the fuck?

Abby huffed at the feeling of one of your stuffed animals poking her back as she laid down back in the bed, rolling her eyes and throwing it across the room. You stare at her wide eyed, a scolding look on your face

"What the hell was that for?" You didn't raise your voice, but you were assertive, you needed to know what was going on with her today. "Why did you throw the poor guy? He didn't deserve that" You said jokingly, hoping she knew you wanted to light the mood up a little.

Still, Abby failed to get the small joke. "Stop treating them like that. They're not real" You didn't fail to notice her bitter tone, taken aback by it.

You weren't offended by the words, after all they weren't directed towards you, but the way she spoke and treated you earlier, that made it for you.

"I don't know what the fuck's wrong with you today? You're being such an asshole to me, I didn't do anything. Apologize, talk to me, do something... anything." You sounded hurt, your face filled with worry.

Just then, Abby realized how she treated you. You didn't deserve this, what was she thinking?

She sat on the bed, thinking of what to say, only inaudible and incomprehensible apologies coming out. She was rambling, fumbling over her own words, only making her more frustrated.

You sighed and sat down beside her, putting your head on her shoulder and holding her hand, offering comfort and support. Abby took a moment before talking again, enjoying your soft touches here and there, not failing to calm her down. This is just what she needed, your soft fingers running up and down her arms and hands, you were her own personal haven.

"I'm so, so sorry. Please, forgive me" Her voice sounded meek, vulnerable, her hands looking for your own, needing you to make her feel better.

You saw the desperate look on her eyes, and you felt so bad for the poor girl.

You just held her all night, running your fingers through her hair, kissing all over her face, anything to lift her spirits up. Abby loved it, the way you caressed her, held her with such care and love, your delicate fingers tenderly grazing all over her skin.

Abby doesn't know what she would do without you, you complete her perfectly.

#tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #tlou 2 #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #tlou2 #tlou #abby x masc!reader #abby x fem!reader

[drewsephrry]

memories

harry styles x reader

inspired by: Memories-Conan Gray

warnings: alcohol consumption, yelling, crying (idk if it counts as a warning) cuss words

words: 2.7k

It was a rainy autumn night. She had a random movie playing in the background just to comfort her. She hated rain with passion. She hated that she was all alone and the only thing she could do to distract herself from it was look at old pictures.

Pictures from her childhood that were much too nostalgic for her, trying really hard to remember the name of the girl braiding her hair. Pictures from her vacation with her best friends from the previous summer, matching flower crowns and seashell necklaces on display. Pictures with her previous lover, that if she saw just two months ago she would cry her heart out but instead she smiled and reminisced about the tattoo he had let her draw on his skin shown in the photo.

It was a random Thursday night, the couple was chilling with their friends when Zayn told them that he had just acquired a tattoo gun. Harry was thrilled with the idea of putting more ink on his skin and even more so when Niall suggested that he let Y/N draw one on him.

Y/N had almost immediately shook her head in denial but Harry begged and begged until she sighed, defeated.

“Harry, you do know you're going to be stuck with it forever?” She warned.

“Yes, my love. Stop worrying about everything.” He tries to reassure her once more.

“But H, what if I mess it up? Or-or even worse we break up and you have it on your skin for the rest of your life?” She started asking with shakily hands, stuttering and failing to breathe properly.

“Y/N, honey, breathe. You'll be fine. Okay and what if you mess it up? That would just make it even more special to me. I love you and I completely trust you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. “I'm not planning on breaking up with you anytime soon, maybe even ever. Unless you do and you're trying to let me down slowly, I don't see anything wrong with you tatting me.” He reassures her once again and she sighs, nodding. Harry smiles widely and pecks her lips, before pulling his long hair up in a bun.

After sterilizing the equipment and Zayn showing her how the gun works, she was ready. She didn't feel like it, but Harry squeezed her hand three times, their way of expressing their love to each other without actually saying anything.

She asked him multiple times, as the tattoo gun hit his skin if he was in any pain and if he needed anything, but Harry told her repeatedly he was fine and was praising her for her light touch.

After just a few minutes, the sketch, she had done on a random notebook Zayn had in his apartment, was brought to life.

A palm tree on the backside on his upper arm was delicately outlined and filled by her. She grabbed the handheld mirror that Zayn gave her and held it so Harry could see the work she did.

“Do you like it? If you don't, we can find something to cover it up with and I'll pay for it.” She suggested immediately, worried because he hadn't spoken yet. But the truth was he was mesmerized by it.

“I love it. It's so simple but yet done so beautifully. Thank you, my love. Thank you so so much.” He said kissing her lips. She smiled and sighed once again.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Well, you know what they say. Tat for tit!” He exclaimed jokingly, trying to lift her shirt when Y/N pushed his hand away giggling.

“You're such an idiot!”

Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. She stopped gazing at her phone and another knock was heard. She got up from her couch cautiously. It was really late and it was pouring outside. Who could it be?

She grabbed the pepper spray from her handbag, as another knock was heard. She clutched her phone, close to her chest, ready to call the police.

She looked through the peephole and saw the one person she didn't expect to.

Harry was standing there, his hair sticking on his forehead and his clothes soaked.

She quickly unlocked the door and gasped.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” She asked, worried and confused.

“Need to talk with you, angel.” He slurred, an obvious sign he was drunk. He was pouting and his glossy, his green eyes were bloodshot telling her he was crying. His cologne was overcome by the smell of tequila. Y/N couldn't do anything else than open the door wider and gestured for him to come in.

She closed the door behind her and walked to her kitchen to pour some water for him, in hopes that he would sober up a little. He followed her like a wet and lost puppy that she couldn't turn away.

He takes a gulp of the water she hands him and smiles at her. She looked so cute and tiny compared to him, her hair was a little longer and her skin was still tanned from summer.

“I love you so much Y/N/N. I never wanted to hurt you.” He slurred again.

“But you did, H.” She couldn't tolerate standing there and listening to him pour his heart out when he broke her own a few months ago.

Y/N had started getting better. Getting over him. She was considering starting dating again. But seeing him like this made it so hard for her to think. Think about how fucked what he did and said was.

“Please, my baby, my love, listen to me. I made a huge mistake.” He was pulling his hair and trying to balance on his own two feet. He stumbled and fell to the floor, Y/N immediately reaching for him to make sure he was alright.

“I have missed you. I can't sleep without you. I barely eat anymore. I-I…don’t know what to do without you.” He confessed, tearing up. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat with his back on one of the kitchen cabinets.

Y/N was nodding, feeling upset and guilty she made him feel like this.

“H-Harry…I don't know what to say. Please, don't cry. You can stay with me tonight. We'll be fine.” She bent down to be eye level with him, comforting him and hugging him tightly. Neither one of them could deny how safe they felt in that moment, in each other's arms.

Y/N knew she was making a huge mistake, something her therapist won't be able to help with, something her friends cannot support and mostly she cannot expect any one of them to be there to pick up her pieces when everything would break down again.

Harry was led to her bedroom and she helped him lay down, removing his articles of clothing that he claimed felt like lava on his skin.

“Why were you all alone? Don't you still hate the rain?” He asked, getting under the covers of her bed, his eyes slightly closed. Y/N nodded and walked towards her side of the bed.

Y/N laid beside him, wrapping her arms around his back and to his front. He squeezed them three times, before quiet snores were the only thing heard.

How could she say goodbye to him again, when he just spent an entire night with her?

That morning Y/N woke up to an empty bed. She walked out to her living room, to see that she was all alone.

He had left her.

She walked to the kitchen with an ache in her chest and saw a plate with a stack of pancakes with maple syrup on her kitchen counter for her to indulge in.

She ended up spending her whole day crying and watching ‘The notebook’.

The next day, when Y/N's therapy appointment was scheduled, she told her about the night she spent with Harry, how she felt safe and for once, after a few months, slept like a baby and through the whole night.

Her therapist scolded her about her poor choices and talked to her about stepping forward.

A few days passed since Y/N's and Harry's last encounter. Y/N was getting ready for her best friend's birthday party when a knock was heard on her door. She yelled that she'll be right there, thinking it was the delivery guy with her food.

She grabbed her wallet and ran to the door with a wide smile on her face. Although when she opened the door, it was wiped away quickly. She swallowed and looked at Harry's green eyes.

“I missed holding you.” He slurred. Y/N was already running late to help her best friend with the party preparations. She was planning on getting there first out of everyone, to blow balloons and hang the garlands she had bought. But her meal hadn't arrived in time and now, this was happening.

She opened the door wide and he entered, he walked and sat down on her couch with a thump. He giggled at the sound he made and got quickly distracted by the show on her TV.

Y/N groaned and tried to keep in her mind what her therapist, mom and best friend told her.

“It's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning, over and over again.”

“Hey, come look at this! Monica got stung by a jellyfish!” He giggled, getting comfortable on her couch.

She cursed under her breath, thinking how he would fuck up her progress in getting over him. Now twice. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and walked in her bedroom to call her best friend.

“I'm really sorry, but I won't make it tonight.” She lied.

“What? Y/N, it's my birthday! You can't miss it.” Her best friend had furrowed her eyebrows, even if Y/N couldn't see it.

“I love you so much, I'll explain everything another time. And I am really and truly sorry.” She apologized again.

“Don't tell me he's there again.” Her best friend groaned and Y/N sighed.

“Y/N/N, he's no good for you. He's going to hurt you again. He's going to keep coming back since you're not turning him away. This is a never ending cycle, babe. Think about all the trauma he put you through. You need to put him in the past and move on.”

Y/N sighed defeated. Her best friend was right.

“Again, I'm really sorry.” She apologized one last time, before hanging up the phone. She walked back to the living room, where he was laying on the couch watching as Ross yelled ‘We were on a break!’. Harry chuckles at that and looks up to find you standing a few feet away from him.

“Care to join me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, making space for her and she smiled sadly as she nodded.

“Let me take my heels off really quick and I'll be right there.” She assured him, going inside her bedroom again, untying the straps from her heels and sitting down on her bed to catch her breath. She felt like throwing up. She felt her chest heating and that she was unable to breathe.

One, two.

One, two.

In, out.

In, out.

She was calm again.

The doorbell was heard, so she got up and out of her bedroom to find Harry already at the door.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” His slurred British accent alarming you. You ran quickly at the door and pushed Harry away from it.

“I'm really sorry about him, he's not feeling well. Thank you for your service!” Y/N tipped the now scared delivery guy, grabbing the bag of food from his hand and closing the door quickly. She pressed her back on it and sighed loudly.

“Don't be upset with me. He just wanted to get in your pants. I was trying to protect you. I always will.” Harry's eyes filled with tears once again. A laugh track was heard and she sighed again.

“It's okay, H. I'm fine. We're fine. Let's go eat!” She grabbed his hand and he smiled, wiping his eyes.

They spent the rest of the night cuddling on her couch.

The next day, he was gone again. She opened her phone to see multiple texts and calls from her best friend, telling her not to worry and that she would forgive her for bailing on her.

Y/N ignored all of them, including her therapist's email to confirm their weekly appointment. She knew that she would be disappointed to hear that she's taking more and more steps back.

A week later, she still hadn't heard a word from Harry and she waited for his appearance on her doorstep.

And there he was, a loud knock on the door startling her from the cookies she decided to bake as a stress reliever.

She ran to the door and opened it to find him there. He looked a little bit better than the last times he visited her, although he still reeked of tequila.

“Hello, my love.” He said, approaching her to kiss her lips. But she pulled away and shook her head. She opened the door wider for him to enter. He did and walked to the couch, sitting down and removing his shoes, already getting comfortable. Y/N couldn't take it anymore.

“We need to talk. I don't care if you're sober or drunk as fuck, but this has got to stop.” She said upset.

“What's bothering you baby? I can kiss it better.” He giggled and made grabby hands at her.

“Harry, I am serious. You can't keep doing this. There's no good reason to believe that we could ever exist again. I cannot be your friend. I definitely cannot be your lover. And I cannot be the reason we hold back each other from actually falling in love with someone else.” Y/N felt lighter after telling him exactly how she felt.

Harry felt a lump growing on his throat, his eyeline was gathering tears and he felt his chest tightening. Suddenly his head was clearer and he wasn't under the influence of alcohol completely.

“I just…you can't keep showing up, especially drunk, ruining everything. Expecting me that I would just take you back. You fucking traumatized me Harry. You broke my heart. And I'm trying so hard to forget you, to put you in the past and you're not letting me do that. You're just too busy playing the victim and acting like you are the one who's hurt, like you're the one that has a specialist taking care of you and your feelings. Can you just for once listen to me and stay the fuck away from me? Just…stay in my memories.”

She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, she didn't even notice she was crying. Harry looked down on the floor, sniffling. Y/N wiped her tears and sat down beside him.

“Since you came all the way over here, I'll let you stay. You can stay as long as it takes, but this is the last time. When you're going to leave, you're taking all of your books that you have left, your coat that’s still in my closet and that good cologne that you have left in my bathroom and it haunts me. It's still on my clothes and pretty much everything that I own and it makes me…feel like dying. I mean, I'm barely surviving as it is.”

Harry was feeling like his heart was being stabbed over and over again. He hadn't realized how much damage he had done to Y/N. He didn't want her to feel that way anymore.

He got off from her couch and walked to her bedroom grabbing his coat, the cologne from the bathroom and gathered the books from her bookcase, putting them inside a tote bag, which was also his.

“I'm not gonna bother you anymore. I-I am really sorry for the damage I did. I never meant to hurt you. I love you way too much and…I know what I'm saying is not gonna change anything but I needed to get it off my chest. I wish you only the best, my lo-Y/N. And I'll always be there for you, if you ever need me. But I'll just stay in your memories.”

He kissed her lips once. Twice. Three times.

When he pulled away both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, their eyes were red and their lips swollen from the kisses they shared.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Harry whispers. “For now.” He smiled and Y/N nodded.

“Goodbye H. Take care.”

A/N: just a lil valentines day gift lol, this was heartwrenching to write, hope you all enjoyed and cried with me

#harry styles #one direction #harry styles story #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles imagine