blank canvas. (2)
after offering a painful ultimatum to finally be enough for him, things ultimately get worse as he decides between keeping you or losing you as the only resolution.
pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader
genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract
tags/warnings. strong language, defloration (kinda), explicit smut, undertones of manipulation and gaslighting, toxic relationship, undertones of cheating
notes. 11.2k wc! thanks for the love on bc1, i didn't expect it to gain traction at all but tyty. last part will come soon, but that will be the final chapter to this mini-series.
part 1 | part 3
The ride back home was uncomfortable.
It wasn’t because you had promised to give yourself to him that night, but rather because his uncharacteristic silence was not what you had expected after delivering your ultimatum. You already proposed a wonderful solution to his needs, so why was he acting like you were the one being ridiculous? This was why you hated it whenever Sukuna chose silence over open communication, as it left you a hard time guessing about what was running through his mind. His expression didn’t offer any clues either, because he did pretty well at concealing his emotions behind a facade of indifference.
When you said you would do it with him, you meant it. But what did he think of it?
The sharp wind cut through your skin, the roar of his motorbike deafening your ears as your boyfriend accelerated his vehicle upon entering the tunnel. The vibrant yellow lights offered a cinematic view, tempting you to imagine yourself embracing the wind with open arms, though you knew better than to do so. Instead, you held onto him tightly, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning forward as he sped through the empty lane.
It was nearing midnight, and the sparse traffic allowed Sukuna to indulge in one of his habits: riding his bike in the late hours of the night through this particular tunnel and onto the highway. You knew this ritual helped him clear his mind since it offered a rush of danger that sharpened his focus on the road. His choice to take this route tonight also only confirmed to you that he was grappling with internal thoughts. The last time he rode this fast was when your parents made you choose between them and him, slapping it in his face that he was and would never be welcomed in your family.
To be honest, it frightened you. The speed at which he was riding was dangerous for both of you. Moreover, his bike was a YZF-R1, although street-legal, it was still a high-performance sport bike more suited for the track. It required agile and precise handling with its 1000cc engine. Yet, no other vehicle seemed more fitting for Sukuna than this.
Whatever was on his mind, he didn’t care to let you know. You two didn’t really speak throughout the ride while you clung to him like a backpack, praying in your head that you two wouldn’t get into an accident. Thankfully enough, he did safely take you home as you arrived at your shared apartment at exactly midnight.
“Please don’t ride like that again,” you muttered as he helped you out of his motorbike. “You could’ve gotten us killed.”
His fingers then reached to unclasp your helmet, pulling it up to reveal your face. “Well, we’re still alive.”
You looked at his face despite his best effort to avoid yours, standing centimeters apart while he switched off the engine. He didn’t return your gaze as though he was drowned by guilt. Should you speak at this? Or should you let him do it first?
“Baby.” After a minute or so, it was your boyfriend who sighed and finally gave in, pulling you close and resting his forehead against yours. He kept his eyes closed even when he was cupping your cheeks. “You don’t have to do this.”
Yes, you certainly shouldn’t. You didn’t have to do things unwillingly, but that wouldn’t change the fact that this on-going issue was putting a strain on your relationship and this would be your last shot at trying to salvage it. And you couldn’t have him looking for sensual gratification from anyone else other than you, so what other option did you have, really?
“I want to do it.”
“Not if you’re forcing yourself like this.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m forcing myself?”
“Your face tells me you are,” replied he, staring at your face in defeat. “So, let’s not—”
“What, and let this issue haunt us over and over?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head adamantly. “This has to be done. I need to experience it so I’ll finally understand.”
Understand what? His face almost spelled out those words, but he chose not to say anything of the sort and instead leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Alright. I’ll make it memorable.”
— —
Easier said than done, of course. You kept overthinking about whether your performance would be satisfactory to him given that you didn’t have enough experience to learn anything at all, aside from the make out sessions that you did once in a blue moon. Around thirty minutes of your time was spent hyperanalyzing your situation in the shower, while the other half of it was spent doing a little more than your nightly routines. Since Sukuna liked powdery scents, you placed a good effort in applying lavender-scented oil and perfume on every inch of your body. You also shaved any unwanted hair, especially on all the intimate places you knew he would be seeing. And by the time you were done, you stepped out of the bathroom blooming like a fresh flower, wrapped in nothing but a thin towel that hugged your womanly figure.
It didn’t feel right at all. It didn’t feel good knowing that you were preparing yourself like that, when these things should only happen on the first night after your wedding. It didn’t feel great that you were going to lose your virginity to a man who had not even proposed to you. This wasn’t even your honeymoon, but you had to pretend like it was.
Did Sukuna feel the same?
He wasn’t lying in bed when you walked out of the bathroom. Instead, he had just returned from outside—shirtless, wearing his favorite gray sweatpants, and holding a box of condoms and a tube of lube in his hand. It was clear he had made a quick visit to the convenience store nearby and got the essentials for your first night.
Immediately, he eyed your towel-wrapped body with restrained lust, clearing his throat as he walked towards the nightstand. “You look nice.”
Really? Did he really have to make this more awkward than it already was?
“Thank you,” was all you could softly reply. It was funny how he pretended to be busy placing the box and tube above the bedside table instead of lunging at you like a desperate man. But because you wanted to get this over with, you were the one who approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist, and touching the firmness of his abs. For someone who had zero experience, you were definitely trying hard enough and that should please him. “You have to help me out here, my love. Guide me.”
When Sukuna turned around, your heart started racing. Of excitement? Maybe. Of anxiety? Perhaps. He made it better though when he finally caved in and looked straight into your eyes, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before lifting your chin with his hand. “You smell extra nice, too,” he added, leaning close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your face.
You were feeling it now. The equal lust. The carnal desire. The feeling of his sweet kisses, which he made true as soon as he crashed his lips onto yours. His kisses usually ranged from tender to rough, but this time, it was an altogether different type of kiss. It was passionate and demonstrative, as if showing you exactly what he had been wanting to do to you the first time you got together. This must be the result of being celibate in over a year. He was clearly a man deprived of sexual pleasure, and you were responsible for it. You actually turned him into a monk.
Now, he wasn’t holding anything back anymore. With his hand on your nape, he deepened the kiss to the point where you could feel his tongue exploring your mouth. You followed whatever he was doing like a good girl, like a very good girl, as he completely devoured your mouth with his. It didn’t take long for him to advance his kisses in other places too, being your jawline his next target, and then your neck as he feathered kisses around the soft flesh, leaving marks that would need a few days to be concealed.
Because his arms were tight around your waist, yours were locked around his neck. Where else should you be putting them? What does the girl usually do in this situation? You tried not to think much of it and listened to your own body while your boyfriend was sucking the skin around your collarbone. At first, your hand traced his toned chest, then it moved southwards to feel his abs, and further down to his…
“Y-You’re hard.” Your eyes widened as you felt his growing erection behind the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t your first time seeing his boner, but it was the first time you touched it with your own hand. It was the first time you had your palm stroking his length, swallowing hard as you realized just how hard and thick he was.
“It wants to be inside you,” he whispered through your mouth, kissing you back again, “so bad, baby.”
Gosh. Your knees felt weak and you two hadn’t even really started yet. How much more when he starts putting that thing of his inside you? You were breathing hard, trying to catch air as your boyfriend continued to lap his tongue with yours, guiding your hand to continue fondling his wood while it grew bigger the more stimulated it got. By letting you touch his hardened crotch together with his own, you realized that you had just unlocked a newfound fetish of yours. “D-Do you… do you think about doing it with me often?”
He bit your lower lip before pulling away, animalistic eyes sending you into an orbit of pleasure. “Do you mean if I touch myself to the thought of you a lot?” he teased, chuckling darkly at the obvious heat on your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel excited at how vulgar he could be with his words. “I do jack off a lot, angel. And it’s always you in my mind.”
You didn’t even have the time to melt from his words, because before you knew it, he was already peeling the towel off your body to reveal your completely naked figure. Obviously, your first reaction was to get shy—with your heated cheeks, your inability to look him in the eyes, your little efforts in covering your breasts and crotch, but he made sure to pull your hands away while keeping his eyes on you. “…Don’t stare.”
Sukuna, however, didn’t listen. His dark eyes scanned every curve of your body, particularly around your chest area before he sighed and threw his head back. “Fuck,” he cussed under his breath. “You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t believe no other punk has seen you like this.”
Your confidence grew little by little because of his praises. “But isn’t that a good thing?”
“For sure.” He almost laughed at his own words, more so in disbelief, before he reached out to touch your bosom. “No one can touch you like this, either, baby.”
“That’s—”
“Hmm?” Your boyfriend smirked at your reaction. While his other hand went to squeeze your breast, the other traveled to your bum, squeezing the cheek with equal fervor. “Can I have a taste of you, baby?”
He fondled your breasts with both hands now, massaging the rounded mass like they were his property. You had to admit to yourself that the feeling of being touched actually transcended your expectations. Or maybe it was only because of how erotic it was, but you couldn’t deny how turned on you were as his veiny, manly hands cupped your bosom.
And as soon as you nodded and permitted him to ‘taste’ you, he took no time in gently pushing you down the mattress, allowing you to lay at a comfortable position under him and his wanton stare. Taste you? He was more like eating you, when he pinned you against the mattress and sucked the skin on your chest. At first, his tongue rolled along your cleavage, inching closer and closer to your right breast while he had his hand squeezing the left. Your body naturally gravitated towards him as you arched your back so he could have better access to your chest. Not only your chest, but also your crotch as he started grinding his clothed manhood in between your folds.
“Mm…”
Sukuna’s mouth was on your breast now, suckling on your flesh and playing his tongue around your nipple. You couldn’t tell if it was pleasurable or painful because his tongue felt ticklish on your skin, but the suction definitely was an entirely different feeling. Both weren’t bad, anyway. They were just new to you. But even if they were foreign, you were curious and all the more interested, studying every little thing he was doing with your body and trying to make mental notes out of it.
Maybe you should have watched porn. That way, you could have been more aware of the step-by-step process of having sex. Who knew there were steps to follow at all? You didn’t think that foreplay could draw this much delay in your session because all you thought was that he was going to insert his cock straight inside you as soon as he saw you naked.
With all the touching, fondling, and kissing… what were you supposed to do? He was doing all the work here.
“Baby,” you spoke softly, staring at the ceiling, “C-Can I… touch you?”
Instead of pulling away, his mouth latched onto your left boob, giving it the same attention before moving south. “Not yet.”
When he said that, you didn’t expect his hand to land on your crotch. Your heart was thumping at an irregular rhythm as you felt his fingers moving in circles around your bud, playing with your clit before spreading your folds apart. “Nghh—!” you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, eyes widening at the sound of your voice, but your boyfriend shushed you by placing a peck on your lips before spreading your legs into a V.
“You’re so wet,” he said, pointing out the obvious as he positioned himself in between your legs, spreading your labia to reveal your entrance. Something about the situation made you increasingly self-conscious, but his undeniably hungry gaze kept you from covering your most sensitive area. It seemed like he was enjoying the sight of your pussy, especially with how wet and ‘untouched’ it was. “Your pussy’s so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, lowering his face closer to the area, “Can’t wait to put my dick inside it.”
You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue in between your folds. No, you couldn’t even think straight after he started teasing your vagina, alternating between flicking his tongue around your bud to french kissing your entrance. His tongue was so deep in your cavern that you were raising your hips involuntarily, going insane from the pleasure it sent your body. Your hands even gripped the sheets and your back arched into a C as you held back from moaning like a wild animal. At some point, the slurping sounds and the feeling of his mouth kissing your vagina had your legs shaking.
Though, you could ask yourself: what turned you on the most? Was it him actually eating your pussy or just the idea of him doing it?
And just when you thought he was done, he replaced his mouth by inserting a finger inside your cunt, garnering a much louder whimper out of you. “B-Baby!”
“Does it hurt?” he asked, eyes locked with yours as he slowly moved his middle finger in and out. “It’s so tight.”
“It hurts…” You nodded, feeling his finger moving in circles inside your cunt as though he was trying to get a feel of your walls, measuring the tightness and such.
He kissed you for a good minute. “Relax, angel. Don’t clench too much.”
Clench? You didn’t even know you were doing such a thing. “How to…?”
“Just relax.” Sukuna placed a hand on your abdomen, pressing it down while he was inserting yet another finger inside of you. “This’ll help you prepare so it won’t hurt as much later.”
Now, you were goddamn nervous. What did he mean it wouldn’t hurt as much? Because you were overthinking the pain of having him his actual cock inside of you. If you couldn’t even bear having his two fingers inside you, how much more with his clearly thick shaft? It was ridiculous to feel both anxious and yet aroused at the same time. Anxious, because you knew he could rip you open. Aroused, because his fingers were currently doing a great job at hitting your most sensitive spot. Whatever it was that he was reaching, it was certainly sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body.
His fingers continued to move. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Around. When he pulled his digits out, he sucked the juices on them, tasting every drip of your essence from his fingers. “Sweet.”
Were you? You started to get curious at how he tasted, too. Sweet? Salty? Bitter? You seemed to be moving on autopilot when you pulled yourself up and sat in bed on your knees. “Your turn?”
You asked the question as if you knew what you were doing, which was why Sukuna found it adorable and humorous at the same time. He did help you pull down the sweatpants that had been covering his erection for what felt like eternity, only to reveal a monstrous size that sprung out of the garment.
Holy fuck was all you could say.
He stood at the edge of the bed, a devilish smirk displayed on his saintly face as he saw the length of his cock compared to your face. You obviously hadn’t seen many cocks in your lifetime to be able to compare his size, but in your eyes, he was definitely big. He was girthy. He was lengthy. He was veiny. Meaty.
“Wanna suck it for me, baby?” he encouraged, pumping his shaft while looking at you. Fuck. “Open your mouth.”
You did as told, wrapping a hand at the base of his length while placing his tip on your mouth. You pressed your tongue flat on the surface of his tip, rolling your tongue around the head as if it were a lollipop. Was that what you were supposed to do?
“Eyes on me.” His voice deepened an octave. And it was also raspier.
Why did he want you to look up at him? It was already embarrassing.
“I said, eyes on me, angel.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to lock eyes with his darkened ones. Damn. No wonder girls were desperate to see him in his shop every single day. This was probably what they had been daydreaming about. “Suck my cock.”
In your head, you became a slut. In reality, you were still a shy, inexperienced virgin who didn’t know what to do. You relied on his instructions and looked at his expressions to know if you were doing a good job and to see what he liked and didn’t like. He definitely liked it when you sucked the head, liked it even more when you started to let him go deeper in your mouth, and surely liked it a hell lot better when you gagged after his cock hit the back of your throat. But in spite of the string of saliva that left your mouth after gagging from his cock, his arousal only grew harder, this time holding your hair in his fist as he began thrusting his hip forward. You were bobbing your head at a rhythm that satisfied him, feeling the stretch on your scalp as he tightened his grip on your hair.
“Tighten your mouth around it,” he instructed, fucking your mouth senselessly like hitting your throat was driving him nuts. Your eyes were already filling up with tears because of your urge to gag again, but you didn’t think it would be a good idea to stop now while he was just starting to pleasure himself.
This was the first time in your life to give someone a blowjob, and you weren’t sure what to make of that experience. It personally didn’t give you pleasure, but you liked hearing his desperate moans. You liked hearing him curse and get vulgar with his words. You liked seeing him get rough. His taste, on the other hand, was somewhat a different experience. Since you were only sucking his flesh, it was a tad bit salty at first contact but didn’t taste anything much after tongue got used to the skin around his shaft. Perhaps his cum would have a stronger flavor, though it looked like he had no plans in releasing his load into your mouth as he pulled his member out.
“Fuck it,” he grunted, gently pushing you back and spreading your legs wide open again, “I wanna feel your pussy so bad. Can I fuck you raw, babe?”
All those condoms, and he wanted to have you raw?
“But… I don’t wanna get pregnant.”
His face was full of assurance, shaking his head and denying any chance of knocking you up. “You won’t be. I’ll pull out, I just… I have to feel you raw the first time. I have to.”
“Okay…”
You were nervous as hell. You had butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat you couldn’t silence. You had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was here, the reality of it was too overwhelming. Your mind yet again raced with a whirlwind of doubts and insecurities, and every nerve on your body seemed to be on high alert while you watched him getting occupied with rubbing his entire length with lube, ensuring a smooth entrance inside you.
He was nervous too, right? You couldn’t be the only one. You couldn’t be.
You just wanted everything to be perfect. To show him how much you cared. To feel that you were enough. But the thought was paralyzing. Tonight was more than just physical intimacy; it was a step forward in your relationship, a moment of connection you wanted so badly to cherish. This first intimate encounter should be filled with love, respect, and mutual understanding.
But what if after this, he’d come to realize that you weren’t the one? What if he’d get disappointed and tell you that you weren’t worth it? What if he’d leave you for someone else who could pleasure him better? What if, after you had given yourself to him, no one else would ever appreciate you anymore?
You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted to feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, the intimacy of your connection. You wanted to explore this uncharted territory with him, to dive headfirst into the unknown and discover what lay on the other side. But were you really ready for this? Did you truly want this? Would it be everything you had imagined, or would you regret losing your virginity to him?
The fear of inadequacy gnawed at your confidence as Sukuna positioned himself back in between you, his tip rubbing at your slit a couple times before he finally sunk it into your entrance.
“Haaa—!”
“Shh. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”
“N-No, I—!”
It felt like your walls were being stretched so painfully, like your flesh was being torn open in the most agonizing way. This was not the kind of pain you pictured out when he put his member inside. Sukuna even tried to grab hold of your hips to keep you steady, but you were withdrawing your hips back, wanting nothing but for him to remove his cock.
“It hurts… It hurts… please, stop. Please!”
“Baby, I’m trying to be gentle—”
“I SAID STOP!”
Both of your eyes widened at the same time, and that was the only time you two were ever in sync. He was clearly shocked by your outburst, while you yourself were surprised at how you raised your voice at him. Neither of you expected that situation. As a result, he did pull away and completely withdrew himself from you.
Frustration was evident on his visage and he couldn’t even hide it anymore. “Fuck this,” he spat in exasperation, taking a deep breath as he reached to slip his sweatpants back on. “I knew it.”
“No, I…” You swallowed. “It just… You kinda forced it, I wasn’t ready.”
“I forced it, really? I forced you?” His laugh was out of complete disbelief. “I never forced you into anything, angel. I’ve asked you since the beginning if this is really what you want.” He took a pause, a very uncomfortable one, before he went on murmuring, “It was just my tip and you’re overreacting like this. I’m not even halfway in.”
His agitation had finally awakened you to your senses, realizing that you did end up doing what you were scared of doing. You ruined the moment. You were so caught up in your bubble of negative thoughts that you had once again failed to fulfill what you were supposed to do. No wonder he was aggravated, now sitting away from you and wearing his clothes as if telling you that he was done. Done being blue balled by his own girlfriend. Done expecting something he was never really bound to have.
You reached out to touch his arm. “Baby, I’m sorry… I just got scared, but we can still—”
“Still do it?” he continued your sentence by ironically cutting you off, “No, the fuck, I won’t. I’m not in the mood anymore.”
His reaction brought tears to your eyes, because the way he was acting stung your fragile heart. You didn’t mean to ruin anything. More importantly, you didn’t wish for everything to just turn out like this. “I-I’m sorry. Let me try again, please.”
The weakness of your voice seemed to have softened him, becoming calmer and more composed after a few minutes of contemplation, but he still held his ground when he massaged his temple and sighed. “Let’s just not push it, Y/N.” He looked at your eyes, with hurt and rejection reflecting on them. “Even if you say you wanna do it, you think I can’t see it in your face that you’re not really into it? You’re never ready for me and maybe it’s my fault, maybe there’s something about me that you’re so scared of. Maybe it’s because you don’t feel secure with me, maybe you wanna save yourself for someone better, someone who can give you a brighter future—”
“That’s not true!” You shook your head desperately, your eyes blurring from the pool of tears while you clung to his arm. Where was all this coming from? It sounded like he had been harboring those feelings for so long. “That’s not true. What are you even saying?”
“I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just…” Trying to give a reason why you won’t give it to me. That must be what he had wanted to say. “Look, I don’t wanna pressure you into this bullshit anymore. I don’t wanna make it look like I’m begging for your affection like this. Intimacy should happen normally for couples, and if we can’t have that, then we can’t. That’s it.”
Why did he sound like he was giving up?
You tried to keep your emotions at bay while listening to him battling with his internal thoughts. “I understand I disappointed you tonight, but…”
He was adamant at shaking his head, distancing himself from you by getting up from the bed. “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s your body and your choice. I’d never force you into anything.”
Then… then…
“I just think it’s not the perfect time,” he continued, shooting you a glance before looking away. Each step he took added another crack on your fragile heart. “From now on, I’m never gonna initiate anything intimate nor will I expect anything from you, aight? I’m over it.”
Alone in your vulnerability, you could feel the cold air hugging your naked body as you watched him walk towards the door, leaving you in the dark both literally and figuratively. “Where a-are you going? Come on… Please.”
He no longer cared to turn around. He no longer bothered to comfort you as he walked away, muttering, “Just gonna go for a ride. Don’t wait on me.”
— —
Nearly three weeks had passed since that night and you would be lying if you said everything was okay.
No, everything was not okay. You could feel the distance growing each day even when you two still did everything together. Your normal routines didn’t feel normal anymore because he was acting too detached ever since he told you that he wouldn’t initiate anything intimate ever again. And to be honest? It hurt. A whole fucking lot. Hearing your partner say that they would never wish to do anything intimate with you was probably the worst way to experience heartbreak. Because he was truthful with it, and he showed it very openly.
Now, he’d lock the door whenever he would take showers. He’d spent most of his time outside riding his bike until midnight. He stopped texting you sweet messages while on tattoo shop duty. He seldomly joined you to eat breakfast and dinner together. His back would face you whenever you two slept in bed. His eyes avoided you even when you walked around in underwear. His hand wouldn’t touch you even when you were centimeters close to him. There were no kisses exchanged either, unless obliged to do so when leaving the house. No hugs. No hair-stroking, hand-holding sweetness ever shared. You were simply cohabiting in your shared apartment like strangers who had barely even said I love you’s.
“Man, that’s rough,” remarked Suguru Getou, your cousin and the barista, as he tidied up the counter behind the elevated bar. Having just served his friend an Americano, he listened intently as you vented about your situation with Sukuna. “I’ll be honest with you, Y/N. It’s not looking good for you.”
You knew that. You just refused to acknowledge it. “I mean, all couples fight.”
Suguru shook his head, however. “You two aren’t even fighting. Dude just gave up and started detaching himself from you. If that’s not a sign already, then I don’t know what is.”
“What sign?” you asked, hiding the obvious worry in your voice. You need not be dense about his words, but you wanted to have some kind of hope to grasp on.
“Sign that he’s falling out of love?” he continued.
And somehow, his white-haired friend thought it would be okay to chime in. “More like a sign that the tool's not interested anymore and is about to dump her.”
Your face felt hot and in the most terrible way. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You hadn’t expected the guy to suddenly chime in, considering he had been quietly typing on his laptop just moments before. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, so don’t go listening to somebody else’s business when you’re not part of the conversation.”
“Jeez,” said the albino guy, grinning at your cousin as if amused by your barrage of a response. “She’s a yapper, too. I thought she was supposed to be this sweet and innocent type, Suguru?”
“Not always.” Suguru chuckled at his friend before turning to you, apologetic eyes now attempting to soothe your nerves. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Satoru just likes to tease people. Don’t mind him.”
You kept a straight face. “Well, then maybe tell your friend to keep his nose out of conversations he’s not invited to.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Satoru gave you a playful salute before extending his hand towards you. “Look, I didn’t mean to overhear, but I actually sympathize with you. If it were me, I’d never do that to you, baby.”
Oh, God. You were so bad at this. Was he flirting with you or was he simply playful like this?
Nevertheless, you rolled your eyes and ignored the hand he offered, essentially brushing off his advances. “I don’t need sympathy. All I’m here for is to talk to my cousin to try and have his advice on the matter,” you emphasized pointedly, making it clear to Satoru that he was the last person you wanted advice from. “I don’t need a stranger listening to my personal life.”
“Doesn’t hurt to receive advice from another guy,” countered Satoru, shrugging. “Right, Suguru? I mean, we’re both guys. We can give you some insight into how men think.”
You felt the urge to bury your face in your hands. It was clearly a mistake going there and putting yourself in that situation, and now having two guys aware of your sex life with your boyfriend. That alone was so wrong on many levels. But could it be helped? Suguru was your closest cousin, the only one who didn’t turn his back on you after you left your parents’ home. He was working at a cafe three blocks away from your flower shop and you happened to be delivering a batch of fresh floral decorations for their cafe. You obviously found it a good opportunity to open up to him about your struggling relationship and hoped he could offer some male perspective on Sukuna’s behavior. You just hadn’t anticipated his friend eavesdropping on the conversation the entire time.
Well, that should have been expected anyway, since only the three of you were in that cafe on a lazy Wednesday afternoon.
“I don’t kiss and tell, by the way.” Satoru was beaming as he gave you that assurance and you couldn’t help but admit that the man had some charm in him. He was attractive, no doubt about it. He was also tall, toned, and seemingly well off based on the way he dressed. He had a casual yet preppy style, something you would normally see from guys who went to private school.
“Do you work?” you asked out of sheer curiosity. “You don’t seem like the type.”
“Oh, now she’s interested.” Satoru seemed to have found your sudden interest in him humorous. “I’m finishing my MBA, miss. Thank you for asking.”
“He’s a privileged rich kid with generational wealth and a family business,” Suguru remarked, playfully gesturing a cutting motion across his neck. “Definitely not your type, huh, Y/N?”
“Why, what’s her type?” The white-haired man looked intrigued, pulling his stool closer. He had that stupid grin on his face as though the topic just sparked his curiosity. “What’s her boyfriend like?”
Suguru, who wanted to play along, jokingly hummed in deep thought. “He’s got tattoos, likes to tattoo other people, is a college dropout, rides a big bike, smokes and drinks, listens to heavy metal, was probably a delinquent and a juvie alumni—”
“Excuse you, he’s never been in a juvenile detention center,” you defended your man, feeling like your cousin’s categorization of Sukuna was becoming a little too derogatory and you had to correct him for that, “and he’s a good man. He’s sweet and caring, he’s passionate, and he loves me sincerely.”
“Sincerely, not?” Satoru quipped, earning your glare in return. He immediately raised his hands in surrender. “I'm just joking. If you believe he’s all that, that’s your choice. I don’t judge booktok girls who romanticize typical bad boys.”
You rolled your eyes at his audacity. Each word that left his mouth seemed to stoke the flames of your irritation. “You’re so offensive, I’ll have you know that.”
The white-haired guy smugly took a sip from his coffee. “At least I don’t make girls feel guilty for not having sex with me.”
“Oooh.” Suguru was clearly enjoying the show, unaware that you were one step closer from smacking his friend across the face. “Touché. He kinda has a point, Y/N.”
“Be serious,” you warned.
To which he agreed to. “Okay, I am being serious now,” he said, abandoning his playful stance to lean in on a more solemn posture against the counter, “If you think Sukuna makes you feel guilty for not doing it with him, then shouldn’t that speak for the kind of relationship you two have? He wants something you can’t give. His reaction tells you everything you need to know about him.”
You tried to absorb his words with a better understanding and without any bias. “Isn’t his reaction normal? He’s a man, too. I understand his needs and I made him feel somewhat rejected.”
“It’s all about respect, Y/N,” answered Suguru, “If he’s a decent man, he wouldn’t make you feel that way. No mixed signals, no guilt tripping, no nothing. If you can’t do it, then don’t.”
“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t feel the same if your girlfriend keeps rejecting sex with you?”
Suguru smirked. “I never said I’m a decent man, either. All I’m saying is if what you want isn’t exactly aligned to what he wants, then maybe it’s best you break it off with him because this shit won’t get you anywhere, Y/N. Trust me. He’s gonna dump you before you know it. I mean, it’s one thing to pretend he’s all fine with it, and it’s another to distance himself from you like he’s silently protesting.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Satoru joined in once again. “It’s impossible for a guy like that to be in a relationship for so long and not have any pussy. We think of sex 24/7, some of us are just better at restraining ourselves than others. He’s putting up with it now, but it’s only a matter of time he gets sick and tired of waiting. You do realize he can get any girl he wants, anytime he wants, right?”
Although you were still uncomfortable at Satoru casually chiming in on the conversation, it was true when they said they could give you the exact male perspective you needed to hear. This allowed you to go deeper into Sukuna’s psyche and understand why he was acting that way. You just didn’t know how to save the connection you have with your boyfriend when both your cousin and his friend were describing all the red flags on Sukuna’s behavior.
“I don’t know,” you spoke in a tone of defeat. “I kinda understand where he’s coming from, so I can’t just leave him for it. I love him.”
Satoru looked at your cousin like you couldn’t be saved. “She’s in too deep.”
“Yeah, gaslighted as fuck.” Suguru was shaking his head in disappointment.
The taller man chuckled and brought up a ridiculous offer to lighten the situation up. “Honestly, Y/N. I know we just met and all, but if you ever need someone to teach you how to do good in bed, just hit me up. He’ll never know.”
“Shut up,” you shot back at Satoru, eyes rolling at his remark.
“You’re out here feeling bad for that guy when he could be fucking his clients at the tattoo shop.”
You argued. “No, he’s not—”
“Are you sure he isn’t?”
It wasn’t Suguru nor Satoru who posed that question; it was Yuki Tsukumo, the café’s manager and Suguru's respected senior. She was in a relationship with one of your boyfriend’s stepbrothers, Choso, and was also a fellow biker, which allowed her to cross paths with Sukuna in their community. Despite this connection, she was never particularly close to him. In fact, Yuki didn’t personally get along with Sukuna and she was very vocal about it. She was, however, a regular client of yours and ordered floral arrangements from your shop on a weekly basis.
It had been awhile since you last saw her, and didn’t expect that the first greeting you would give her was a question. “Yuki, what do you mean?”
Great. Now, three people know about your relationship quagmires.
She was placing her helmet at the counter and sitting on a stool before answering you, “I really think you should talk to him about it, Y/N.”
No, no. Why did you suddenly feel a pang of anxiety out of nowhere? Something about the sympathy in Yuki’s eyes felt unsettling, and it sent a wave of fear through you. She definitely knew something. What was Sukuna doing behind your back?
“Can you please just tell me?”
Her gaze studied your face intently, as if deliberating on the right thing to do. “Well... I spotted him riding with a girl the other night. Initially, I thought it might be you, but last night, I saw them together again. I recognized her... because it was his ex. I think he’s been giving her rides home lately.”
Amidst the quiet of the room, your heart felt like it was breaking in two. The sudden revelation sent you into an abyss of pain.
“You might wanna visit his tattoo shop later.” Yuki encouraged me with a comforting smile. “It may be best to confront him about it.”
— —
Sukuna wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. It wasn’t like he was purposely avoiding you, but he just didn’t feel comfortable acting like everything was fine and dandy. Because if he was damn honest, the sexual frustration was fucking with his head. So much so to the point where he started questioning himself if he should still put up with a relationship like this.
First of all, there were pros and cons involved. He had to consider that it was a special connection filled with special memories, too.
If he was talking about the pros, he knew he would have a loving lifetime partner with you. You were beautiful, kind, and pure. You inspired him and motivated him to be better. You were unmaterialistic and happy with the littlest things. You gave his dominant side the urge to be a better man, like he was made to protect and provide for you. You became his muse; a blank canvas that was all for him to paint on. A canvas that no one had ever touched. Or, in your world, a white lily that was associated with chastity and virtue.
But then, there were also cons, and the foremost of it being you were too conservative for your own good. You grew up in a strict environment with uptight parents who wanted to control your life. He could never voice it out, but he really hated that you were square like your parents sometimes. You were too traditional and afraid to explore new experiences, oftentimes policing him for living his life as free as he wanted it to be. The ‘opposites attract’ thing did seem to work in your relationship at first, with your differences being exciting for each other, but as time went by, it became clearer to him that you two were too different to actually be in sync together.
Hence why your relationship became rigid and suffocating, forcing him to take a breather by distancing himself from you for some time. He did this for your benefit, because he had to clear his head before risking losing you for good. He didn’t want to jeopardize a relationship that he knew meant the world to him. Perhaps this was just a phase, a challenging period following the honeymoon phase, where all your differences seemed to become more pronounced.
But to repeatedly make him look forward to sharing intimacy with you, only for you to back out at the very last minute? Man, was that so frustrating.
It didn’t help that it was destiny itself that seemed to be stirring the pot. Because while you two were going through a rough time in your relationship, the irony presented itself outside of Sukuna’s tattoo shop late at night just as he was about to close.
“Ryo?” A tall woman with athletic build, long dark hair, and beautiful doe eyes came into view with a wide smile on her face.
His ex-girlfriend of three years.
Sukuna held the door for her albeit the confusion in his eyes. “Yorozu?”
The only difference he noticed was that she had become a lot sexier, with the curves on her body more womanly than ever. It was obvious that she was active in the gym to achieve such a fit physique. But other than that, her facial features were the same. Her heart eyes still shone bright at the mere sight of him, as if they carried stars and galaxies.
“I think I came too late,” said Yorozu, smiling in disappointment, “I should probably just return tomorrow.”
“No, you’re good.” Sukuna insisted on letting her enter his shop, closing the door as soon as she was inside. “What brought you here?”
She stood confidently in front him, wearing nothing but a blank tank top and some loose white pants. “Funny story ‘cause I actually just moved to this city recently and I just found out you had a shop in this area.”
Oh? That was interesting, indeed. Sukuna wondered how she even found his shop in that case, while he was leading her to the tattoo chair. “Are you here to get a tattoo or?”
“Yeah, yeah I am.” She was sprinkling some charm in her grin. He knew her too well. “I think it’s amazing that I’m gonna get it from you again.”
While Yorozu was talking to him, he couldn’t help but ask: was it wrong for him to be in the same vicinity as his ex? Considering how jealous you could get, this was definitely wrong in your eyes. But as he wasn’t doing anything sketchy, he figured there was nothing wrong about what he was doing. Yorozu was technically a client and he couldn’t deny her his services since she was basically a friend of his, too. So, was he breaking any code here?
“Well, only if you have time now, of course,” she added out of consideration, “It’s kinda late so I can always come back.”
Sukuna shook his head and headed to get his book of tattoo art samples. “It’s fine. I got clients lined up all day tomorrow, so,” he said, placing the book on her lap, “You wanna check that or do you have a design in mind already?”
Yorozu’s eyes fell on the tattoos marking Sukuna’s body, her gaze landing on every familiar inch as though she had seen them all the time before. It was true. She had seen more of him, actually. She had done more with his body, too. “I kinda wanna get a sleeve, but I want you to choose the design for me.”
A tattoo sleeve? Damn. It was something he would never in a million years see from you, but for Yorozu, it was totally normal. She was as obsessed with ink as he was. And although she’s had a couple of tattoos in her body already, which were done by him, it would be her first time to get a full sleeve.
“I get to choose, really?” Sukuna chuckled lightly. If he were to think of Yorozu’s traits, she was definitely a classic red rose. A seductress, alluring woman was how he saw her and the said flower would be a true-to-life representation of her personality. She was passionate when it came to loving someone, and was completely devoted to him back when they were together. The only reason they broke up was because they were too similar, as if she was his counterpart, and he saw fit to leave a relationship where they both constantly battled for dominance. Yorozu could get too aggressive on loving someone and he didn’t particularly like that. He made her understand why they weren’t working as a couple, and it took her some time, but she eventually accepted his decision. Now, you could say, they were somehow on good terms. “Alright, I’ll do your sleeve, but I’ll keep the design as a surprise.”
Her eyes sparkled in excitement at the thought. “I’d love that!”
“Since you want a sleeve, we’re gonna do some stencil application today.” Sukuna didn’t waste any more time in getting ready with his equipment, biting on the glove while wearing the other on his hand. “It’ll take fifteen to twenty hours to complete a sleeve, and each session could last two to six hours depending on your pain tolerance. My schedule’s actually full all day until next week, but you can come around the same time every night so I can finish yours.”
“Yeah, I’m absolutely fine with that,” she enthused. For some reason, Yorozu was happy with the idea. The idea of coming to visit Sukuna every night in his shop. The idea that they get to be alone. The idea that they would be able to reconnect just like old times. Those were the things that Sukuna assumed was going through her head.
And as he did start with his ‘client’, it was probably best to admit that the sexual tension was high. The room felt stuffy as the both of them remained there until midnight, with her sitting on the tattoo chair, and him doing her tattoo to her left. His eyes were intently focused on the intricate patterns he was doing on her arm, but also couldn’t avoid seeing the contours of her breasts since she was wearing such a thin tank top. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before. He’d seen every part of her body from her neck down to her toes. He’d put her in every position from missionary to doggy. Goddamn, he could even remember how warm she felt around his cock. Didn’t she like it when he came inside her? Or when he made her swallow every drop of his seed?
Sukuna cleared his throat, shaking his vulgar thoughts away as he continued with Yorozu’s arm. He may not be cheating, but thinking back on those intimate experiences with someone else other than his girlfriend was definitely not morally right either. But what sexual experience could he reminisce about with you? That ridiculously embarrassing night you two had shouldn’t even be counted since he was trying so hard to forget about it.
He cleared his throat. Again. For the third time. “What, uh, what’ve you been up to?”
Yorozu, who had no clue about his thoughts, turned her face to look at him happily. “Not much, actually. The bar I worked at closed down, but I got myself a new job in this club as a full time hostess and part-time promoter. You should come by. Drinks on me.”
By not exactly accepting or refusing, Sukuna decided to just smile it off. “That’s why you moved to this city?”
“Yeah, I mean… obviously, the rent here is higher, but it’s closer to my job. I get paid decently, too.”
“That’s nice.” He was just trying to make small talk at this point. “Do you know your way ‘round here? How are you gonna get home?”
She considered her options. “Probably a bus or something?”
Sukuna paused, contemplating the situation. “There's no bus here at midnight,” he remarked, concerned for the girl who would have to navigate her way home alone at such a late hour. She was new to the area and clearly still adjusting to the commuter lifestyle. Unlike her, he had a vehicle that could safely transport her home. There would be no harm in offering, right? “Look, I have a bike and I usually take midnight rides, anyway. I can drop you off on my way home.”
“Really?” Her voice echoed excitement in them. “I’d appreciate it, Ryo. Thanks so much.”
Life was ironic, truly. He didn’t see this situation coming because he never expected that he would even come across Yorozu ever again. They didn’t have any contact prior, but he still saw her on social media whenever he (on very rare occasions) decided to check his accounts. He never had her blocked, either, which was why you knew about Yorozu after snooping through his phone and reading through some of his old messages with her. Sukuna used to tell you not to worry about her, and that she was just his ex, and that she had nothing on you—which were all true, of course, but it was funny to him now that the woman his girlfriend was most threatened by was back in his life.
And she was riding at the backseat of his motorbike, her arms latching at nothing else but around his torso. She was seated at the seat reserved for you, wearing the helmet that was bought for you, and holding onto a man that was rightfully yours. It all didn’t feel right.
But because Yorozu delighted in his habit of speeding on the highway, he had somehow forgotten about the guilt that was forming in his heart.
**
“You still have your ex’s Instagram?” Your questioning eyes met his defensive ones as he joined you in the living room, finding his space on the couch next to you. “I read your dms. Why haven’t you blocked her?”
Sukuna’s breath remained steady. “Only toxic people do that shit.”
“But I’m not comfortable with it!” you nagged, letting him snatch his phone from your grasp.
“Do you see me talking to her still?” he asked, trying to be as patient as he could be, “Baby, I don’t even talk to her. I don’t think she’s active there, either.”
You crossed your arms. “Then, block her?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being fair. You shouldn’t be keeping tabs with an ex.”
“What are you—” Sukuna decided to cut his own sentence after realizing that the argument was plain stupid. “You know what, I’ll just delete my insta.”
**
“How many times do you two do it?” you asked out of nowhere, sitting at the waiting area while he was closing his shop. “Your ex. How often do you have sex with her?”
What kind of trap were you setting now? If he told you an honest answer, you would get mad. If he lied or even sugar coated it, you would also get mad.
“Does it matter? Why do you keep asking questions about her and then get upset with me?” Sukuna’s frustration resonated in his sigh as he tidied the space where he tattooed his client a few minutes ago. “She’s an ex for a reason, so get over it.”
He was starting to get annoyed by your never-ending questions about his past experiences, but he knew you were simply coming from a place of no experience. You probably wanted to know what he liked in bed, what pleased him the most, what kept him from wanting more. Was that too much? No. Were you overdoing this entire thing? A little bit.
“Why are you defensive?” you asked softly, still sitting on the couch as you watched him avoid your eyes. “You make me feel so insecure every time.”
He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned around. “I don’t know, baby. If you’re feeling insecure, then do something about it.”
**
“Thanks so much for the ride, Ryo.”
Yorozu stood by her door, returning the helmet back to him while she kept her eyes locked on his. Her gaze was inviting, tempting him to give in and submit to his carnal desires. Any man would read her intentions the same way; Yorozu stared at him like that because she wanted to invite him to her place. She wanted him to spend the night and do unforgivable things. To remember the passionate exchange they once shared.
But Sukuna wasn’t like that. No, he wasn’t a cheater. “I, uh, gotta get going.”
“Oh…” Disappointment clouded Yorozu’s face. “Okay, then.”
“See you tomorrow?”
“...Alright.”
“Okay.”
“Wait!” Yorozu pulled his arm just as he was heading back to his motorbike. The sudden closeness in their proximity made his heart race fast. He knew what was coming. “I missed you, Ryo.”
He knew what she was about to do next.
And holy fuck did he guess right, as he was taken aback when Yorozu suddenly leaned in to press her lips onto his. Her soft, cherry lips moved desperately to taste his sweet kisses.
But he didn’t return it. Instead, he immediately pushed her away. “Yorozu,” he spoke softly, “I have a girlfriend.”
“You do?” She didn’t need to hide it. He could see the heartbreak on her face.
“Yeah,” Sukuna confirmed, maintaining a more appropriate distance now. “We’ve been together for some time, and I live with her.”
Yorozu tried to maintain her facade of indifference, making it appear as though she was unfazed by his revelation. “That’s... That’s cool,” she said, “I’m sorry for, uh, the kiss.”
Sukuna nodded, “It’s fine. I should’ve told you sooner.”
“You’re alright,” she reassured him, “It's totally my fault. I hope she won’t be upset with you or something.”
Sukuna had no plans to tell you, knowing well the additional turmoil it would bring to your already strained relationship. However, he realized the importance of clarity in his intentions and the need to set boundaries. “We’re just friends. We’ll keep things civil. I’ll finish your tattoo in a couple more sessions, and then we’re done. Sounds fair?”
Yorozu nodded her head with a reluctant smile. “Fair enough.”
— —
5 more days. Her sleeve required five more sessions, and days went by too fast for him to count. He had busied himself with his clients, while you had busied yourself with yours. He couldn’t even spend time with you because his shop took a chunk of his time from him, and even at home, things had become too awkward ever since your unspoken night.
So, in some ways, Yorozu became his routine. She visited his shop for the past four nights and he had taken her home afterwards. She was in absolute love with her rose sleeve and they weren’t even complete yet. He still owed her one last session and told himself that it should also be the last time she should be around him. It wasn’t right and he didn’t want to create another source of argument with you.
And in truth, he certainly felt a little guilty for spending more time with his ex than his own girlfriend. But did he purposely do it? No, it was fate that brought her to his door about a week ago.
In spite of his stubbornness to admit his wrongdoing, he still ended up stopping by the flower market to get you a nice bouquet of white lilies. He knew you could make a prettier bouquet than that, but he thought it would be a perfect opportunity to surprise you with flowers that didn’t exactly come from you. Besides, he had some making up to do.
Later that night, when he returned to your shared home, he found you sitting at the couch seemingly waiting for him to come home. The lights were dimmed and the television was turned off. For some reason, you were wearing outside clothes and had a somber expression on your face, too. That alone caused the loud thumping of his heart.
“Hey,” he greeted, nonetheless, sitting next to you on the couch and kissing your cheek. “Everything okay, baby?”
Your eyes carried sadness in them as you looked at him and searched for answers you couldn’t find. “Where were you?”
Sukuna handed the bouquet over. “Got you flowers.”
You didn’t accept them. Instead, every second seemed to torture you. “Where were you before that?”
“In the shop…?” He didn’t know where to start, but he was definitely scared. “Why? Sorry I’ve been busy lately. I’ll make it up to you, angel.”
“You close your shop at nine,” you pointed out, voice breaking in the middle of your sentence. “Why do you always come home at two in the morning?”
Fuck. Fuck! What should he say? Should he make an excuse for it? Should he say he’d been checking on Yuuji after his shifts? Should he say he’d been riding to other cities to clear his mind? He didn’t fucking know what to say, especially not when you were clearly on the verge of bursting out.
“Answer me!” you cried, finally releasing the bottle out in the open. The tears that welled in your eyes now streamed ceaselessly down your face. “You’re an asshole. I-I hate you! I fucking… you think I don’t know? You think I’m too stupid to know?!”
Sukuna calmly received the fists you had swung on his chest as he tried to grab ahold of your arms. “Baby, I’ll explain everything.”
“No, damn y-you!” The tremor in your voice squeezed his heart in the most painful way because he hated seeing you breaking down in front of him and over him. This wasn’t the first time he had made you cry, but this was the first time he had seen you actually sob like this. “I-I gave myself to you! I left my p-parents for you! And this is what you do to me? You’re cheating on me with your ex?!”
He was desperate to hold you, hug you, cage you in his arms. He wanted to take your pain away. Wipe your tears away. However, you didn’t allow him to touch even a strand on your hair as you kept on pushing him off. Sukuna felt like he was going to lose his mind. “Baby, listen to me please. It’s really not what you think—”
“I don’t care!” you spat, moving away to wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t fucking care! You sleeping with her or not doesn’t change a thing. Don’t you get it? I’ll never be enough for you!” Despite your loud voice, the cracks in her facade only revealed your longing for validation and acceptance, etching into every tear-stained moment you two had shared over the course of your relationship. He watched you, paralyzed by the sight of you breaking down, as you grabbed a luggage you had been hiding behind the couch as if you were ready to leave. “I’ll never be the person you want me to be and staying with you will always remind me of it!”
“No, no, no… Let’s talk.” Sukuna had to suppress his own tears while he tried to reach out for you. “Baby, please. I don’t feel anything for her, or anyone. It’s just you. You are enough for me, baby. I’m sorry, please.”
You, on the other hand, were adamant at your decision. “I can’t stand what you’re doing to me anymore. I don’t like how you make me feel about myself. I hate how you make me question my own choices!” Tears continued to flow, and your voice wavered, transitioning from anger to a more subdued, pained tone. “I hate… I hate that I love you so much, that I lost all my backbone just to make you happy.”
“You don’t need to.” He was feeling more and more miserable now, his heart sore from all the emotions he had seen from you. “Y/N, you don’t need to. I’m sorry, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
…
…
…
“It’s over, Sukuna,” were the last words he could recall hearing before passing out drunk in his bed that afternoon. “We’re done.”
— —
It was your first heartbreak. Your first actual relationship. Your first everything. Surely, people shouldn’t expect you to move on easily, especially not when the subject of your heartache worked across the street from you.
You were a mess. You had cried enough tears after you moved out of his apartment that night, screamed your heart out as you suffered from the pain of loneliness once more. You couldn’t even bear the thought of returning to your parents and hearing them say they told you so, because loving Sukuna was a choice you thought was good for you.
In the end, he was just a poison without any antidote. A toxin without remedy. The most effective solution was to sever all ties to prevent further contamination.
But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen him in his shop ever since that night, either. The tattoo parlor remained closed for more than two weeks without any notice. While a small part of you worried for him, a bigger part of you cared for yourself. He no longer held any importance to your life, and you should let it remain that way.
What you should focus on, instead, was living your life without any trace of him. A life of independence, away from the toxicity of a manipulative man who constantly made you doubt yourself and what you offered. As they say, you have to learn to love yourself first before you can fully learn to love others.
And in your journey of knowing the truth of that saying, a certain white-haired man entered your floral shop on a somber Friday afternoon just as you were arranging preordered bouquets for multiple customers to pick up.
“Hey,” you greeted the man, surprised at his sudden appearance at your shop.
Satoru grinned as he approached you closer. “I’m here to pick up two bouquets.”
“Oh, it was your order?” Your eyes widened. Silly you. Of course, Suguru would order on his friend’s behalf. He wouldn’t even get his girlfriend some flowers, let alone his mother. So this being Satoru’s order made much more sense. “Okay, you got a bouquet of blush peonies and another bouquet of pink tulips, am I correct?”
He smiled handsomely, displaying his set of perfect white teeth while listening to you talk. “Correct.”
“For your mom?” you asked before you made your way to pick up the bouquets, handing them to him carefully.
His response came with a soft, affirmative hum. “Mhm. One for her,” he said, taking only the bouquet of tulips, “The other is for you.”
Oh, no, no, definitely no. You had seen this before and it didn’t go well.
“That’s lovely, but…” You offered a smile. “I’m not taking those peonies.”
Satoru acted innocent, his vibrant blue eyes coruscating under the ambient lights. “But it’s mother’s day.”
You playfully shook your head. “I’m not even a mother.”
“Yes, you are,” he went on teasing, “the mother of my future kids. I like to think in advance, you know.”
Honestly? This man started off with a bad impression on you, but he wasn’t actually so bad. He was an easygoing, happy-go-lucky person who carried positive energy around him. That, and he was decent, too. He was the type of guy your parents would have surely approved of. He was a degree holder like you, even pursuing graduate studies to run a business that was already generating an income that you could only imagine of getting. He was set for life with no uncertainty with what he wanted for his future.
“Satoru?”
He met your gaze. “Yeah?”
“About your offer last time,” you recalled, recalling his earlier jest about teaching you some things in bed, “I think I'd like to take you up on that.”
3K notes
·
View notes
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?
3K notes
·
View notes