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gukyi · 5 years ago

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if i told you | jjk

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

{friends to lovers!au, college!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, angst, we’ve got it all folks word count: 22k warnings: slightly underage alcohol consumption, mention of words that could be spoken on an crime documentary series but nothing graphic, ravioli-stealing, idiots to lovers, as per usual a/n: finally! here is the long awaited jungkook fic that i have literally been slaving over since the beginning of january. was this fic supposed to be 10k? yes. did i somehow end up writing 22k anyway? of course! in any case, please enjoy my absolute baby who i love and cherish!

check out the post-script drabble here!

Jeon Jungkook loses his job at the university call center on the seventeenth day of the fall semester of his sophomore year.

You know this because on the seventeenth day of the fall semester of your sophomore year, he comes banging on the door of your apartment shared with three other girls at 2:07PM, seven minutes after he normally starts his job at the university call center.

He’s lucky that you’re the only one who doesn’t have class in the 2PM hour.

“Y/N!” He shouts through the thin wooden door, his voice probably echoing down the thin hallway of your apartment complex.

You open it before the second knock—you only rush to the door to get him to shut the fuck up, and not because you’re excited to see him, you swear—to see him standing on the other side, XXL university hoodie draped over his figure, down to his mid-thigh, baggy hood pulled over his head like a sad college-aged Star Wars character. He looks exactly like a jaded sophomore year college student would. He is beautiful.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the call center right now?” You ask in lieu of a normal “hello” or even a “what the fuck are you doing here, it’s 2PM”. Jungkook does not wait for you to invite him inside your apartment, immediately kicks off his shoes by the entrance and tugs on your apartment slippers that are a size-and-a-half too small for his feet, and marches over to your shared fridge to fish through the tupperware containers with your name written on Post-it notes for a mid-afternoon snack.

Jungkook waits until he’s got an entire piece of frozen supersized ravioli shoved into his mouth before he responds. “I was fired,” he says over a mouthful of pasta and cheese.

“What?” You ask, eyes widening as Jungkook shuffles through your kitchen drawers for a fork, which means that the first piece of ravioli that he ate he did so with his bare ass hands. Like a heathen. Like a ravioli-craving twenty-year-old heathen.

“I was fired,” Jungkook repeats. He stares at the microwave resting on your kitchen counter for a good ten seconds before he continues to eat the cold, unheated pasta. Every time he’s in your apartment (which is frequently), he tells you how it’s a fire, water, and explosive hazard to have your microwave on the counter like that. As if there is any other place in your apartment for it to go. Maybe out on the tiny balcony you have that overlooks the busiest street on campus.

“Care to offer an explanation as to why?” You ask, coming up next to him. Jungkook is nearly finished with your tupperware of ravioli, and normally you’d shout at him for it, but seeing as he was just fired from his only source of income as a money-starved college student, you’ll cut him some slack. Just a little.

“You remember that old, angry alumnus that told me that asking for donations in order to benefit low-income-slash-first generation students was selfish and rude of me, and that I wouldn’t be in college if it weren’t for what his generation accomplished?” Jungkook asks.

You remember that vividly. Jungkook spent an approximate two hours and thirty-seven minutes on FaceTime with you ranting about this one “old man bitch” who he had to speak to during his day at work, all while you did your economics problem set to the sweet, mellifluous sound of Jungkook’s shrill shrieks.

“The one you lost your temper at and shouted at for being ungrateful and elitist?” You ask pointedly. You have a feeling you already know where this conversation is going.

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes. He finishes the ravioli (goddamnit, now you’re going to have to find something else to eat for dinner at 11PM tonight) and turns around to place it in the sink. For once, it is not piled high with dishes from up to a week ago, so Jungkook even squirts a bit of Dawn onto a sponge and washes the plastic container for you. “Well, as it turns out, telling an old racist elitist that he’s old, racist, and elitist does not go down well with my boss.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” you muse. Jungkook sighs, walking over to where you’re taking it easy on the couch. “Oh no,” you say, eyes widening as he grins, plotting something. “Do not, Jungkook. Jungkook, do not!”

He jumps, catapulting himself onto the couch and landing on top of you with a thud. You let out a groan as the weight of his body hits you, foreheads nearly knocking into each other. Jungkook is a good foot-and-a-half too long for this dinky leather couch that’s always sort of smelled, feet and ankles hanging off the opposing arm rest just so he can nuzzle his face into the crook of your shoulder like he always does. You hate when he does this. Hate when he jumps onto the couch while you’re casually reclining just so he can collapse on top of you. Hate the feeling of his body resting against yours, soft breathes against the skin of your neck. Hate how it always makes you want more, how it will never be enough.

“Have you been working out?” You mumble against the fabric of his t-shirt. “You’re more muscle-y than usual.”

“I added weights to my routine,” Jungkook tells you mindlessly. If your roommates walked into your apartment right now and saw the both of you on the couch, you’d never hear the end of it. “Taehyung said it would make me more swole.”

“As if you need to be any more buff,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook’s the most athletic person you’ve ever met in your entire life. He could probably pick up your dinky couch with you sitting on it without batting an eyelash. Even Superman would tremble at the sight of him. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters into your skin. “God, what the fuck am I gonna do now? I need money to pay for everything in my life and my one source of income is now totally invalid because an old guy got what he deserved.”

“Are there any work-study positions still available?” You ask, hand reaching up to stroke at his hair, smoothing it down. Jungkook’s preferred cuddling position is big spoon, but he still demands that he be coddled as though he were the little spoon.

“No,” Jungkook says with a huff, “they’ve all been snagged by try-hard freshmen who need money like me.”

“I distinctly recall you being a try-hard freshman who also needed money,” you tell him. “That’s why you applied to work at the call center, isn’t it?”

Jungkook sits up, the weight of his figure crushing your legs as he rests on top of them. If you stayed like this forever, you’d probably lose feeling in your lower body, but you’d also get to stay with Jungkook forever, which is a trade-off you would genuinely consider. “Yeah, but the call center hires everybody. You just need to be like… decent at communication. And I’m pretty decent at communication.”

“You never text me back,” you tell him pointedly.

“That’s because I prefer showing up unannounced at your apartment or other places you frequent,” Jungkook reminds you excitedly. He’ll never let you forget about the time you were wrapping up a small seminar with your history professor and Jungkook burst through the doors with a whole thing of carrots and hummus because you had texted him that you were hungry. You could not look your history professor in the eye for the rest of the semester. “I’d say that’s pretty decent communication.”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure out another way to market your decent communication skills to get another job,” you tell him. “Have you considered the boba place on Oak? You could get me employee discounts.”

Jungkook leans over just to pinch at your cheek, fingers gripping onto your face and pulling like a grandmother. “You just want me for my money.”

“You’re my best friend, Jeon Jungkook,” you tell him. “Of course I do.”

This is what Jeon Jungkook’s obligatory university Facebook group introduction post read:

Hi, I’m Jungkook and I’m thinking of majoring in visual studies or computer science (really different lol I know)! I played soccer in high school but don’t think I’ll be continuing in college because I was pretty bad at it. I’m looking for a roommate and I’d really like to live in New East House, but anything works for me as long as it has a bed. Hit me up if you think we’d made a good match, but I like talking with everyone lol.

I’m really into music and can play the guitar, drums, and piano. I like listening to all types of music (yes, even country which slaps kinda hard sometimes) but my favorites are The 1975, Frank Ocean, Troye Sivan, and Khalid. Will bop to Justin Bieber on occasion as well.

I play Ultimate and am really interested in joining the club team here so hit me up and we can practice sometime because my skills are a little rusty. I also do a little skateboarding but I am definitely not a skater.

Hit me up if you think we can be friends lol I’m excited to meet you all!

It was accompanied by several pictures, a couple of which are selfies at that anime girl angle, one of him with his friends at prom all doing that Frat Boy pose, and a couple of him with his family. To an outsider doing a very quick glance, it pretty much reads the same as a rather extensive dating profile.

The truth of it all is, as you were scrolling through the hundreds of obligatory university Facebook group introduction posts in search of a freshman year roommate, you stumbled upon Jungkook’s intro post and you thought this: No. Way.

The moment you laid eyes on his first above-the-head angle selfie, you knew that it would be unlikely that you and Jeon Jungkook’s paths would ever cross. He played guitar and did Ultimate Frisbee, and you wanted to audition for your university’s symphony orchestra. He was beautiful but in that sort of college frat boy who can crush you at beer pong kind of way. Craziest of all, he was a computer science major, and you were walking in as an undecided humanities concentration.

Impossible. There was no way the two of you would ever meet, and you accepted that right off that bat. At a school your size, you would go through these four years not knowing a majority of your class. Jeon Jungkook was just one of the casualties.

On the very first day of orientation, Jeon Jungkook comes up to you on the sidewalk, wearing a white t-shirt, a backwards baseball cap, and shorts, and asks you if you’re here for orientation as well? He’s lost.

Jeon Jungkook is the type of guy you imagine getting eaten up by any girl who meets him almost immediately. He’s charming and endearing the same way a baby deer is, but has no problem wearing clothes that remind you of how fit he is. He is, for lack of a better term, extremely good looking.

“Yeah,” you had said on the sidewalk, squinting to look up at him since the sun was in your eyes. “I’m heading to the auditorium right now. Wanna walk with me?”

“Okay, sure,” Jungkook had replied, smiling with all of his teeth. Even in the sweaty summer heat, he looked even nicer in person. “Thanks, by the way. I’m Jungkook. What’s your name?”

You knew that already. How could you have forgotten?

You had grinned up at him. The universe has always worked in mysterious ways. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

When Jungkook doesn’t know what to do, he stress eats. Most often, you are the single witness to this action, which has literally no effect on his body mass whatsoever since he immediately burns off every calorie (and then some) at his next gym session.

That is precisely why you are sitting in the second-best dining hall on campus eating a pretty measly salad and french fries, while Jungkook returns from the serve-yourself cafeteria with his sixth plate of food. Next to you is your mutual friend Chaewon, a filthy rich international student from Korea who is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met.

“I think I’ve called every cafe, bubble tea shop, clothing store, and paid internship within a five-mile radius of this place and nothing,” Jungkook says with a sigh, keeping Chaewon updated with his job-search antics. It’s been several days since he was fired, and while being keenly cognizant of your bank account isn’t necessarily a bad thing, when it means that Jungkook refuses to leave campus because he is in hyper-saving mode, it sort of rustles your jimmies.

“Have you tried babysitting?” Chaewon supplies helpfully.

You laugh aloud at the mere thought of Jungkook stuck in some middle-aged parent’s house with their toddler for hours on a night where he could be living it up on campus. Jeon Jungkook? A babysitter?

“Wow, what the heck is wrong with me being a babysitter?” Jungkook questions, offended.

“First of all, you don’t even let me beat you in Mario Kart on your Switch and I am your best friend. If you ended up gaming with a four-year-old boy, your over-competitiveness would take over you and you’d crush the poor kid and his spirit,” you remind him pointedly. Not to mention the fact that the man cannot cook to save his life, and you can’t even entrust him with microwave dinners because of his irrational fear of modern oven technology.

Jungkook pouts. He knows you’re right.

“It’s not like you were going to look into babysitting, anyway,” you say with a shove, nudging his shoulder with your own.

Jungkook sighs, and despite all of the shit you give him on a daily basis (part of the responsibility of being his best friend), you do genuinely feel bad for him. Even if his job at the call center wasn’t the most intellectually stimulating nor morally rewarding, he didn’t absolutely hate it and he made a pretty decent earning off of it. He unzips his backpack and fumbles for his laptop, opening it up to reveal a Google Chrome window with approximately thirty-seven tabs open of places to work on and around campus. Meanwhile, Chaewon’s phone buzzes on the table, and she heaves out a great, exasperated exhale before picking up and immediately launching off into incredibly speedy Korean.

“If only the bubble tea place was hiring,” you lament, kissing goodbye all of the free bubble tea you had been dreaming about if Jungkook got hired.

“I’m glad I don’t work at the bubble tea place,” Jungkook tells you with his eyebrows raised, “otherwise I’d have to see you every day!”

“You already see me every day!” You should back, but it’s not like Jungkook doesn’t know that already. He’s the one always barging into your apartment or sitting down next to you in the library when you’re trying to study.

“But maybe you should try drinking less bubble tea, otherwise you’re gonna blow up like a tapioca pearl like that one girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Jungkook warns, pinching your cheek as if to make your face round like a tapioca bubble.

“I can think of nothing I’d want more than to be a tapioca pearl for the rest of my life,” you state simply. It would be much less stressful than to be a college student.

“If you were a tapioca pearl, I’d eat you!” Jungkook says, and you, out of the security of both your head and your heart, choose not to think too much into it.

As Jungkook teases you about your slight obsession with bubble tea, Chaewon finally puts the phone down after what very well was several minutes of angry Korean. She lets out this deep, long sigh, like all of the pent-up rage within her is exiting through her exhale.

“You good, Chae?” You ask her, a little concerned. Even after knowing her since the beginning of your freshman year, you’ve never once seen her get mad, though she looks pretty close to it now.

“Yeah,” she says, exasperated. “My mom is having this stupid company ball here and she really, really wants me to attend.” It is obvious that Chaewon does not, in fact, want to attend. You’ve seen Chaewon nearly every day for over a year, and you’ve never even seen her wear a pantsuit. You couldn’t imagine her joy at having to dress up in a ballgown.

“But fancy free food,” you point out. Even if she does have to be trapped in a penthouse ballroom with her parents’ stuffy business friends, the catering company will probably be god-tier.

Chaewon pretty much bangs her head on the dining hall table.

“Wow, I didn’t know someone could hate catered food so much,” you say, a little alarmed.

“It’s not that,” Chaewon says, rubbing her forehead. The pasta on the plate in front of her has remained untouched for nearly ten minutes now. You wonder if she’s even hungry anymore. “My mom wants me to bring a plus-one.”

Your eyes widen. An excuse to dress nice and eat good food? Hell yeah.

“And it can’t be you, Y/N, it has to be a date,” Chaewon says. It’s pretty obvious she’s not interested in dating whatsoever, no matter the gender of the object of her affection. You pout. Damn. “My mom said, ‘he can be whoever you want!’ but that means that he has to be an attractive Korean guy who’s got a future job in finance.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jungkook says over a mouthful of broccoli.

“You will?” Chaewon asks. Jungkook just single-handedly saved Chaewon from a night of unbearable business talk with a boy she doesn’t know and cannot relate to.

You scoff. “You’re just a regular Korean dude, Jungkook,” you tell him.

Jungkook pouts, bottom lip turned out. “You don’t think I’m attractive?”

You refuse to answer that question. You’re afraid of what you might say if you open your mouth.

“Seriously, you’d do that for me?” Chaewon turns to Jungkook with platonic stars in her eyes.

Jungkook shrugs. “Sure. I’ve got a suit. I’ll ask my friend Jimin for a crash course in finance before the thing. When is it?”

And just like that, you and Jungkook’s weekly Friday Mario Kart night gets a rain check.

Jeon Jungkook is the sole best decision of your life.

And it’s funny and twisted and wonderful, because he is the one thing you had failed to account for in your life. He stands there on the sidewalk in the blazing sun, black baseball cap nestled safely onto his dark brown hair, and in the split second it takes for him to open his mouth and say hello, everything changes.

But no longer is the image you conjure in your mind when you think of him a picture of him on that very first day of orientation, lost and excited all at once. It is of him barging into your apartment and eating all of your leftover ravioli. It’s him laying on your dinky couch like it belongs to him, surfing through all of the Netflix shows available and eventually just settling on old Gilmore Girls episodes like he always does. It’s him standing in your closet to judge your latest clothing purchases and take back any items that you’ve stolen from him over the years.

It’s imagining him not as a guest but as a permanent fixture in your home, in the place that makes you feel safest. Because that’s who Jungkook is, now. He is that place. He stands in your apartment rattling off a list of why microwaves are a severely underestimated killer, and it takes every inch of your being not to ask him to stay. To spend night after night cuddling on the couch, or make a home-cooked meal together on a Sunday evening, or get lost underneath the sheets on your bed.

Jungkook stands in your apartment like he belongs there. And only in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine that coming true.

Such is the case of that Friday night, when he’s supposed to accompany Chaewon to her terrible, awful, brain-melting parents’ business gala. You haven’t seen him all day, too busy with your club meetings to make time for him after your classes are finished for the week. College is never-ending in that horrible, unstoppable way.

It’s nearing two in the morning when you hear the knock on your door. Two of your roommates are at a rush event for their sorority, and the other sleeps through your smoke alarm on a regular basis, so you are tasked with the job of opening the door.

On the other side is Jungkook, as he frequently is.

Your heart practically freezes in place, like his eyes have shot right through it. Instead of his usual baggy outfit and a bucket hat, he’s standing outside of your apartment in a crisp navy suit (complete with a pocket square), rings lining his fingers and hair tousled in that effortlessly-styled kind of way. He looks like a goddamn celebrity, like a young, successful CEO. Like the love of your whole fucking life.

Coughing to distract from the fact that you’re practically drooling, you say, “Wow, you clean up nicely.”

Jungkook looks down at himself, almost as if he had forgotten he’s wearing a full suit entirely. “The pocket square is Jimin’s,” he explains, “but yeah. I didn’t want to let Chaewon down by not dressing up to code.”

He’s got remnants of makeup left on his face, having faded and smudged throughout the night. There’s a bit of black underneath his eyes from the liner, a smoldering effect that makes the dark brown of his irises even deeper. “You look tired,” you comment. “Why are you here, why don’t you go home, Jungkook? Get some sleep.”

Jungkook shrugs, looking over your shoulder to see if his arrival has woken up any of your roommates. “Your place was closer,” he says like it’s nothing.

Like it doesn’t make your breath catch in your throat, stop in its tracks. He spends an evening dressed up in a stuffy suit and tie surrounded by old businessmen and their preppy daughters with whom he has nothing in common, and when it’s nearly two in the morning and he can finally relax, he drives to your place instead of his own. Like it means nothing. As if it means anything at all.

Jungkook runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, and even knotted and messy it still looks flawless. “If I’m bothering you, just let me know. I know it’s late.”

It’s so hard to say no to him.

“Just come inside already before you wake up the neighbors,” you tell him, sighing to pretend like it’s a minor inconvenience. And even running on barely any sleep with makeup smudged underneath his eyes, Jungkook grins as you let him inside your apartment, caving in, just like you always do.

The first thing he does when he’s inside is take off his fancy loafers and peel off his suit jacket, resting it against the back of the couch. You fumble around in the kitchen for the kettle, instinctively starting to make two cups of tea. Routine.

Looking up, you watch as Jungkook loosens his tie and takes it off, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. By the counter, you turn your back to him so he doesn’t see you mentally combust. It’s impossible that he doesn’t already know what he does to you.

The kettle finishes boiling the moment Jungkook settles onto your couch. He keeps the television off so he doesn’t wake your roommates, and scrolls on his phone with his knees tucked underneath his chin. Thirty seconds later, you’re joining him, handing him the cup of tea before sitting down next to him, severely underdressed in comparison.

“Did you at least have fun tonight?” You ask.

“The food totally slapped,” Jungkook tells you. “Chaewon’s parents really pulled out all the stops.”

“So I’ve heard,” you muse.

“We spent most of the time lounging by the catering table and distracting each other by making up stories about all of the rich people there.” Jungkook laughs.

“Please tell me you didn’t embarrass yourself, though,” you say. Perhaps Jungkook could withstand a few blows to his ego, but Chaewon’s future pretty much depends on her impressing her parents and their comrades.

“No!” Jungkook tells you defensively. “Jimin told me everything I needed to know, but all of Chaewon’s friends and their filthy rich CEO parents thought I was so handsome that I didn’t even need to speak.”

You roll your eyes. Of course Jungkook wouldn’t give up the chance to remind you of his hellishly good looks.

“You just stood there, looking pretty?” You ask. Not as if he doesn’t do that already.

“You think I’m pretty?” Jungkook teases, a greasy smile sent your way, like he doesn’t know the answer anyway.

You huff. “Dressed up like this? Anyone would.”

“Chaewon said I was like her fake trophy husband,” Jungkook jokes. “She did all of the schmoozing. It’s not like I could have contributed anything anyway. Unless everyone wants to hear about C++.”

“Ooh, I love it when you talk all tech to me,” you tease, nudging him with your arm. “So sexy, keep talking.”

He laughs. “If we keep talking about Python I might get a little too excited.” He wiggles his eyebrows just for good measure and you giggle, holding onto this moment for dear life as you let it etch itself into your brain permanently. Times like these, you know you can’t forget, saving them for a rainy day thirty years down the line when you’re in love with someone that’s not Jungkook. When you look out the window and think about what might have been, if only things back in college had been a little bit different.

Jungkook’s phone buzzes on the table. He’s got two notifications, one from Instagram of Chaewon tagging him in a post, and another from Venmo.

“Fuckin’ damnit,” Jungkook swears, letting his phone drop on the couch cushion.

“What?” You ask, turning to look at him.

“Chaewon just Venmo’ed me a hundred dollars,” Jungkook says with a sigh. And it’s not one of those times when you see your bank account balance go up and get happy because yay, money!, it’s when your friend pays you anything over what they actually owe you out of the goodness of your heart, and you refuse to accept it.

“She did?” You ask, eyes widening. A hundred dollars? That’s more than Jungkook would make in three shifts at the call center.

“‘Thanks for bailing me out tonight. You definitely deserve more than 100 but then you’d be mad at me. But please don’t be mad at me!’” Jungkook reads off his phone. “I just stood there looking like eye candy. I didn’t do a thing to help her, what the heck?”

You pull out your own phone to check Chaewon’s latest post.

It’s a picture of them together in the skyscraper penthouse the gala was held in, Jungkook looking dapper in his suit with a glass of champagne in his hand, and Chaewon in a dress worth more than a semester’s tuition throwing up a peace sign like the trendy Asian she is. They look like a K-drama couple. Like two celebrities basking in their fame and wealth.

Shoutout to my one and only Jeon Jungkook for being my fake date tonight! Thanks to your good looks and charming personality for impressing all of my parents’ rich friends and their daughters. Love you 3000 💕

“Wow, whoever took this picture of the both of you knows their shit,” you say, impressed. You had always thought it impossible for Jungkook to look better in pictures than in real life, but this photo is coming rather close. If you were any more shameless, you’d ask Chaewon if she has any more photos of him. Just him, preferably.

It’s not as if she doesn’t know about your gargantuan crush on him anyway.

“I don’t think I’ve ever looked that good in a photo in my life,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Impossible. He yawns, placing his empty mug on the little end table next to the couch.

“You should set it as your profile picture,” you suggest, leaning your head on him and pretending like this is normal. He yawns again, stretching out as he rests his body against yours. “Hey, we should go to sleep. Unless you want to go home?”

Jungkook groans, snuggling in closer. “No, your bed is big enough for the two of us.”

And who are you to resist?

You wake up to the sound of a phone buzzing furiously on your bedside table. You crack open one eye just a sliver to see who the culprit is and immediately eradicate it, when the sun filtering through your Venetian blinds hits your cornea. You groan, shutting your eyes once more as you smack your hand around to get it to shut off.

The movement, however, causes the bedsheets to shift beside you, and when you turn, you find Jungkook nestled up tightly beneath your duvet, an arm stretched over your side as he hums in his sleep.

You’re best friends.

This is normal.

(The feeling of your heart beating out of its chest has become rather normal, as well.)

He’s wearing a raggedy old t-shirt of yours that has always been too big on you but fits him just perfectly and a pair of joggers that he keeps at your place “just in case”. Just in case he stays the night. Just in case you ever need them. Selfishly, you will yourself to fall back asleep, shutting your eyes tightly and pretending that maybe, if you never wake up, this moment will freeze in time, locking the two of you together for eternity.

He mumbles to himself in his sleep, a murmur of nothing as he shifts over slightly, hand dragging up your side.

God.

Next to you, the phone begins to buzz erratically again, and wide-awake, you look over to realize that it’s Jungkook’s, and that it’s Chaewon on the other end.

This is at least the second time she’s called, which means that, despite how tempting it is, you probably shouldn’t silence his phone and go back to lying in bed with Jungkook and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

Sighing, you pick up.

“Jungkook!” Chaewon shouts on the other side. For a brief moment you wonder why on earth she’s so energetic so early, but it’s less that and more the fact that you are overwhelmingly lethargic rather late in the day. “All of my friends said you looked really good in those photos I posted of us. Do you think you’re free next Wednesday night? Seunghee wants you to accompany her to a double date her parents are forcing her to go on!”

“Chaewon—”

“Oh, Y/N! How’s it going?”

“I just woke up,” you mumble quietly as Jungkook stirs beside you.

“Of course you did,” Chaewon says, and you can see her rolling her eyes on the other side of the line. “Wait, why do you have Jungkook’s phone if you just woke up? Oh my God, don’t tell me—”

“Shh!” You hiss into the phone. Jungkook is slowly beginning to wake up, and you can only pray that he isn’t listening in to the conversation between you and Chaewon. “No, we did not. He got back after your thing and we promptly passed out in my bed, fully clothed,” you whisper loudly.

“Jungkook went to your place last night? He was so tired, I thought he was going straight back to his. We even got dropped off outside my apartment.”

What? Chaewon and Jungkook live within a three-minute walk of each other. Your apartment is ten minutes away from both of them.

“You did?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“Who’s that?”

You turn around to see Jungkook lying on his back, head resting on a nearly-deflated pillow of yours as he looks up at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair is mussed, some parts styled and stiff with hair gel, and some parts tangled and unkempt. He looks like he’s been lying in that position for a while, hand resting behind his head as he gazes up at you.

“It’s Chaewon,” you tell him softly as she laughs on the other end. “She just called your phone. Are you free next Wednesday?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook, still half-asleep. “When?”

“Next Wednesday,” you repeat, a hand on the phone like it’s going to do anything to stop Chaewon from listening to you two. “Chaewon says she has a friend who wants you to accompany her to a double date she’s been set up to go on by her parents.”

“Mmmrph,” Jungkook mumbles. It’s clear he hasn’t even thought about his plans for the rest of the day, let alone next Wednesday.

“He’s not available right now,” you say into the phone. Chaewon snorts.

“Fine,” Chaewon says with a sigh. “Can you pass the message on when you guys are done pretending that you aren’t fucking behind my back?”

You suck in a breath. “Chaewon!” You hiss. “We are not—” you quickly turn back to Jungkook, who, by the looks of his hooded eyes and bewildered expression, isn’t listening in, “—fucking!” You whisper. “You know we’re not!”

Chaewon laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Call me later, Y/N, we should grab ice cream or something.” She hangs up.

“Who was that?” Jungkook asks sleepily, eyes still half-lidded as he sits up in your bed, soft skin, brown hair, pouted lips amongst a sea of white, bundled up in your thick duvet as if sitting on a cloud.

“Chaewon,” you tell him.

“Oh, why was she calling?”

“She wanted to ask if you were free next Wednesday.”

“To do what?”

Maybe you were worried about Jungkook listening in to Chaewon grill you about your relationship (or serious lack thereof) for nothing.

“She has a friend who wants you to go on a parent-mandated double date, trophy boyfriend style,” you explain. Jungkook groans.

“Pretending to know business is mentally, physically, and morally draining. It feels like I’m selling my soul to capitalism,” he says with a sigh, collapsing back against the mattress. “I just wanna stay here forever. It’s so cozy.”

“Come on, Kook,” you say, tugging the duvet off of him to reveal the rest of his body. He curls into himself at the exposure, refusing to budge. “You’ve encroached on my apartment long enough.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook whines, drawing out your name for good measure. “Noooooooo.” He reaches out to cling onto your wrist, which means that if you want him out of your bed, you’ll have to drag him out.

“Jungkook, you’re swole, you know I can’t tug you out of my bed,” you say with a pout. He knows every trick in the book to use against you, and worst of all, he knows you’re weak to all of them.

“Good,” Jungkook says with a loopy smile, pulling you back onto the bed like it’s nothing. You yelp as you come crashing on top of him, your body bumping into his as he wraps his arms around you and flops back onto your bed. You laugh and shout at the feeling as Jungkook cuddles up in the warmth of the sheets, pulling you in tightly to his body. “It’s so warm here, let’s stay like this forever.”

“What about food?”

“You keep a stash of Clif bars under your bed, we’ll eat those,” Jungkook suggests.

You attempt to wriggle out of his grip, hoping to escape before he holds you long enough to get addicted, hooked on the feeling of his arms around you, his body against yours. But Jungkook is nothing if not persistent and clingy, and he wraps his arms tightly around your torso like a koala, warm and soft. “Come on, Jungkook. It’s nearly noon. Let’s be productive today.”

“Gross.”

“Let’s not sit in bed all day.”

“Grosser. Let’s just stay in your bed all day and pretend that we don’t have any real responsibilities.”

“Given that we’re in college, that may be slightly difficult.”

“Fuck that, your GPA doesn’t matter anyway. Unless you have plans on going to grad school?” He asks with an eyebrow raise, turning to look at you.

“No way, I’m not paying for another four years of this shit,” you immediately declare. Let the capitalist system of higher education extort another two to four years worth of tuition out of you for the same degree? Absolutely not.

“Then why move?” Jungkook says with a grin.

“Because,” you say, stumbling for a real answer.

“Not good enough.” He grins cheekily. “I vote to stay in bed.”

“I vote to do my readings, your CS homework, and get back to Chaewon about Wednesday.”

“God,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “What’s Wednesday?”

“Oh my God, you need to call Chaewon. Right now. Before you ask me what you have on Wednesday one more time after losing all of your brain cells lounging around in my personal bed and refusing to leave,” you say, eyes wide as you worm your way out of his grip, dusting yourself off and heading to your closet.

“Noooooooo,” Jungkook says, reaching out a desperate hand. “Y/N, come back.”

“Call Chaewon. Call her!” You order, fishing around in your closet for some fresh clothes. You’ve been wearing the same one since Thursday night. You are disgusting.

Jungkook groans but obeys, picking up his phone and pressing her contact. “Hey Chae, it’s Jungkook. Listen, I’m literally going to Venmo you back what you paid me because you? Literally didn’t need to pay me at all? And I’m actually mad at you for it? Wait, what do you mean am I up to getting paid on Wednesday—”

The phone call presents the perfect opportunity for you to dash out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, where you splash yourself with cold tap water like a model in a face wash commercial (who already has perfect skin, so why does she need this new face wash, seriously?) to clear your head. It’s been a weird twelve hours. Even weirder knowing that across the hall, Jungkook is sitting in your room, on your bed, in your clothes, under your bed sheets. Knowing that maybe, in another universe, on another timeline, you would be in the exact same positions, only everything would be different.

You wash your face, hoping to wake yourself up. Convince your mind that the past twelve hours have been nothing but a dream, and that when you walk back into your room, Jungkook will have vanished. Or he would have never been there in the first place.

You leave the bathroom and return to your bedroom to see Jungkook tugging on his suit jacket, wearing the same clothes he had on when he knocked on your door at 2AM last night. He’s still on the phone, wrapping up the conversation with Chaewon.

“Yeah, yeah, tell her that I’m down. She can just text me, give her my number. I’m happy to do this for you and your friends, Chae. Plus, she’s gonna pay me and I feel less bad about it because it’s a service and she’s not a close friend like you are. Yeah, it’s all good,” he looks up to see you standing at the door, leaning against the frame. “Yeah, Y/N just got back so I’m gonna go. Maybe we can grab dinner or something tonight? Cool. Bye.”

“Dinner without me?” You ask with a pout.

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. “You’re always invited.”

“Have you figured out what’s going on on Wednesday?” You tease him as you walk him to the door.

“Chaewon has a friend, Soojin, who wants me to accompany her on a parent-mandated double date with a business partner’s daughter,” Jungkook explains. “Apparently all of Chaewon’s friends realized I make a pretty good fake trophy boyfriend.”

You rub his shoulder. He’d make a great real boyfriend too. Not that you think about that all of the time, or anything. “Gonna put that on your resume, big guy?”

“Of course.” Jungkook smiles. “Dinner tonight? We can go to the ramen place you really like.”

“Sure thing, is Chaewon coming?”

“If she wants to. Otherwise, it’ll just be us.”

“Sounds good,” you tell him. “See you then.”

“Hopefully before,” Jungkook says. “Thanks for letting me crash here last night, by the way.”

“Anytime,” you say. Maybe one day, it’ll be true.

Next Wednesday, there’s a knock on your door at midnight.

Who else could it be?

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. And then it was supposed to be just a two-time thing. And before you knew it, Jungkook’s number and his services were circling through the ring of wealthy international students, jumping from phone to phone as people crammed to get him to accompany them on their next double date, next business gala, next ballroom dance.

You had always had a feeling that his charming, charismatic personality would eventually draw everybody towards him, so electric and magnetic that you couldn’t help but want to know him, make friends with him, be close to him. From the moment you saw his Facebook introduction post, you knew it was only a matter of time before everyone on campus knew his name.

[October 17th, 4:12PM] You: do u want to get dinner tonight

Jungkook: would love to but have to go to kim family business dinner with dahyun sorry :(

You: ok next time then!

[October 23rd, 1:03PM]

You: yo what r u doing You: i have so many readings to do rip You: do u wanna come to greene w me and study

Jungkook: heejin is taking me shopping for a fancy suit for her family’s event tomorrow i can’t :/ Jungkook: but i am going to get macaroons for u at the mall so we can see each other later!

You: yummm sure thing!

[October 30th, 9:58AM]

You: hey ik you’re asleep rn but we are still on for tomorrow right? 🎃 You: can’t let our one (1) year long halloween tradition of buying last-minute candy and watching the nightmare before christmas together die

[October 30th, 11:13PM]

Jungkook: omg i just saw this now im so sorry Jungkook: uh yeonjoo wants me to go to her sister’s halloween party tm so idk if i can make it this year

[October 31st, 2:02AM]

You: ok You: thanks for telling me

It’s no fun watching The Nightmare Before Christmas by yourself, you realize this Halloween. All of your roommates are out frequenting one of the hundreds of parties being thrown on campus tonight, and although you’d normally be up for getting drunk and dropping it low, you just aren’t in the Halloween spirit this year. Wonder why.

Armed with the knowledge that your roommates probably won’t be back until three or four in the morning, you shut your laptop and decide to go to bed early. Early being midnight, but it’s early for you and that’s all that really matters.

You don’t know why you’re being such a stick in the mud this Halloween. It’s always been one of your favorite holidays, never one to pass up free candy nor the option to dress up, but this one has been particularly lame. You don’t have a costume, your local drugstore is out of mini Skittles packets, and you don’t have someone to spend it with.

Realistically, you have no reason to be sad that Jungkook isn’t available tonight. It’s not as if spending Halloween together is some ancient tradition from birth that binds the two of you together. You did it for the first time as freshmen, and you were foolishly hoping to do the same thing as sophomores. It’s not a tradition if it only happened once.

You look in the bathroom mirror, stained with nail polish and dry shampoo and old skincare, and you sigh. Jungkook has every right to prioritize his current and only source of income over a night spent lounging on the couch doing nothing. It’s not as if you haven’t seen your best friend in over a month and this was the only night you both had free. Jungkook drops by after every single event he goes on. Every single one. He stands outside your door dressed in a fancy suit, or a silk button down, leather shoes and expensive jewelry bought for him by the girls he goes out with.

No matter the time, he knocks on your door and says hello, steals a cup of tea and a bit of your heart along with it, before bouncing out of your living room and off to his own apartment. He doesn’t stay the night anymore, doesn’t worm his way underneath your duvet and refuse to move until morning comes. It’s hard to tell if you’re grateful about it or not.

Sluggishly, you peel off your clothes and wash your face, changing into some old sweatpants from the tenth grade and a t-shirt with an embarrassingly large hole in the armpit. This Halloween, you are dressing up as a lonely college student who is going to bed early on Halloween night because she has nothing better to do!

There’s a knock on your door.

Your first instinct is to freeze up. When there’s another knock, your second instinct is to grab the closest object to you (which happens to be your water bottle) for self-defense.

And then, you hear,

“You’re not watching The Nightmare before Christmas without me, are you?”

To spare yourself the shame, you won’t say that you practically leapt out of bed the moment you heard his voice. You calmly removed the covers, and casually walked to the front door. That is what you did.

When you open it, Jungkook is standing behind it, grinning, wearing the greasiest police officer outfit you’ve ever seen in your entire life. This flew at a marketing company’s heir’s Halloween party? He’s even got what looks to be a fully-loaded water gun in his holster.

“Don’t tell me this is what you wore to some fancy-shmancy Halloween party,” you say disapprovingly, eyebrows raised as you look him up and down and pretend that you aren’t just ogling his figure.

“It was fine, Yeonjoo’s sister just graduated college. If anything, she was more okay with it than Yeonjoo was,” Jungkook says with a shrug. You don’t even need to let him in at this point, just watch as he tugs off his shoes and steps inside your apartment like it belongs to him.

“What was Yeonjoo dressed as?”

“Princess Leia. We made for a very mismatched pair,” Jungkook says, chuckling to himself. “Ooh, did you guys get new tea?”

“You can have some if you want,” you tell him, shutting the door as he eagerly pulls out a box of teabags, turning on the electric kettle on the counter. “I think it’s Wild Berry Hibiscus.”

“Sounds good already,” Jungkook says, and he lets out a sigh that sounds so exhausted, so tired and aching, as he leans back against the countertop, head resting on the cupboards above it.

“You could have gone home, you know,” you tell him. Even from the couch you can see the droop in his shoulders, the bags under his eyes. He’s been going out several times every week for the past month, and he still has a truckload of CS assignments on top. He spends precious hours schmoozing with wealthy businessmen and women, shaking people’s hands and posing for pictures in the fanciest clothes he owns and then some. The selfish part of you wants him to stay. The part that loves him knows it would be better if he went home. “You still can.”

“No,” Jungkook insists, shaking his head. “We have a tradition to uphold, don’t we?”

Even though The Nightmare Before Christmas is seventy-six minutes long, the night ends long before that. You haven’t even reached “This Is Halloween” before you feel a head hit your shoulder, and crane your neck to find Jungkook having fallen fast asleep beside you, half-full cup of Wild Berry Hibiscus next to the laptop in front of you. He’s still wearing his stupid police officer costume, the navy blue uniform tight against his body. His lips are parted ever so softly, eyelashes fluttering as little non-sounds exit his mouth, hints, whispers of snores.

He hasn’t slept over since the first time. You’re not sure if you want the trend to continue, or if you just want to be a little bit selfish tonight, greedy, taking and taking and taking. He’s so beautiful like this, so innocent and gentle and soft. It would be such a shame if you had to wake him.

And so, gingerly, you rest your head against his own, breathe in the quiet little sounds that leave his parted lips, memorize the feeling. It’s not the first time Jungkook’s accidentally fallen asleep on you, but there is something about this moment, sitting on your couch a few minutes past midnight, as the rest of the world celebrates around you, that is so intimate. Like here, in your apartment, you and Jungkook have your own little bubble, tucked away in a corner of the universe far from the noise of the rest of the world. And it’s here that you wish you could stay forever, for once never wanting the feeling to end. Wanting time to freeze in its very steps, the clocks stop and the orbit halts, and it is just you and Jungkook, forever. Like characters in a movie, on pause for eternity.

The moment ends when Jungkook shifts beside you before eventually coming to, slowly opening his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, dazed and tired, as he sits up properly, staring down at your half-opened laptop and the half-full cup of tea next to it.

“Thought you’d end up sleeping here again tonight,” you joke, even though it isn’t really a joke. Maybe, somewhere deep down inside you, in the crevices between your bones and the dark corner of your heart, you had hoped that he would stay.

“Oh, did I fall asleep?” Jungkook asks, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. It’s nearly two-thirty in the morning.

“Just for a bit. I didn’t want to wake you, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to head back to your apartment or anything,” you tell him.

Jungkook nearly jumps up off the couch at that, like he’s got springs in his shoes. Suddenly he’s wide awake, brown eyes blown open as he scrambles to gather his belongings, taking the cup of tea and quickly dumping it out in your sink.

“Hey, don’t you want that?” You ask.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll come by some other time and have some, it was really good, I just fell asleep while drinking it,” Jungkook sputters, words moving a mile a minute as he tugs on his heavy black officer boots, scuffed at the tips from wear and tear. It’s as if he’s desperate to leave. Like your apartment has somehow offended him. Or worse, you.

“If you want to stay, Jungkook, you can,” you tell him, standing up to run to the door before he pulls the damn thing off his hinges with how fast he’s moving. “I don’t mind. My bed is big enough for the both of us.”

“No, I should—I should get going. My… plants need watering. Right now. I totally forgot.”

It’s not a completely bullshit excuse. Jungkook has a fair few pothos amongst his other worldly apartment belongings, hanging from his ceiling or potted in old mugs and janky shoes. But it’s still a pretty bullshit excuse. It’s dark. Jungkook waters his plants every Sunday, and it’s Friday. It’s obvious he wants to get the hell out of your apartment for whatever reason.

All you can do is hope and pray that it isn’t you who’s driving him away.

“Oh—okay,” you tell him, opening the door as he furiously laces up his other boot.

“Thanks for doing this. Next Halloween will be more fun, I swear. I won’t fall asleep on you. Or anything.”

“Okay, see you soon, then?” You ask, searching for a clue, a hint, anything that will tell you that it’s not you, that he hasn’t found you out yet. That you can still be friends, be best friends, because even if you want to kiss him, hold his hand, roll around in bed with him, loving him from afar is good enough.

“Yes, yes, definitely. Dinner? Uh… sometime this week? I’ll text you. I have to go. Plants. See you!”

He dashes down the hallway.

And you end your Halloween the same way you started it. Alone.

Jungkook ran out of your apartment the other day like it was infested with cockroaches. Or the Black Plague. Or your microwave had just beeped. It was as if simply being inside it was going to scar him for life.

Maybe your apartment is cursed. Jungkook does believe in ghosts. That’s another reason as to why he fears the microwave. Tiny ghosts could be living inside the microwave chamber and you’d never know. But Jungkook knows better. He knows that they’re there.

“He just… ran out?” Chaewon asks, clearly bewildered. The two of you have been working on the first floor of the library all day, obviously doing everything in your power to not actually complete any of your assignments.

“Yeah, something about his plants.” You sigh.

Chaewon narrows her eyes, the same way she does when she’s plotting something. “Interesting.”

“What?” You ask, nudging her to see if you can worm a less mysterious response out of her.

“Nothing,” Chaewon says with a nonchalant shrug. She clearly has something to say.

“What?” You repeat forcefully. Chaewon doesn’t get to go all cryptic on you just because Jungkook ran out of your apartment like it had set fire.

“I know I’ve only known you guys for, like, a year and a bit now, but you two have the strangest relationship I’ve ever seen,” Chaewon comments like it’s nobody’s business when it is, in fact, specifically two people’s business.

You scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just…” She pauses, thinking. In the silence, she begins to pack up her belongings, shoving her laptop into her bag and gathering up the small pile of candy wrappers slowly amassing in front of her. “I’ve never seen two best friends have a relationship quite like yours.”

“Thanks?”

“What are you doing for dinner? I’m eating with Yoonji, but you’re welcome to join if you want,” Chaewon offers. Even though you have no idea who Yoonji is, Chaewon would never exclude you from eating with them.

“I’m getting Korean food with Jungkook, but thanks for the offer,” you say, only to be greeted with Chaewon rolling her eyes. He said he’d meet us outside?”

Sure enough, when you head out of the glass doors at the front of the library, Jungkook is waiting dutifully on a bench close by, headphones in as he nods his head and taps his feet to the beat of the music, lost in his own world. He doesn’t even realize that you’ve left the library until you’re two feet in front of him, when he recognizes your beat-up white sneakers and looks up at you in glee, eyes crinkled into crescents.

“Ready to go?” You ask happily. Your stomach has been rumbling ever since Jungkook suggested you go out to eat this morning.

“Hell yeah I am,” Jungkook says, putting his earbuds away as he stands up. “You coming, Chae?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m eating with a friend.” There’s nudge against your shoulder, and when you turn to face her, she winks. “But you two enjoy yourselves! Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Before you can publicly berate her for being so goddamn obvious, she’s rotating 180 degrees on her heel and speed-walking in the opposite direction, zooming off so you don’t get the chance.

“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages,” you comment mindlessly. Twenty-four hours away from Jungkook feels like a lifetime and a half. Forty-eight is a light year.

“I’ve been busy,” Jungkook says vaguely, shrugging his shoulders.

“Doing what, going out to fancy restaurants and galas?” You half-tease. It’s sad but true—Jungkook spends his nights living a life you could only dream of. And all of these rituals you share, from studying in the library until three in the morning to crashing at his place and taking naps on separate couches, get put on the backburner.

“Hey, it’s hard work pretending to be rich,” Jungkook pouts. “Besides, the craziest thing about going to those things is that rich Korean people don’t serve Korean food at their fancy gatherings. They serve shit like caviar.”

“Is that why you’re so desperate to get Korean?” You ask pointedly.

“Yes,” Jungkook emphasizes. “Man, I just want some tteokbokki.”

“Then we’ll go and eat all of the tteokbokki you can dream of,” you promise. You round the street corner and on the edge of the main road and an alleyway sits a tiny Korean restaurant the size of a bedroom, no more than six cramped tables inside. It’s run by a family who passes it down through each generation, dependent on the starving college students nearby to keep it alive.

It’s Jungkook’s favorite place. The owner gives him a discount every time he sees him.

(It’s impossible not to fall in love with Jungkook. Impossible to not be drawn to his presence, his personality. Like moths to a flame, you can’t help but come closer.)

“Ah, Jungkook!” The old man behind the counter greets as the bell above the entrance rings. “Sit! Sit!” He points to your favorite table, a round one in the far left corner that’s right next to the biggest window. “Usual?”

“Tteokbokki, too, please!” Jungkook shouts. The man gives you both a thumbs up and heads back into the kitchen.

“It’s been a while since we came here,” Jungkook notices. You both usually eat lunch on campus and Jungkook has been largely unavailable for dinner.

“Almost sounds like you missed it,” you poke fun.

“God, I missed it so much,” Jungkook exclaims, tilting his head back in exasperation. “I didn’t realize that it would be so much work to get dressed up in a suit and look hot.”

“Don’t make it sound like such a drag.” You frown. Jungkook needs to put in literally zero effort to look hot. Sitting across from him in this tiny Korean restaurant as he wears nothing but a massive hoodie and black joggers, he looks hot. When he wakes up in your bed in a raggedy t-shirt, he looks hot. When you catch him at three in the morning in the library after eighteen straight hours of studying, he looks hot.

Jungkook sits there and radiates light. Radiates warmth and joy and beauty. Laughter and hope. He’s the college version of a Disney prince. Perfectly imperfect and completely out of your reach.

“I wish I could take you with me, you might enjoy it,” Jungkook sighs. “Plus, I have literally never seen you wear something fancier than business casual. Imagine you in a ballgown!”

“In your dreams, Jeon,” you rebuke. “Free catered food sounds nice but having to mingle with the 1% does not.”

“Touché,” Jungkook concedes. “I don’t know how Chaewon does it.”

“She’s a goddess.”

“Indeed.”

Jungkook pours you a cup of water from the pitcher that the old man dropped off, and then pours one for himself. “Chaewon said that I did well, though.”

Not surprising. Jungkook excels at everything he does.

“Of course you did, you sexy beast,” you chide.

“She said I’d make a good boyfriend.”

You choke on your water as the man’s son brings out your food, and you desperately attempt to avoid eye contact as you sputter and cough into a napkin, gaze pointed away from both a surprised waiter and a concerned Jungkook, who awkwardly thanks the man and leans over to pat your back.

“You good?” He asks, brows furrowed.

Coughing, you say, “I’m okay, I’m okay. It just—it went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.” Jungkook doesn’t buy it, and the little coughs escaping your throat don’t do much to corroborate your claim. “Seriously, Jungkook. I’m okay. It’s just water.”

“You looked like you were on the verge of death,” Jungkook frowns.

“That’s just my face,” you fire back. “Just keep talking about what you were saying earlier. What was it?”

“Being a good boyfriend,” Jungkook says, and with no water near your lips to distract you this time, your mind bears the full force of his words, weighing down on your shoulders like a calculus textbook.

It’s not as if you aren’t already aware that Jungkook would be the best boyfriend in the entire world, bar none. Not as if you don’t sit in bed and dream of a parallel universe, a life other than the one you’re living in right now, where Jungkook is lovely and wonderful and yours. He knocks on your door at a random hour in the afternoon with Chinese takeout from the local restaurant. He remembers your homework assignments when you forget them. He sits in bed with you and judges the Instagrams of the guys on the latest Bachelorette season. It’s as if he was already yours.

“Believe me,” you scoff. “The people know how great of a boyfriend you are.”

“It’s fake, though,” Jungkook reminds you. “It’s only for a night. An evening, really.”

“Better than nothing,” you sigh. “If only I had enough money to rent myself a fake boyfriend for a night.”

“If only your parents were the CEOs of a multibillion dollar cooperation,” Jungkook adds on.

“Truth,” you say, and you and Jungkook toast to that. Toast to knowing that some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Toast to knowing that some of those people can get for themselves something you can only imagine in your wildest dreams—a night with Jungkook. More than just a night. A night spent dressed up in your fanciest clothes, arms wrapped tightly around each other. A night spent as a couple, rather than you and Jungkook.

Toast to knowing that even if you’ll never get to have him like that, you get to have him like this, and you’d rather it be like this than nothing at all.

“You don’t need to rent a fake boyfriend for a night, Y/N,” Jungkook tells you once you’ve downed the water in your glasses (stay hydrated!). “You shouldn’t feel pressured to spend time with people you don’t want to spend time with.”

You don’t understand, you sigh. I’d give anything to spend time with you.

Jungkook pays. He says that he’s made more money accompanying wealthy socialites—even ones that don’t go to your school, because word gets around—than he would in a month’s worth of shifts at the call center. He says he’s never looking back. He’s probably not going to give up the gig for a while, either.

“Just because you have cash now doesn’t mean you get a free pass to pay for everything we do together,” you warn. You’ve always split the price of meals, split the price birthday cakes for your friends. In the beginning of freshman year, Jungkook ate a quarter of a bag of goldfish you had and paid you fifty-three cents to account for his consumption, which you immediately sent back to him. You still fight over it, finding surreptitious ways to incorporate it into the Venmo payments you make to each other.

“I’m rich, I can do whatever I want with my money,” Jungkook proclaims. “And if that means treating my best friend to a meal, then that means I’m gonna treat her to a meal.”

“That’s very rude of you,” you tell him pointedly. “Zero out of ten, worst best friend in the entire world. Will not accept my Venmo payments.”

Walking down the sidewalk, side by side, Jungkook wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a side hug as you come to a stop at a traffic light. “You always do so much for me and Chaewon. You deserve to be treated once in a while, Y/N.”

“Why, ‘cause I go out to CVS at ten at night to get you Nyquil after you catch the common cold from some sweaty guy at the gym?”

“That,” Jungkook nods, conceding, “and also because you’re one of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. The people who know you are lucky to get to say your name.”

If only Jungkook knew that he was the exact same. It’s an honor to know him. It’s a blessing to love him.

“What fancy clothes do you own?” Chaewon’s lying on your bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone.

“I don’t know,” you respond, brows furrowing. You get up from your desk chair to start fishing through your closet, “I have, like, some business casual stuff.”

“How about a dress?”

You whip around suspiciously, eyeing Chaewon as she lounges around in your room and acts like she isn’t plotting something nefarious. “Don’t you think you could tell me what you’re trying to convince me to do before you ask me if I have the appropriate clothing?”

Even lying on her back, Chaewon still manages to roll her eyes, sitting up to meet your gaze. “There’s a gala tonight to celebrate some big business deal being closed and I want you to come with me,” she says like it’s a chore, exasperated.

“Me?” You frown. “Why not Jungkook?”

“He said he had some thing to do for some other girl,” Chaewon says. The topic clearly is not at the forefront of her mind. It’s a little too obvious that it’s at the forefront of yours. “Besides, I was given no date restrictions and you deserve to have a little fun tonight. It’s a Friday!”

“I just want to stay in bed and play Legend of Zelda,” you tell her.

“You’re already out of bed,” Chaewon points out unhelpfully.

“Well, then I want to get into bed and play Legend of Zelda,” you rephrase.

Chaewon pouts. “Noooo, please? It’ll be fun, I swear,” Chaewon pleads. “It’s a huge party and hundreds of people are going to be there. Everybody gets to bring a plus one. You won’t be the only person who doesn’t know anything about business and has to cling onto their date in order to survive.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me want to go so much,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N. When was the last time you went out on a Friday?”

A while ago. You and Jungkook started having Mario Kart nights on Friday in the middle of your freshman year after you both came to the conclusion that every frat party smells, sounds, and tastes like the same fifty shades of college regret. You haven’t gone out since.

“Not that long ago,” you lie. It’s been months.

“Yeah, right,” Chaewon scoffs. “Don’t think I don’t see your Bitmoji on the SnapMap sitting in your damn apartment on a Friday at 11PM,” she scolds.

“I’m gonna turn off my location,” you declare. You’ve had enough of Snapchat exposing you and your location. People can live in mystery about your whereabouts from now on. They don’t need to know. Chaewon certainly does not.

“No excuses, you’re coming with me to the gala! You must have something to wear in that closet of yours, don’t you?” She slides off of your bed with a thud and joins you as you stand in front of your clothes. None of them scream fancy. None of them even whisper it. You stand back as she shuffles through your clothes, hangers squeaking as she shoves them along the rail. Chaewon tears through your clothing faster than you skim through your economics readings. “Aha! What do we have here?”

She whips out a dress from the very back of your closet, right behind the blazer you never wear because you’d rather be caught dead than in business attire. It’s old—you don’t think you’ve worn it since the beginning of your freshman year when you thought you actually had to dress up for parties. Needless to say, you dry-cleaned it the following Monday and never wore it again. You don’t even recall bringing it to college this year.

“This is perfect!” Chaewon cries. “Really says ‘I can fucking dress myself’, don’t you think?”

“Are you implying that I can’t dress myself?”

“You should definitely wear this,” Chaewon decides, dodging the question. “Gucci and Louis Vuitton are overrated, anyway.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I.” Chaewon thrusts the dress towards you.

Chaewon shakes her head. “Of course you don’t.”

Three hours later finds you one makeup and hair session later, standing in the lobby of a magnificent skyscraper wearing a dress that maybe could have done without the cup of frozen yogurt that you ate before you arrived. Now you remember why you haven’t really worn it since the beginning of last year. Has it shrunk?

“I feel like a loser, Chaewon,” you hiss as she bats her eyelashes and gets directed to the private elevator that will lead you both to the top floor. “A money-less, jobless loser.”

“At least you’re honest, Y/N,” Chaewon whispers back as you step into the elevator. Despite being nearly an hour and a half late (“Fashionably so!” Chaewon exclaims.) you are crowded into the back corner, several other couples stepping inside to join you, all of them wearing clothes that cost more than your tuition for all four years of college, combined. “That’s better than most of the people here.”

Nothing separates the rich from the poor like morality.

When the elevator doors open, you and Chaewon are the last group to step out, milling about in the corner until the path is free. And when you turn your gaze away from her, you realize just why Jungkook’s so keen on going to events like these, why he never turns down an offer when it lights up his phone screen.

In movies, rich people flaunt their wealth so extravagantly that it almost looks fake. From gigantic ice sculptures to ten-feet-tall chocolate fountains, entire orchestras and dresses worth thousands of dollars, it makes you wonder if rich people really do see those items as necessities when throwing a party. They rent out entire European castles and the press publicizes every one of their actions. To you, it looks contrived, unrealistic. Even if rich people have enough money to sustain the bottom 99% for hundreds of years, how could they spend their money on nonsense like this?

As it turns out, the ice sculptures and chocolate fountains are only half of the story.

At this gala, the hosts have spared no expense. The entire penthouse is made purely of glass, from the ceiling, to the floor, to the walls in between, giving you an absolutely breathtaking view of the city lights dozens of feet below you, of the stars millions of light years away. It’s as if you’re standing in a bubble, frozen in time, the world sparkling and twinkling and shimmering around you. You didn’t even know a place like this existed on Earth. The price to book it must be astronomical. The view, even more so.

“Holy fuck,” you murmur, mouth dropping open at the sight. It’s a movie come to life. It’s a picture straight out of a fairytale.

“Pretty sweet, right?” Chaewon says, clearly proud of herself for convincing you to join her. “The Parks and the Ohs really felt like celebrating.”

“No shit,” you say, dumbfounded. Chaewon wraps her arm around yours and leads you out of the elevator, her poise and grace akin to that of a princess. She’s been to this place before. She could do this in her sleep.

“Pictures first, then we eat, and then we mingle,” Chaewon instructs, and you nod diligently. She’s the only way you’re going to make it out of this night unscathed. Without her, you don’t know what you’d do.

On the average day of an average life of an average person, pictures means getting a stranger to take a single pic on your shitty iPhone at your worst angle, which you will begrudgingly post to your Instagram later after extensive editing.

But this is not your average day, and these are not average lives of not average people. Pictures means professional photographers with entire setups, standing with their cameras held up to their eyes, poised and ready for the next shot. It means couples, one by one, stepping in front of a gorgeous backdrop and posing, over and over, as five photographers at once cram to get their best angle, the cleanest photo.

You don’t know how to pose for photos. You barely remember what the proper formatting is for your essays, depending on the citation structure. And yet, Chaewon is ushering you over in front of the photographers, immediately striking one of her classic, perfect poses as you flail about, trying to figure out what to do with your hands.

“Just relax,” Chaewon advises. Even standing beside you, she can see you panicking in her periphery. “And smile. You’re beautiful, so show them that.”

Eventually, as the photographers switch positions to get different angles, you stop worrying about your hands, stop worrying about your bag, your feet, your head tilt, and just grin. You may not have millions of dollars to your name, but it’s a Friday night and you’re living the life of a billionaire with no responsibilities. You deserve to live a little.

When the next group comes up, Chaewon nudges you out of the way and whispers to one of the photographers, who nods dutifully in response. Wrapping her arm around yours once more, she guides you to the massive catering setup, tables and tables lined with delicacies from every country you could imagine. And of course, a gargantuan chocolate fountain in the middle of it all.

Your stomach rumbles. Clearly, the frozen yogurt was not enough to hold you off. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve been eating college dining hall food for weeks now, and are probably going to throw up if you have to have dry beef one more time.

“If you want to, you should try the caviar. It’s delicious. Avoid the eggplant, it tastes like foot, but the brussel sprouts are delicious. Kimchi’s good, too. Classic,” Chaewon instructs as you walk around the tables, placing servings the size of quarters onto your plate just so you can have a taste of everything. Chaewon sticks to some ribs, pan-seared salmon, and a vegetable so expensive you’ve never even heard of it before.

“Im Chaewon, is that you?”

“Mrs. Kim!”

A strange older woman comes up to the two of you as you’re dishing up, and Chaewon’s face immediately lights up. The woman goes in for a hug, a barely-touching pat of the shoulders and hands. Over her shoulder, you watch as Chaewon rolls her eyes and pulls a face.

“How are you, dear? You look so grown up,” Mrs. Kim says. You watch as the light slowly fades from Chaewon’s eyes with each second that passes.

“I’m very well, Mrs. Kim. Did you get your hair done? It makes you look so youthful.” Chaewon’s a master. She glares at you when Mrs. Kim isn’t looking, raising her eyebrows as if to say learn, young padawan. This is how it’s done. They go on for a couple minutes, showering fake compliments on each other as you slowly begin to eat. You scrunch your nose up. Chaewon’s right. The eggplant does taste like foot.

“And who is this?” Mrs. Kim asks, turning her focus onto you. You look up like a deer in headlights, a brussel sprout puffing your cheek. You were not meant to mingle and eat at the same time.

“This is one of my closest friends, Y/N,” Chaewon introduces for you. You nod your hello, chewing the brussel sprout in the most nondescript manner possible in an effort to save whatever is left of your dignity. “She’s pre-law.”

You are not pre-law.

“Oh, how wonderful! You must have a lot you want to accomplish in life,” Mrs. Kim says. God, you couldn’t care less about how Mrs. Kim feels about you.

“Yes, definitely,” you say awkwardly.

“We really must be going, Mrs. Kim. My parents will want me to make sure I do my rounds,” Chaewon says, a hand on your arm as she makes to get you both the fuck out of there.

“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Kim concedes, sending you and Chaewon one final goodbye before moving on to find her next victim.

When she leaves, Chaewon seems to let out the biggest exhale of her life. “Holy fucking shit, I thought she’d never leave,” she exclaims, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it in a single go. “She’s an associate of my father’s, so she’s always trying to kiss my damn ass. Like, sorry that you need to brown-nose your boss and his daughter just so you bribe your idiot son’s way into college.”

“You like mingling, I take?” You joke.

“Just murder me.”

“Have any tips?”

“Flex as hard as possible without actually flexing. Try to speak to people your age because they are usually more bearable than people older than you. The best conversationalists are anybody under the age of ten,” Chaewon tells you. She picks up another glass of Prosecco. “Want some champagne?”

“You have it,” you tell her. “I think you need it more than I do.”

Chaewon shrugs. Not as if they’re running out any time soon. She gulps it down and places it on the tray of one of the caterers as they whiz by her.

The rest of the night passes by in the same way the beginning of it did. Chaewon drags you around the penthouse, talking with her father’s business partners and associates and their sons and daughters and husbands and wives for no more than two minutes each before moving on. She’s got her technique down pat. Greet, compliment, shade, flex, compliment, say goodbye. It’s foolproof, because you immediately notice that everyone else in the room has adopted the same approach.

Business gatherings like these are just one big game of who can be the most-liked and the least-liked at the same time. And the answer: everybody, all at once.

Halfway through the evening, Chaewon collapses against the back wall, totally unafraid of the possibility of the glass giving out behind her. She doesn’t care. If it breaks, it breaks.

“Tired?”

“I just need a break,” Chaewon declares. “Because everyone in here is so fucking fake, and you’re the only one I can talk to without wanting to rip out my eardrums.”

“I’m honored,” you say sarcastically.

“When I say you’re the only honest one here, I mean it,” Chaewon says. You lean back against the wall next to her, looking out into a sea of people in fancy clothes with fancy food and fancy friends. “Look at all these people, Y/N. All these fucking people, and you’re the only one who’s true.”

And then, you spot him.

He’s far away, standing in a group of people you don’t recognize, a hand on the small of another girl’s back. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, tight-fitting and tailored, a silver watch sparkling on his wrist as he adjusts his sleeves. One of the other young men in the group says something funny, and he tilts his head back to laugh, chuckling as the girl beside him curls into his arms.

You suppose it would have been ignorant of you to assume Jungkook was elsewhere on a night like this, at a gathering where everybody who knows anybody is here.

Jungkook must not know you’re here. He mustn't, otherwise he would have come over to find you. You must have entered at different times, spent the night wandering around different parts of the penthouse. Clinging onto Chaewon’s arms, you must have avoided his gaze, and he, yours.

Chaewon hasn’t spotted him either. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better, if you’re the only one stuck with the knowledge that he’s here tonight. Chaewon would pity you. Other people would ask you how you knew such a worldly, experienced man like him. And you would spend the night wallowing in sadness, wondering why it’s never you that gets to spend the night next to him.

From this distance, you can see Jungkook perfectly. The light from the moon shines down on him like a goddamn spotlight, catching the sparkling on his wrist, leaving a silver gleam in his slicked back hair. You watch as he laughs, smiles, talks, grins and beams and socializes. Of course he’s here. Of course. He’s so good at this, so good at being real and genuine and happy.

Chaewon says the only person in the room who is true is you, but how can that be? How can that be when Jungkook, the most honest, wonderful, real person you know, is standing in front of you? You aren’t honest. You aren’t true and real and whole. You stand on the sidelines, a wallflower in a room of daisies and roses, and pine from afar. Watch as he pretends to date a girl that’s not you, wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her cheek, and you act like everything is alright.

It sucks, being trapped like this for fear of him seeing you. You know that would be worse—if he saw you standing alone and decided to take matters into his own hands. Seeing him up close in a penthouse like this, a movie set, shimmering and sparkling, it would be worse. Jungkook pulls the girl beside him in close to his side, smiling as he listens to someone else speak. She’s the perfect height in those heels, just tall enough to rest her head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. You imagine them walking into the room together, hand in hand. Imagine them posing for the pictures like a real couple, a pair of celebrities.

You suppose you have no reason to be jealous of her, of him, of what they have. Jealousy is when resenting someone for having something that you once had. You never had a life like that with Jungkook. You’ll never have a life like that with him. Never get dressed up to go out, never get to be his date to an event. Never get pictures taken of you as a couple, never feed each other candies and strawberries dipped in chocolate. You can’t be jealous of her. You were never in the running to begin with.

“Ready to get back out there?” Chaewon asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

A waiter comes by with a tray of champagne flutes, offering it to the both of you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chaewon tells you as she takes a glass for herself.

You sigh, casting another glance over at Jungkook. He and his date are moving around now, joining another social circle on the opposite side of the penthouse. He looks so at ease, so comfortable. He belongs there, in the middle of it all, talking and laughing and grinning. And you? You belong back at home, underneath your duvet covers playing a game of Mario Kart. Not here.

You shake your head. You could use a drink or two in this state. “I’d love one, actually. Thank you.”

That night, you stay at Chaewon’s place.

“You’ve been acting weird.”

“Hello to you, as well,” you say with a scowl as Chaewon sits down across from you at the local ramen place.

“Listen,” Chaewon begins, “I’ve been thinking. You need to confess to Jungkook.”

You nearly spit out the complimentary water you were served. “Excuse me?”

“You need to. You’ve been acting weird and that’s the only thing that’s going to fix it,” Chaewon declares.

“What do you mean I’ve been ‘acting weird’? Care to explain?” You ask, offended. You haven’t been acting weird. Well, that weird. Maybe a little weird.

“Jungkook told me you haven’t seen each other for the last eight days,” Chaewon points out. Eight days? It’s more like seven and a half. Not that you’ve been counting, or anything.

“So? We’re busy people,” you defend. It’s a good enough excuse. You’re sophomores in college. You have classes. Clubs. You have to meal prep.

“So? You guys are best friends. You make time to see each other at three in the fucking morning if you haven’t seen each other yet that day. And you haven’t seen each other for eight whole days? What’s wrong with you?” Chaewon demands.

“Nothing! What the heck, I invite you out to a best friend ramen date and you just blaspheme all over me like this?” You accuse. This is not how you imagined today to be going. This isn’t how you imagined this week to be going. “Besides, it’s only been seven and a half days. He’s over-exaggerating.”

“Seven and a—holy fuck, you are literally the worst. Can you just stop resisting? If you tell him, everything will be fine and go back to the way things were,” Chaewon says, blinking, flabbergasted.

“No, they will not,” you hiss. “Everything will change if I tell him. We’re best friends, Chae. Imagine if I told you that I loved you. What would you do?”

“I’d love you back, that’s what!” Chaewon tells you. “You deserve to be loved back, Y/N. Nothing would change between us. I already love you. You’re one of my most favorite people ever. I would never regret something if it was with you.”

“It’s different with him, though,” you try to explain. You don’t know why—you just know that it is. The way you’re friends with Chaewon and the way you’re friends with Jungkook are entirely separate. You love Chaewon. You’re not in love with Chaewon.

“Is it? How?” Chaewon says.

“I don’t know, I just—it’s different with him.” There’s no way to describe it. Jungkook appeared in your life and it was as if everything just clicked into place. There isn’t a single thing in your life that makes more sense to you than Jungkook. “It’s always been different with him. With you, I—I knew that we would become really close friends once we started talking a lot more in the beginning of freshman year. But with him—I don’t know. From the moment I met him, I knew that I would fall in love with him. When he said hello to me, I was fucked. There’s never been any hope for me, Chae. I just have to live like this forever.”

Chaewon rolls her eyes. “No, you don’t. You don’t even see what the fuck is right in front of you.”

“You?”

“God, I’m friends with idiots. Literal idiots. How you guys have made it through nearly a year and a half of college is beyond me,” Chaewon says to nobody in particular. “Seriously, tell me, Y/N. What do you think will happen if you tell him? Just out of curiosity.”

“I don’t know—” you pause. A lot of things. He tells you he just wants to stay friends. He rejects you because he’s not interested that way and you can’t really be friends anymore because it’s weird now. He’s already interested in somebody else. He’s already dating somebody else and you never even knew. He’s not looking for a relationship right now. Things get awkward because you confessed to your best friend that you’re in love with him and he doesn’t feel the same. You end up never speaking to each other. You never see each other. You go through the rest of university seeing each other on the Green by chance and not knowing what to do. You graduate and move on with your lives. And suddenly, he’s just a past friend you used to have. No longer a part of your life. No longer given the chance to. “He rejects me. We never speak again and have to avoid each other at all costs. He lets me down easy and I feel like a total loser for having confessed in the first place. There’s a lot.”

“Jesus, Y/N. Aren’t you forgetting a possibility?” Chaewon says, eyebrows raised high.

“I’m omitting a lot of them,” you tell her. Including the one where, in the next three years, you end up in a hellish dystopian wasteland and you have to band together to survive but it’s awkward and terrible because you love him still and he doesn’t feel the same, never has and never will, and now you have to fight off zombies and a corrupt autocratic government all while dealing with your own goddamn feelings. That may be the most unbearable one of them all.

“How about the one where he actually feels the same?”

“Too unrealistic,” you tell Chaewon. It’s the truth. Why else would Jungkook be traipsing around with beautiful, rich, worldly girls on his nights off? He does it for the money, sure, but he likes it. He loves the experience, loves living that sort of life. You’d never be able to provide that for him. “You know that’s never going to happen, Chae. We’re just friends.”

“Bullshit.”

“Well, he thinks that we’re just friends. And I’m not gonna fuck everything up by telling him that I’ve been madly in love with him for the past year and a half.” You can think of nothing worse.

“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe he thinks that the two of you are just friends because you refuse to actually show him how you feel?” Chaewon asks pointedly, eyebrows raised in disapproval. She looks about ready to walk out of the restaurant. “You never do things to give him a reason to think otherwise.”

“Why would I?”

When your ramen arrives, Chaewon takes a deep breath, downs the rest of her glass of water, and moves on. It’s clear that if she thinks about this any more, her head will explode.

Nothing’s ever going to change between you and Jungkook. You knew, when you first met him, that it was always going to hurt like this. That loving him was something you had to sacrifice to stay close to him. He lights up every fucking room he walks into, and it’s all you can do not to sit there and bask in his warmth. You would rather catch a single one of his rays than be in the darkness. And if being friends with him means that friends is all you’ll ever be, then so be it. You’re lucky to have him like this. Why take the plunge?

“Just—” Chaewon says as you begin to pull apart the noodles in your own bowl. “I know that you aren’t as happy as you could be right now. And you deserve to be happy, Y/N. You deprive yourself of all of these wonderful things, and I just want you to know that you deserve every single one of them. But telling him? That’s something that even I know would make you the happiest. You shouldn’t live like this, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re missing out on if you do.”

The streak of not seeing Jungkook ends the next day, when you come back from an evening grocery store run to find him standing outside your door, hand about to knock on the wood. He’s all dressed up again, button-down and slacks, hair styled and parted, and you watch as he takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s waiting for the best time to knock.

“Jungkook?”

He practically jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, nearly tripping over his own feet as he lays his eyes on you.

“Oh, Y/N!” He exclaims. “I was just about to see if you were home.”

“You could have just texted, you know,” you say jokingly, joining him at the front door as you fumble for your keys.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Jungkook admits sheepishly.

“Well, make it up to me by helping me unpack these,” you demand, kicking the door open as you reach down to grab your reusable canvas bags filled with groceries. Immediately, Jungkook is leaning down to grab all of them for you, hauling them inside like they weigh nothing. You stare as he heads over to your kitchen without breaking a sweat, biceps clenching as he lifts the groceries up onto the counter.

“What’d you get?” Jungkook asks, slowly beginning to take out the groceries. He’s in your apartment so often that he’s memorized where all of your food goes, from the correct shelf in the fridge for produce to the proper cabinet for cereal.

“Just like… groceries. I saw a box of peppermint chocolate bars that I thought you might like, they’re in there somewhere,” you say mindlessly, pointing to a random canvas bag. Immediately, Jungkook abandons his putting-away-groceries duty to fish through each of the bags, hunting for the box of goodies. “And I got some cheap Trader Joe’s wine. You know. Just for emergencies.”

“Trader Joe’s wine and peppermint chocolate bars,” Jungkook comments, nodding in approval. He finally finds the box and tears it open sideways. “Sounds like a perfect dessert if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What, did you eat already?” You ask, busting out the wine and a couple of mugs, because you don’t own any wine glasses. Nothing says cultured like drinking seven-dollar wine out of mugs with kitschy sayings like “don’t talk to me until this is empty” or “coffee is my first love” written on them.

Jungkook shrugs. He grabs the box and heads over to your couch, already kicking back and relaxing. “Yeah, I went to some restaurant for another double date,” Jungkook says. “It was one of those places where everything is so expensive but the portions are the size of my fist. Of your fist.”

“You sound hungry,” you note, filling up the mugs and joining him. “And mad.”

“I’m getting reimbursed for the money I spent tonight, so I suppose I could be angrier. But I’m starving. Let’s finish this entire box of chocolates and do nothing else.”

“Your words, not mine,” you say, although his proposal sounds more than appealing to you.

You turn the television on for some background noise, switching to a channel showing old reruns of unsolved serial killer cases, because nothing sets the mood better than the words “then, slowly, he took the knife with which he killed her and began to slice away at her body”. Jungkook doesn’t seem to pay the television any attention, though, instead focused entirely on the chocolate in front of him, calling his name.

He takes an enormous bite out of one before moaning far too sexually for your liking, tossing his head back in bliss. “Oh my God.”

“Good?”

Jungkook moans again in response.

“Please don’t orgasm on this couch. Who knows what other bodily fluids were on here before we bought it,” you ask calmly.

“I’d say that’s nasty, but you guys did cover this with one of those couch covers, so it’s not like my body is coming into contact with other people’s body stains,” Jungkook reasons. The couch cover is the single best purchase you’ve made this entire year. Possibly your entire life. “But they’re delicious. You made a good purchase.”

“I thought you would like them,” you say. “You’re the only person I know who actually likes the combination of mint and chocolate.”

“People who say that it tastes like toothpaste are brushing their teeth with the wrong kind of toothpaste,” he tells you pointedly. “I don’t understand. This is God’s combination. It’s perfect.”

“As long as you love it, that’s all that matters,” you tell him with a pat on his back, breaking off a square of the chocolate bar for yourself. It is pretty good, even if mint chocolate ice cream does sometimes taste like toothpaste. But you’d never tell Jungkook that, of course.

Jungkook takes a swig of the wine, picking up the mug and gulping down about half of it, the wine bitter on his tongue. “Goes great with this wine, too,” he jokes. You take a sip yourself. It’s… not very good. Actually, rather sticky. No wonder it was only seven dollars.

“You don’t have to lie to me, I know it tastes like ass,” you tell him honestly. To be fair, you and Jungkook have both had worse. Compared to the shit served at frat parties, this may as well be beautifully-aged Malbec.

“It only tastes a little bit like ass,” Jungkook compromises. “But it doesn’t not taste like ass.”

“Let’s finish it now so we don’t have to have any more of it later,” you decide. “You’ve probably had some of the best alcohol in your life this semester.”

Jungkook thinks back, tilting his head to the side as he begins to recall all of the instances in the past few months when he’s had anything to drink. “Soju’s still my favorite. But yeah, I’d say I’ve had wine that probably costs more than my textbooks for this semester if I hadn’t pirated them all.”

“The beauty of being a CS student,” you muse.

“You know it,” he says, holding his half-empty mug out as a toast to himself. “But seriously, even if this Trader Joe’s wine literally tasted like garbage, it would still be better than all of that other shit.”

You turn to him, skeptical. Even the single night you spent with Chaewon, in a penthouse amongst the stars, drinking champagne and eating strawberries dipped in chocolate, was more than you could ever dream of. You woke up the next day on an air mattress in her bedroom and wanted nothing more than to go back to basking in the luxury, desperate for another taste. It was addicting. How could Jungkook ever prefer what he has right now to what he had last night?

“Really? Don’t say that just to make me feel better,” you tell him. You can take it. Jungkook has every reason to prefer the fancy meals, the penthouses, the suits and ties to your janky little apartment and old clothes from high school. The two aren’t at all on the same level. They’re not even in the same goddamn game. If you could drop everything to have what Chaewon has, what the other girls and boys who pay for Jungkook’s company have, you would.

“I’m not,” Jungkook tells you seriously. “I mean it. I would rather sit in your room, hunched over your tiny Switch because you lost the HDMI cord to plug it into the television, playing Mario Kart than out there, pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“But it was fun in the beginning, wasn’t it? Getting to be rich without the moral ambiguity that comes along with being part of the upper class?” You ask. It must have been. Jungkook looked so happy when he first started doing these gigs, coming back to your apartment in a state of bliss, a little tipsy from the expensive champagne and steak. He’d knock on your door and tell you all about the night, from how older businessmen handed him their cards and offered him jobs, to the hundreds of ice cream flavors you could only ever dream of eating. Everything seemed so wonderful to him.

Jungkook shrugs, pouring himself more wine. “Yeah, I guess, but it gets so old after a while. Like, no wonder Chaewon was so desperate for me to go with her that first time. It sucks the damn life out of you. You walk around and mingle and pretend that you’re the greatest person on Earth, talking about yourself and kissing up to the other people for an entire night. Honestly, sometimes it’s worse than my CS homework. And I hate that shit.”

“Chaewon mentioned that the eggplant usually tastes like foot,” you add. Jungkook nods in agreement.

“Yeah, it does. She warned me about it the first night and I, like a fool, tried it because I usually like eggplant. And it still tasted like foot. Never again,” Jungkook says, shivering at the mere thought of it. It’s funny, actually, because you did the exact same thing. “But the food is like, the one thing I pretty much don’t have the right to complain about. It’s delicious and usually free.”

“But I hope that you’re having fun,” you tell him honestly, because you do. When you’re sitting in your room, eating two different pints of Ben & Jerry’s, you hope that Jungkook, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, is enjoying himself more than you are. Because he deserves it. You never want there to be a time when he’s sad, when he’s unhappy or bored. Jungkook deserves to live the happiest version of life he possibly can. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“I do,” Jungkook says. There’s a second half to that sentence. “I do—it’s just that… It's so fake, you know? I feel like such a goddamn actor when I’m there. I get to live this extravagant lifestyle for a few hours but in return I don’t even know who I’m looking at when I look in the mirror.”

Oh?

“Like, I pretend to be this business student, when I’m not. I pretend to have millions of dollars to my name, when I don’t. I hold hands and pose for pictures with people Chaewon is vaguely familiar with and nothing, literally nothing, feels real. I don’t know.” Jungkook takes another swig from the mug. “Even the relationships I have when I’m there are fake.”

“Do you hate it that much, then?” You ask him. If it’s so awful and terrible, then why does he keep doing it? Keep dressing up and going out, holding hands with and wrapping his arm around them?

“No,” Jungkook says, sighing as he leans back into the couch. “I don’t hate it. I just—I wish I had something real afterwards to come back home to.”

Real? Like what? Like you? You aren’t real. You sit next to your best friend and pretend that everything is fine. That nothing hurts. You’ve had the biggest crush on him ever since you laid eyes on him, and you’re doing everything in your power to make sure that he’s the only one that doesn’t know.

“That’s why I’m always coming back to your apartment afterwards,” Jungkook says. He chuckles, but it isn’t his usual laugh. It sounds forced, contrived and fake. Jaded. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it almost immediately. Then, he breathes, long and slow. Thinks. The silence is almost unbearable. Waiting to hear what he has to say, even more so. “You’re the most genuine person I know. What we share—it’s real.”

Tonight is the least lonely you’ve felt in a long time.

Even though Jungkook has something tonight, you aren’t aching to be by his side, desperate to spend more time with him. He told you that he was really looking forward to this one, that it wasn’t going to be some stuffy gala or blind double date. He said something about going to karaoke with the girl and her friends, singing Britney Spears songs and taking shots of soju for hours on end, screaming his voice hoarse. And even if you aren’t there with him, you’re happy because you know that he’s happy, that he’s genuinely enjoying himself.

So, you aren’t that lonely.

Content with the state of your life as it is, you take the night off, ready to prepare yourself for a weekend that will almost certainly consist entirely of just work. Chaewon’s voice echoes in your mind (“I know that you aren’t as happy as you could be right now,” she had told you), but it’s different now. Because you are happy. You are happy, because Jungkook’s happy. The two of you see each other just as frequently as you used to. He texts you about his terrible CS homework and the Shiba Inu he just saw being walked across campus. It’s all gone back to the way it used to be. That’s what you had wanted.

You were prepared for this. You knew that it would eventually boil down to this, down to whether or not you could take Jungkook not knowing how you feel any longer. But right now, you don’t care. Jungkook not knowing has always been a part of your friendship. The love you hold for him, in the spaces between your bones and deep in the cracks of your heart, that has always been there. You see it, hear it, feel it, whenever you’re with him. Even when you’re not with him, it will remind you, appear in the silence, the emptiness. It will always make itself known, because it’s become a part of you. From the moment you met him, it had settled into your heart.

Staring out of the window by your living room, overlooking the ugliest parking garage on campus, you sigh. You can’t see the stars from here, not even in the dead of night, but that’s alright. There is something so peaceful about the navy blue sky. About how mysterious and unknown it is. It calms you. You put on a movie that you’ve genuinely been wanting to watch for a while, sit down in your bed, amongst your duvet and sheets, pillows and plushies, and enjoy yourself, for once. It’s a good night.

And then, much like most aspects of your terribly convoluted, over-complicated and confusing life, it all comes crashing down.

There’s a faint thud from outside, a soft little non-noise that you assume is coming from the street. Not wanting to interrupt your movie—she’s just about to confess, holy shit—you ignore it. It’ll go away eventually.

Then another thud. You pause, leaning towards your window to see if you can figure out the source. Silence. You’re just about to press play, when you hear it again. And again. It gets louder and louder, making up in volume what it lacks in rhythm and order, until you realize it’s someone knocking on your door. And not just knocking casually. It’s as if someone is shoving their whole body into it, shoulders and chest and feet hitting the wood as they bang on it.

“Y/N?”

Oh, God.

Pushing off your duvet, you tug on your slippers and wipe away the crust around your eyes as you rush towards the door. You know who’s on the other side. You’re not sure if answering it is the better or worse option.

You’ve always had an uncanny ability to pick the latter.

When you open the door, Jungkook, in a fancy sweater pulled over a white button down and black jeans that could almost pass for dressy slacks, is standing on the other side.

Correction: he’s sort of standing on the other side. He nearly topples over when you pull open the door, having clearly been leaning on it, and you barely have time to reach your arms out to catch him.

“Oh! Y/N!” Jungkook exclaims, as if he’s surprised to see you inside your own apartment. “I was hoping to see you.”

“I figured,” you tell him, laughing. You guide him inside, and even in his state he remembers to tug off his clean white sneakers, kicking them towards the shoe rack. “It’s so late, Jungkook, you should go home.”

“No,” Jungkook whines. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”

“We saw each other this morning, Jungkook. And this afternoon, right before you went out,” you remind him. The words go in one ear and out the other, and he pulls you in close to him, wrapping his arms around you as he presses his body against yours in a sweaty hug. His grip is tight around you as he rests his head on your shoulder, breathing you in as if you’d been gone for years. Slowly, after a few seconds, you pull away from him, a hand on his shoulder to get him to look at you through his too-long bangs, hanging over his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? I’m right here, don’t worry. I never left.”

“I had a lot to drink tonight,” Jungkook tells you, blinking rapidly. “Like, a lot. They just kept ordering soju and I just kept drinking it. It was really good. Have you had strawberry soju? It’s delicious.”

“I might have had it once or twice,” you fib, not able to recall having it one way or another. “Come on, sit down,” you point him towards the couch, but he refuses, clinging onto you even as you make your way towards the kitchen. “Jungkook, please, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“But I missed you,” Jungkook repeats. “I missed you a lot. I thought about you the entire time I was there.”

You can’t say you didn’t do the same.

“Next time we’ll do something together then, hey? Something really fun, like going to an arcade or bowling,” you promise him with a pat on his shoulder. “But you need to drink some water, JK. Can you please sit down?”

“No, I want to be with you,” Jungkook says like it’s nothing. Like the feeling of him wrapped around you like this, holding onto you and telling you that he misses you, that he thinks about you, doesn’t mean anything. You don’t think your heart has beaten since you opened the door to see him standing on the other side.

(You don’t think it’s beaten since you met him. Since he came up to you on the pavement, asking you for directions. Since you told him your name, and he told you his.)

“Ah, fine, just be careful, I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you concede, because it’s so easy to let him have his way, so easy to say yes to him. You manage to grab an empty water bottle and fill it up with what’s left in your Brita, too lazy to refill it after it’s left bone dry. Slowly, you make your way to your bedroom, out of view of the central living space, where your roommates could burst through the door at any moment and see you taking care of your drunk best friend on the sofa.

Slowly, you settle on your bed, sitting off of the edge of it as you cajole him into drinking some water, whispering soft nothings to make sure he finishes the whole thing.

“Does your head hurt or anything?” You ask him, already looking around for the stash of Advil you usually keep on your nightstand.

“No, no, I’m fine, Y/N, seriously,” he promises, even if you can see the glazed-over look in his eyes, the way his sweaty bangs stick to his forehead. “You’re too nice, you know? Always treating me when I show up at your place. Even when you don’t invite me.”

“You know I never mind seeing you,” you tell him. “You can come over whenever you want. I’m always here.”

“No, you’re not,” Jungkook says with a pout, and it makes you furrow your brows. When have you not been? Jungkook’s been going out to events ever since the beginning of the semester, and without fail, you’ve always been waiting for him at home, knowing he’ll turn up one way or another. Except, there was— “That one time a couple of weeks ago, I went to this crazy big gala with Eunha, there were so many people there, and I came back home afterwards and knocked on your door, and your roommates said they hadn’t seen you all day. Where were you that day?”

He had come? You didn’t know if he would.

(Or maybe, you did. You knew he would show up at your door once he got back from that night, and selfishly, not wanting to see him after the fact, the leftover version of him, the part he leaves behind when he goes out. You knew he would be there and you couldn’t bear the thought of being the second girl he spends the night with. The other option. Maybe, you’ve known all along that you’ll never quite stack up to the girls he goes out with, and that sometimes, when you see him all dressed up while you’re in your hoodie and sweats, it reminds you is nothing more than a casual friendship.)

“I must have been out late with Chaewon that day, I’m sorry,” you apologize, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “I didn’t know you would come.”

“I always come after my events. You know that.”

“I didn’t know if you’d remember to,” you correct.

“I’d never forget about you,” Jungkook says, the alcohol erasing his filter. Making him honest. “I really missed you, that day. I had been waiting the entire night to see you.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” you promise, and this one is for real.

“You know, today?” Jungkook says, pulling his head back so he can get a good look at you, your eyes meeting his own. “Today, I was so sad on my way here. It was so terrible, because I was drunk and sad and I missed you.”

“You were sad? What happened?” You ask, leaning in. Jungkook? Sad? Who would do such a thing to him? Who would erase the smile on his face, his crescent eyes, and replace them with tears?

“This girl and I, she was a lot of fun. We sang a couple duets together and we were pretty good,” he hiccups, “kept winning. It was fun. She and I talked for a long time. I definitely liked her the most out of all of the girls I’ve gone out with. Besides Chaewon, of course.”

“What happened? Did she do something you didn’t want? You know you can tell me, Jungkook,” you ask, a hand on his arm.

“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t know. She was fun and I was drunk. We were on our way back in the Lyft when she leaned over and kissed me. And I kissed her back, and it was kind of nice. I haven’t really kissed someone like that in a while,” Jungkook tells you. And even though you’re hearing these words from him, hearing how he had all of this fun with a girl who isn’t you, how he kissed her in the backseat of a car, you rally, blinking away the tears you can feel forming in your eyes. It’s none of your business, you tell yourself. You and Jungkook aren’t together. You don’t get to feel bad about him kissing someone else.

“Did you like it?” You ask, each word a pin in your chest.

“It was pretty nice,” Jungkook admits. “We, uh, we made out a bit in the back of the car until we got to her place. And then we got out of the car and she asked me if I wanted to go back with her, to her room. And—and I almost said yes.” Jungkook looks about ready to combust. At his side, his fists are clenched so hard you’re worried he’ll pop a vein.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you tell him, looking him in the eyes so he knows that you don’t mind, that he can tell you these things without worry. Jungkook may be the love of your life, but he’s your best friend, first. He’s always been, before anything else, your best friend.

“But there is!” Jungkook cries, standing up in anguish. “There is, Y/N, you don’t understand! I almost had sex with her!”

“You’re allowed to, Jungkook!” You assure him, standing up to reach out to him.

“No, Y/N, you don’t get it,” he tells you coldly, pulling his hand away. “Why aren’t you mad? Aren’t you angry that I nearly had sex with her?”

“No, what the fuck, Jungkook, why would I be mad?” You shout back at him. “You can do whatever you want with your body, it’s not my job to police it! I’m your friend, not your mom!”

“But don’t you want to be more, Y/N?” He rounds on you. “Don’t you want to be the one kissing me, fucking me? Why aren’t you jealous?”

“Were you trying to make me jealous, Jungkook? Is that what you were trying to do? You wanted to get a reaction out of me because my best friend nearly fucked someone else and then didn’t? What the fuck, Jungkook? What do you want from me?”

“I just want you to tell me you fucking love me back!”

“Jungkook, what—”

Jungkook, eyes dark and furious, pushes you against your closet door as your lips part, feeling the breath get knocked out of your lungs. He’s so close. He’s right there, you can see him, watch as he looms over you, hands clenched in your hoodie as he presses you against the wall. And then, wordlessly, he’s leaning down, crashing your mouths together.

Suddenly, your heart starts. You gasp into the kiss, the feeling of his mouth on top of yours. It’s fervent, hot and angry and passionate, his body against your own as your hands reach out to press against his head. You seize up at the feeling, almost as if in shock, before melting into his touch, leaning into him, desperate. You can feel his breath mixing in with your own, feel the way his chapped lips meet your overly-moisturized ones, feel how his hands drift from where they’re bunched up in the front of your hoodie to your waist, your hips, your thighs. Jungkook kisses ruthlessly, kisses like he’s trying to prove a point. Holds onto you like he’s afraid to let go.

When you part, gasping for air, Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, blinking.

“Jungkook, you’re drunk—” you tell him firmly, refusing to let get your hopes up if what you have in front of you is really just an intoxicated best friend. Your heart is beating miles a minute, about ready to thump right out of you, chest heaving and mouth agape.

“That doesn’t matter,” Jungkook argues back. “Even when I’m sober I love you. Don’t tell me I’m confused because I’m drunk.”

“You show up at my place at one in the morning, tell me about how you made out with some other girl and almost slept with her just to get me angry, kiss me, and tell me not to tell you you’re confused?” You demand. “Jungkook, I’ve never been more confused in my life than right now, can you please just—”

“I love you, Y/N,” Jungkook says, and even though he’s angry, red in the face and sweaty, when he says it, it’s soft. It’s a whisper, a murmur. He says it not to convince you, but so you know. “I’ve been in love with you for so goddamn long, ever since I fucking met you. And I thought you might like me back but you never did anything about it, and so neither did I.”

“You need to go home, Jungkook,” you tell him, hiccuping. When you blink, you feel the warm tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even noticed them. “You can’t just come into my apartment and tell me shit like that. How do you think it makes me feel?”

“Do you feel the same, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, looking you in the eyes. He’s angry, that’s for sure, but even underneath, you can see the desperation, see how he’s just waiting for an answer.

“Go home, Jungkook. Please. Let’s talk about this when you aren’t drunk, okay? I’m confused and I need to clear my head,” you plead, pushing him towards the door. “Please, okay? Be safe, too. I’ll call Chaewon to give you a ride,” you tell him, grabbing your phone.

Jungkook puts a hand on your wrist. “I’ll be okay, Y/N. I just… Please, tell me. Did that kiss mean anything to you?”

“Yes, it did, but Jungkook, I can’t—”

“It meant something to me, too,” he tells you firmly, lets the words sink into the air around you. He heads for the door, pulling on his shoes. He looks so sad. “Good night, Y/N.”

You place a hand on the doorknob. “Good night, Jungkook.”

It’s barely nine in the morning the next day when a knock wakes you up. It’s soft at first, one every couple of seconds, before it gets progressively louder. Slowly, you get out of bed, trying to tame your hair as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“Y/N’s in her room. Is that for her? That’s so cute. Yeah, she’s probably awake. You can just knock.” It’s your roommate.

You scramble to make your bed, pouring some water from the water bottle by your nightstand into your hand and splashing your face, wiping it away with an old t-shirt as you run towards the door, pulling it open just in time.

On the other side is a much more tired, much less drunk Jungkook, one hand raised and about to knock, the other holding a bouquet of daisies.

“Hey,” he says shyly, mouth breaking into a smile the moment he sees you.

“Hey,” you say back. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, head hurts like hell, though,” Jungkook says. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, s-sure, of course,” you say, stepping aside to let him into your bedroom.

“These are for you.” Jungkook holds out the bouquet towards you, wrapped up neatly in cellophane and tied at the stems with a bow. “So you don’t have to keep Febreze-ing your room all of the time.”

“They’re beautiful, Jungkook,” you tell him, grinning as you take them from his hands. Today feels different from yesterday. It feels lighter, fresher. New. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I—” He pauses, taking a second to think, “I meant what I said, yesterday. Maybe not all of it, but. Most of it, yeah. I meant it.”

“Why did you try to make me jealous, Jungkook?” You ask him. “Why did you think that would work?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook admits. “I shouldn’t have, and I fucked up. I just got so… so tired of waiting to see if you’d ever come around. I just wanted you to tell me. And then I guess I got so fed up that I told you instead.”

You place the bouquet on your dresser before walking towards him, reaching a hand out. “Yeah, that was a pretty big asshole move of you,” you chide, grinning to yourself.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighs.

“But I’m happy you’re here,” you tell him. “And happy that you meant what you said. Maybe it could have been said in a less angry way, but hearing it made me happy.”

“I’m happy that you’re happy.” Jungkook grins. “You’re my favorite person, Y/N.”

“When you asked me, yesterday, if that kiss meant anything to me? And I said it did?” You begin, Jungkook nodding in front of you. He’s positively beaming. “It still does. I want to do that every day, Jungkook. Every hour. Every single second for the rest of my goddamn life.”

“You do?” Jungkook asks.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook. From day one, it’s always been you.” You smile, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. Feels like you’re fucking flying. Like you’re weightless.

“I love you, too, Y/N. I never want to be away from your side,” he declares, and like a cheesy, rom-com movie, like the shitty novels you used to read in eighth grade, he pulls you in close and presses a kiss against your lips. Wraps his arms around your waist as he holds you tight, kisses you in the middle of your bedroom, in your hoodie and sweatpants, a bouquet of daisies on your dresser. He kisses you because he can, because for every second of every day for the rest of your goddamn life, he can kiss you, over and over and over.

“We owe Chaewon an apology,” you tell him when you’re parted, sitting on your bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

“Hell yeah we do,” Jungkook agrees. “She’s been on my ass for ages about telling you.”

“Mine too.”

“She’s such a great best friend,” Jungkook comments. “Knew all this time that her two friends were madly in love with each other and didn’t say a damn word to either of us. That’s loyalty.”

“We should do something for her, to make up for it all,” you suggest.

“You know,” Jungkook says, grinning, “I know this guy who made bank this semester by going on fake dates with a bunch of really rich girls. Maybe he could help.”

“I know him, too,” you joke. “He’s the love of my fucking life.”

Jeon Jungkook quits his job on the ninety-eighth day of the fall semester of his sophomore year.

You know this because on the ninety-eighth day of the fall semester of your sophomore year, he comes banging on the door of your apartment shared with three other girls at 7:18PM, eighteen minutes after he normally heads out on one of his many dates.

“Y/N!” He shouts, banging wildly on your door. You rush over to open it, letting the pasta water on the stove boil over and sizzle on the heat. He’s barely gotten in a second knock when you turn the doorknob to reveal your smiling boyfriend in his oversized hoodie.

“Don’t tell me you’re blowing someone off for me,” you say, inviting him inside. He places a kiss on your cheek on the way in, taking off his shoes and coat as you rush over to take care of the pasta.

“Me? Blowing someone off? Never,” Jungkook says, mock offended. “I actually quit the dating thing, this afternoon. A girl asked if I was free and I said that I wasn’t, because I have to go home to my girlfriend making me a meal. Don’t you love the sound of that?” He asks, pleased with himself.

“You quit? I thought you liked doing that stuff,” you say, using the spaghetti fork to move around the linguine. “Hope you’re cool with boring old pasta for your meal tonight. You could have had caviar if you hadn’t quit.”

“I don’t care, it smells so good,” Jungkook tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he stands behind you, watching you cook from over your shoulder. “Look at you, being all domestic and shit. It’s very cute.”

“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re the better cook, I get it. Pasta is all I got right now.” You pout, turning down the heat as you move to pour yourselves two cups of tea. Jungkook follows you the entire way to the kettle, grip on your waist never faltering. “You can keep going on those dates, you know. I don’t mind. I get to see you in a suit when you get back, and then I get to take it off of you. It’s a win-win.”

Jungkook pinches your waist in response. “If you have a thing for suits, you can just tell me, you know. I won’t be mad.”

You turn around to whack him with the spaghetti fork. “I do not!”

“Alright, Y/N, guess I won’t wear a suit next time you call me at two in the morning—”

“I never said you couldn’t,” you interrupt, making Jungkook laugh.

“You’re so cute, Y/N,” Jungkook coos as you begin to dish up the pasta, making sure to add peas because Jungkook loves peas with his spaghetti. “But I quit because I have enough money to sustain me for the rest of the semester. I’ll work over break and get a new job next semester when the new work-study positions open. Don’t worry about me,” he assures you.

“But didn’t you like going out and everything? Getting dressed up and drinking fancy champagne?” You ask, setting the plates down at your dinky kitchen table, a single scented candle lit in the center.

Jungkook thinks about it for a split second, and then he shakes his head. “Nah. I like hanging out with my girlfriend more.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” you reason with a grin.

Jungkook laughs, leaning over the table to plop a kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, you pea-eating loser,” you chide, “I love you too.”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

↳ check out the post-script drabble here!

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook au #w: if i told you #god this fic.... i cant believe i wrote this.... how did i do it

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alfredosauce50 · 4 years ago

Note

would you be down to do 2p china hc’s? im very curious on how you characterize him!

I’m down! I’m guessing you figured I had my own interpretation of the guy after I answered an ask saying I’d write for him. I really like 2p! China as a character, but I have to say, I haven’t properly written for him before. Nevertheless, I’ll give you my thoughts on him as a person!

2p! China Headcanons

Zao’s appearance doesn’t give away much of his personality. He’s got a bit of a baby face, and he has a sociable and pleasant demeanor for the most part. So if you didn’t know him well enough to see past those traits, you would be surprised at how shady he can be.

Appearance

Like his 1p counterpart, his dark brown hair goes past his shoulders and is tied back in a low ponytail. It’s pretty thin too, so it stays flat against his back. But that’s what makes it look so good. He isn’t the tallest guy out there, as he stands around 170cm or 5′7″. Doesn’t mean you can easily take him out in a fight, though. He’s quite slender, but he’s muscular and knows a few martial arts to boot.

He has a lot of tattoos, and he doesn’t try to hide them. He has dragons curling down his arms, as well as Chinese characters etched into his back. Most of the time, he wears traditional clothing, such as a sleeveless Tang suit, so his arms are exposed. It’s almost as if the colors black and red were made for him. And he knows it. So unless he’s having a bad day where he’ll go for a simple T-shirt, he likes to dress to impress. Not that he even needs to try.

He’s devilishly attractive, and the way he talks gets girls flocking to him.

Personality

Zao is very easy-going and open-minded. He’ll talk about anything with anyone. Everything is fascinating in a way, and nothing seems to faze him either. So he’s the type to question the most trivial things in life--or list drugs as casually as you would your favorite candy bars. It’s also difficult to shock him, or anger him. When life deals him a bad hand, or springs up inconveniences, he’ll go with the flow because that’s life. So unless something involves the person he likes, he keeps himself pretty level-headed.

With his willingness to talk about anything, comes his brutal honesty and bluntness. So sometimes, he’ll find himself offending people even if he never meant to. If he does this to women, they’ll slap him before storming off, leaving him in confusion at what he did wrong. But if he does this to men, he’ll have to be quick on his feet to escape a potential fight. Unlike a few other 2ps, he has a good temperament so he avoids violence, but he’ll resort to it if he absolutely has to.

Despite the careers he’s depicted to have, like being a drug-dealer, something in adult entertainment, night-life, or anything illegal, he has strong fraternal instincts. If somebody embodied the “big brother” trope, it would be him. He cares a lot for his younger siblings, and they look up to him as a role model. But he’ll always tell them, “Do as I say, not as I do!” As comfortable as he is in his own skin, his own identity, he wouldn’t want them taking after him.

He’s very flirtatious, and a huge tease. How he shows he likes you is through making you blush, or embarrassed. He’ll call you pet names. Shower you with compliments. Refer to you as if you and him are already an item. If you bumped into him at a grocery store, he’ll help you shop, then say, “So, is that all we need? I can’t wait for dinner tonight.” Zao is also unapologetically dirty-minded. He’s all about dirty jokes, conversations, and gestures. The bigger reaction he gets, the more addicting they are.

He doesn’t have any qualifications, not even a high school diploma, but he’s street-smart to make up for it. That’s how he makes so many connections and hustles his way up to the top in shady businesses. If you need something, anything, legal or illegal, expensive or cheap, you can ask him, and 99% of the time, he’ll say, “I know a guy.” If he likes you, all he wants in return is something perverted. A kiss, maybe. Or maybe your underwear.

Interests

He loves anything cute, and he doesn’t hide it. Sanrio is a must--he keeps a collection of their plushies, most of them being Hello Kitty, but he also likes other characters such as Cinnamoroll and Pompompurin. Sometimes, he can get a bit obsessive over whatever sells fast. So if he has to, he’ll stay up and keep refreshing the page selling whatever he has his eyes on. If he’s infamous for his connections that let him get pretty much anything he wants, surely he can get his hands on the limited-edition Hello Kitty-themed towel, right!? He isn’t against having other kinds of merchandise either, like household items, but he keeps it lowkey for functionality.

In his house, you’ll find a lot of imports from East-Asian countries. Not only is he used to using them when he was back in China, they’re better than what you can find in America. Or at least, in his opinion. This includes cosmetics, snacks, alcohol, and decorations.

Although he doesn’t have a lot of time to, he enjoys watching anime. That’s why he makes sure to get through the most popular and mainstream ones first.

Zao likes to keep connected with his culture. He doesn’t care to assimilate, and being ‘different’ doesn’t bother him at all--he thinks it’s what gives him a unique personality and background. Since he doesn’t have a lot of friends to speak Mandarin with, he’ll look for his neighbors who can, and strike up a conversation every now and then. As well as that, he’ll give his siblings red pockets for Chinese New Year so they can spend it on food, videogames or whatever they want.

He can’t cook for shit. Even then, he has strong opinions on food, especially Chinese. While he enjoys westernised take out like Panda express, he wishes people would stop assuming Chinese cuisine is just dumplings, fried rice, noodles and yum cha. They’re B-tier at best. For a country with that rich and long a history, there’s so much more to indulge in. Too bad he can’t make anything if he tried.

Psychology + romance

Zao is used to being a second choice. His cheerfulness and bluntness make other people think he’s creepy or weird, so he can’t quite wrap his head around somebody liking him to that degree--or getting particularly close to him. At least, emotionally. There are a lot of girls who want him for one-night stands. But this doesn’t stop him from flirting with someone he genuinely likes, even if he doesn’t expect anything in return. It’s fun because they get flustered, after all. But when they start returning the same energy, get persistent, or even make him suspect that they like him back, he will get nervous. He’s used to being the chaser, not the other way around. So if the tables turn and things start getting real, he will back away.

As confident as he is with his image, it’s difficult for him to get intimate with somebody romantically. He’s open, but can’t be vulnerable. He’d rather keep things casual, so when he really falls for someone, he’ll be conflicted between keeping things the way they are, or pursuing them.

Eventually, these feelings will deepen to the point being just friends becomes suffocating. That’s when Zao loses his cool and gets frustrated. It could happen due to a build-up of his emotions, or an event that makes him explode from jealousy. He’ll get desperate after so long of not doing anything and make it very clear he wants you. “Just date me already!”

When he finally gets together with you, prepare to be coddled. He’ll want to help you with anything the best way he can, and go to extreme lengths to do so. Nothing seems extreme when it’s for somebody he cares so much about. While he never holds it against you--how much he does for you--he may or may not guilt trip you into giving him more affection. But only subtly. Instead of him kissing you, he'll loiter around your presence until you kiss him. And when you do, he’ll smile like an idiot.

He never makes it explicit when he wants to take you out on a date. Zao will just ask you if you’re free, and take you out for the night. He doesn’t see a point in labelling it as a ‘date’, because he doesn’t just see quality time with you through a romantic and sexual lens. He values the friendship aspect of it as well, and you really appreciate him for it.

Zao loves to cuddle. He doesn’t hug you much throughout the day, but when you’re at home and about to sleep, he will hug you, a lot. He won’t let go while he talks to you, and will only loosen his coils when you fall asleep.

Acknowledgements

I was mainly inspired by the 2p! China in the story, “Dragon District”, written by xYourHero. So props to them. The fandom’s perception of him has definitely deepened because of it, and it’s great seeing underrated 2ps finally getting the attention they deserve! I’m one of the people who’s had my characterization of Zao take after hers, so I’ll also be crediting her for my headcanons.

You can find the story on DeviantArt, Archive of our own and Wattpad. I adored that fic back in the day. Such good memories. I wasn’t even writing back when I was reading it. Any who, let’s get right into it. I’ve divided the headcanons into subcategories, appearance, personality, interests, and psychology + romance.

(Look at this fanart is by Amphany on DeviantArt. It was drawn for xYourHero. I’m gonna put it here for reference. https://www.deviantart.com/amphany/art/Dragon-smoke-548426383)

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #2ptalia #2p!china #2p china #2p china headcanons #2ptalia x reader #2pchina x reader #axis powers hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #alfredosauce50 #ask

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the-weeping-author · 3 years ago

Text

Reacquainted

A/N: hey so this is a AU! Where Eren and the reader are both 18.. so yeah lol I hope this is good.. this is my first fic into the anime fandom, and more importantly my first fic of the AOT fandom so request are open. I have a list of characters I write for so feel free to request I write angst, fluff, and smut.

Taglist: @augustweb @harrystylesupremacy

Warnings: bullying kinda?? cussing, slight angst, SEX!! 18+ quickie, oral , stimulation. Dirty talk, unprotected sex slight choking,

Summary: Y/N and Eren had parted ways as children, one wanted it the other didn't. Y/N's life was just fine until a certian brown haired guy showed up at scouts one day. Will Y/N and Eren make up?

Word count: 5,728

Enjoy 😊

Eren and I had been friends since I could remember, we were close growing up. Eren and I were as thick as thieves, but slowly over time there became a HUGE disconnection between us. I never understood when or why it had happened, but it did and it put a strain on Eren and I. It hurt more than anything, our families had always been close, but maybe that was our downfall. We had always spent summers together at the lake house.

The lake house was just 30 minutes away from the wall, and Eren and I would always ask why Titans never showed up like they did around the walls. Our parents never told us, but my father always brushed me off, and told me I wasn't old enough. I never understood what he meant until that day 9 years ago, back then I had everything.. a family, a home, friends, comfort. Now I have nothing, I was truly alone. I knew what my father was talking about now. To be a warrior you would have to be willing to sacrifice everything, and guess what? That's exactly what I did, that's what made me lose everything including Eren.

Losing everything wasn't what I wanted, but who did? I was foolish back then. I was childish and gullible about the real world, I never knew how cruel and cold the world was until the wall came down for a second time 4 years after the first. Eren leaving my life was what finally did it for me, and I thought there was no escaping the cold dark thing that I called my soul. No one was let in. It was like the whole world around me stopped, and I started to distance myself more and more from everyone.

It wasn't until I decided to join the scouts that I felt alive again, just going out and taking all the built up frustrations out on the Titans. After all, they are the reason why I am the way I am. Tell me who wouldn't feel the way I do after they lost everything then on top of that to get stabbed in the back by someone who claims to be your best friend. Eren and I had stopped talking around three years ago, and honestly it's not gonna change anytime soon.

I'll never forget the day Eren told me he didn't want to be friends anymore. In fact I'd never forget that day for as long as I lived, the day had started sunny and beautiful. The sun was warm dancing across the city, the wind was blowing just enough to send a nice calming breeze through the hot summer Hills. The birds had sung happily that morning, the air had finally felt lighter. For once everything felt… Okay, but there was no telling how long that would last.

~FlashBack~

"Y/N… why are you always so hopeful?"

I turned my head to Eren, my green eyes Shining in his gray ones. I smiled softly before he intertwined our fingers together, I laid my head on his shoulder. I Felt his toned body tense under my simple movement, and I hummed softly looking out upon the town of Shiganshina. I thought it over for a brief moment before I let out a breath answering softly.

"Well Eren, I believe that if we succumb to the horrors of life we fail not only as warriors, but as humans too. I'll never succumb to the enemy or anyone for that matter."

The few minutes of silence made me lift my head off his shoulder, and look at him. His face was unreadable, and it threw me off. Did he have this expression the whole time? Why ask a question if you were just gonna ignore it? Before my mind could go any further into the negative thoughts Eren's voice pulled me from my thoughts making me let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

"Y/N.. we can't do this anymore."

I looked at him, my eyes quickly searched his face for more indication of what he meant. I watched his jaw clench before he unclenched it. His hand slowly slid out my hand, he pulled it back into his lap leaving my hand alone. My stomach flipped, and immediately it locked up making my stomach twist making me nauseous.

"W-what do you mean Eren?"

His gray eyes finally locked with my green ones, and he stood up turning his back towards me before walking away. I quickly stood up, and followed after him.

"Can't do what anymore? Eren answer me!"

He stopped in his tracks, and he stood up, turning away from me. He dusted off his hands as he started walking away from me. I stood, and I clenched my fist squeezing my eyes shut as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I felt my heart pound against my ribcage, and my lip started to quiver. When I opened my eyes my sight was hazy from the tears getting closer, and closer to breaking the dam.

Eren let out a breath, and he looked up at the sky. The grey clouds hid what was left of the beautiful blue sky. I knew his next words were gonna change the rest of my life, I stared at the brown locks covering his head. Before I knew it tears were sliding down my face, after a few silent sobs I wiped my nose sniffling a bit. Immediately I regretted it. Eren looked over his shoulder looking at me, and when his suspicions were confirmed he let out a "Tsk." He took in a breath before looking away from me.

"I can't be your friend anymore, don't try to change my mind because it's already made up. I don't need you around, you're too gullible to have around, you'll just get yourself killed after all… you're weak."

My eyes widened, and I dropped to my knees, balling my fist sitting them in my lap. I felt a few cold drops fall onto my thighs, and I looked up at the gray sky. A few cold rain drops dripped on my burning face as the realization hit me, I was alone. I let out a gut wrenching scream as Eren disappeared out of my life.. forever. I hunched over, and I let the once quiet sobs out my body, Jolting forward as each sob broke through me.

"Why me, I'm only 10 years old, why am I alone? Doesn't anyone love me?"

~End Of FlashBack~

I was walking down the street to a small building where the scouts would change, I walked into the Women's side and quickly put my training uniform on. I looked at the clock on the wall, and my eyes widened. The clock read 5:50 am.. shit If I didn't leave right now I'd be five minutes late, and Captain Levi hands out extra punishment to those who are late. It had been two years since I've joined, and I hadn't been late this far and I definitely didn't plan to start now.

I rushed out of the building, and when the wind hit my face I immediately started running. Two years on and off the field, and I didn't want to stop training. I was always quick to learn new moves, or get better at hand to hand combat. When I finally reached the field I stopped to take big breaths, and a voice caught my attention making my blood run cold. He couldn't be here... of all days why today, why me? My green eyes quickly found the voice that made my heart drop to my feet.

Eren Yeager.. my Ex best friend, the anchor that once held my body firm in the ocean unscathed by the violent waves. My eyes started to burn, and my throat started getting itchy. His gray eyes met with mine, and when Mikasa, Armin, and Levi turned towards me I quickly turned my head, and rushed the opposite way. My wrist was grabbed by someone, and my head shot up to meet Hanji''s gaze, concern sketched onto Their face.

"Y/L/N are you alright?"

I nodded my head, and I mustered up the best smile I could give them at the moment. I parted my lips softly before taking in a breath before letting it out.

"Yes Hanji I'm fine, thank you for asking."

They smiled at me before intertwining their arm with mine, and before I knew it we were walking towards the little group.. including Eren immediately I stopped in my tracks making them get pulled backwards towards me a bit at the sudden lack of movement. When Hanji turned their head to look at me, confusion was written all over their face. They followed my eyes as I glanced at Eren, and they let out a knowing oooh.

"I see now Y/L/N, your disturbance is between you and Mister Yeager. Am I correct?"

Before I could say anything they quickly cut me off their eyes shined at me softly before their lips turned upwards into a smile.

"Ah well whatever is going on you can't let it affect

you to the point where you can't be there for your team. That will only get them and you killed, so please for our sake along with yours please handle this however hard it may be. After all, what would I do if my favorite scout got killed?"

I listened to Hanji intently. I knew I couldn't face him, but Hanji had a point. This "issue" could jeopardize the safety of not only myself, but others and I wouldn't be the reason hundreds of us got killed. How could I approach Eren? Why would I? Would he even talk to me? Hanji''s voice pulled me from the depths of my own hectic thoughts. I'd have to thank them later in the mess hall, but I did plan to talk to Eren.. just not today.

The day of training was spent avoiding Mikasa, Armin, but especially Eren. A part of me envied two of the three of the trio, I was currently sparring with a new scout. My eyes looked towards Eren every once in a while, but this time it got the best of me. As soon as Eren lifted one of the trainees off the ground making his firm muscles flex. I can't help but wonder how-... I was instantly pulled from my thoughts by a fist meeting with my face.

I fell against the dirt of the huge field, I held the side of my face shaking the hit off. When I raised my head a bit I saw a few people looking over at us, Eren included. A slight smirk was on his face as his peers looked on, and I felt my blood instantly boil. I wanted to go over there, and wipe that eat shit smirk off his face. The person I was training with held their hand out to me, and I instinctively slapped his hand away. I stood up, and I dusted myself off getting into a strong sturdy stance. Of course instinctively it was the one Eren had taught me when we were kids.

Training had ended, and I couldn't be happier. My body ached, and when I showered the hot water helped ease my aching bones. Once I changed back into my regular clothes I walked into the mess hall, once I got my dinner I sat at a table alone. I started eating until I felt eyes on me, and with a quick flash I noticed Eren walking my way out the corner of my eye. I gulped, and I gripped my cup tightly. As he got closer and closer my heart thumped harder, and harder.

Mikasa, and Armin were across the mess hall watching Eren get closer. I prayed to whatever was up there he wouldn't be coming to talk to me. That it was just exhaustion altering my mind, however I was quickly mistaken when he sat right in front of me. His Gray eyes stared into mine calmly. We just stared at each other not knowing what to say, he was basically a stranger to me. He wasn't my Eren Yeager anymore, and I didn't know where to begin to search for him.

"Hey Rosie."

My stomach dropped hearing him use the nickname he used to call me. The butterflies in my heart almost gave in, and acted like nothing happened. It had though, he abandoned me like I was a nobody to him. Rosie came from my feelings towards him, every little thing he did made me blush, or get flushed. I always disliked blushing until he called me that nickname. I used to love it, but now resentment constantly burns through my veins.

"You don't get to call me that anymore."

The smirk that was once on his face faltered a bit, and he just stared at me. Neither one of us spoke, the air was thick with tension. He looked as cute as I remembered he did, his eyes still the color of the sky on a rainy day. His lips still looked as soft as ever, he looked exactly the same, but older. My Stomach turned with every glance I took at him. My thoughts were all over the place, why here? Why now? Is he gonna hurt me just like he did back then? What if he did still care about me?

"No Remember Y/N he's not your Eren anymore you don't know him, he never cared about you. He never will, he doesn't-."

As my thoughts swirled through my head like a tornado on a dark spring evening. I felt my face get warm, and my bottom lip started to tremble softly as tears stung my eyes. His deep intoxicating voice pulled me from my overbearing thoughts, he whispered across the table to keep some sort of privacy between us, his lips parted softly.

"Oh? Well why is that?"

His warm voice pushed any decent thought away, he sounded so stupid.. Why is that? Are you serious? He has to be joking right? I licked my lips before I squeezed my thigh softly. Once I cooled off some I cleared my throat, my back straightened in the chair. I wasn't gonna play his game, not now, not ever his game of cat and mouse was over. I was no longer gonna let Eren Yeager hurt me the way he had.

"You know exactly why Eren Yeager, if you want to talk to me about why you haven't talked to me in years please refrain from playing stupid. It doesn't fit you."

I grabbed my tray, and I stood from the table walking away from the table but more importantly I walked away from him. It felt good to walk away from him, but unfortunately I knew we'd have to talk sooner or later. Mikasa, and Armin both smiled at me softly. I nodded my head at them both before I kept walking, leaving everyone in the mess hall behind me. Little did I know a plan was getting made while I slept the night away.

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

I woke up to the birds singing, and I smiled to myself before throwing the covers off of me. I got ready for the day taking care of my morning duties. Once I finished breakfast I brushed my teeth, and after I was done I grabbed the mouthwash, swished it around my mouth and spit it in the sink. I braided my hair while I walked down the hallway, I stopped when I heard Captain Levi's voice.

"I'll let her know when I see her, for now go to the field I'll see you out there."

I heard footsteps get further, and further away until I couldn't hear them anymore. Once I knew for sure the conversation was over I stepped out walking around the corner seeing Captain Levi standing there, and I smiled softly walking up to him.

"Morning Captain."

He raised his head, and turned towards me. The blank expression on his face as he nodded his head at me his raven hair moved at his simple movements.

"Morning Y/L/N I was just about to come looking for you."

My smile faltered a bit at his words, and I tensed up a bit remembering the conversation I eavesdropped on. My heart dropped a bit, and my hands started to get clammy. I pushed the smile back onto my face, and I started to play with the end of my shirt.

"Well here I am sir, what's on your mind?"

He let out a breath, and he rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. My heart almost stopped, Levi was never one to express himself no matter the situation. So to say I was nervous was an understatement, I'm sure Captain Levi could hear my heart hammer against my ribcage. I took a soft deep breath preparing myself for whatever he had to say.

"Well Y/L/N I've heard from a few of your comrades that you've been working hard, and you've taken some of the discipline I've given them.. is that true?"

My blood ran cold, I knew he was about to give me kitchen duty, or worse he was gonna make me clean the rooms again. I immediately deflated at his words, I was ready to take whatever he was gonna give me.

"Well Y/L/N as much as I am displeased by your actions, the same comrades offered to take your punishment In return for you having the day off from training so go knock yourself out."

My mouth dropped open at his new claim, my eyes scanned across his face to try and see if he was lying, which I already knew the answer to. I closed my mouth, and I licked my lips letting the moisture circulate in my mouth. My eyes looked back to him, and I smiled softly at him looking into his gray eyes.

"T-thank you Captain, I uhh really appreciate it. If you don't mind me asking who exactly told you about what I did?"

His eyes looked back into mine, and he let out a huff. This is the most I've heard him talk, except for when he's with Erwin in the mess hall or barking orders at us. Other than that it was silence, but I had to know who exactly got themselves in trouble for me.

"Well I probably shouldn't tell you, bit Armin, Connie, Jean, Sasha, and Eren."

My stomach twisted at him mentioning Eren, and my smile faltered just for a split second. Levi definitely noticed, and I knew he was gonna pry. I didn't want him to, but he's my Captain and I can't lie to him. Even if I did he'd see right through it, and I wasn't gonna let that happen at all. I'd have to run laps, clean, dishes, clean oh and did I mention CLEAN!? don't get me wrong, I loved cleaning, but not after a bunch of slobs.

"Oh well thank you for letting me know Levi, thank you oh and tell them I said thank you too."

Levi did a double take when I didn't say anything else. He looked normal, but I could tell there were a few things he had to say. I went to turn back around to get ready to go into town, but his voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh by the way Y/L/N… you need to deal with whatever you're dealing with, and I can tell you've been distracted lately."

I turned my head to face him, and I nodded my head at him. When he started walking the other way I did the same, when I reached my room I changed into a pastel pink summer dress. I let my hair down, and I brushed it out slipping on a pair of my black flats walking out of my room. When I reached outside the warm sun kissed my skin, and I closed my eyes for a moment humming softly.

I said hello to the scouts that passed me on my way by, I hummed a little tune as I walked. I felt eyes on my body, and I stopped midwalk looking around trying to find who was looking at me. When I didn't see anyone I just shrugged it off before I continued to walk. It wasn't until I got to a secluded area that I felt eyes on me again, and this time I stopped completely, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Okay whoever is following me, come out you're starting to annoy me."

As soon as the last word left my mouth I heard footsteps, I turned around, and my breath hitched seeing Eren come out from behind a wall. My lips parted, and I put my hand up stopping him in his tracks.

"Don't you dare come any closer Eren or I'll drop you where you stand."

A look flashed across his face I didn't recognize, and he smiled softly at me before he got closer to me.

"Oh Rosie, you still have such a temper, I thought you were gonna drop me?"

My mouth opened and closed every few seconds searching for something to say, when my hand pressed against his toned chest. A pink tint crossed my cheeks, and I let out a huff seeing his face. Anger quickly flows through me all over again before I just let my top blow.

"Eren, who do you think you are? You can't just say what you said, and then years later just come waltzing back in my life wanting me to act like nothing happened cause it definitely did."

His eyes narrowed a bit, and I saw the side of his mouth twitch. I could tell he was mad, the sudden urge to slap him was eager in my mind. I quickly swallowed that urge, and I decided to let him defend himself If he planned on it. The Eren I once knew was warm, sweet the list goes on, but the new Eren was a huge ass.

"Y/N it wasn't like that, I was only trying to protect you."

"Protect me? Eren you hurt me, you've been a dickasaurus rex."

His eyes widened at the new nickname, and before I knew it he was dragging me along with him. I tried to get out of his grasp, but unfortunately it wasn't working so I just walked quickly with him. We walked down a hallway taking two lefts and a right, and when he opened the room door I looked around the hallway noticing we were alone. When he pulled me into the room I quickly turned around, and tried to escape.

"Y/N I know I hurt you, but I thought I was doing what was best for the both of us. I know you hate me, but please just forgive me. I've wanted to reach out, but I never knew how I was afraid you wouldn't talk to me."

He pulled me back around to face him, and my heart softened at his words, but I couldn't just forgive him could I? He hurt me, and I wouldn't let him do it again. I refused to be his fool or anyone's fool again, I tried to repair myself over the past few years, and I wouldn't let Eren break down what I accomplished.

"Eren you told me and I quote. "you didn't need me around, I was too gullible to have around, I'd just get Myself killed after all… I'm weak" you know that stayed with me for a long time, but I joined the scouts instead of listening to you. I'm glad I did because I proved to you, foe's, and anyone who doubted me that I am strong, and that I could save myself if needed. So my question to Eren is if I'm so weak and we weren't good friends why have you been trying to get me to talk to you?"

Eren didn't reply for a few seconds, his mouth opened and closed just like mine did earlier. Now it was my turn to do the smirking, I knew I was fueling his fire, but I didn't care. It felt great to finally tell him how I felt and just get it off my chest. Before he could say anything I turned back towards the door, and started walking towards it.

"Eren I'll see ya around, I'm not wasting anymore of my -."

Before I could get the rest of my sentence out he was pulling me back towards him, and as soon as I faced him our lips met. It woke every part of my body up, and I was just frozen to the ground. It wasn't until he pushed me back against the wall that it registered within me what exactly was going on. My body ached for Eren, and I didn't know it until this moment. The way his lips fit against mine, or the way his rough hands moved against my soft skin.

My hands went to his pants undoing the button, and I pulled down his zipper. I let my warm fingers curve into his pants before yanking them down, and his boxers were quickly following his pants stopping around his ankles. I bunched his shirt in my hands, and I flipped us his back smacked against the wall as I pushed him against it. I dropped to my knees, and I looked up at him waiting for his permission. He let out a soft grunt, and I looked up at him, and my breath was caught once again.

Anger was slightly evident in his eyes, but his pupils were blown with lust. I hummed softly at his reaction to the cold wall making me smirk again so I decided to tease him a little bit.

"Awee what's wrong? Did little Rosie hit a nerve?"

I let out a knowing giggle, and before he could respond I was taking his hardening cock into my mouth. I moved my head softly back and forth around Eren making his hand instinctively go into my long H/C locks. I opened my eyes feeling the sentimental contact, and when I looked up it made the knots in my stomach twist tighter. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and the way his bottom lip tucked tightly between his top and bottom teeth just made my thoughts fuzzy.

Hollowing my cheeks around him made his grip in my hair grow tighter, and each time I moved my head forward his his jolted to meet my face. His now hard cock roughly grazed the back of my throat making my eyes squeeze shut, when my lips met the base of his manhood he used the hand that held onto my hair in place. I let my hands softly graze his thighs until I needed air, and when the time came I gave both of them a firm squeeze.

When he let my head go I quickly pulled back gasping for air, only a moment passed before he was burying his cock back into my willing mouth. when he slid back into my mouth something changed him, and I definitely wasn't complaining after all I wasn't glass. I used my pointer, and middle finger to tap his bare thigh softly before I tightened my mouth around him, feeling his hard throbbing cock against my swollen plump lips. The arousal pooling between my legs proved how much I wanted- (more like needed) him at this moment.

I wanted Eren so bad there was no denying it, in fact I'd be a fool if I denied it. Anyone could tell I was head over heels for the boy I grew up with regardless if he knew it or not. I wanted this just as much as he did, but we were both too stubborn to admit it on our own Accord. I knew this was bound to happen at some point. Some people call it fate, I call it intuition. The way his breath got heavy when I swirled my tongue around the tip of his member just made me want to do more.

Our eyes stayed locked together even as I teasingly moved my head back and forth sliding my wet lips down his member, and when I got half way down I moved my head back letting just the tip of his cock rest in my mouth. I sucked softly on it at first letting him catch his breath, and one look up at him was all it took for me to know he was holding himself back. The look of hesitation was very evident in his eyes, when I let the tip of his cock slide out of my mouth I heard him groan out of annoyance.

"W-wha- Why did you stop?"

I looked up at him humming softly before I kissed his swollen tip, making his breath falter as the taste of precum spread across my lips dancing onto my taste buds.

" I still dislike you, but Stop holding back Eren, I want this just as much as you do."

He nodded his head, and he grabbed my H/C hair wrapping it around his fist before he started jolting his hips back and forth into my mouth. The lewd wet noises leaving my mouth were enough to get a response from Eren.

"S-shut u-up you make it very hard to concentrate, and that's not a complete compliment."

I pinched his thigh softly at his smart remark, and before I could reply he shoved his hard cock into my mouth immediately burying it in the back of my throat making me Gag almost instantly. I slid my hands back on his thighs, and I squeezed my eyes shut moaning loudly defining vibrations around his throbbing member.

"S-sorry, but ugh. Couldn't let you think you had control."

After a few moments passed he let my head slide half way off his throbbing cock before he pushed it back down to the base of him. After a few moments the actions repeated, and at this point tears started pooling at the corners of my eyes. When he let his cock slid out of my mouth it twitched as the cool air hit his warm salivated cock.

"Get up."

Before I could get up his arm was wrapping around my arm yanking me up. Before I could get my balance I was being shoved against the wall, and he fumbled with the button of my pants undoing them. His fingers pulled my zipper down, and with one swift movement my pants and panties were on the floor. The breeze from his quick moments brushed against my wet arousal making me shudder softly against the cool wall, my perky nipples brushed against the concrete wall making me moan softly.

"E-Eren.."

"Spread your legs."

My mind wanted to tell him to fuck off, but my body reacted before I could get myself together. Before I knew it I was spreading my legs for him.. exactly as I was told.. thanks alot to whoever was watching, I hope you're happy. The feeling of the tip of his cocl rubbing against my soaked folds made me roll my hips against him sliding my folds back and forth on him, the way he sounded when he groaned was intoxicating itself.

When he pushed himself into me it was like striking a match, every inch of my body was on fire, and I didn't want it to be extinguished. I immediately squeezed his hard cock, and as it stretched me out I felt it twitch and throb as it went further and further into me. I let my head slide back against his shoulder as he started thrusting softly into me, his pace wasn't enough to cause any discomfort, but it surely got me used to taking him the more he thrusted into me.

The sound of our skin connecting, and our lewd noises echoed in the room. Little drops of sweat broke out across my forehead as he pulled himself halfway out, and rammed himself deeper into me hitting my g-spot. I arched my back into him making his cock hit at a better angle, the tip of his cock raked across my g-spot with each thrust making me squeeze his hard shaft. The knots in my stomach started making itself more evident, and my breath picked up.

His hand snaked around my hip softly going to my clit, and when his hand pressed against it I moaned against the wall the vibrations made my little tickle. I bit my bottom lip softly letting out a whimper, and his lips pressed against the top of my ear. His tongue slid across the warm skin, and when his teeth sunk into my sensitive skin I let out another louder moan. His hips snapped against my ass making the sound bounce louder off the walls, each time his cock raked against my g-spot I felt myself getting closer and closer.

I felt my walls flutter around him, his break brushed against my wet skin making goosebumps dance across my skin as his voice softly whispered in my ear.

"You can cum If you want Rosie."

Hearing his words were enough to make my orgasm crash over me, but the use of my childhood nickname gave it more of a surreal feeling. Little white stars blurred my vision, and when I closed my eyes they seemed to multiply. I rolled my hips on him as I rode out my orgasm, and I soon felt his warm seed go onto my back. As he rode out his orgasm he fell against my back his heart pounding against my back.

His breath was heavy, and he kissed my shoulder softly moving up my neck. I let out a huff, as much as I'd like to pretend everything was okay I just couldn't. Just because we had sex doesn't mean that I forgave him, and he knew it. I may have given in this once, but I already made my mind up. As much as I loved Eren Yeager for now we were just acquaintances who just so happened to get reacquainted with each other.

When he nuzzled against my jaw my eyes moved to the corner of my eyes so I could look at him, and when I did my breath hitched. His grey eyes were soft, and his smile was warm.

"Rosie.. I've missed you, and I'm so sorry, please forgive me."

I looked at him, and I hummed kissing the top of his damp head before moving my head away, closing my eyes letting out a soft breath.

"I've missed you too Eren, and don't worry it's gonna be okay one day."

A/N: thank you so much for reading!! I appreciate it alot, and thank you for the support it means the world to me!! I do birthday request fics so if you have a birthday coming up I worth for Levi Ackerman, Eren Yeager, and Steve Harrington for now!! I hoped you guys liked it mores on the way.

#eren yaeger imagine #attack on titan smut #eren yaeger x y/n #eren yeager smut #attack on titan #eren yeager angst #Destiny's anime fics

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trashballerina · 4 years ago

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Jojo Fic Recs Because Brainrot

ALSO PART SIX IS GONNA GET ANIMATED

So this little funky dude ⭐ means I really like the fic and highly recommend it lol.

Gemini Dream by batringlamb

After the war is won, Giorno tries to give his deceased associates a new lease on life. And it works! It works well.

There's just some unexpected side effects.

In which Leone Abbacchio finds himself sharing his body with the soul of Bruno Buccellati. Discovering someone else’s hopes and dreams has never been so literal.

(Came back for you. Glad to see that you came too.)

Thoughts: YEAH IM CRYING SO WHAT. Dude this fic is so good. I’m not gonna specify, but there’s this sequence near the end that is so beautifully written I reread it for serotonin. It’s just such a cool concept. I really also love Giorno’s characterization in this because he like, “I have everything under control” and proceeds to not have everything under control. Great fic. Brb, gonna go read again.

The Teenage Feeling by etymologyplayground ⭐

"You're a cat dad," Narancia gasps. Abbacchio rolls his eyes. "Of course. So you want to die surrounded by cats?"

"Yes, but more importantly, I want them to eat my corpse when I die," Abbacchio says, an awful grin spreading across his face.

Thoughts: This fic is just peak Bucci gang interactions. It’s really funny, heart-felt, and captures just how weird everyone is. It’s somehow stays lighthearted while being morbid. This fic always manages to make me laugh and some of the quips are really funny. Highly recommend.

Should Have Known Better by inmyopinion

Suzie Q's death brought about immeasurable pain, and an unexpected visitor.

Thoughts: PAIN AND TEARS but also a really good read. The description tells you what is going to happen, but it still hurts. The beginning starts with some brief but soft Joseph and Suzie but quickly gets angsty from there. Sorry. But you should read it.

Gold and Sapphires by Yuki1014o

Giorno was not fazed by anything--almost anything. You could say that the invitation to a family reunion startled him.

Alternatively Titled: Giorno goes to Japan and finds a family

Thoughts: Good fic. Good balance between angst and wholesome. While the family seems ready to accept Giorno, he feels hesitant and I really like seeing how hesitant he is about the idea of family because of his background. Also, Shizuka is in this so I’m automatically biased. But seriously Giorno has some really great moments while interacting with the different Joestars and extended family.

Little Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon by Blinky_Winky_Nod

In the afterlife, a system exists where dead parents may watch their living children grow up.

Thoughts: I’m sorry most of these are part five centric, it’s not even my favorite part lol. I really love Jonathan’s POV whenever he watches Giorno. Like he’s such a deep, loving person, but seeing his inability to help and just watch hurts me. Also Dio. That’s it, just Dio. I really like this fic for the differing POV’s and characterization of Jonathan.

Scary Monsters ( and Super Creeps) TheAuthorWishesToRemainAnonymous (on-going) ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

He had a horror of rooms / He was tired / You can't hide beat / When I looked in his eyes they were blue but nobody home / He could've been a killer / If he didn't walk the way he do, and he do / He opened strange doors that we'd never close again

Another JJBA Fantasy/Magic AU that nobody asked for. White Witch Bruno Bucciarati becomes adept in the care of magical creatures, after finding himself running a home for misfit cryptids

Thoughts: MY FAVORITE ON-GOING FIC. I think I’ve reread it like three times so far. For one, I love fantasy au, especially the cryptic sort, so much. Seeing Bruno adopt an assorted bunch of cryptics is beautiful. I think the author gets really creative about some of monster traits and how their family functions. And while Bruno has a good heart, he keeps the kids around for other reasons--nothing horrible or anything. Some chapters have just really great descriptions too and its quality found family.

My Right Hand Man by TheDisc (TheDisco) ⭐

Though every day of the following week was identical, Kira savoured it. Perfect peace in his quiet life, unnoticed and left alone—he couldn’t ask for anything more.

Before work on a Thursday morning, Kira checked his mailbox. He flipped through, sorting the junk from the important letters, almost mindlessly, until he got to an unmarked manilla folder at the bottom of the stack. Kira set the rest aside and opened the folder.

His heart stopped.

Inside were photographs. Photos of himself, taken through a window, kissing his girlfriend in his kitchen. Photos of him lovingly painting his girlfriend’s nails. Even photos of his girlfriend, from all angles, sitting out on the table and in the fridge, taken from inside his home.

Violent nausea washed over Kira. His stomach twisted into a knot, his chest clenched with anger.

As Kira slid the photos back into the folder, he noted a letter tucked inside. Despite the waves of sickness washing through him, he managed enough coordination to read it.

And then he read it over again. And again. And again.

(Kira gets blackmailed into spending Christmas with his new neighbours.)

Thoughts: Look, we all have that one rarepair that just doesn’t get the content it deserves and any existing content doesn’t exactly pique your specific interests, but this one really makes up for a lot of the lack of content. Its kiraboss. Kinda messed up but they’re serial killers, so obviously lol. I like this fic an unreasonable amount. Kira’s POV is very good and I’m a sucker for the descriptions of his emotions--especially anxiety. 10/10

#jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #fic reccomendations #fanfiction #jjba fanfic #kiraboss #bruabba #fanfiction recommendation #fic recs

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fbfh · 4 years ago

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fangirl’s paradise - leo x reader

genre/vibe: romance, adventure, slice of life

word count: 2.8k

pronouns/perspective: first person present, no pronouns (I think), gn reader

au: soulmate kind of?? also traveling to other dimensions/multiverse

pairing: Leo x fic writer!reader

requested: nah

warnings: you think someone broke into your house for a minute, you feel like you’re going crazy for a minute, questionable pop culture/internet references, you get really embarrased about stuff you’ve written, you say fuck a lot, tiddy as an explative

summary: all you wanted to do was write some leo one shots for your blog, but finding out he’s your soulmate is good too

reccomended songs: havana - camila cabello, where do we go from here - amelie obc

a/n: got really meta and self indulgent with this bad boy, probs gonna do a part 2 at some point, cause this got really long and I started to get tired lol. For clarity, you’re from the riordanverse, but ended up in a world where it’s fictional. also some memories were erased.

requests r open xo

All I wanted to do was dance embarrassingly and sing along to the same playlist I’d been listening to for the past three days in terrible accents while I wait for my ramen to finish cooking. That’s it. I really don’t think that’s too much to ask for. Plus, I’ve been home alone all day, so it’s really not too much to ask for. I flip over the waistband of my sweatpants while shimmying my way to the kitchen.

“Half of my heart is in havana oh nana,” I sing along off key, in a pseudo growly voice that makes me giggle. I’m going to turn the corner, make myself some ramen, then finish the episode of love island I’ve been watching. Except that’s not what happens.

“He got tha-” I cut myself off with a scream, seeing a stranger in the hall way. He looks up. I scream more, way more, and choke out, “JFK’s left fucking tiddy!”, because this dude is either the best freaking cosplayer ever, or those tiktok reality shifting tutorials actually worked at some point.

He looks too natural, too organic. The level of detail and strategic imperfection is beyond conscious choice. There’s no way he’s a cosplayer that broke into my house. Also, that would be a super weird crime.

Either way, I’m standing in front of a dude who looks exactly like Leo Valdez.

It feels… fake.

I didn’t really notice I’m covering my mouth with my hand to stop my hysterical scream laughs, but I’m able to get it under control after a second.

He’s looking at me, eyes wide, examining me, probably wondering why I’m acting so erratically. Or why I just spat out such strange bullshit. In my defense, I’ve been watching chaotic tiktok compilations inbetween updating my blog for like, two days straight. Three other people round the corner. I don’t know what I expected, and it shouldn’t have been a surprise at this point, but I’m sure I’m looking no other than at Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Piper Mclean.

“Jesus fucking christ, fuck me with a chainsaw!” I spit, retreating into the kitchen, reminding myself that while they are my favorite characters - and again, somehow real and in front of me? - they’re still technically intruders. I grab the nearest kitchen implement, a pair of red kitchen scissors I’d used to hack open the ramen packet, and point it at them.

“Woah,” Piper says, “it’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.” I count to four and breathe in, setting the scissors back down within arms reach. Hold for seven, exhale for eight. I repeated the process again, watching Annabeth whispering to Leo.

I can feel the initial freak out subsiding. I’m starting to calm down a little.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Piper repeats. Well duh, they’re the good guys. A spike of pure what the fuck shoots through me, as I realize I’m already adapting to the fact that fictional fucking characters are standing in my kitchen. Leo’s ignoring Annabeth, and still staring at me, searching my eyes for... something.

Piper’s brow furrows. I call past Piper to Annabeth.

“Yeah, hi op, what the fuck?” They all have a silent conversation for a minute, and I continue, “Anyone want to tell my why the fuck fic-”

“We can tell you what’s going on, but it’s going to sound crazy.” Piper starts.

“After the past five minutes, probably not.” I glance past her shoulder, Leo’s still examining me. I look away, overwhelmed almost immediately. About 30% of my brain is just an endless loop of ‘ohmygodohmygodohmygod he’s real??? Like,,,, r e a l real????? Aj;dlfkajskdla ohmygod he’s looking at me what the fuck richard’, 20% was still trying to calm down from freaking out so much earlier, so I was at about half brain power for the conversation ahead.

“Okay, wait. Let me get this straight.” they stare at me in silence. We’re standing in the hallway outside the kitchen, and I feel like a complete disaster trying to process what they’re telling me and not look like a total idiot.

“So, Calypso went missing, and Leo got Aphrodite to activate his soulmate link so he can find her and it led you here?” I’m already smiling. There’s no chance, I can’t get my hopes up.

Piper continues, “Which means it might not be Calypso.”

“Unless you’re wearing a really good disguise or something,” Leo says. I’m pretty sure that’s the first time he’s spoken to me. I let out a breathy laugh and look away from him. If I try to look at him my brain goes haywire. Scenes from stuff I’ve written about him on my tumblr flash in my mind, and it makes me feel like I’m about to explode.

“Yeah, the reason we know is-”

“The gods are real, monsters are after you, et cetera et cetera. Yeah.” They seem a little surprised that I’m more concerned with the soulmate part than the mythology part, but I’ve been reading these books since middle school. We been knew.

Piper keeps looking between Leo and me with a weird look on her face. God, Piper, don’t get my hopes up. A knowing look passes over her face and she looks around the room again.

“Gods, where did he go…” She gets up and leaves the room. No one says anything. Between right then and when she gets back should have been in a ‘top ten most devastating anime uncomfortable silences’ compilation. She enters again a few seconds later, a tall hot guy behind her. He has red flowers in his hair and isn’t wearing a shirt for some reason. He looks between me and Leo.

“I see… interesting.” he turns to me and says, “Can you tell me anything… personal about him?” My face flushes. I turn to Piper.

“Sorry, but who the fuck?”

“I mean the only noncanon stuff I know is what I came up with for like, writing and stuff but that doesn’t count-” I sputter.

“Eros.” she replies, “My mom sent him along to help find the right person.”

“Normally I’d be able to tell instantly, but my powers don’t seem to work here very well.” his voice is like honey, and it seems like he’s heavily implying something no matter what he says.

“Yeah, go on hermosa,” Leo says, smirking, “take a whack at it.” His voice sounds so much more… real than I could have imagined. If I could verbally keysmash, I would have then and there.

“Hmm… why don’t you try anyway. What kind of lover is he?” the room erupts into protests. They don’t want to hear personal stuff about their friend, I don’t want to talk about cripplingly embarrassing smut headcanons in front of the character they’re about, and he probably doesn’t want me taking a wild guess at his bedroom habits. Eros turns to Percy, Annabeth, and Piper.

“You two, out. You, leave but stay close.” They leave the room hastily.

“Since I’m the god of sexual desire, I know what gets people going. I’ll be able to tell if you’re right or not. ” Eros says. I risk a glance at Leo, who I have a feeling has been staring at me a lot. He leans forward, playful intrigue all over him. How is he not dying inside??

“Ah ah,” Eros says to Leo, “you too.” Leo obliges, and heads up the stairs.

“H- okay, uh… he acts like a top, but he’s really kind of a bottom,” I choke out, trying to remember details from past posts, and Eros nods in approval, encouraging me to keep going, “he’s really-” my voice falters, and I hide my head in my hands, “he’s really vocal, like really vocal… uh…”

“Oh yes, I can tell.” Eros says, and I laugh slightly. “What else?”

“More? God okay… uh… he really likes hickeys, and-” I choke on my words, still unsure of how I got in this situation.

“He holds hands a lot in… the bedroom? God…” I trail off.

“The next morning, he kind of… he just sort of stares at you while you get dressed and stuff. I don’t know anyone else who does that.”

Eros studies me for a second. My heart is beating so hard. How long does it take to say yes or no? I’m uncomfortably aware of the distracting adrenaline in my arms and chest and head.

“Interesting,” he says, then stands up and leaves the room.

What the fuck, is he not going to tell me anything?

I’m listening as closely as I can, and I’m pretty sure I hear Eros say five out of five. I got everything right or everything wrong. Nailed it or failed it.

Piper speeds past me a second later and races up the stairs. After a few seconds she comes back down. She nods toward the staircase.

“You should go talk to him.” a knowing smile is playing at the corner of her mouth, and I can’t stop one from starting on mine. I run up the stairs, and see him, kneeling on my bed, reading what’s on my laptop.

Oh god, no.

He stands up. He’s staring at me so intensely, I look away immediately. I start sputtering out a panicked apology and sit down on my bed, moving to shut the lid of my laptop.

“Uh… I just listen to a song or something that makes me think of you,” my voice gets really tiny at that last part, “and stuff starts to pop into my head. I just keep replaying it, and uncovering more details so I can wr- wait,” I start to look up at him, but can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. I stare intensely at the pattern on my quilt instead. “Did you say remember?” He lets out a breathy laugh, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“-of course I never thought you were going to read any of that, or…” His hand is on top of mine, my hand and voice freezing at the same time.

“How… did you remember all this?” my fears are being squashed. He doesn’t sound mad, or grossed out, or judgemental. He sounds… impressed.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m only starting to get back bits and pieces, but you remember… everything.”

“Wait wait…” I mutter, completely dazed, “so it wasn’t… it was all real?” I feel him nodding behind me, and he makes a noise of agreement.

“It was genius, really… as soon as I felt like I was remembering something, I’d forget it.” His other hand rests on my shoulder, palm flat against my back. “Only you would think to write it like that…”

“So… it all happened?” I breathe, my face heating up as I think of the titles marked with a little asterisk.

“Yeah,” I bite my lip, feeling his breath over my skin. It’s quiet for a second. The mattress shifts and I can feel him leaning closer to me, feel the heat coming off his body. His lips are dangerously close to my ear.

“Want something else to write about?”

Oh my fucking god.

I nod before I finish registering what he said. His free hand moves to my cheek, tilting my face towards him, and my skin explodes with sparks where he touches me.

Our lips brush.

We both freeze.

Flood gates open. Countless vivid images and feelings and scenarios flash across my mind. It was like watching a movie connecting every fic I’ve written. I gasp-laugh a little, and he does the same. It seems like the visions or whatever that he’s seeing are a lot more intense than mine. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me stronger, more intensely, more passionately than he had before. He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, and presses his lips to mine. Everywhere he touches feels carbonated, and I’m trying not to smile too much. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in the moment than right this second. He pulls me closer, tilting his head and deepening the kiss. I didn’t know a kiss could be deeper than it had been a few seconds ago. His mouth moves feverishly against mine. My arms move up on instinct, one hand playing with his hair, the other tracing the collar of his shirt. He shifts his weight, and one hand on my waist, lowers me back onto my bed. His left hand intertwines with my right, and I smile, remembering what I had told Eros earlier.

“Estrella,” He groans into my mouth, our teeth scraping as we smile in spite of ourselves, and I get the sense the nickname was an ‘as you wish’ type of thing, from the Princess Bride. It feels like he’s saying I love you. My heart speeds up as he nuzzles into my neck, pressing kisses and little bites into my skin. I think about the nickname I always thought would suit him, the one I kept writing down over and over. Now or never.

“Sparky…” I smile, hiding my face in his hair. He freezes for a second, then lets out that breathy laugh again, his face in my neck. His lips graze my collarbone, and he starts to say something, but the door opens suddenly, and we jump apart. It doesn’t help much though, because he’s still hovering over me on all fours and we both look very flushed. And I’m pretty sure the start of a hickey is forming on my neck.

“Right,” she replies, “we gotta get going, the door is closing soon, so come down stairs as soon as you’re… free.”

“Sorry!” Annabeth yells, averting her eyes. Leo and I stumble over each other’s flustered responses.

“-looks bad but nothing… happened… we d- we didn’t like, do anything...” I trail off.

The door closes.

“I’m coming with you guys?” I breathe. He looks over at me, that unflappable sense of playfulness present as ever.

Leo sits back, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, we should get back soon. Everyone else will be worried once they remember.” My heart plummets. I didn’t know you could go from feeling so incredibly euphoric to beyond miserable in about five seconds. I open my mouth to choke out a response, but before I can, he stands up and stretches a little.

“Do you wanna change before we go?” The question has such a normal tone to it, it’s a little bizarre after all the unusual things that have happened today. The bad feeling and tears at the corners of my eyes start to recede.

“Of course you are. If you think I’m losing you again this soon you’re crazier than I am.” I let out a relieved laugh, and stand up. I look down at my monster foot slippers and sweatpants.

“You know where to find me,” he winks before closing the door on his way out.

“Yeah, I should probably change.” He pulls me close to him, one hand comes up to the back of my neck, the other on my hip. He starts swaying us back and forth, dancing around my room.

“Well, if you need any help…” I laugh, and shove him away playfully.

I take a second to catch my breath. Oh my god. Thoughts are still racing in the back of my mind, but I don’t pay attention. I don’t have time to worry about what’s real and what’s not, I need to find the perfect demigod adventure outfit. I throw open my closet, start shuffling through dresser drawers, digging through my shoes. I don’t remember having one or two of the pieces, but after a minute, I find exactly what I’m looking for. It’s the exact outfit I’d always imagined myself in if I ever went to camp half blood. I search through my accessories, grab a bag, and hastily fill it with anything I think I’ll probably need. I turn back to my laptop, and change my blog description to on hiatus. I check my hair, flattening out the back from before, and determine I’m ready to go.

I walk down the stairs, and everyone’s watching me. I feel like it’s prom or something, which sounds silly since I’ve got on ripped jeans and a backpack instead of a dress and clutch. Leo’s watching me with that look, the one that makes his eyes all sparkly, and he meets me at the bottom of the stairs. He puts his arm around my shoulder.

“Ready to go home, Estrella?”

I have never been more ready for anything.

#Leo Valdez #leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus imagine

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pencilofawesomeness · 4 years ago

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Fics I Absolutely Adore and Would Recommend to Anyone

I’ve been meaning to do this for a long, long time, because I love reading fanworks and they deserve a lot of love and I love sharing things that I love.

Obviously this isn’t everything, and if it’s not on this list that doesn’t mean I don’t love it, it just means I forgot at this moment. I will be adding to the list and I remember things or come across it again. (Trying to sort through my bookmarks and subscriptions is like trying to catch a fish bare-handed.) I’m also gonna shy away from the one-shots, even though I adore fun one-shots, just for the sake of organization. The list would be super long otherwise, and those are best sorted by fandom. Here... Here are just some brilliant works I want to rant about.

Disclaimer: I say “recommend” because I would recommend these works, any time any place, but do keep in mind the story’s rating and tags and stuff. Not everything is kid-friendly.

There is absolutely no hierarchy to the list below. They are added as I add.

Fairy Dance of Death

by Catsy ( @fairydanceofdeath )

Fandom: Sword Art Online Word Count: 660,282 Status: ongoing

「AU reboot of the entire SAO storyline, beginning from the premise that Kayaba Akihiko was obsessed with magic and Norse Mythology rather than swords and pure melee. As a result, he created the Death Game of Alfheim Online rather than the floating castle of Aincrad—a world in which player-killing is not a crime, and the nine player races are in competition with each other to reach the top of the World Tree. Multi-POV epic following the stories of multiple canon characters throughout the game.」

If Catsy wrote the SAO light novels and anime, SAO would be among the legendary series. Fairy Dance of Death has this amazingly simple premise of making Alfheim Online, the video game from the original series’ less-than-stellar second part, the game that the main cast becomes trapped in. However, it’s so much more. They took the characters and made them characters, and everyone gets ample spotlight—even background characters that normally wouldn’t receive a second thought. It’s masterful work, and to boot, there is a lovely frame of in-game mystery and player conflict. The organization is phenomenal and I aspire to world-build the way they did. Not to mention that stakes are so much higher and this series has ripped my heart to shreds more than once.

It has also brought me great joy, and even when I was in the dumps and didn’t want to read anything, a FDOD update made me pick up my phone and read when I otherwise wouldn’t have. It has a really special place in my heart. It updates once in a blue moon, but that’s okay.

Even if you have never seen a single piece of Sword Art Online, Fairy Dance of Death is still a great read. In fact, it’s the Better Version of SAO, if we’re all being honest, so I would especially recommend it if you hadn’t seen the original. Or if you have. The characters are given so much love and detail, to the point where Fairy Dance of Death’s characterizations are More Canon to me than Kawahara Reki’s work. It is just a beautiful piece of fiction, and it makes you question the depravity of man on levels that SAO shied away from.

Poisoned Dreams

by StrangeDiamond

Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 82,852 Status: Complete, with a complete sequel and more to come

「 Every night now, Diluc dreams of death. Usually Kaeya's. In between these nightmares his life is falling apart. It doesn't take Kaeya long to realize that this is something much more insidious than simple bad dreams. His brother's life and sanity are on the line and there is nothing Kaeya won't do to save him. Bonus chapter added.」

In a growing fandom from a new game, StrangeDiamond swooped in and characterized these bad boys so well I think it’s canon. It really breathes life into the video game lore, and it’s an A+ depiction of awkward sibling re-bonding post-Terrible-Happenings. Poisoned Dreams can be read alone with a basic understanding of Genshin storybuilding, but StrangeDiamond has an entire group of fics and oneshots set in the same headcanon, and they integrate them really well and subtly together. Not to mention that the narrative style is really clever with making you question what is real and what is dream (a big point in this story) and the inner voices of the point-of-view characters are very compelling.

One Word to Change the World

by AgentMalkere

Fandom: Fairy Tail Collective Word Count: 43,988 (30 parts) Status: probably never coming back

「 In just one universe, Ultear called out to her mother instead of turning away and the fate of Fairy Tail and the world was irrevocably altered. These are glimpses of a world where a single word made all the difference.

In other words, welcome to the Butterfly Effect - Fairy Tail style. 」

It’s a really cute canon-divergent, and while the series makes no attempt to re-write Fairy Tail, it addresses the major events and just snippets in between. It does a good job at giving the vast cast ample spotlight, but it’s also an easy read. It’s special to me because it was the series that made me really pay attention to Bickslow in particular, and I respect that.

Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis

by aradian_nights

Fandom: Attack on Titan Word Count: 399,226 Status: Complete

「 Five years ago, an accident freed Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, and Armin Arlelt from an experiment that forced the most extraordinary powers onto them. After five years of separation, of being raised apart to be heroes by a set of three very different adults, they meet again. As they uncover the truth behind their captivity they realize being free and being heroes are sadly nothing but an illusion. 」

This wrecked me.

I still remember when I read it. It was the beginning of 2018, and I had the flu and a lot of time on my hands, so I binge-read this. It was simultaneously the best and the worst thing I have ever done, because I resonated with it so deeply there were times I was just staring up at the ceiling wondering what was real. I empathized with the characters to a level I rarely achieve, and I empathize easily. I laughed. I cried. It was amazing.

I refer to this story in conversation to this day. It handled themes published authors have only dreamed of achieving. Heck, if Dani (the author) took out the names of the AoT cast and replaced it with new ones, it could be its own stand alone novel. It is worldbuilding from the ground up, and any fandom knowledge you take in with you is used against you like a knife leveraged against your throat. Yet, no one is out of character. It’s phenomenal. I would say more, but this is something I daren’t spoil for anybody, because you must be as wrecked as I was. Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis is a level of writing I achieve to gain as a writer myself. It is a masterpiece in every sense of the word.

Life in Glass Houses

by blueskyscribe ( @blueskyscribe )

Fandom: Transformers (Transformers Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass) Word Count: 119,900 Status: Ongoing (maybe, I hope)

「 No one would have thought Bumblebee and Knock Out were capable of getting along, but when they're stuck in a strange new world and their only hope of survival is cooperation . . . Yeah, they're probably doomed. 」

I could be biased because Knock Out and Bumblebee are two of my favorite characters, but it really is brilliant. Two enemies, stuck together—but not in an overly cliché way. It’s the right amount of cliché, with heaps moral conflict and inner conflict and sometimes just beating each other with a broom when no one is looking. It’s also a fascinating look into what makes a character the way they are in relation to the morals they possess, and how stalwart those morals can be. I can’t help but think of this story whenever I see or write a “role reverse” or mirror-verse AU. It does an excellent job at making all of the characters engaging and their own character, despite being in a mirror-verse.

Yesterday Upon the Stair

by PitViperOfDoom ( @pitviperofdoom )

Fandom: My Hero Academia Word Count: 424,070 Status: Complete

「 Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it.

But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless.

Not that anyone would believe it if he told them. 」

As a person who normally doesn’t read these kind of minor canon divergences, especially at the time of reading, I frickin’ love this fic. In fact, I think YUTS gave me a deep appreciation for canon divergence fics. It’s MHA in all of its glory but it’s so much more, and even the parts that rehash canon give new light to the characters and their points of view.

I had read Viper’s work before and saw Yesterday Upon the Stair filling my inbox, and then I finally watched My Hero Academia. It was one of the first MHA fics I read and it still has a very special place in my heart. I recommend this series to people who don’t even watch MHA; in fact, there are some who might prefer the darker tones and themes of heroism vs apathy to the main series. Not to mention the writing style is phenomenal, and I aspire to be that good. It made me laugh. It made me cry. Yes, tears streaming down my face crying. It is the best ghost story I have ever read.

the Vantage Point Universe

by Aggie2011 ( @aggie2011whoop )

Fandom: The Avengers (MCU) Collective Word Count: 1,032,651 (35 parts) Status: Ongoing (just slowed down)

「 Six months after the Loki incident, Clint isn't adjusting well. When an enemy from his days in the Army comes back to haunt him, he'll be forced to face a part of his past - and to move past Loki, if he has a hope of finding his place with the Avengers. (First of a universe created to center around Clint Barton) 」

// description taken from first installment

Have you enjoyed the MCU, especially the first-era Avengers phase, but like me, were disappointed in the fact that Hawkeye was barely there? The VP universe is for you.

I honestly have a hard time remembering what was canon and what was VP. And if it’s not canon, it should be. The VP universe gave so much life to Clint and to Natasha and to all of SHIELD and even the rest of the Avengers. It’s just...so good. It’s completely immersive. It focuses a lot on Hawkeye and Black Widow from before the Avengers team-up, as well as after, and it all flows together so beautifully. Not to mention that I can be reading a mission that happened pre-series, so I know that they are going to live with all of their limbs, and I still sit there on the edge of my seat the whole time.

The OCs, minor as they are, that are created for this are also wonderfully done. I can’t believe Dan and Phil don’t exist in canon. Every character, canon or no, is engaging and dynamic, it is a pleasure to follow each point of view. The emotional turmoil is also handled very well, and the VP universe carries the MCU trend of humanizing its heroes and takes it so much further.

Ghosts of the Future

by Evan Stanley ( @evanstanleyportfolio )

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog Word Count: comic (18 issues) Status: ongoing

「 About 200 years in the future, Silver the Hedgehog is an average kid living in San Francisco... except for his strange and terrible dreams of a dying Blue Hedgehog, a Black Hedgehog, and mysterious gems called "Chaos Emeralds". What will he do, when these "figments of his imagination" appear before him in his real life? 」

// description taken from first installment

Okay so this is the only one that isn’t an Ao3 story, but rather a comic on DeviantArt. However, it is still one of my favorite stories. Even though it takes the commonalities of Sonic canon and turns them on its head, GotF really treats the characters well. There are enough familiar world elements to create intrigue, but it is set in a completely different take of the future, so there is ample opportunity for world building and being able to engage with a completely new thing. I wish SEGA put as much love in the series (namely the games, because the comics are *chef’s kiss*) and all of its possibilities as creators like Evan Stanley do.

The friendship and family relationships in GotF are so diverse and all so fantastic to witness. It’s a keynote example of the new hero and the old veterans, and both parties are active and trying their best.

Do not be alarmed by the starting art style. Sure, it’s rough around the edges at first, but then it gets better, and then it gets gorgeous, and then you’re left there so stunned that it looks like just life canon art. And then you could be like me, blinking slowly as my small brain finally connected that this Evan Stanley is in fact the Evan Stanley. GotF is an amazing fanwork, but she also draws and writes for the Official Canon comics (the IDW ones now) and that work is also phenomenal and should be supported.

Whirlwind

by Lynse ( @ladylynse )

Fandom: Danny Phantom, American Dragon: Jake Long, Miraculous Ladybug, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja Word Count: 75,556 Status: Complete

「 Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny really should've expected something like this when he got that phone call from Jake. (Secret Quartet fic) 」

I have to start by saying that I adore all of Lynse’s fics, and I chose this one simply because it is one of my favorites. But it’s all fantastic, one hundred percent. I also love Mirrored, the sort-of prequel to this fic, but Whirlwind just has the chaotic pure bean energy that each of the shows bring and it foils against each other so perfectly. This is the epitome of the Secret Quartet crossover, truly.

All fandoms and all characters get ample love, and the way the reader gets to see just how badly the characters’ assumptions are going is positively wonderful. It’s so easy to fall into the “I know what’s happening and so do the characters” trap, but Lynse leaps over it gracefully and lands in greatness. The fic had me smiling like a maniac one minute, and feeling sorry for my babies the next. Wonderful. Simply fantastic!

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twilightofthe · 3 years ago

Note

so what animes have you seen already?

Oh boy! Not many tbh, I only really started watching it last winter when my roommate asked if I wanted to give it a try! I haven’t watched anything from any studio that did Visions (yet), but I wanna soon!

Animes I HAVE seen, in order:

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood — Aight so when roomie suggested we watch an anime, a friend who had seen a lot of them recommended this one to watch first as it was a good “starter anime”, and y’all idk if it’s just because it’s the first one I watched but I’ve still gotta call it my favorite one because y’all it’s SO FUCKING GOOD. Like that’s understatement of the century but I don’t have time to write an essay on why it’s so good lol just trust me it’s GOOD. 11/10s on EVERYTHING about it. Plot, characters, setting, everything. My one sadness is that I would not be good at writing fic for it lol.

Demon Slayer — YouTube AMVs and seeing it pop up on Netflix had us start this one next and y’all it’s probably the prettiest anime I’ve seen like ever, like the art style is chef’s kiss. Amazing story and AWESOME characters too, very good, 10/10 would recommend. I think I could write a decent fic for it if a plot ever came to me.

The Great Pretender — The only non-action/fight anime on the list, roomie and I tried it out because we figured we should see something different? It was on Netflix so we looked. It was good, clever writing, good characters got a little bit weird in the second season, particularly at the end, but overall it’s a decent watch. I could write fic for the shipping aspect but again, no plot ideas because the plot is fuckin weird.

Akame Ga Kill — Roommate had seen this before, recommended it to me. The characters were decent, setting was interesting! Pretty art style too, but I was like, verrrrry critical of the plot throughout the entire singular season lol, so take that as you will. Actually no yeah plot was kinda wack. My fave character deserved better tho.

Castlevania — Okay okay I know I know not an anime, but it’s a similar artstyle. (Also I think the game it’s based off of is a Japanese game?) Actually watched the first two seasons a while ago, but then watched the third and fourth with roommate. Y’all it’s REALLY good, literally everyone in the damn show is fucking hot and I’m jealous, I ship the throuple HARD hard. I think I could maybe write a decent fic for it if, again, I had any plot motivation lol

Trese — Again, cheating because not anime, but this one is still non-Western (Filipino) media and it’s glorious. I’ve never seen an episode of Supernatural but I feel that this show is like, what Supernatural wishes it could be. Another gorgeous artstyle and I’m so gay for the MC and the first season left me with so many questions so I really hope it gets another one! I gotta get around to reading the webcomic

D.Gray-Man — Okay this one is entirely the fault of @jasontoddiefor who got back into it and promptly dragged everyone he knew down with him, and I am so very glad he did because this is a fantastic— and I’d argue relatively underrated —series. Artstyle is gorgeous (certain characters be very hot), the character arcs are brilliant, I love all the characters, and the worldbuilding is so friggin creative, like I’d put it up there as another one of my faves. I actually did write a fic for this, but publishing a fic in an unfamiliar fandom is terrifying and bad for my anxiety and it’s gonna take me like five more years to work up the courage to do it again lol.

Sword Art Online — Currently watching right now with roommate. I heard some not very good things about it, but my roommate wanted to give it a try so I sat down and watched with them. Sure enough it’s been a case of half the time I’m flailing over the nice animation and how creative the worldbuilding is and the charm and potential all the characters have……………….. and then the other half of the time I’m banging my head against the wall repeatedly because it pulled some seriously stinky bullshit lol. So yeah watch it’s promising but also Suffer in not the good way.

Fire Force — Also currently watching! On my own this time, roommate already watched and recommended. This one is VERY good, like I am super into the plot and the setting and everything to do with the universe. Still getting into the characters and it’s taking a bit more time? So the watch is going slower than usual, but that’s alright! The entire premise makes up for it.

So that’s all the anime I’ve seen! I’ve also seen 2.5 Studio Ghibli movies and they are all JUST as good as people say they are (Kiki’s Delivery Service, Howl’s Moving Castle, and bits and pieces of Princess Mononoke) 1000/10 recommend.

You didn’t ask about the manga I’ve read but I’ll list them anyway! For the record I’m not a huge manga reader because my eyes find it hard to see the illustrations when everything is in different shades of black and white, it makes action scenes in particular really difficult to read, which is a problem when you usually like action plots

Demon Slayer — The anime isn’t complete yet and after the movie I wanted to know MORE so I hunted down the manga and binged it all. Y’ALL GOTTA READ IT IT’S STILL SO FUCKIN GOOD AND I’D DIE FOR SO MANY CHARACTERS I’M IN LOVE WITH SO MANY

D.Gray-Man — Same thing as Demon Slayer, the anime isn’t complete yet and neither is the manga BUT so I read the rest of what’s been written. Hoo hoo HOO I hope they animate more of it because the plots coming up are brilliant and I want it

My Hero Academia — Look, EVERYONE is yelling about this one and it trends like once a week and like five irl friends love it so I figured there was too much anime out but I had to know so I’d just skim the manga just to figure out what the fuck the hype was. It’s good, lol, I totally get the hype now, the strength is in the worldbuilding and a whole handful of extremely interesting yet surprisingly simple character types that work to drive the plot forward. There is so much potential here and I could definitely write fic for this but I am not touching that fandom with a ten foot pole and that’s coming from a Star Wars fan 😂

Yona of the Dawn — Currently reading this!!!! Ok so there’s a season of an anime out for this, I walked in to see my other roommate watching what was probably one of the horniest scenes in it. I was immediately like “👀👀👀👀 shit fuck that’s hot do these heteros have rights????” I was about to plop my ass down and start watching but roommate was like “oh there’s only one season and it’s unfinished and I know you don’t like unfinished stuff” so I promptly got my ass up and googled the manga so I could see more. Y’all it is GOOD, if you love the dramatic romances from Star Wars this is RIGHT up your alley and dare I say better, the plot is lovely, the characters are great, and I am SO MAD there’s only one anime season. I’d absolutely write fic for this if I was more confident, I have so many polyship ideas!!!!!!

#SORRY FOR RAMBLING Y’ALL #next anime i wanna watch is jujutsu kaisen i’ve heard so many good things about it!!!!!!#or maybe promare cuz i wanna support the visions studios!#so yeah i’m an anime newb y’all can judge me on my tastes if you agree or not or give recs!#morai musings #not star wars #long post

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washymylifeaway · 4 years ago

Note

hi! do you have any favourite fantasy/mythology esque sakuatsu fics?

Haikyuu SakuAtsu fanfic recs: Fantasy Edition!!!!

To the anon who requested this, you are an ABSOLUTE GOD. I don’t know if you know, but fantasy AND mythology are some of my FAVORITE genres of ALL TIME. STILL, I saw the esque and I ran with it (cause there isn’t a lot of like pure fantasy or mythological journey fics ie. my poor excuse OOPS LOL and I wasn’t too sure what would be okay on this list AHAHA), so if it’s not the right kind of fics you were looking for, I’M SO SORRY :((((((( May this rec list be up to your expectations!!!!!! (And if it isn’t, feel free to re-request :’))))),,,, ALSO, ignore me switching between Sakusa and Omi LOL.)

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for each fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

if you make me feel in love / if you make me open up by volchitsae (E) 6.4k // this is a reincarnation AU, and it has a major folklore/japanese-ish mythology (gods) element to it. This honestly MIGHT be my favorite from this list cause it’s just done SO well and I LOVE the reunion after the TRAGEDY :’)))) I’m trying to be vague cause I REALLY don’t want to spoil this fic at ALL, so PLEASE read it heh.

my love, take your time by bastigod (T) 9k // this is another reincarnation AU, but this time it’s with greek-ish mythology :’D However, the fantasy part of it is kinda on the back burner (ahaha oops LOL). It becomes more apparent near the end of the fic, but the build up to it is worth reading, which is why it’s here LOL. I love how they added Sakusa’s own memories concerning certain things, and how he collected pieces of them in the museum! The writing is so good, but also, I’m a sucker for Omi making lists relating to Atsumu hehe.

your flame will not survive in this cold tundra by awkwardedgeworth (T) 26.5k // this is an AtLA AU, but even if you don’t know the show, you’ll still enjoy it! I absolutely love this fic and the plot is really AMAZING and asihfkjahsdkfjak their DEVELOPMENT. Especially with the separation of POV’s in both chapters (and what we get to see which we didn’t previously) UGH,,,, it was so GOOD. (Their other AtLA AU fics are really good too, so don’t be shy, go read them as well LOL.)

one life, one encounter by bastigod (G) 5.7k // this is a japanese-ish mythology AU, with our first appearance of foxsumu. We do stan Kita-san and Sakusa being friends with one another in this house :D This fic was really cute and Sakusa is so baby in this (but in a GOOD WAY), and when he talks to Atsumu at first,,, HE SOUNDED SO LONELY LIKE I’LL BE YOUR FRIEND :((((((

give me a moment so devoted by volchitsae (T) 4.5k // immortals! YES! I really really like this one and I think that their relationship in it was SO cute. I am really into the idea of Atsumu being insufferable throughout Omi’s lifetime and them having INSIDE JOKES AHHHHH. It’s really light and fluffy so if you just want some love in your life, this is the read :)

show you my best disguise by volchitsae (T) 5.1k // this one has NICE Sakusa in it (which I think should be more common fight me) and their relationship with one another is actually good from the beginning :D I love how naturally it progressed and how we get to see the habits slowly build as they spend time with one another. Very good fic, but not lots of magic until the end LOL. (There’s also a lot of poetry LOL.)

both our hands speak for us and complicate it by volchitsae (M) 8.6k // MAGIC/superpowers :D FIRST, the puns are such a nice touch to this fic and SECOND we do love the yachi/yama agenda being pushed here. I really like the conditions Sakusa’s powers have, and how that added to the plot (and the ending for that matter, may there be a universe where they can touch LOL). Honestly, the magic is also kinda back burner for this one and it focuses more on relationship dev. but it’s still a fun read so I added it LOL.

Rain and Its Incendiary Properties by firtree (M) 24.5k // so we get some Sakusa turning into vampire backstory in this one, and the revelation of more mythical beings LOL. Bless Komori and tbh Suna for being some MVP’s in this fic, we do love the familial bonds :)))) But also, the knowledge at the end does give some second hand embarrassment so brace yourself LOL.

two slow dancers by orphan_account (T) 1.2k // AHHHHHH BLOND SAKUSA! Also, yes another vampire fic. What? Sue me. This is just a load of fluff and sap from Atsumu, and warning: there ARE twilight references in this one ahahahaha. (If you thought that with this many vampire fics on the list, you would be safe from twilight, you obviously thought wrong.)

crimson colored lotus by sieges (M) 16.5k // this was a demon slayer AU LOL. TBH I haven’t watched DS, but you honestly don’t really need to in order to read this LOL. It’s explained really well and the writing is AMAZING! It’s not a linear fic, but you can read it in order if you so choose. I know it’s a stretch for this list, but it’s just that good, okay? LOL.

how can I not be moved (by you) by Ann1215 (T) 26.4k // this has warlock Atsumu (with an actual REASON for his blond-ness that isn’t Osamu) and halfling Sakusa, who is eventually a sap LOL. I really love fics with familiars and animals so this fic was one that I really liked hehe. The ending? Embarrassing but we do love the love LOL. Also the second part with Atsumu’s POV, FLUFF like, yes please give me all the love :DDDDD

enchanted to meet ya by zantetsvkens (T) 4.8k // FAST BURN but it makes sense. I agree with the a/n at the end for the confession, so there’s that LOL. I liked this one because the tactful provoking was SO good and funny for that matter HAH. But Sakusa WOULD be more concerned with the window costs than Atsumu’s wellbeing (it had to have been said).

when morning comes we'll be safe by bestcarrot (T) 2.7k // another demon slayer AU even though I’ve never read or watched ds? Yes. Again, sue me. I know it’s teeeeeeechnically a stretch BUT fox demon Atsumu...... (Also it’s written so well I felt like I needed to add it okay? :’)))))) AND yes, I WAS holding onto the no character death (YOU SHOULD TOO), the close ending was scary.

a boy is a thing with fangs by unthank (T) 3.5k // foxsumu! ngl I’ll just be straight up honest with you all, I added this for the response Sakusa has to Atsumu when they’re watching SunaOsa play shogi in the next fic LOL. I thought it was so funny and perfect for that moment please. Just,,,, forgive me once AHAHAH.

Falling For You (Literally) by Anubis_2701 (T) 6.5k // clumsy Atsumu makes me feel some type of way LOL. This is another NICE, soft Sakusa fic (like i said we need more: me pretending like I don’t see the tag for it LOL) and it’s just really cute. There’s some medical tings that occur (cause Omi is literally a magical medic LOL), but it’s just very FLUFF hehe.

The curse of a blessing by basinnit (E) 7.8k // CHECKING WARNINGS AND TAGS!!!!!!! I felt like I knew what was going to happen, but DENIAL IS NICE OKAY. Honestly, it seems short with it’s 7.8k word count, but with the number of mental breaks you’re gonna need,,,, it’ll seem long. Also, yes Atsumu punching people (one person in particular) because I would’ve too and I love that person >:((((( It looks scary and confusing with the tags, but I’d read it anyway LOL. (If you’re wondering, the magic is that Suna and Sakusa are warlocks LOL.)

The Fox Prince by cinnamonlove (T) 13.1k // okay there are some INSULTS thrown (and lots of cursing LOL) and so TW: LOTTA CURSE WORDS. Aside from that, we see once again MVP Komori making an appearance, but also vulnerable SakuAtsu near the end :0 It’s definitely an interesting fic, so that’s why it’s here LOL. (Also it’s like fake foxsumu but not really,,,, you’ll understand.)

the echoing halls by ohwickedsoul (T) 11.7k // GAH THIS ONE WAS SO GOOD. To read it though, some background knowledge (or google LOL) is needed cause the mythology references are very strong in this one. But I love when Sakusa was so desperate (honor’d light AUAHFKJDHFKJS) and Atsumu was aboutta (basically) punch him LOL. V GOOD V CUTE IN LOVE? I AM.

Did I just take this ask as an excuse to read a crap ton of fantasy/mythology AUs instead of doing any of my other work? Yes, yes I did. Also, I know it’s kinda short (LOL NOT ME SAYING THIS but I did NOT (surprising IK) put some of the fics I liked D:), but I tried to REALLY narrow it down a bit hehe. I hope I didn’t miss too many good ones, and I’m sorry for not really staying on ‘topic’ LOL. I realized while re-reading these that a lot of them are just Atsumu like meeting Sakusa by chance and being like dang, he’s hot. Gotta bother him forever ig? Thank you for the ask, it was really fun and I hope you liked the fics hehe :)

#anon reply #SakuAtsu #haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #Haikyuu fanfic recs #hq fic rec #fic rec #japanese mythology #fantasy #haikyuu #anime #manga #I love these fics #thank you for the ask #it made me really happy #i hope you like them #LOL #rye rec reply

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ephemerlskies · 5 years ago

Text

the lighthouse | jjk

⇢ pairing: reader x jungkook

⇢ genre: one shot, fluff (what's new), strangers to "lovers", mutual pining, so much sap you're gonna have to shower after reading this, ANGST, jungkook is a literary scholar (?) of sorts

⇢ word count: 12k

⇢ warnings: as stated before, it's Cheesy with a capital C, lots of introspection, brief mentions of death, explicit language, mommy issues, (((major plot twist)))

⇢ summary: you and jungkook had one thing in common: you were both lost souls stagnant in the search of some fulfillment. the one of many differences was that your story had been written on your sleeves, while jungkook’s was a story needed to be unriddled. was this going to be another disappointing chapter in the book of unattainable desires or could your encounter with the mysterious man who lived in the lighthouse lead to something much more?

a/n: i'm super proud of how this turned out even though it ripped my heart out of my chest... this was probably my favorite fic to write and ahh im so happy to release it!!!! i hope you lovely little angels enjoy!! :) <3

What makes us human? This question posed by your philosophy teacher had been stalking your thoughts hours after class had ended. As the rain padded against your umbrella, you piled in a few answers to this question.

What makes us human? A question that would seemingly have a clear cut answer, but when you got down to it, there was no distinct characteristic that differentiates humans from other animals. It was easy to say something such as how we have complex linguistics or industrialized civilization, but that is to discredit how the packs of wolves howl to each other, the birds sing from tree to tree, the beavers diligently construct their dams, or the dirt cities in which ants build their own societies not much different than humans.

You pondered the idea that we love so deeply, even when it is often unreturned, but there is no denying the way a mother bear strikes down any and all enemies to protect her baby cub is anything other than true love.

So, what makes us human? You sat on a bench placed on the sidelines where you could witness small scenes of the lives of passing strangers. This sonder might be what makes us human. The knowledge that each person lives and loves and cries and fears and speaks and dies in ways with which you will never begin to familiarize. Life continues on around you despite how unimportant it may seem to the rest.

Does a lion waste any moment of his time wondering how the deer had found its way to the shallow pond, whilst preparing to strike? Of course not.

You watched a couple clinging onto each other and wondered where they met. You then were captured in the peace of an old woman prodding around in the grass with her golden retriever; perhaps it was her last companion. Then, your eyes drifted towards the two boys pushing each other over but with the gentleness one could only assume that was out of friendship or perhaps brotherhood.

And then you saw him.

Gentle fingers tracing the stacks of magazines lined in a perfect column; an arm that disappeared into the sleeve of his dark, wool coat. A tweed newsboy hat sheltering his eyes, and deep chestnut Oxford shoes stepping lightly, nearing a tiptoe, between the cracks of each cement plate, weathered by the infinite other shoes that tread on those very grounds. A body so magnetizing and moving as if it were a secret, and you couldn’t imagine why no one else had been ingested by the enigma that is this man. You longed for him to reveal these secrets that hid underneath his hat and coat, though if he wouldn’t, which he most likely wouldn’t, you had no problem with seeking them out yourself.

In a city filled with young souls draped in modern streetwear, jeans, bright colors, and converse or Dr. Martens or perhaps high heels, catching this needle in the haystack plugged into every synapse of wonderment. The muted tones of his clothing gleamed the brightest out of the sea of strangers.

This is what made you human. Your desire to know everything that lies barely beyond your wingspan. Everything you could hold was close to nothing in meaning, and everything your arms could not reach was always all you could ever want. The rise of your legs, the way you replicated his every movement, running your fingers along the stack of magazines, fastidious prancing in the spaces between the cracks, and your subtle pursuit of the man just out of reach was what made you human.

Bodies bustling through your path failed to untether you from this chase. It felt far beyond your power to stop yourself from the rising excitement and allure in your chest that pulled you towards him. The man was quick and swift to dodge oncoming bystanders, however your eyes became a missile fixed on a target.

The unexpected turn he took had you floundering for you had been trapped behind an older lady and a couple walking side by side. Sadly, your memorization of the streets and landmarks had been admisal, so you found yourself in uncharted territory. Each road sign and corner store had been displayed like a foreign language, and you mentally cursed yourself for letting your silly lust for learning what shouldn’t be learned lead you into this difficult position.

You stood defeated, the man had evaded your fragile trail behind him with ease. You lost him, or maybe he got away.

It was still midday, prompting you to make an end of this means. Your eyes discovered the coast set along the edge of the town, and though this was the furthest you had ever gone, you dared to go further. This mishap of yours granted you the opportunity to introduce yourself to the shore, and the waves have always delighted your interest. So, you found it just to walk down to the sand. The sound of the water pressing into the wet sand was calming; it was something you could find yourself getting used to. Luck presented itself kindly, giving you a moment unencumbered by the rain that had ceased not long after you stepped foot on the beach.

You took this time to be with yourself and sort out all the problems that have been worrying your mind these past few weeks. Your best friend, Chaeyoung, had an upcoming birthday that had snuck up on you before you had the chance to even think about getting her a card, let alone a gift or celebration. And you would be disappointed with yourself if you failed to outdo last year’s efforts. There was also the test in your Chemistry class scheduled only a day after her birthday, curtailing your plans of staying out late because there was no way you would allow for anything less than your very most on this exam. Then, there was the essay on what makes us human that you denied any chance of regaining priority to your list of worries, knowing it would gnaw at your mind until you forcibly shut it out.

And the man that willed you to seek him out, and that wore the title of his stories as if he intentionally wished to spark your wonder to learn them.

That should have been the last of your worries. It should have been.

The day began to fade into a warm, orange dusk. Skies once gloomy and grey now covered in blankets of clouds reflecting the sun’s gentle rays and you found yourself reunited with the calming feeling similar to when you first stepped on the beach.

Not long after registering how far you had traveled along the shore, you noticed a quaint lighthouse with a house-like structure at the base. The off-white stones cemented up until a red paneled roof covered it, tempting you to know what lies behind those walls.

It looked like it was about to rain again.

Are lighthouses closed off from the public?

There’s a house, there must be someone inside that could help me find my way home.

All these comments to yourself made to premise the conclusion of entrance into this lighthouse. As you approached the door, framed in oak lining and painted red, the clouds appeared heavy once again. A few drops of condensation was enough persuasion that what was about to be done was for the good of your well being. You pushed it open and a creak echoed around the room inside.

The walls were covered with stone bricks and there was one table in the center of the room. Other than that, this house was barren and if it weren’t for the second door that you guessed led to the lighthouse you would have called a car to take you home.

Your walk was pensive and mouse-like; there was some quality about this structure that made you feel like you weren’t alone and sudden movements would disrupt an established peace. Your hand turned the cold, gold-plated handle and pulled open the door, soon being met with a warm gust of air that engulfed you into the lighthouse.

This part of the building was exponentially more decorated than the room that preceded it. A staircase cemented into the sides of the lighthouse plastered with shelves upon shelves of books spiraled along the cylindrical walls, paired with dull lanterns that illuminated each level of railing had you drawn into its magnificence.

You stared up to what looked like a platform that held a place in which one would rest and look out into the ocean. There was no one in sight, and you assumed permission to climb up the staircase. Your eyes scanned each spine, creased and slightly warped from the moisture of the air, like they had been read over and over again. Your breath became heavy and your stare was focused on the books to ignore the dizziness settling in.

Reaching the top of the staircase came as a blessing, your lungs were close to catching fire. There were two armchairs, side by side, one fashioned a knitted blanket and the other was used as a table for five to seven or so novels, and the walls behind buried in high stacks of more books. There had to be at least seventy in the first half of piles you accounted for, and before you had the chance to snoop around the rest of the room you heard a voice coated with alarm behind you.

“What are you doing in here?” Your breath halted as you turned around, about to explain why you had let yourself into this building, however no amount of words could fully justify this invasive act.

You recognized the wool coat and the tweed hat now resting in his hand instead of on his head. His eyes were shrouded in a youthful innocence despite his attire that implied he was a sophisticate of some sort.

“Are you going to answer me or do I have to call the police?” The boom of his voice was chilling, sending shivers along your neck and chest.

“Sorry, I’m-” How could you possibly defend your intrusion without sounding juvenile or absolutely insane? “I was… It was raining and I just was walking on the beach so-”

“So, you decided breaking and entering was better than getting a little wet?” His barbed responses hurdled how you plaintively stuttered around excuses. Despite his efforts to seem menacing, you couldn't let go of his boyish facial features. It was absolutely astonishing to you that someone who looked young enough to attend your own college and handsome enough to garner quite a bit of attention had anything to do with this dingy, aged lighthouse.

“No, I was going to come in here to ask for directions. I’m lost.” The pitiful temperament of this comment was not intentional, but the man who now stood in front of you felt itched by it. He couldn't ignore how your legs trembled, partly from the cold but also because of his raised voice directed at you, and how that admittedly aroused some guilt.

“It’s fine. Just-” He sighed deeply, placing his hat on the side table adjacent to the left armchair, “You can just wait here until the rain stops. Though, I have to say it looks unrelenting at the moment.” The man’s attention was captured by how the heavy rain seemed to wage war against the raging tides. You caught a glimpse of a smile. The slightest upturn of the corner of his lips almost compelling you to reveal you had spotted him in the town earlier today, and that you found yourself enamoured with his every movement, and he was ironically the reason you were stuck here.

“Are you sure? I can go, I shouldn't have been here in the first place.” The words escaped from your mouth quickly as if they were trying to race each other to be spoken.

“No, I said it’s fine.” The suddenness of this offer hushed you. He then removed his wool coat, unveiling the clothes he wore beneath it. The burgundy crew neck sweater layered tastefully over a collared shirt was just as old fashioned as every other article of clothing he sported. How intriguing.

“I'm sorry.” Your muscles grew sore from suppressing how aggressively you would have been shaking from the cold. “Thank you.” Him granting you shelter gave you motive to keep the umbrella that would suffice to protect you from the rain under wraps. The option he presented was far more favorable.

“Sit down. Please, use this blanket.” He gestured towards the throw draped over the right armchair. His eyes avoided you as much as he could manage though you had this glow emulating from your wanting eyes and soft looking skin that crept to the corner of his vision too brightly to ignore. Consequently, this comment soothed both your body and mind for he unguarded a kindness that was hidden when he first spoke to you.

“My name is ___.” He was facing the window that displayed the sea, now thrashing and falling into itself, and without moving his head, his eyes drifted towards you.

“I know who you are.”

“Wh- How?” Maybe accepting an invite in a secluded lighthouse on the beach wasn’t the safest thing you could be doing on a Friday afternoon. Anxiety pioneered a place in your breathing, turning it rushed and choked.

Before your mind could theorize all the ways in which you could make an escape from this room or how quickly you could use your hidden umbrella as a weapon he said, “I noticed you following me in the town’s square earlier today.” You sighed, releasing the terror that pricked your lungs. If anything, it was he who should be afraid of you.

“I’m not a stalker!” That weak defense was all you could push from your throat before any well constructed explanations could be put forth.

His laugh, along with his cryptic gaze towards the waves, made you feel even worse about your actions.

“You were just so stunning and I wanted to know what kind of person still wears a newsboy hat without trying to make a statement.” Your lower lip tucked between your teeth stopped the nervous laugh about to spill and expressed worry that the more you tried to explain yourself, the more this man believed you should be charged for stalking not to mention trespassing.

“Stunning?”

“I mean, like, someone I’d want to meet.”

“What were you planning on doing once I stopped somewhere, or noticed you?” He questioned you only because he relished how you were scrambling to a proper defense. He knew you weren’t any threat to him, not many people were, however he enjoyed your chatter more than the silence that would have taken its place.

“I don't know, maybe just… introduce myself?” This sheepish, yet honest, reply had you drowning in humiliation, while the man before you seemed as if he were floating effortlessly along the surface.

“I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” Relief replaced the worry that he would turn you away, leaving you to the hands of the storm outside. The fact that any other person would have done so led you to believe Jungkook held a lot more compassion than he let on. You held your hand to greet him, finding it only polite to execute this formality. His, however, remained folded behind his back, notably denting your ego as you retracted your hand quicker than you extended it.

“Okay.” You muttered to yourself in slight embarrassment from this trivial rejection. “So, do you live here or something?” Your question was first replied to with a breath of annoyance. Jungkook was kind enough to allow you a sanctuary from the rain, exemption from the intrusion and stalking, and now he found himself having to entertain you.

“Yeah, something like that.” All this disinterested answer did was persist your attempts to break his catatonic gaze. However, his reserve had been solidified steadily over the years, so this venture was going to be tough.

“I didn’t know you could live in a lighthouse?” Your inquiry was spoken with the hopes this would ignite a lasting conversation.

“It’s not a lighthouse, technically.” Jungkook’s affirmative tone flew right over your head, conjuring even more annoyance that oddly enticed him to continue responding to your dense questions.

“Well, it looks like a lighthouse. It’s shaped like a lighthouse. It’s on the beach, just like a lighthouse.” A chuckle joined the sigh of his breath and his head that shook at your shallow observations. Jungkook eventually turned around and made his way towards the stacks of books, trying to preoccupy himself from whatever this exchange was. “All signs point to this being a lighthouse.”

“Well, it’s not. Lighthouses are meant to send signals to the ships out at sea. This doesn't,” His curt response tickled your amusement, only encouraging you to further aggravate him. “Therefore, not a lighthouse.”

“Okay,” You sounded agreeable, but this was soon followed by a doubtful comment whispered just loud enough for Jungkook’s ear to catch it, “It’s a lighthouse.” He found his stoicism melting away due to your spiteful attitude and conniving giggle in the face of his frustration. You wanted to get a rise out of him, and he knew this, and you were doing a fine job at it.

“It’s not-” His voice elevated with excitement, but he soon tamed the defensiveness threatening to spill from his lips, “Do you want to go back out into the rain?”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” Though, you sounded all but remorseful. The sly smirk resting on your face matched Jungkook’s satisfied expression, despite these smiles surfacing for different reasons. You couldn’t deny how humorous it was to distemper this man. How all the worries you laid out like the pebbles and seashells on this beach were washed away by the tides. Meanwhile, his grin provided little contribution in masking his enjoyment of your company and relentless curiosity.

You now sat in the right armchair, bundled in the blanket. It was not necessarily a thick blanket, but the chills once disturbing you had dwindled almost immediately. You were still entranced by Jungkook's movements. His hands were now occupied with a book from one of the stacks he’d been eyeing; the way he cradled the book like it was a newborn baby further revealed he had a somewhat protective attitude towards them.

“What are you reading?” His eyes remained between the pages and lines of the book, but his focus was yet again thieved by your incessant curiosity. Jungkook thought it irritating similarly to how one would find a cat disrupting their owner from work, annoying yet ever so endearing, and adorably distracting.

“I’m not reading, I’m being bothered by you.” His snark was meant to damage your brazen pestering, but unknown to him it merely fueled it.

“Boohoo.” No matter how elementary that retort was, you still managed to fever him and hold hostage his attention.

“I’m reading The Odyssey.” Jungkook surrendered to you, placing the book on his lap that was now sitting in the armchair next to yours. “Why do you ask so many questions?” His eyes laid on you the same way they laid on the sea, filled to the brim with fascination.

“I just wanted to know what you were reading.” Even when he expressed a clear indication that he was past your nonsense, it went unnoticed like the particles of dust flitting around the darkened room. This oblivion of yours prompted your next question. “Could you read it to me?”

His eyebrows furrowed at this request. Jungkook had already found himself exhausted by your persistence, and predicted ‘no’ would not be accepted as a viable answer. He just sighed and began to read aloud.

His soft voice somehow drowned out the sea’s commotion. The words flowed off his tongue as if he wrote the book himself; such poise for a young man lured you to immerse yourself in his narration and time grew more and more abstract.

After a bit, Jungkook paused to examine how you'd received his reading and he was pleased to find your chin resting in your palm and your eyes and ears fixed onto him as if he were reading the gospel. This made it difficult, impossible, to deny entry for the subtle blush working its way on his cheeks.

“Are you satisfied?” He closed the book, peering out of the window to check if the weather had eased since you arrived. Though the intensity of the storm hadn’t lightened in the slightest, there was a new tranquility adopted by the drizzling sky waters that sank and fed into the waves.

“Never.” You replied with a hungered conviction twisted into your words, “What happens next?”

Jungkook laughed in shock of how eager you were to hear more of this story. It was unlike someone who wasn’t well versed in literature to genuinely enjoy listening to this archaic novel.

“Why are you laughing? Read more!” Your whine came off a bit childlike, but succeeded in its goal.

“It’s getting late.” He commented with a gentle sternness, though he proceeded to reopen the book. Your peculiar attention naturally drew him to oblige your desires. Even in the midst of a storm, even as the hours slipped by and the evening had been born, he continued to read.

You settled back into your chair in rejoice that you’d get to spend a bit more time with Jungkook. He was practically a stranger, and still there was a climate of comfort and intimacy that took the place of the crisp, winter air when he read from his book. He felt it too, and that was reason enough to allow you this company.

Throughout the chapter he had been working to finish, he snuck glances to find your eyes growing heavy with sleep as each page turned. Jungkook halted from reading and was trapped in the flush of your cheeks and lips and how your mouth hung slightly ajar as you inhaled the cold, wet air of the lighthouse. The puffs of breath that billowed from your lips had him yearning to know a warmth so full with life and curiosity.

“Are-” Jungkook tensed at the idea of disturbing your sleep, as if you hadn’t barged into his life without a hint of permission. “Are you asleep?”

Your head lifted slowly, then held stiff to maintain consciousness, “I was just resting my eyes. I’m not tired, I want you to read more.” You said this in spite of knowing you would drift asleep if he did.

“I think we are done reading for now.” The book closed for the last time, his hands pressing against the cover to seal his assurance. “You should head home.”

“But, I don’t know how the book ends.” This weak argument came from a place of jaded desperation. Regardless, he almost fell victim to your subdued urgency but any sensibility he could garner warned him not to allow this. You were quite obviously tired and he prefered you be safe in your own bed before the night advanced.

“Well, that’s because I only just started this book and it is very, very long.” Jungkook hoped this would usher you out even if that meant the return of loneliness would seep between the pillows of the right armchair after you left him with his solitude.

“Well, I won’t be able to get these questions out of my mind unless I finish the book.” Another weak argument drained from your inventory of excuses. Maybe a change of subject would present an opportunity to linger in his company. “Also, why do you live here all alone?”

“I just do. I feel like I don’t have to explain this to you.” Jungkook was bewildered at his admission to give you, an unannounced and uninvited visitor, any explanations and still he was close to doing exactly that. “You’re quite invested in my personal life.” As much as that was true, his withdrawal from your curiosity wasn't all that effortful. Living in secrecy and desolation had the feeling of companionship nearly vanishing from his memory and you reunited him with that warmth. And, he had not realized how it had nearly been forgotten or how much he missed it until he finally felt it again.

“You seem like someone who has better things to attend to.” The lament that stained his words bore such heartache that was soon displaced in your chest.

“No, no. My life is boring, and I don’t know. What person wouldn’t be interested in the personal life of a hermit who lives in a lighthouse?” You stood and paced around the platform towering over the swirling bookshelves below, towering over what felt like the entire world with Jungkook. The end of the blanket trailed your footstep as your drooping eyes skimmed the multicolored novels which were remarkably arranged alphabetically by author. How he had the time or patience to organize the hundreds of books he owned was beyond your comprehension. Every detail you acquired from Jungkook was stored in a compartment of your heart, almost as if it were assigned by fate. They were told in riddles and secrets and everything else meant to be deciphered.

“Not a hermit, and not a lighthouse. I couldn’t imagine someone like you being bored with your life.” His voice had become welcoming, with a hint of genuine interest, and this transition felt imminent ever since you first introduced yourself. The tilt of your head signified your agreement with his last statement and implied there was something that bothered you about this truth.

“Someone like me?”

“Someone like you. Curious, young with your whole life ahead of you. It's hard to believe you should be bored with that.”

“You say that as if you aren't the same age as me.” Jungkook shrugged lazily and scuffed his shoes against the rug as he now stood against the window sill, observing your interest of his books.

“I shouldn’t be a lot of things, and yet I am all those things. Bored, curious, and I’m here talking to a complete stranger that totally has the capability to murder me like in those movies instead of going back home.” Your comment that snuck out had wrested a soft chuckle from Jungkook. They were absentmindedly thrown into the air that filled the space between you and him, nurturing his reciprocated fascination with you. Your diligent grazing of each book had distracted how the weight of your eyelids heavied by the minute.

“It’s not like I don’t have great people in my life or a quality education that takes up most of my time, I just,” Your brief pause was to turn your attention over to Jungkook, who did not hide how he was listening intently to these confessions, alleviating from a place in need of emptying. His eyebrow was arched in a manner that jolted you back to your senses. You’d revealed one too many privacies to someone who you had been acquainted with only hours ago. Mortification would have bathed your body if not for the way Jungkook seemed to strongly engage with your openness.

“You just?” He staged his interest overtly to correct the imbalance of how your genuinity left you hanging lower than him on the emotional scale. Jungkook believed that was the least he could do to mitigate the embarrassment about to silence you.

“Uh, I just never seem to be satisfied with what I have. And that makes me seem like a greedy, spoiled child which makes me even more frustrated with myself.” You admitted, pulling the blanket over your shoulders tighter as if that would shield you from the compromising guilt slithering out of your body. “And that’s how I see myself. Ungrateful and spoiled.” This certainly scraped the barrel of your deep rooted disgust with yourself.

“Not spoiled, just lost.” His response felt like a soft and thoughtful embrace, granted that this was meant to ease the tinge of reproach in your heart. The words he spoke caressed your cheeks and told you that every horrid thing you thought of yourself was flawed.

“I’ve certainly been in your position.” He euphemized what he really wanted to say to you, that he saw himself in you. Even though you spoke very little on this, he felt himself living every experience you alluded to as if he had been right beside you your whole life. Or rather that you had witnessed his life and suffered identical desires and grievances and adversities and were simply retelling his story down to the most intricate detail; and somehow you made it sound brand new and a thousand times more aching. He was stranded in a state of amazement, ambushed by your pain and how even in moments of emotional destitution, you were unquestionably beautiful.

Likewise, this stranger, who was no longer estranged, and his kind words nearly compensated for the billions of people you could never meet, all the dreams you wanted but could never alter into incarnation, and all the disappointments that plagued your heart.

And you felt held by his words, his voice, him.

“You’ve been in my position?” You requested confirmation.

“I was. Certainly.” And he confirmed.

“Where are you now?” In turn, you wanted this to suggest, ‘where can I find you?’

This question carried profound sentiment on both the giving and receiving end of it. To you, this yearned for advice. Any piece of wisdom would gladly, gratefully be accepted to ease this rampage of constant dissatisfaction. To him, it resurfaced a series of speculations long undisturbed until you had asked this question; a place intentionally void of all attention because it was sometimes too grim to remember. A haze of difficulty crowded a definite answer, though he knew there was one. He couldn’t place his finger on a fitting response and found himself next to you in search of the answer.

Where are you now?

This haunted his mind for a bit, leaving him speechless and albeit impressed, for once, by your curiosity.

“It’s hard to say. Somewhere in between, I suppose.” Whatever meaning this carried did not resonate as sound to you. The mere idea of being on the end of perpetual longing, waiting for a clear path to the end that promised fulfillment, made it implausible to settle on being somewhere in between the two. Again, you were left unsatisfied and feeling a burden placing itself on your shoulders and wallowing a fit of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook noticed how your eyes fell from his, down to the maroon accents of the rug, and felt out of place. Out of place, in his own lighthouse, all because your gaze and attention he’d grown used to in this short time wasn’t directed at him.

“That’s the kind of ambiguity that leaves me so hungry.” He nodded in agreeance with the twisted cruelty of his response you had pointed out. Jungkook didn’t know how or why he’d come to turn every corner and check each crevasse to find what could settle your appetite. This whole time, though, he sailed through this painstaking search without a trace of uncertainty. His illusion of disinterest and annoyance soon dissolved into the floor that your eyes hadn’t strayed from.

“Maybe if I lived in a quaint, not-lighthouse I would be satisfied with that answer, but I don’t. I live a normal, normal, normal life.” The repetition of your words stressed your fatigue of this dullness, your desire for everything just inches away from your fingertips.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a normal life. I think it’s wrong that we have put the idea of drama and excitement on a pedestal.” This outlook, unlike the last, did gain traction in stripping the thick ambiguity around Jungkook’s mind. To your surprise, you could be satisfied with the small pieces of this man’s mystery being chipped bit by bit.

He was well aware of his deep rooted appreciation that accompanied your eyes as it moved towards him once again. There was some sense of purposefulness in this glance that demoted his callousness to tender captivation.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“I have a hard time believing you only have one more question.” His doubtfulness didn’t seem to discourage you, or him.

“For real! Only one more, it’s important.” The only way to prove whether or not this question was truly important was for you to ask it. His head nodded his approval.

“What do you think makes us human?” Before he could answer, a swell of perplexity had overtaken his thoughts on this. You could tell, out of everyone, Jungkook would have a profound answer that could save you hours of contemplation over your philosophy essay’s prompt.

“That’s an interesting question.”

“An interesting question in need of an answer.” You prodded him for his response, though this was pointless if there was no response that could possibly be constructed. Not a response of reason that you seemed to require, but of feeling. Like an instinct, and that in itself made it inapplicable to this question.

“Ask me again some other time. I don’t know if the answer is that simple.”

But, of course, it was. The answer, in his eyes, was blindingly clear.

“I’ll hold you to that!” He gladly took accountability for that commitment. An unfamiliar contentment with the unknown had lodged in your chest when the promise of spending time together emerged through the once conditional circumstances. The promise that transformed those conditional circumstances to voluntary acts.

This humbling discovery left a wide grin on your face, beaming directly towards Jungkook.

Jungkook peered over to the antique clock placed on a shelf next to the window. The aversion of his eyes was to save face from how your soft smile that projected praise and attachment had effectively unnerved him; he stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his fingers that twitched out of pure elation.

The hour hand stationed on the twelve carved in roman numerals verified how his company had erased any discern for the hours that passed. They had floated away so silently, slowly that you could have sworn time froze altogether.

“Oh shit, it’s midnight? Fuck me.” The decibels of your voice boomed against the walls, it could have shaken the stacks of books down to a pile of mess. “I’m sorry, shit. I didn’t even realize it was so late.” You unraveled yourself from the blanket and collected your belongings in a bit of a frenzy.

“It’s alright. I, um, I had a nice time.” He distanced himself from you swiftly as you dashed across the room to the edge of the stairs. Even in a hurried state, you still looked back to him and offered a smile, unsure if that was enough to suffice for a proper gesture of gratitude.

“Me too.” The words were close to inaudible, but you knew he heard them loud and clear, along with the string of implications that were laced in them.

“Oh and by the way, make good use of that umbrella. It looks like it could start raining again.” Your ears felt engorged with flames when he’d revealed his knowledge of your little secret. It was foolish of you to believe you could outsmart Jungkook because what you thought obscure was well within his range of astuteness and the umbrella, still damp from the rain, was apparent from the beginning.

You didn’t catch how he’d been smiling when you turned away bashfully, strutting down the stairs in an attempt to portray false confidence. But if you did, you would have picked up on his mutual indulgence in your visit, the absolute bliss laden in his eyes. You grasped tightly to the joy evoked from the thought of seeing him again, however your nerves held a tighter grasp that did not allow you to express this to him. Perhaps your giggles of excitement, surely heard by Jungkook, spilling from your throat as you rushed out the empty room or the way you clutched your umbrella to your chest in admittance you had purposefully kept that fact from him would give Jungkook a clue of how thankful you were to meet him. And even more so to be able to see him again.

As you parted from the lighthouse that was not a lighthouse, something in between, you felt that the comfort you once had taper off with the growing distance from the not-lighthouse. You were fraught with a gentle yearning to turn back, run up the spiraling stairs, settle yourself back into the right armchair, and ask humbly to stay a while longer.

Little did you know, Jungkook’s hopes coincided with yours like two concentric circles.

(One week later)

If it wasn’t the question left unanswered that motivated you, it was the fact that you missed the view of the beach from the window. Or maybe it was the countless supply of book titles that you didn’t get to finish inspecting. Perhaps it was that you missed how the soft blanket complimented the feathery cushion of the right armchair.

Any of these excuses could be suited to explain how you rushed through the town, determined, goal-oriented and passing down streets now ingrained in your memory, with a destination clear in mind.

But it definitely couldn't be how dearly you missed the sound of his voice when he read to you or his smile or the way he studied the waves with gentle affection. No, it couldn't be that.

Either way, you arrived at the base of the lighthouse. It had been a week since your first visit and you hoped that the invitation still stood for your return. Making your way through the empty room felt quick since you hadn't wasted time to notice how the table now had a vase of flowers in the center. Nor did you notice the new mat placed in front of the interior doorway to the lighthouse.

Your heart dropped from your chest when you reached over to the door knob only to find it was locked. You turned the handle back and forth as if that would miraculously function as a key to unlock the door. After a bit of knob fiddling had proven itself useless, you turned away with a huff of air releasing your frustration.

The click and turn of the handle had you twirling around optimistically and seeing him made all that disappointment dissolve.

“You’re back again.” He was smiling at you, then cocked his head to say come in. The moment you stepped into the lighthouse, its lackluster disappeared as if by magic. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t magic at all; it was the person that hid their umbrella, and asked him to read and promised to return as much as he promised to let you return.

“I believe you promised to keep reading to me.”

“Did I?” The reasons for your return weren’t all that important to discuss, both you and him were just glad to make your way up the stairs to the two armchairs once more, hearts both racing not because of the physical exertion from the stairs but from the excitement rasping through yours and his bodies.

“Yes, but this time I won’t fall asleep.”

“We’ll see about that.” There was no question that your intense focus wasn’t because you cared about the book he had been reading. In all honesty, you would not be able to summarize any bit of the plot if someone asked. You probably would have a hard time even naming the author of the book because what sank you into the words on the pages wasn’t the story itself, but the voice that read them. Jungkook made those languid paragraphs sound like the first words ever to be spoken; he reinvented the English language through his unique dialect, inflections and phrasing that had the words of Homer dancing off the pages. So, of course there was no question that you wouldn’t be able to name any of the characters or recognize the writing style of Homer because those details faded away, leaving only the memory of his voice with you.

This time, Jungkook didn’t have to offer you a seat. He made it clear that this spot had been reserved and waiting for you by the way the blanket had been folded and worn by the arm of the chair and the new pillow resting at the base of the chair’s backrest. You planted yourself on the cushion that felt more plump than the last time you sat in it and faced towards the large window that showcased the ocean’s energetic swaying.

“I would never get tired of this view.” You commented while Jungkook pulled back the curtains further to widen the seascape. He too was drawn to the deep blue waters making their way to and from the shore.

“I usually don’t leave the windows this open, but my love for the scenery of the ocean has rekindled.” When he said this, your eyes hadn’t budged from the window unlike Jungkook’s that peered over to you. You pretended not to notice that or the way your heartbeat had taken a quickness that had your skin growing warmer.

“How could it leave in the first place?”

“It is well known, especially by you, that having an abundance of something lessens your appreciation for it.” A corner of your lips lifted at this, knowing exactly what he had been referring to. Each wave passed by and in a comatose-like state, you wondered where on the shore it would land.

“No need to call me out already, Jungkook.” He had left the window and retrieved The Odyssey that hadn’t left the side table since the night he read it to you. This broke your trance, and you shifted to face the left armchair.

“You made it too easy, ___.”

“Okay, Hermit.” Your smile did wonders to ease the irritation in Jungkook’s chest to tenderness. Though he refused to admit it, this otherwise taunting nickname sounded affectionate coming from you.

“Technically a hermit is-”

“Technically, I don’t care about your technicalities. No amount of facts will persuade me that you aren’t a Hermit.” Jungkook dug his tongue into the side of his cheek to resist from joining in with your laughter. He’d been fidgeting with the book that was waiting to be read, but neither of you seemed to mind putting that off.

“Ho- How was your day?” You shouldn’t have felt as proud as you did for making a man who could read aloud for hours stutter over his own words, and nonetheless you were extremely flattered by this.

“It was good.” Good never really meant good, and Jungkook knew this.

“And what’s the truth?” Your playing field had once again been unleveled, the advantage returned into the palm of Jungkook’s hand in the blink of an eye. His perceptiveness had been bordering on annoying but still remained on the side of impressive.

“Well,” You bunched the blanket in your fists as an expression of worry, “My mom called today.” Anyone who could hear would be able to tell you sounded unhappy about that.

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Jungkook articulated his question to get the answer he’d been looking for, finding the hostility in your voice far more interesting than the actual conversation between you and your mom.

“You don’t know my mom, but she projects her over achieving personality onto almost everyone she meets, but most of it goes onto me.” Your back had straightened when mentioning your mom, almost as if it were a reflex, like Pavlov’s dog, that you were conditioned to be on guard at the thought of her. “I don’t know why I get so mad at her when she does that because I know it comes from a place of love.”

Jungkook hummed softly, granting you space to continue talking.

“Yeah, it probably comes from a place of love but part of me doesn’t believe that. Part of me thinks every time she calls to check on me it’s really just a ploy for her to nag me on what I could be doing better.” You scoffed as the conversation from earlier in the morning played out in your head again. Envisioning the back and forth between you and your mother only fueled your frustration but you couldn’t help yourself. There was no stifling the seething anger imploding before Jungkook’s eyes. “She always says stuff like, ‘Maybe if you applied yourself more you would be doing better than this.’ or ‘I told you that you should have done this or that and now it’s too late’ or the infamous ‘Do you not care about your future?’ lecture that just gets under my skin. She’s so good at saying the wrong things at the wrong time. I don’t know how she does it but she always manages to rub dirt in the wound.”

“So, she’s never satisfied with you?” Jungkook observed.

“No, never! And you’d think a mother would be supportive or happy with all the things her child had already accomplished but somehow it’s never enough. And she knows what she’s doing. That makes it worse. She knows how she weaponizes my guilt against me.” You held your tongue from the much longer rant about to digress, feeling a sudden discomfort in the way you’d been complaining to Jungkook. You couldn’t understand why it was all too easy to talk of these kinds of things to him, why he looked so interested in what you were saying even when anyone else would have grown tired of you by now, why you found in him a warm confidant much more comforting than you’d expected, yet there was no way to dismiss this reality.

Jungkook did not offer advice, or tell you that you should be thankful or that maybe you were handling these situations poorly. He did none of that. His silence was more thoughtful than any number of things he could have said. He simply listened.

You rose from the chair to get a closer view of the sea. Past your reflection in the glass, the consecutive tides seemed to grapple over the next and the next; the previous wave always just short of reach to tackle the immediate wave. He had followed you without a word, living up to your desire to have him at your side. There was no need for mindless comments or condolences to fill the silence, only mindful amity, at your side, because watching the ocean with you was enough.

“So, that was my day.” It was the first thing spoken after a period of quiet, perfectly timed and delivered for it to bear a dry humor in its intention. Jungkook and you laughed, finding this the long needed release of tension in your head.

“Is this going to become a habitual thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Me complaining to you about my personal struggles that would have gone in my journal or somewhere far more private than this.” All said while your and Jungkook’s gazes didn’t wander from the view of the window. “Me inviting myself into your lighthouse, or not-lighthouse, whatever.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Two heads turned towards each other almost as if it were on que.

The way your pupils dilated and softened conveyed every bit of thanks you held in your heart but couldn’t muster the courage to voice. Jungkook’s doe-eyed smile thanked you likewise and confessed the gratitude for how you had rescued him from yet another lonesome afternoon with a curtained window, an unused blanket, an empty chair, and a melancholic silence as he read his one of thousands of books. Not including The Odyssey, that was for your ears only.

“You wouldn’t?”

“Maybe a little.” His tease succeeded to provoke that smile of yours. And even though that was a favor on his end, he was the one that felt graced by it. Realistically, a smile costs nothing yet there grew an enormous debt in his heart; and even though he couldn’t afford it, all he could do was bask in every detail your smile, of the crease of your eyes, and of the way your cheeks took the form of a sweet Spring Peach, and the scrunch of your nose and brows. Before he sank himself deeper in debt, Jungkook beckoned for the two of you to return to your seats and read all your worries away.

---

Who would have guessed that The Odyssey, of all things, would be the thing that would occupy most of your Fridays through the rest of the winter? Sometimes you visited a Sunday, and other times you’d find yourself needing to hear The Odyssey on a Wednesday evening or a Monday morning. The days on which you swung by the now familiar lighthouse would vary, but they remained a weekly occurrence.

Jungkook had grown comfortable with this routine, reading to you while you watched him and the waves, but mostly him. Occasionally, his reading would cease to an interruption of his own doing to ask how your day was in a very specific way that only Jungkook seemed to exhibit. He’d ask you say anything but ‘good’ or ‘boring’ and he’d clarify that he wanted you to not leave out any details.

“Why?” You would ask. And he’d look at you as if you set yourself on fire.

“It’s important to me.” He’d reply as if it were that simple, or the answer you were looking for. Still, if it was important to him you didn’t need any more persuading.

Like when you told him you stopped by a coffee shop, he’d tell you to specify which drink you ordered and how it tasted.

“Cinnamon.”

“Is that your favorite?”

“No, I prefer peppermint but sometimes I combine those flavors and that becomes my other favorite.”

“That sounds sweet.”

“It absolutely is.”

“Does that make you happy?”

“It makes my insides feel like Christmas.”

“Is Christmas a feeling?”

“It is to me!” He smiled at your childlike enthusiasm because it made life seem a lot more appealing than he’d ever believed. Before you, the world was a little greyer. After you, suddenly full of vibrance, saturated to the grandest extents.

Or the time you brought a candle to fill the air with something a bit more pleasant than the smell of the old, wet stones of the lighthouse.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a candle, vanilla and patchouli.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I don’t remember. I just found it in my house and thought this place needed something sweet.”

“But you’re here.” Your teeth bit down on your tongue when he said this. You almost fallen trapped in figuring out what motivated him to say this, but the flattery of his comment was all too pleasing to ignore.

“But I don’t smell like vanilla and patchouli.” You said, only to save face from the fact that you suddenly felt like a deer in headlights when he looked at you, bracing for when he would crash into you and hoping to god you can absorb the exhilaration of souls colliding; and hoping to god he would crash into you.

“Could you light it, then?”

“Of course.”

And the room filled with a sweetness that complimented your company finely. Now, whenever he would smell the scents of vanilla and patchouli he would think of you, and you of him.

He would continue asking these simple questions, and so on.

Why he thought it was essential for you to relay these almost invaluable intricacies was beyond you, but it did make you feel heard; it made you feel held as it always did. It made the value of your life gone without the need to be earned or proven, the value of the smaller moments that fell between bigger moments.

It made it all okay that you felt like you stripped the clothes from your whole life off for him to revere and that he’d rarely ever display such emotional nudity for you; you were okay with lying bare before his eyes, vulnerable and pliant to his every whim. Even when you wanted to know all of these things about Jungkook and he’d hold them captive or he’d only offer half sufficient answers, you collected as many bits of the puzzle as possible to try and piece together his story.

“How are your parents, Jungkook?”

“Long gone.”

“Oh, Jungkook… I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I watched them grow old and content and that softened the blow.”

“Are you lonely?”

Yes, it’s excruciating when you are not here. I am tormented in your absence and all too plagued with despondency and I wish you knew that.

“I’ve grown used to it.”

“So you have.”

“So I have.”

You did not want him to be lonely; you didn’t want him to ever be sad but you wanted him to be able to say that he was to you. You wanted him to be able to tell you he was lonely; you wanted him to want you to know his heart. You wanted him to feel as naked as you felt. Vagueness was all you could ever manage to arrest from his gated mind.

And for once, the little he had given was more than you could ever ask for.

Sunday mornings with Jungkook were your favorite. The ocean was tame during this time on Sundays specifically and sailed you into its calmness; you were half asleep, resting on the sill running along the base of the window panes. Spring had been approaching which meant there were radiant glimmers of the early sun that reflected and glided along the ripples of the waves. Jungkook once said that every time he looked at these little pieces of diamond rays, he believed the sun and the sea performed in devotion for you and him alone.

“I love that.” And indeed you did. The idea that no one else witnessed this ocean, not this one, not the way you and Jungkook had, was a greedy disposition but felt so true.

“Would you like me to read?” He said in place of, Is my voice properly fitting for something as lovely as this moment?

“I want you to talk, but not of books.” You blinked slowly at Jungkook, “Could you tell me about yourself? Just one thing, anything you choose.” He saw those specks of diamonds glimmering in your irises. He felt so close to you, sitting on the other end of the window, and close enough to finally surrender a bit of his gated mind.

“When I was a child, I knew my days were numbered. The details of why aren’t important, but I digress.” You stuffed a scoff down your throat at the assertion that the details weren’t important. Him, of all people, claiming the details were unimportant had you whirling in a paradox. “With this in mind, I did my best to fulfill everything any child would have wanted. And I don’t think I’ve ever stopped because that list of desires was never ending.”

Was this what he meant when he said he was in my position once? You wondered.

“I spent all my time looking for the next best thing I could achieve, because the best things that I had was, as you know, never enough. One week, the best thing would be finding a four leaf clover to give to my mother. The next, it was being the first in line for the new, long awaited comic book. Or, it was the time my father took me fishing on the lake, and then seconds after it was the first fish I caught and threw back into the water, and that best thing was soon replaced by my father’s proud smile.”

Your throat tightened as you visualized a young Jungkook sitting on the dock with his father, full of youth and excitement, and how nostalgia had ripened into your heart even though you had no place in this memory of his. This dream-like sequence had compelled a few tears to fill your eyes, fogging your vision of the older Jungkook that sat before you.

“When I grew older, in my adolescent and teenage years, the next best thing was fulfilling a newfound passion. It prompted me to buy out almost the entire library and major in World Literature. I spent the rest of my days from then on immersed in reading, as you can see. It was the only place I felt like I was achieving the next best thing, and it was cruel when I came to realize there was no way in hell I could finish all the books I’d collected in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time... for the next best thing to come along, I guess.” This answer appeared fabricated, but was subtle enough to pass through your mind without a second thought.

“And did it? Did it come along?”

It would have made no difference if your question had been asked to a brick wall because Jungkook brushed it off as he did every other question that would have given you another piece of his puzzle. He took precautions to avoid a defeat to your pouting by walking over to the left armchair and burying his face in the book’s fortitude. Before you had the chance to reiterate your question, Jungkook began to read, making it all too clear he was evading.

“Jungkook?” You whined to which he paid no mind by continuing to read.

“Is he being serious right now?” Again, you might as well have been talking to an inanimate object. There was nothing to be done when he lodged his restraint other than joining him in your armchair, quietly, permissively.

Every day, like this one, spent with him had you convinced it couldn’t be surpassed in enjoyment. And every day, your expectations had been exceeded. That was something you’d never think could happen. Soon, the cares and worries of this Winter melted as the avenue of Spring had unfolded before you. A long path, surrounded with flower blossoms and diamond coated seas, or in other words, the unfathomable had fallen into your hands.

The remainder of this pleasant Sunday had been consumed by The Odyssey and Jungkook’s voice singing its words as smoothly as the waves surrounding the lighthouse and small conversations during the pauses of his reading. One struck you into reminiscence of the first night you met.

“You never answered my question.” He paused, flipping through the many unanswered questions he’d left with you. Jungkook raised his brow to order specification of which one you referred to.

“What makes us human?” The due date of your essay passed over two months ago, however this didn’t diminish your curiosity to know his answer.

“In all honesty,” He paused and looked to assure you would believe his answer would be honest, or honest enough to cater your satisfaction. “I think it’s our desire to achieve the last best thing.”

Every fiber in you compiled its own list of questions in regards to his yet again ambiguous answer, though you had grown to accept that as a part of Jungkook. And you sure as hell accepted Jungkook, ambiguity and all.

“Hm.” It didn’t take a mind reader to know you had theorized any and all connotations branching off from his answer and he didn’t mind that you could be lost in search of whatever the actual meaning of it was.

The moon was in its fullest bloom tonight, and tomorrow, it would begin to wane into a crescent then into nothing but an empty space full of new and perhaps fortunate opportunities. Jungkook found the romance of this lunar phase well equipped for the dusty instrument he discovered in the base of the lighthouse.

“I found something that I think you’d like.” Your ears perked like a dog when it’d been presented with treats. “But you have to go get it. It’s in the other room.”

Whatever this surprise was, it had excited you enough to ignore how you’d have to descend and re-ascend the many stairs that would surely tire you. Your eager legs would have jumped right from the platform to the bottom of the lighthouse if the reality didn’t result in broken bones. As you rushed to the door to the other room, you pushed through and discovered a telescope standing in the corner of the otherwise empty space. A few moments later you were hustling back up the stairs, the telescope making the re-ascension of the stairs ten times as strenuous. All the while, Jungkook just stared in amusement at the way you struggled your way to the platform.

“No, I don’t want any help, thank you!” You said sarcastically through grunts of exertion before positioning the instrument in front of the window.

“Well, I didn’t offer you any, so, you’re very welcome.” He stood on the other side of the telescope, admiring the way you fell so easily in love with it, hands scaling the length of the scope.

“Do I just?” You pointed to the eyepiece at the end of the rod and he nodded. You brought your eye to the magnifying glass which was flooded with the enchanting glow of the stars. You’d never seen them this close, but this little gift of Jungkook’s had catapulted you into the illuminated abyss of the night sky. A measly woah was all that squeaked from your voice, because all the other words were stolen by the stars.

“Can you find any constellations?” He’d seen all the stars in the galaxy; that he was sure of. But none had shone brighter than the person he couldn’t tear his eyes from. Three o’clock had crept onto the antique clock, this late hour had worn down Jungkook’s walls completely as the soft glow of adornment laminated his eyes.

“I think I see ORion's belt. That’s the only one I know other than the Big Dipper.” You laughed at your own lack of knowledge of the stars. Knowledge didn’t seem to matter though, the beauty of the stardusted sky had taken care of that deficiency. You lifted yourself away from the telescope, allowing Jungkook a turn to stargaze.

“Have you heard of the Astral Plane?” Jungkook asking you something other than, ‘how was your day’, was a rare occurrence which most likely meant this was of some importance.

“I’ve heard of it, but I think I’ll need you to refresh my memory.” You really did need clarification on what exactly the Astral Plane entailed, though you mainly just wanted to hear him explain it.

“Some say it lies in the fourth dimension. It isn’t tangible or something that can be touched. It lies between everything, every atom, every cell, every city and forest and mountain and even between the crevasses of one’s own mind and soul. A place like this is full of divinity and complete attainment and the way it is reached has been theorized by many.” Jungkook’s meticulous readjustments of the telescope had you wondering which constellations he was searching for, or maybe he’d been looking for Venus or Mars or the Moon. “Some say you arrive there in your dreams, or when you reach enlightenment, or when death draws its curtain on you… I-I don't know why but I’ve always thought that it was stitched into the sky. Far beyond our galaxy, maybe the Astral Plane has situated itself in between each star, just like it does our souls, and exists as the vastness of outer space.” It turned out he wasn't looking for any of those things, he was looking for the Astral Plane.

Could the heat rising throughout your body be merely adoration, or was it something along the lines of a forlorn longing? When he spoke, you felt this sensation growing dense in your bones; you felt a gravitation towards him.

“Seems about right to me.” Fondness had stained your tone which filled some void in Jungkook’s hungry heart, and he’d failed to predict you were the one that would be able to settle it. “Maybe we’ll never reach the Astral Plane, but at least I’m here with you.”

When you said this, the hairs on his arms pointed towards the ceiling. For once in a very, very long time, Jungkook felt a euphoric resurgence striking through the catacombs of his soul and hot tears dripping down the expanse of his cheeks, to the tip of his chin, and onto the glass scope that was shielding this sudden emotional combustion. He blinked away the tears to the best of his abilities and turned away from you and the telescope and the sky. Jungkook felt the push of air from your movement towards him, but he shifted further away.

“Are yo-”

“I found a cluster of stardust, go look.” He averted you from him and you always fell victim to every trick in his book.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” The grip you had on the telescope was firm, like you were trying to hold onto the stars themselves.

“Amazing.” He said. This reiteration wasn’t for the stars, however. He wondered if you knew that. He wondered if you could feel how consumed he was by your magnificence under the full moon that reigned with gentleness over the waves. The once wild tides, now moving with the same serenity and romance embedded into Jungkook and this lighthouse. He wondered if you could see he had been emotionally disrobed and bearing all his affection for you. And he wondered how he was so okay with that.

Six o’clock didn’t feel like six o’clock. Your eyes that struggled to keep open told you otherwise, so again you and him were parting ways as the sun had begun dawning over the horizon and there were no more stars to fill the hours slipping away. Jungkook did all he could to compose himself. He’d offered to walk you out; you reached the door that led to the dewy, Spring air awaiting your departure from the lighthouse.

“Wait, ___!” This exclamation echoed louder than the beating of his crimson heart. After stepping through the threshold, you turned to meet his gaze, teary-eyed from what you guessed was from lack of sleep. Teary-eyed from what he knew was because of another egregious goodbye. “Thank you.”

This moment seemed fitting to test the theory that actions speak louder than words. This moment called for the lapse of courage in need to act, not speak. This moment was the moment when you finally expressed the thankfulness that, to you, seemed to outweigh his by pressing a tender kiss to his cheek. It was much colder than your lips and the docile warmth of the morning, but once you pulled away the warmth had stained his cheek.

Jungkook felt like every cell in his body was evaporating into the space around him. Like the way a fire would extend its heat into the air or the way Spring melted away the frost ridden Winter, your act had covered him in a blanket of love and refuge from the loneliness once vaulting his heart. And it certainly spoke louder than words; all the words in every book Jungkook had ever read and the words left unsaid and the words passing between everyone in the universe.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Hermit! You helped me see Orion’s Belt up close and personal!” You called as your strides began a slow fleet from a laughing Jungkook. You waved, now standing a generous distance from him, and he found this gave him the space needed to finally let his tears fall.

“I love you.” He whispered, hoping the wind would carry it to your ears and heart.

A revelation had overcome him, and no matter how many times he tried to wipe the tears away, they’d be instantly replenished like a stream of water rushing from a conquered dam, spilling over endlessly, with all control suspended in the air around him.

Was it finally here? The last, best thing?

---

A week after the stargazing, your mind had mapped out the stars as you too searched for that Astral Plane. To you, Jungkook’s proposition of it being strewn in the night sky was the only theoretical that made sense. You wanted to flaunt your newfound passion for this concept he’d introduced, and admittedly - and more importantly - you wanted to kiss him again, leading to yet another blissful walk down the seashore to the lighthouse. The air was warm but not humid, carrying a breeze that evened out the sun’s heat nicely. A few pillows of clouds were cascading through the sky, never staying in one spot for too long; you’d come to appreciate each one’s temporary presence and when they passed, you grew to appreciate that as well. The gaze once fixed on the sand had now traveled to the waves of much gentler motion than ever before.

This walk, unlike the dozens of others, felt different. The streets looked lovely and the air felt clean in your chest, giving you a pleasant journey far more intimate than the last. Then you realized, it felt like you were walking back home.

When you grew closer to the lighthouse, you noticed the curtains had been drawn which was strikingly unusual for a sunny day such as this one. This was a passing observation as you made your way to the base of the lighthouse.

Through the door to the room before the lighthouse, you were taken aback to find your armchair sitting in front of the table. you walked up to discover a single, folded parchment sealed with a red wax stamp labeled with your name along the top of the paper.

This felt eerie, for some reason, and you called out his name only to be met with silence, before sitting yourself down and unsealing the note.

It read in his voice:

My Dearest, ___

I wrote this to relay a lot of things left unsaid. The first being goodbye. I’m sorry to have to leave you like this, though no amount of remorse could possibly appease my actions.

Your heartbeat had grown rampant, until your eyes read those words. It was then when it stopped altogether. Still, you continued to read.

I kept things from you like the fact that our encounter in the town’s square was all but coincidental. The truth is scary, and my truth would have turned you away from the beginning. It was selfish, I admit, but I do not think I could have endured such a loss. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark all this time, but I am beyond gratified for what you granted me in spite of that.

Maybe it might seem cruel. You are not alone in feeling that — never alone. But, we were never meant to spend every Sunday morning, or Friday evening, or Wednesday afternoon together to watch the waves float along with the hours lost reading to you; I knew this was not the end of your story, just mine.

The books I have read over and over have imprisoned me in search of the “next best thing”. To my dismay, I thought I had run out of time to find it. But then you came along. You helped set me free by allowing me to live out a few more “best things” through the way you shared your life with me, unselfishly, warmly, kindly— You helped me move on.

I know you too will move on from this. I hope I could at least leave you with the tools and courage to find each “next best thing” in store. If not that, then this lighthouse, open to you and only you, and a myriad of good memories to ease our parting. I know in my heart you deserve nothing less.

I hope you find contentment somewhere in the sea or on the sand or in the stars, or perhaps somewhere in between.

Once you do, we will meet again within the Astral Plane, my love. I swear it. And if you miss me, just look through the telescope and find me woven in the spaces amidst Orion’s Belt.

Thank you. Again and again I thank you and it is still not enough. Thank you for you, for your warmth, for your salvation, for your smile, for your endless questions, for re-introducing me to the aroma of vanilla and patchouli but it was not as sweet as your companionship, for putting good use of the right armchair and the view from our window, for making the odyssey a little less lonely to read, and thank you for stepping into my lighthouse and my life.

Don't you see, it was you. You were my last, best thing.

with love and sorrow,

Jeon Jungkook

Before you got to the end of the letter, you were racing up the spiraling stairs, ignoring the burn in your tightened chest, how the air in the lighthouse had suffocated your lungs. The dizziness that blurred your eyes had not slowed your climb up the stairs, and the wetness of your tears now seeping into his letter.

You reached the top, The Odyssey greeting you on the chair Jungkook would have been seated in. Your breaths were staggered and warm, filling the mournful emptiness of the lighthouse.

“Jungkook.” You whispered. You begged for a reply. The curtains were drawn over the window, like never before, and exposed a bronze plaque peeking out from the end of the fabric. You pushed the drapes aside to read what was engraved into the metal plate and the first page of The Odyssey that hung below it.

In loving memory of our beloved son, Jeon Jungkook. May he rest in peace. 1918-1942.

The note below read:

The Odyssey

Jeon and ___ Lighthouse.

You pieced the puzzle together, finally. And with that, came the final picture, so beautiful and mesmerizing and everything you could have ever hoped for, and more.

“Jungkook.” You repeated as a bid of farewell, with a heart full of satisfaction and content, and Jungkook. You pressed the letter to your chest in hopes his words would mend your aching heart.

And it was true, he was not your last best thing, only one of them.

But he was undoubtedly your most cherished and beloved best thing.

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