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mjolnir-steve · 3 years ago

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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jillianallen14 · 3 years ago

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Spirk fanfic rec

Some amazing Spirk fanfic to bless your dash because I’m falling in love with this shit all over again (this is like the 10th time this has happened lol):

Entering Orbit: Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch; rated m; 30,957 words

Papers in the Roadside: Non-Starfleet AU. Jim owns a small bar in Chicago, keeps on picking up strays and taking care of everyone no matter how hard it makes his own life. Spock is a journalist writing feature articles for the Chicago Tribune; he depicts the world with uncanny skill, but hides more than one personal drama and is possibly under surveillance from the Vulcan royal family. They meet by accident just before their lives start to spin out of control; rated e; 49,637 words

Take Refuge in What You Know: AU - Kirk has moved into a apartment/house and wants to get to know his neighbors. He meets his neighbor Spock, a loner who suffers from extreme agoraphobia. Kirk thinks he's beautiful enigma; rated e; 120,334 words

Listen, this is not only my favorite Star Trek fic of all time, it’s also one of my favorite fanfics in general. It’s right up there with Text Talk and The Shoebox Project from the HP fandom, which if you’ve read, you know are incredible and frankly life-changing. And this fanfic changed my life. The description the author gives doesn’t do the beauty of this fic justice. I suffer from agoraphobia and Spock’s depiction as an agoraphobic man was probably the most well-researched, sympathetic, empathetic, caring, realistic portrayal of what it’s like to be agoraphobic that I’ve ever witnessed in fiction. It made me cry like a child because I had never felt so seen and understood. This writer is incredible, and this fic is incredible. I can’t recommend it enough. It’s an AU, which I’m usually pretty wary about, but it barely even feels like an AU. It just feels like Jim and Spock. The author’s understanding of both of their characters’ is perfect, like just a spot-on portrayal of who they are. This fic genuinely helped me accept who I am and helped me understand that I am capable of & deserving of love. If you don’t read any other Star Trek fics (and you def should read more Star Trek fics because they’re amazing), then let this one be the one you read. I dare you not to read it three times in a row like I did.

Observations: First Officer Spock comments on life aboard the Enterprise and his service under Captain James T. Kirk; rated m; 500,000+ words.

So the author of this fic actually did a thing where they made this fic into two books (similar to what The Shoebox Project authors did many years ago in the HP fandom). They don’t get any money from people buying the books; the cost is just to go towards producing the books. This fic is the equivalent of two LARGE novels. We’re talking 600 pages & up. It’s a huge fic. Now, that being said, I read it in one day. ONE DAY. It’s that good. This is another one of my all-time favorite fics, though not quite as dear to my heart as the one I listed above. It’s focused on AOS, and tbh, I forget that what happens in this book isn’t actually canon. Like it’s so well-told, it just feels like it’s now part of the timeless story of Kirk & Spock. The “professional” Star Trek writers would never be brave enough to do what this author does with Kirk and Spock, though. This fic will make you angry, will make you laugh, will make you cry. It has such a good grasp on every single character. It also shows the love between the crew of the Enterprise, which is always a treat, and it’s beautifully done in this fic. It has a sorta-enemies-to-lovers arc between Spirk and an enemies-to-close-friends arc between Spock and McCoy that is beautifully done and fleshed out. This fic is definitely a journey to go through, and I can’t recommend it enough. It’s extremely slow burn, and you will want to slap both Kirk and Spock (and McCoy) upside the head at certain points lol.

Of Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves: The progression of a relationship, through Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves. Basically, it’s an AU where Kirk works at a coffee shop to pay his way through school, and Spock visits often. rated t; 16,429 words

Love, love, love, this fic. It’s cute, it’s in character. They have kind of a rocky start together, so it’s got a little bit of that Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy i-hated-you-but-now-i-love-you-marry-me vibes to it. I’m a sucker for that, if you haven’t figured that out by now lol. It’s really good, and a really enjoyable read. And it’s not too long, if you’re in the mood for something on the shorter end of things.

Please Don’t Touch the Vulcans: The "yes" is out of Jim's mouth before he can think about it. Jim is chipper about having time off for the holidays. He asks everyone if they want to spend time together but sadly, everyone ditches Jim over the holidays because they have plans. McCoy visits his daughter, Nyota visits her family, and everyone splits. Not knowing Spock has feelings for him, Jim doesn't even bother asking if he wants to spend time together figuring he has something to do. Something cute, romantic with the boys spending time with one another and confessions; rated m; 17,690 words

Super cute and has lots of Sarek, which idk about y’all, but I’m always a fan of. Sarek and Jim kind of get to know each other a bit, and it’s cute. Sarek knows about they’re in love before Spock & Kirk know lol. If I remember correctly, there’s also some appearances from everyone’s favorite: Old!Spock! You also get a little bit of jealous and protective Young!Spock. So you’re in for a real treat with this one.

The Ren shat’var Trilogy: A split-second decision changes Jim's life forever, as he enters into a bond with Spock in the face of certain torture. Enemies to the Federation emerge from unlikely places, and the command team must contend with unexpected threats, as well as challenges within their own intense relationship. In this three-part series, the Enterprise races across the galaxy to confront the unknown, and Jim and Spock discover the true significance of their unprecedented connection; rated e; 184,411 words

Textual Attraction: Valentine’s Day does not bring up pleasant memories for Cadet Kirk. But the serendipitous switch-up of his cell phone with a particular Vulcan professor’s will make his day far more interesting –and romantic. Perhaps some new memories can be made! 15,900 words

SO GOOD. Just SO good

Spaceman: Academy AU. Five times Spock realizes he's attracted to a barista at the academy spaceport, and one time he decides to do something about it. rated t; 3728 words

Short, sweet, funny. You’ll love it.

Subtext: Texting your Vulcan first officer in the middle of the night is never a good idea. Especially when you have an obsessive crush on said Vulcan.The holidays are approaching and Jim is left entirely Spockless aboard the Enterprise when his First takes shore leave on New Vulcan. After some midnight pining, Jim sends a text he instantly regrets. That is, until Spock responds and willingly continues their textual communications to an inevitable conclusion; rated t; 13,032 words

Cute, sweet, funny. It’s a texting fic. I think you’ve probably figured out I love those. This one makes me laugh so fucking hard. Like actually laugh-out-loud-omg-did-i-just-snort kind of funny. Spock is great in this one

All Spock Wants For Christmas: While Jim is away on a delegation mission, he panics about what to give Spock for Christmas. With help from Bones and Uhura, and in between some spam texting with Spock, Jim realizes he already has the perfect gift. And all it needs is wrapping paper and a bow; rated t; 11,966 words

And here we have another cute, sweet, funny texting fic. Sue me lol

The Morning After: Jim convinces Spock to take shore leave with him on Risa, hoping the time together will help re-solidify their bond of friendship after some recent tension. Meanwhile, Spock convinces himself he's on Risa for one reason and one reason only, to prevent his wayward captain from getting into trouble. After a passionately illogical night of Romulan Ale and chocolate infused liquor, everything changes when Jim wakes with something other than a hangover filling his head. Something he's sure neither he nor Spock can handle. Because if Jim knows anything for sure, it's that his messed up thoughts belong nowhere near Spock's clean, ordered mind; rated m; 50,381 words

HAHA. This fic fucking cracks me up. You’ve got drunk boys pining over each other & not realizing it. You’ve got accidental marriage. You’ve got bed sharing. It’s great, it’s cute, it’s funny.

Take This Sinking Boat (And Point It Home): In which Spock pines, Jim isn’t stupid (except he kind of is), and Christopher Pike has had enough of this bullshit; 6698 words

Pike is great in this one, and it’s super, super funny.

Extracurricular Activities: Spock returns to the Academy from a tour of duty to find an intriguing cadet captures his attention; rated e; 15,433 words

Veritas: Basically, Kirk and Spock are on trial because the Federation thinks they are emotionally compromised by each other, which is putting the lives of their crew in danger. They have to convince a court they’re not actually in love with each other. They think the claims are bullshit. They think it will be easy to prove that they aren’t in love or emotionally compromised, damn it. It isn’t; rated m; 186,80 words

This one is so, so good. A real gem off of Fanfic.net. I remember it was actually one of the first Spirk fanfics I ever read, and it blew me away. The progression of their relationship is really well-done and interesting. It has star-crossed lovers vibes and has some really emotionally intense moments in it, especially for Spock.

A Habitual Affection: Living in 1930s New York with the Vulcan you're secretly in love with is no simple thing. But Jim never liked anything simple. And then, the big snowstorm hit...; rated t; 7998 words

A beautiful TOS fic about one of the gayest episodes of Star Trek. Love this one.

Atlas: Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning; rated t; 135,529 words

A beaut. Really great characterization, and the progression of Jim and Spock’s relationship is really well-done.

#spirk #spock #kirk #james t kirk #spock/kirk #kirk/spock #star trek #star trek tos #star trek aos #space husbands #spirk fanfic recs #spirk fanfic

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poisonmaximoff · 3 years ago

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BELATED FATE (Elizabeth Olsen x FemReader).

The whole story: here.

Chapter 3. A day together

Y/n's POV:

Madison gave me several ideas, and I still struggled to choose a perfect one, when I heard a notification.

"Did you decide where should we go? ;)" Elizabeth's message popped up on the screen.

"no, i'm still trying to pick a perfect option :(" I immediately responded.

"Cute :D You can relax your brain now, I know what I'd love to visit. How about this new water park, that's not far from Disneyland? Only if you can swim, of course. I don't want you to drown ;)"

Water park. Great. With my freaking fear of heights and inability to go further than waist deep into water. "aww you're worried about me ^^ sounds amazing!" I text her back cursing myself for not being able to say no to her.

"I just have nothing to wear to your funeral. Okay, then I'll send you location a little later and I'll be waiting for you there on Saturday at 11 am. See you, Y/n"

"ok, see you too"

Shit. I have two days to convince myself that everything will be fine, so I don't accidentally get a panic attack right there. Oh, and now I need to buy a new bikini too, but that's what I can handle for sure.

Time has flown by almost imperceptibly. It's already 10 am on a Saturday morning, and as usual I'm getting my stuff in a hurry. Thank God I didn't oversleep at least. I gathered all the necessary things in my backpack and put on my new black bikini, which by sheer chance turned out to be quite revealing. I'd love to go straight in it, but unfortunately I have no desire to end up in the police station, so I put on a black t-shirt with regular shorts over it and leave my apartment.

I barely made it there in time. I immediately recognized the familiar woman waving to me while approaching the main gate.

"Hi, Y/n" She said in her usual a bit raspy voice and smiled at me.

"Good morning, Elizabeth. To be honest, your choice is a little unexpected for me, you know" I smiled back at her once again admiring her features. She isn't wearing any makeup now and still looks stunning.

"Well, these are pretty hot days, so water park is a perfect solution, don't you think? And please call me Lizzie, Y/n." She said with a soft expression.

"But that's how everyone calls you!"

"Yes, exactly, that's why you can call me that too"

"It's no fun, I don't wanna be like everyone else. Can I call you El?" I asked with a puppy eyes, having no idea how she'd react to this.

"You're so weird" she said slightly furrowing brows for couple of seconds, but without removing the smile from her face. "Okay, call me whatever you want and let's go."

I was genuinely glad that she didn't mind me calling her El, even though I don't understand why I wanted to be different from the others. What a typical pick me.

Half an hour later we were already lying on our sun loungers, enjoying a wonderful weather. I felt her eyes on me, so I slowly turned my head in her direction. Meeting her green eyes that were staring at me intently, I couldn't help but ask her what's so interesting about me. She chuckled without any embarrassment from being caught. "I'm just hypnotizing you, so that you could finally go with me to the water slides." That was an unbelievably smooth and kind of funny response. And how can I refuse her after that?

"Alright, alright, let's go." I get up from my sun lounger and start to run my eyes over all the slides in the water park, choosing the least dangerous one. I turn around, so I can tell her where we're going and see her eyes instantly go up, obviously being on my ass before that.

"Staring is rude, ma'am." I say with a smirk, although in fact this little detail gives me butterflies in my stomach. Or maybe it was just a coincidence I think, but seeing her cheeks covered in slight blush convinces me of the opposite.

Ignoring my last sentence, she points to a huge winding waterslide. "I want the big one." She says as she watches my expression drastically change from a confident to a shocked one. I stare wide-eyed at it, and then at her. I can't believe she's going to make me do it. Of course I can say that I'm literally terrified, but then she'll definitely think that I'm a coward. We can't have that.

"Are you okay, honey? We can just swim in the pool, if you're afraid." She asked in a fake sweet tone, which made me want to prove her wrong even more.

"I'm not a child, c'mon, let's go."

Elizabeth just smiled and shook her head before following me. As soon as we got to the top of the slide, I immediately regretted not saying to her that I was actually scared. I was afraid to even look down, so as not to accidentally provoke a panic attack. I was literally amazed that El is absolutely calm and she obviously feels comfortable here.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked me noticing my puzzled expression.

I didn't have time to answer, as we heard a young guy's voice, who was going to instruct us. Well, at least we have to go down the water slide together instead of going separately, which I definitely wouldn't able to handle. I sat in front of her, and she sat behind me, carefully placing her feet on my legs.

"Is that okay? It's just more comfortable that way."

"Yes, s-sure" I answered a little haltingly, not entirely certain if it was because of the upcoming descent, or because of the close contact with her body.

"Are you ready, ladies?" We heard a loud voice from a guy behind us.

"YES"

"NO" We shouted at the same time and the guy immediately pushed us, laughing at my crazy screaming.

To say that it was the worst experience of my life would be an understatement. Those miserable thitry seconds seemed like an eternity to me, and when we got to the end of the slide, we just fell at full speed into the pool. I literally couldn't stop screaming so I didn't close my mouth and disgusting pool water filled my mouth.

When I emerged from the water, I found Elizabeth laughing so loudly that people turned to look at us.

"What the hell is so funny about that?" I asked indignantly, spitting out water and trying to catch my breath, not understanding if she's laughing at the way I fell or at my frightened face. Without waiting for an answer, I turn around and start swimming towards the stairs in order to finally get out of the pool.

She immediately follows me trying to turn me around, but I'm moving really fast not wanting to look her in the eyes. "Hey, Y/n, please wait, I didn't mean to offend you in any way, you just had a funny expression on your face. I'm sorry, I won't laugh at you anymore, if it offends you!"

I don't know why this affected me this much. It's like everything she does makes me ten times more emotional than the same things other people do. If Mads laughed at me, I'd just drop it. But Elizabeth...

"I'm sorry, Y/n..." She repeats.

I stop at the stairs, turn around and see the worried look in her eyes. I don't want her to be upset, especially since she sincerely apologized, although she didn't have to do it.

"It's okay, I'm sorry I reacted this way, I don't know what got into me, It's probably adrenaline, I've never been on such waterslides before." I say with my head lowered because of the feeling of embarrassement.

"You could've just said to me, that you're not comfortable doing it. I'd never laugh at you or something like that, it's totally okay to have certain fears and I respect it. I just want us both to have a good time, not just me. So let's go get some ice cream and we should better just sunbathe, okay?" her tone is so gentle that it just melts my heart.

I didn't expect her to treat me like that. This causes me a storm of emotions, which I do my best to ignore. I simply thank her for caring and follow her to the bar.

We spent the rest of the day talking about random things like clothing brands, ice cream flavors, our favorite music and movie genres. Even though we have quite different tastes in many things, I still feel comfortable around her and I notice that she also finds it easy to talk to me.

The day passed almost unnoticed in her company. We interrupted only for snacks and swimming in the pool. The rest of the time we just talked about everything that came to our minds. Interesting thing that even though we discussed a lot of things, we learned almost nothing special about each other. I only found out that Elizabeth loves to cook and adores flowers, her favorite ice cream flavor is a mixture of strawberry and chocolate, and she would also like to adopt a Pomeranian someday. Well, I'm going to get to know her little by little.

After collecting our things and changing from wet bikinis to dry clothes, we headed to the exit. A small feeling of bitterness crept into my heart as we approached the main gate. Knowing damn well that it's the time we should say goodbye to each other, we silently stood there for a couple more minutes. Elizabeth cleared her throat and decided to break the silence first.

"Y/n, I had a truly wonderful time today. I really needed to break out of my routine and hang out with someone new, so thank you for keeping me company."

I smiled at her words. "Thanks to you too for getting me out of my home, I don't hang out with someone that often and I really enjoyed your company too."

I decide to say goodbye right away so as not to reduce our small talk to an awkward silence. "Bye, El. See you at work."

"Get home safely, Y/n, see you later."

With these words, we parted our ways. An hour later, I was sitting in the kitchen at home, eating some takeaway food and thinking about today.

She gives me very conflicting emotions. Sometimes I feel so comfortable with her, as if I've known her all my life, and sometimes she makes me so nervous, as if I have to pass a vital exam. I don't know much about her other than basic things and some interests that we don't even share, but I'm starting to feel some affection to her.

Realizing that I can always possibly end up catching actual feelings for her makes me dive deeper into my thoughts. C'mon, Y/n. The fact that you both watch Marvel doesn't make you soulmates. She's six years older than you. Your social circles are too different. Her family is a part of the beau monde, and there will never be a place for you. And yes, I almost forgot, she is engaged and will soon become the wife of a promising businessman. She deserves this life, she deserves someone to take a good care of her and you're not good enough. You will never be good enough for such woman like her. That's why you have to do everything in your power to save yourself from this destroying feelings.

Elizabeth's POV:

I got home completely immersed in my thoughts. Closing the door behind me, I lean my back against it, tilting my head up a little, and close my eyes.

"Babe, are you home already?" Boyd's voice comes from the bathroom I think. "I was just going to call you, I thought you'd be here when I come back."

I open my eyes in surprise, because he promised me to be at home late in the evening. And he came earlier exactly when I'd prefer to be alone. "Hi, Bo. I didn't expect you to be home this early" I say taking off my shoes and heading to the bathroom.

"I decided to finish earlier today, so I could spend Saturday night with you" he says looking out of the doorway and smiling at me. "Wow, you look a little tanned, have you been to the beach or something?"

"Yes, something like that. Look, I think I spent too much time under the sun, so I don't actually feel really well. I'd better go to my room to rest, if you don't mind. I'm so sorry that I ruined your plans and I promise to make it up to you" I say kissing his cheek and waiting for response.

"Oh. Of course. Can I help you with anything?"

"You know that I'll always call you, if I need your help." I excuse myself and go to my room.

As soon as I closed the door on my side, a huge wave of guilt immediately washes over me. I just lied to the person who put his business on hold just to spend some time with me. Selfish, lying, ungrateful bitch, who doesn't even know what she needs. That's who I currently am.

I lie down on the large bed, covering my face with my hands and my mind drifts to one particular person. How easily she made me laugh simply being herself, how excitedly she talked about her collections of different cards and Funko Pops, how attentively she listened when I talked about gardening, although I knew it wasn't interesting to her at all. She is exactly what her mother told me about her.

I remember how I couldn't contain myself from taking a quick looks at her curves. She caught me red-handed when my gaze lingered on her lower body, even though it wasn't even sexually suggestive. I hope she already forgot about it, I don't want her to think that I have this kind of interest in her.

Although my brain is increasingly replaying different scenarios in my head involving Y/n. It scares me so much, that some day an innocent interest grows into something I don't even want to think about. I can barely handle the overwhelming sensation I constantly feel, because of my inability to take my life into my own hands. No, I have to figure out how to avoid additional mental and physical problems, such as sudden feelings for the girl I don't even know much about.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fanfiction #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #lizzie olsen #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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fandom-imagines · 3 years ago

Text

A bad case of jealousy

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Jealous!Hanzo x Jealous!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: Like one swear word.

“Isn’t he incredibly handsome?” One of the new recruits whispered as three of them entered the room. “I mean even the way he dresses is handsome.”

“He really is,” another chimed in, a lovesick look gracing their features.

Y/N watched the group for a little while longer, genuine interest sparking within her as to who they were discussing.

“Hey, Genji,” she leant over to the cyborg, whispering in his ear so that nobody around the pair was able to hear her question. “Who are they talking about? Do you know?”

“I believe it to be my brother. They were swooning over him practicing his archery skills. It was quite amusing if I do say so myself.”

“Oh,”

Noticing the sudden change in behaviour of his close friend, he decided to somewhat comfort her. “I could be wrong though.”

Wordlessly, the girl nodded before standing up and leaving the room.

A tense feeling overcame Hanzo as the latest recruits, who he had not had the unfortune of speaking to yet, stood in the corner of the room giggling to one another as they stared at him yet again.

He had noticed them the first time they were there, inwardly rolling his eyes at their childish antics; it was almost as though they believed he did not notice their attraction to him and the way they would whisper compliments about him.

“I hear he’s single,” he caught the voice of the smallest recruit. “Maybe I should try and win his heart.”

“I heard he doesn’t get attached. Maybe I could change that?” Another said, shooting him a smile which he barely caught, attention being focused on the bow in his hand.

“No way! Surely it would be me,” the final girl spoke. “I hear he likes someone; it has to be me.”

Her final words shocked him, confused as to how somebody knew that he had taken a liking to somebody. Perhaps it was a mere rumour, or even a lie at that, but everything has some truth to it.

Too deep in his thoughts about the supposed rumour, Hanzo did not notice the girls gradually getting closer until one had their hand on him.

“Hello!” She said a little too eagerly, a bright smile on her face. “What is a man like yourself doing alone in a place like this?”

“Practicing,” came his curt response, praying that the trio would leave soon enough.

None of them seemed discouraged by his unwillingness to converse with them, however. In fact, they seemed delighted that he had even spoke to them.

“Well, do you need some help with that?” Another girl attached herself to the archer, reaching for his bow to ‘help’, but he moved it out of reach before she could touch it.

“I am quite alright, thank you.”

A look of excitement covered her face as she realised that he had said more to her than her friend, something that was an achievement to her.

As the flirting continued, Hanzo couldn’t help but notice a familiar bunch of Y/H/C-hair enter the practice zone, one he quite enjoyed seeing. However, she didn’t stay long, a shocked look filling her face at the sight of three girls clinging to him. He had never seen somebody leave so fast.

“Excuse me,” Hanzo quickly excused himself, brushing off their touch before leaving the zone in search of Y/N.

“Genji, have you perhaps seen Y/N recently?” Hanzo asked his younger brother as he seated himself opposite him.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Not since this morning. Why’d you ask?”

“No reason,” and with that Hanzo excused himself yet again to continue his search for the girl.

It didn’t take him long to find her. She was seated outside, leaning against a tree with her head rested on her bent knees, seemingly deep in thought.

“Y/N,” Hanzo’s deep voice caught her attention, pulling her from said thoughts.

“Hanzo,” she greeted with a polite, and forced, smile.

Hanzo hesitated for a moment, unsure as what to say.

“Forgive me,” was all he could think of.

His words confused the girl, her head tilting in confusion. “For what?”

“You should not have witnessed the scene in the practice range. It was irresponsible of me to allow it to him.”

“Why? It’s not like we’re together or anything. You didn’t want that, and I respect that. You’re welcome to flirt and see who you wish, Hanzo. It’s quite alright.”

Hanzo almost winced at the hurt in her words, guilt filling his body knowing that he was the cause of this. Both the hurt of telling her he did not wish to date her, as well as allowing the trio to flirt with him.

“I-“ Hanzo was cut off by Y/N standing up.

“Like I said, Hanzo. You’re welcome to flirt and date who you please. You rejected me, and that’s alright. I wish you the best with which ever of the three you choose.” And with that she left.

With a guilty look at her back, Hanzo regretted ever telling her he did not wish to date her. Not only was it a complete lie, but he also lost her friendship that day, preventing awkwardness and so.

“Genji, I have a mission with Hanzo and only Hanzo,” Y/N sighed, resting her head on Genji’s lap which was more comfortable than one could imagine.

His hand unconsciously lifted itself to her hair, running his hand through it which was common between them.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Y/N/N. What could possibly go wrong?” He replied.

“I suppose you’re right,”

“Of course I am,”

The trip to where Y/N and Hanzo were to go was an awkward one. Neither of the pair spoke to each other, silently avoiding looking at the other. It was painful.

Once they checked into the hotel, there was a short walk to the room, both ready to settle in for the night; it was freezing outside, a snowstorm taking place.

“Oh,” Y/N’s voice rang throughout the room. “There’s only one bed.”

Panic overtook both of them.

“I shall take the floor, it is not bother.”

Y/N shot him a look as though he was stupid. “Hanzo, it’s freezing. You will surely freeze to death before anything. It’s fine, we can share.”

A blush covered both their cheeks at her words, one they both desperately attempted to hide.

“I’ll go get changed,”

Y/N silently cursed herself for bringing only shorts and a vest. Had she known a snowstorm would be taking place, she would have taken something warmer. She was already freezing.

“Are you going to be okay sleeping like that?” Hanzo asked upon seeing her sleepwear. “Not that I was looking or anything! I just worry…”

Shivering, Y/N responded. “Hopefully I don’t freeze to death. Let’s just go to bed.”

Hanzo simply nodded in agreement.

Neither of them knew how much time had passed, only that they couldn’t sleep. Y/N was both too cold and nervous, and Hanzo was nervous.

“Hanzo,” her use of his name caught his attention. “This is really awkward, but can you cuddle me. I’m freezing.”

Hanzo, whose eyes had widened immensely, shuffled closer to her as he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body close to him in an attempt at providing some warmth to the freezing girl, something in which he succeeded. Within minutes the pair fell asleep, enjoying the others contact; the awkwardness of the following morning was something they hadn’t thought of.

Waking up tangled with Hanzo was something Y/N had imagined many times, but never had expected to happen. Eyes wide, she couldn’t apologise more.

“It is quite alright, Y/N. You most likely would have gotten sick otherwise,”

“I suppose that’s true. But I’m still sorry, that must have been uncomfortable for you.”

“Not at all,” he admitted with reddening cheeks.

“Welcome back guys!” Genji cheered upon the arrival of his brother and best friend. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” came Y/N’s awkward response, pushing past Genji with an apologetic look whilst Hanzo simply nodded in agreement.

“Did something happen?”

“It does not matter.”

Downing another shot, Y/N turned to her two drinking partners: McCree and Genji.

“I have decided,” she slurred. “I am going to get over Hanzo!”

“Yes you are!” An also drunk McCree cheered, patting her on the back. “What’s the plan? I’m always open to help.” He jokingly winked, stroking her hair.

“I will go flirt with the guy who has been buying me drinks all night.”

“You go girl!” Jesse cheered again as he watched his ex Blackwatch co-worker head towards another man.

“I think she may have forgotten we invited Hanzo to join us later,”

Hanzo, much to everyone’s surprise, did in fact join everyone at the bar an hour later. He had no plans of drinking, simply enjoying everybody’s company. But one was missing.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked, glancing towards the cyborg and cowboy who shared a nervous glance.

Both of them knew about Y/N and Hanzo’s feelings, but they also knew how Hanzo had rejected her, quite harshly at that.

“Uhm-“

It was then that Hanzo caught sight of the girl who was standing to leave with another man who had his arm around her waist, his lips on her neck as she giggled.

His two friends stared at him, searching for a reaction which they didn’t have the pleasure of seeing. Instead they witnessed him standing up, almost running towards the door which they had just left through.

“Y/N!” He called out to the girl who was about to climb into a cab. “Wait,” the desperation and determined look on his face was what made her stop in her tracks.

“What is it?” A wide-eyed Y/N asked, watching the man rush towards her.

“I must confess something,” he swallowed. “I am in love with you.”

“I’m sorry what?” She felt the mans arm drop from her waist, clearly getting angry at this strangers sudden confession.

“Look man, go find another girl to spout lovey-dovey crap too, this one is taken.” He snarled, too drunk to notice how easily he would lose a fight against Hanzo if it came to it.”

Hanzo simply brushed off his comment. “I said no out of fear of hurting you, but I seemed to do so by doing that. I never wished to hurt you, that is the last thing I would ever want to do. The truth is, I am too worried that you would not like me if you were to be in a relationship with me, it would hurt me too much to lose you.”

Frozen in shock, Y/N was unsure as to what to do, how to react.

“Hanzo I-I don’t know what to say.”

“It is okay if you do not wish to reply. I shouldn’t have said anything, I apologise sincerely.” He apologised, visibly deflated as he turned to leave.

“Hanzo wait!” The previous man was forgotten, her hand reaching to grab Hanzo’s own to prevent him from leaving.

“I love you too,”

A soft smile graced his lips as he took her hand in his own, attention solely on her.

“I am glad,”

His smile simply widened as Y/N raised a hand to his cheek, holding it in her hand as she placed a short kiss on his lips, pulling away to gaze into his eyes which held nothing but pure adoration.

“I love you, and I’ll always love you.”

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cocobeanncteez · 4 years ago

Text

ATEEZ San- Explore (oneshot)

Genre: Fluff, smut, high school au.

Pairing: badboy!San x reader (fem)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: profanities, masturbating for the first time, handjob, clit play, fingering.

You took a bite of your sandwich, listening to your bestfriend talk to you and your friends about her first time with her boyfriend.

"I swear, nothing feels better than that," your bestfriend stated, taking a sip of her mango juice. "I can do it over and over again."

Miri laughed. "I told you you'd enjoy it! Now it's Y/N's turn!"

You nearly choked on your sandwich. "W-What?!"

"Y/N, I'm pretty sure you imagine Choi San fucking you until you see—"

"Shh!" you put your palm over her mouth. "We're in public! His crazy fans might hear you!"

A few months ago, you developed a crush on one of your school's badboys, Choi San, after he suddenly became interested in you after being partnered for an assignment. Initially, you thought he just wanted to get into your pants, but after five months of knowing him, you knew he genuinely cared about you. You couldn't deny that you liked the boy and of course you've thought about dating him, but you didn't know how he truly felt about you.

"I've seen the way you look at San," your bestfriend said with a smirk. "Not the lovey-dovey look, although I've seen that too, but I'm talking about the I-want-you-to-dick-me-down look." Your cheeks instantly turned a bright pink; were you really that obvious? Well, it's not your fault San looks irresistible. The man's a whole Greek God in your eyes.

"You should make a move on him, Y/N," Yeonhee said.

"Yeah, get some dick," Miri agreed.

"Guys, you're supposed to encourage me to study, not to have sex!" you said, finishing the remaining of your sandwich. "Besides, how will I let someone else do things to me when I've never done anything to myself?" Sure, you've made out before with your ex, but there was very minimal touching over the clothes and some tongue. You never went further than that.

"Then start with yourself, genius. Explore your body and get familiar with it," your bestfriend stated nonchalantly. "I have the perfect advice for you. Trust me, you'll love the experience once you start exploring yourself and it'll be even better when someone else does it for you."

"Hey, mom? Do we have coconut oil?" you asked, entering her bedroom. "My lips are really chapped," you lied, knowing your mother would definitely fall for it.

"Yeah, it's in the kitchen in the third cabinet," she answered. "It's good that you're finally using something natural and not those chemical filled products." Oh, if only she knew. "Coconut oil is very safe and has a lot of benefits."

"Mhmm, yeah."

You wished your mother goodnight before you made your way to the kitchen, filling a tiny container with the oil. You couldn't buy sexual lube at the moment and you didn't want to wait, so this was your only option.

You went to your room, placing the tiny container on your bedside table while waiting for your parents to fall asleep. Once you were sure they were asleep, you locked your bedroom door.

You took off your clothes and lied down on your back, remembering all the advice your friends gave you.

You coated your fingers with the coconut oil before pressing it to your clit. You gently rubbed your nub in an up-and-down motion, closing your eyes while you thought of San hovering over you, imagining that your fingers were his. Your free hand moved to cup one of your breasts, giving it a gently squeeze. You could feel the heat at your hole, dripping with your essence while you increased the pace, rubbing your clit faster, imagining San slamming his cock in and out of you.

"San!" you moaned loudly, fingers moving faster on your clit; you were glad your parents' room was downstairs and on the other side of the house. Your back arched and your jaw dropped when you felt your clit become sensitive; it felt so so good. You kept rubbing at your nub until your legs shook and your clit was overstimulated. Was that it? Did you cum? You didn't even know. You assumed you didn't based on what your friends described an orgasm as.

You tried to rub yourself again, but your clit was too sensitive to handle it. You slowly sat up, putting your panties back on, feeling a little disappointed that you didn't orgasm. Oh well, you can always try again next time.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you jump and you cover yourself with your blanket.

"San?!"

San was inside your room, leaning against your open balcony door, staring at you with a smirk on his face. He was dressed in ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, and yet, he looked absolutely divine.

San has come into your room a bunch of times, but you certainly weren't expecting him today. He always calls you before coming over, so you wondered why he didn't do that this time.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your... session," he said, although he didn't seem sorry at all. "I would've stayed outside, but it's really cold, and as you can see, I'm not wearing warm clothes."

You didn't really know what to say. "Uh, when did you get here?"

"A minute or two before you moaned my name," he muttered with a smirk, making you pull the blanket up to cover your flushed face. So he saw pretty much everything?

San chuckled, moving to sit beside you on your bed. "Don't feel shy or embarrassed, Y/N," he pulled the blanket down to your neck to reveal your face. "I always think of you whenever I need to get off." You involuntarily let out a small whimper, feeling your sensitive clit throb at his words.

You sat up straight, letting the blanket fall to your waist, revealing your bare upper body. You noticed San gulp while his eyes took in the sight of your breasts. You wrapped your arms around his neck while you leaned in, gently kissing his jawline. San smiled, his hands moving to your bare waist, making you gasp at the feeling of his cold hands on your heated body.

Unable to control yourself, you crashed your lips onto his, and he responded immediately. You had imagined how it would feel to kiss San several times before, but this was a whole lot better.

Without breaking the kiss, you pushed him onto his back, straddling his lap. San smirked at your actions and you leaned down, reconnecting your lips. You involuntarily grinded onto his growing bulge, causing him to groan in pleasure. You could feel your panties sticking to your wet folds while you moved on him. Without breaking the heated kiss, San sat up, pulling you along with him, so that his back was resting against the headboard of your bed and you were still straddling him. He broke the kiss to trail open mouth kisses along your neck, making you tilt your head to give him more access.

"Can I touch you?" he mumbled against your skin, giving it a little nibble.

"Yes, please..."

San's hands moved up your body to your breasts. He gently massaged your breasts before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. He flicked it with his tongue, giving it a little swirl before repeating the same action for the other one.

"You don't know how many times I've wanted to do this to you," he said, lips meeting yours in a quick kiss before he changed positions, hovering above you. "Every time I came to your room, I had to control myself so much from wanting to kiss you... to touch you..." his hand moved down to your thighs, giving it a squeeze before he teased your inner thighs. He slowly moved his hand to cup your clothed heat, making you whimper.

"Fuck, please touch me," you begged.

San slowly took your panties off, mouth watering at the sight of your glistening core. His fingers moved to your clit, gently stroking your sensitive nub. You grabbed his hand once your clit became too oversensitive again, stopping him from touching you.

"I... it's very sensitive from what I was... doing before. It was my first time, so I don't think I can handle more," you mumbled, cheeks heating up. That's when San noticed the tiny container of coconut oil on your bedside table.

"Oh, you masturbated for the first time today?" he asked. You nodded, a little embarrassed.

"And you were thinking of me while you did it? Fuck, that's so hot," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you. "Since you're overstimulated, I won't touch you there. But I can finger you, if and only if that's okay with you."

You nodded. "It won't hurt, right?"

"From what I've heard, it most likely won't. I'll be as gentle as possible."

"Okay... then finger me, please."

San kissed your neck while his fingers explored the area around your entrance, avoiding your sensitive clit; he didn't want to just shove his fingers up immediately. "Just relax, baby," he murmured against your skin, and your tense body relaxed a bit. He ran his finger along your wet folds, collecting your juices. He took his time, teasing you around that area, trying to get you wetter.

When you felt wetter, he moved his body to rest in between your legs. He slowly slipped a finger into your hole. "Does it hurt?" he asked. You shook your head and he continued pushing his finger all the way in. You winced at the slight sting you felt when he pulled his finger back a little. "Are you okay? Does it hurt, baby?"

"It stings a little, but it's tolerable," you said, your hands moving to his messy black hair.

San slowly started pumping his finger in you, trying to be as gentle as possible; the stingy feeling was starting to fade away and you let him know that. He tapped around your walls, searching for your g-spot. You sucked in a breath when he found your spot, clutching a fistful of his hair. "Found it," he smirked, continuing to finger you, making sure to hit that very spot.

"S-San..." you moaned, your walls clenching around his finger. He kissed and gently sucked on the skin of your inner thighs while he fingered you. You could feel something building up in your lower stomach, and you assumed you were close to orgasming. "San, I think I'm—"

"Let it go," he pumped his fingers faster, making your back arch. "Cum for me, baby." His words and a few more pumps was all it took for your orgasm to wash over you, making you loudly moan his name. He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean, eyes closing at your taste. "So fucking sweet."

You pulled San into a kiss, tasting yourself, feeling really happy and relaxed. You felt his hard-on press against your inner thigh, and you instantly pulled away. "Let me help you now."

San pecked your lips. "It's fine, Y/N. This is all new to you so I don't want to make you uncomfortable or something."

"I'll be happy knowing that you're satisfied too," you said, running a hand through his hair. "But you'll have to show me how cause I've never done this before."

He chuckled cutely, kissing you softly before he sat against the headboard. "Grab the oil, baby. Pour some onto your palm," he said, pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing his toned abs. You did as he said while watching him unzip his jeans, taking it off along with his briefs, causing his hard cock to slap against his lower stomach, the tip leaking with precum. Your eyes roamed all over his naked body; you always thought San looked extremely handsome, but now he looked even better.

"Touch me, Y/N," he said with a smile, grabbing your attention. "You just have to touch me like this," he showed you how to do it and gave you a few tips.

"Okay..."

You gently wrapped your oily hand around his length, earning a slight hiss from him. You moved your hand up and down his length just like he showed you, lubricating it with the oil. You twisted your hand slightly, moving closer to his tip. "Fuck," he muttered when you swiped your finger along his slit; you mentally noted that he liked it. Your hand moved back down and you added a little pressure, slowly jerking him off. "You're doing so well, baby," he moaned, staring at you with hooded eyes, lower lip caught in between his teeth. You increased the pace, making him buck his hips up. "Keep going, doll... I'm so close." You moved your hands faster, earning a loud groan from San while he orgasmed, his cum shooting onto his stomach and some spilling onto your hand. You stroke him for a few more seconds before removing your hand.

San pulled you into a quick kiss. "That was amazing, Y/N. You did so well."

"T-Thanks..." you blushed. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I loved it," he pecked your lips. "Let's clean up, hmm?" You nodded, and the two of you made your way to your bathroom.

San told you about his day while you both washed up. After you both got dressed, you cuddled on your bed, resting your head on his chest.

"Oh, by the way... I actually came here to tell you something," San said, intertwining your hand with his.

"Tell me what?" you questioned sleepily; you could hear his heartbeat speed up.

San took a deep breath, feeling quite nervous. "I... I like you, Y/N," he confessed. "I've liked you ever since we worked on that assignment together. My feelings just keep getting stronger, so I just had to let you know today."

You moved so that you could see his face that was filled with hope and anxiety because he wasn't sure if you felt the same way even after what you both did minutes ago.

You reached up to cup his cheek, hand moving down to run along his sharp jawline. You brought his face closer to yours, capturing his lips in a soft, slow kiss, instantly making his tense body relax. You pulled away slightly to say, "I like you too, Sannie."

San smiled wide, his dimples showing. He pulled you into a kiss even though he wasn't able to stop smiling.

He pulled away to look at you, his hand gently running through your hair. "Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me tomorrow?"

You nodded with a smile, pecking his cheek. "Gladly."

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sserpente · 4 years ago

Photo

A/N: Request from @wrenstrange! Put up the decorations, it’s finally time again! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 1957 Warnings: pure fluff, blood sample/needle/syringe, soft!Loki, fatique, fainting

You dropped like a piece of wood right about when you were making yourself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Knees ceasing to support you any longer, vision darkening, stars dancing around you making you dizzy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and before you knew it, your body finally won and shut down.

Although if you could have chosen, you would not have fallen straight into Loki’s arms whose reflexes caught you, preventing you from hitting the hard floor beneath you. He cradled you with his brows furrowed, his blue gaze almost helpless as he looked at Thor and Stark for support.

Then, everything went black.

“Welcome back.” You blinked, the artificial lights above your head blinding you. A hand held you down when you attempted to sit up drowsily. Bruce was leaning against a metal table in Tony’s lab, hands crossed before his chest and with a concerned expression on his face. “You blacked out,” he explained, “out of the blue.”

“How are you feeling?” Tony added.

You only realised then that it was Loki who had held you down. He was sitting on a chair right next to the makeshift bed they had carried into Tony’s lab and he was observing you with Argus eyes. Your heart sped up when you noticed. You usually tended to avoid the God of Mischief at all cost. There was a part of you that was afraid of him after watching him making an entire crowd kneel in Stuttgart, the other was hands down swooning over him. It had all started when he had rescued a cat from a tree, honouring a cliché he had not even been aware of. But someone who helped defenceless little kittens had to have a soft heart deep down, no?

Thor had brought him to Earth along with him after Asgard had been destroyed. He could not exactly be considered an Avenger but he had long surpassed the villain image… at least, to some extent. Well, you were no Avenger either. You used to be a SHIELD intern and then somehow ended up with the superheroes themselves. Apart from some basic fighting skills and the ability to use a gun, you had been trained to spend most of your time in front of a computer, often working twelve hours or even more a day. What did they say? Evil never sleeps.

“Any idea what might have caused this?” Bruce continued.

You shook your head. “No. But I’ve been having migraines and a persistent fatigue that just won’t go away.”

“I see… anything else?”

“Um…”

“You can talk to us, (Y/N).”

“Well, I… I’ve been dizzy a lot lately but that sometimes happens during my special week of the month so I didn’t think anything of it.” You took a deep breath but hesitated.

“And?”

“I’ve been sweating way more when working out. Like, a lot more. Instead of making progress… I feel like I’m getting weaker every day. It’s frustrating.”

“Uh-huh. I’m taking a blood sample. FRIDAY will run a couple of tests on you to figure out what’s wrong.”

“What? No! Nothing’s wrong! We don’t need a b-blood sample.”

“No one faints for no reason, (Y/N), especially not on Loki.” Loki rolled his eyes but did not leave your side, even when Bruce started fiddling around with some gear and apparently, a first-aid kit and then approached you with a syringe and a small clear vial.

“I’ve done this a million times before, I’ll be gentle.”

“No! No, no blood test, Bruce, please!” Almost hysterically, you moved back on the bed, your heart in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” Loki suddenly said calmly. You shivered when he spoke your name, his head tilted slightly. “Are you afraid of needles?”

“N-n-no…” You lied. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Look at me.” He said. Hesitating only a little, you did as you were told. It wasn’t like his tone allowed any contradiction anyway. In fact, it reminded you a lot of his strict and bossy tone when he had caused chaos in Germany. “It has to be done. Hold my hand and do not take your eyes off of me.”

“Who are you and what you have done to Reindeer Games?” Tony tossed in, throwing the Trickster a suspicious glance. Loki rolled his eyes once more. As if he had any obligation to explain himself to Stark of all people.

In the meantime, you were panicking even more. Loki was being nice and considerate with you and Bruce was about to pierce your skin with a needle. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… your breathing sped up.

“Look. At. Me.” Loki repeated. You obeyed this time, allowing him to take your hand and press it gently. Much to your surprise, it immediately calmed you down a little. You gaped at him unbelievingly. You didn’t even feel the needle going into your skin and drawing blood. Wait… was he casting a spell on you?

“There. All done.” You could not bring yourself to look where Bruce brought your blood sample but when both Tony and he stepped away and turned their backs on you, you swallowed.

“T-thank you…” You had to ask—not because you did not think he was not capable of offering his help without seeking a personal advantage and not because you didn’t think he was too evil to even think about being selfless… but because you were genuinely curious about his motivation. Loki did nothing without a reason, he was always one step ahead. “You put a spell on me, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Why… why did you do that for me?”

“We are all afraid of something.” It was the only response he gave you. For a few moments, you merely sat there quietly, neither of you uttering a single word. Only when Bruce and Tony returned did you realise that Loki was still holding your hand.

“Okay… I’ve got the results from your blood test and FRIDAY couldn’t find anything suspicious.” Tony announced, scrolling on his tablet. Bruce adjusted his glasses to take a peek.

“You said you’ve been feeling tired? You sweat a lot, you get dizzy, and I’m presuming you barely have an appetite?”

“I don’t have time to eat a lot to be honest…” You confirmed.

“Any concentration problems?”

Pressing your lips together to a thin line, you thought about it for a moment. Now that he mentioned it… it had gotten obnoxiously hard to focus on your work lately. Eventually, you nodded.

“Sounds like severe exhaustion to me.” Bruce said. “Do you have issues with low blood pressure or diabetes or any other medical condition? No, FRIDAY would have found something like that. You know what I think? You overworked yourself.”

“Like… a burnout?” You probed.

“Most definitely.”

You grunted. Oh, that was just great. There you were, attempting to squeeze in regular workouts in this awesome training hall the Avengers called the HARM room after work to get stronger and hence, eventually gather up the courage to speak to Loki and now you looked exactly like what you did not want him to see you as—a weak and meagre human.

“The best medicine would be for you to quit work for a while and stop physical exercise altogether.”

“Banner is right,” Tony added. “Take a few weeks off and rest, sleep in, eat more and healthy… the whole program. I officially give you a holiday.”

“You’re not my boss, Tony, you can’t give me a holiday.” Your smile was weak. “But I don’t have time for this anyway! I can’t believe this is happening so soon before Christmas!” You whined. “I can’t stay in bed, I’ve got so much to do! I have to buy presents and decorate and bake biscuits and make gingerbread… Besides, I’m gonna fall behind on all the data.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take care of that. Let me talk to Fury. You let us know if you need anything. Can you take her to her room, Reindeer Games? And please, no funny business.” Beside you, Loki was just frowning, utterly ignoring the billionaire’s request.

“Why were you pushing yourself so hard?” He finally spoke when the two Avengers had left—whether it was genuine confusion or mere curiosity in his voice, you were not sure. “Why were you training for battle in the first place? I have never seen you out on a mission.”

You sighed. Time to let the cat out of the bag, it wasn’t like you were still going to make a good impression on him anymore now.

“I wanted to impress you, I guess…”

“Impress me?” Loki repeated incredulously.

“Yeah… catch your attention… in a way. I mean, part of me is still terrified of you, of course but… you have a good heart, Loki. I knew when I saw you rescuing that cat from the tree.”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes. “I knew this was going to damage my reputation.” He responded with a sly smirk, making you grin. “It was an innocent kitten, what was I supposed to do?”

“See?”

Your heart skipped a beat when his blue eyes locked with yours. He appeared… uncertain; not used to dealing with affection. Loki swallowed.

“Can you walk?”

“I’m not sure…”

The God of Mischief sighed, his lips pressed together to a thin line. Without any hesitation, he snuck one of his arms under your knees and wrapped the other around your waist. He lifted you off the makeshift bed as if you weighed nothing—and to him, you probably didn’t.

Loki carried you to your room in utter silence and eventually lay you down in your bed. Your heart jumped when he sat down on the edge of the bed himself, with a peculiar interest in his hands so he would not have to look you in the eye.

“There is no need to impress me.” He suddenly said. Your head shot up. “I did not think anyone would even… never mind.”

Oh. It almost felt like you were finally getting to know each other, for real this time.

“Do you want to stay for a while? I was going to watch some Christmas movies if I’m not allowed to get out of bed.” You sighed. “I can’t even decorate. You have no idea how many decorations I have to put up. None of the others care to make it a little more festive here, especially not Fury.”

“Yes, I have seen the boxes.” Loki replied. “It’s a little… corny, wouldn’t you say?”

“Honestly, when living among superheroes who risk their lives every single day, you could use a little corny.”

“I see.” Loki simply waved his hand and before you knew it, your entire room was decorated. Green and red tinsel shimmered on your window sill, holiday lights were blinking above your door and fake—but incredibly real-looking—snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Many of your favourite decoration items were now sitting on your nightstand and your desk, including your tiny little Christmas tree. The rest of the decorations, so it seemed, Loki must have spread all over the Tower.

“Oh my Goodness… Loki, this is amazing!” The God of Mischief winked and when you looked down on yourself, you noticed you too were wearing a green and gold Christmas sweater. Heavens, you could kiss him. “Thank you so much! What did you… is the entire Tower…”

“Yes.” He confirmed. He didn’t have to. Tony did only a fraction of a second later.

“Thor! Can you tell me why my Ironman helmet just grew metal antlers? I swear to God, if Reindeer Games has something to do with this…” It was then you exploded with laughter despite your exhaustion.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

Text

How old is too old?

Jung Jaehyun x reader // SMUT, SMUT, angst, fluff

Themes: OLDER JAEHYUN, YOUNGER READER, please I’m begging you don’t read my works if you’re not comfortable.

Word count: 5k

Summary: Jaehyun was your father’s best friend and life has it’s own twist of reuniting you again.

Warnings: OLDER JAEHYUN, YOUNGER READER, BOTH LEGAL AGE, sex, sex, sex, over stimulation, choking, slapping, dom Jaehyun, mentions of other idols, pairing of other idols, swearing, unprotected sex, rough sex, filthy sex, sad ending, Jaehyun is Johnny’s best friend, Johnny is your dad do the math. Mentions of alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, sad ending

A/N: I did this in one sitting. This is only a made up story and theres no way in hell that this is true. If something about the warning doesn’t sit well on you please don’t read. I would like to thank the anon who pointed out the sensitive topic. I already deleted some parts and edited the fic. Again thank you, and I will be better next time. For the first 200+ readers, I’m sorry if the fic was carrying something sensitive and I was clueless about it but after consulting with some of my fellow writers, I think the edited version of this fic is now safer. Thank you! And if the concept is still sensitive you can message me again I’ll be happy to delete it.

Have you ever seen someone so dreamy and handsome that he sparkles every time he’s around? Or whenever he’s around he just lights up the whole room with his smile. He’s like an angel or a saint that walks among us. Mr. Jaehyun or Mr. Jae, as you call him, is the epitome of that description.

Same birthday, different age.

Years later

“Good morning princess, happy birthday”

The sun is hitting your eyes and you put an arm on your head, not minding the person kissing your exposed thighs. Yuta has been your fuck buddy ever since the day you’ve been introduced to sex. He was your first at everything, but you two never had the guts to take your relationship to the next level. Nonetheless, you’re both still scared to lose each other.

“See you tonight?” you said weakly, admiring Yuta’s angelic features under the bright natural light that comes in your room perfectly.

“Definitely” he kissed your cheek and flopped on top of your naked body, “Don’t forget to clean up well, I came almost five times inside you last night,” he said before he kisses you one last time and leaves you to enjoy your morning.

On your way to the dining room, every one that crosses your path greets you good morning and happy birthday. You respond with a smile and ‘thank you’ as you continue to walk, everyone seems busy for the dinner party tonight.

On the long table, you found your mother and father having coffee and reading the newspapers. “Morning” you greet the before you sit.

“Happy Valentine's day” Johnny, your father, teases you as he folds the newspaper. You roll your eyes at him at let out a small laugh, “You’ll love my surprise for you tonight” he added, chewing his toast with strawberry jam on it.

“Another car? Oh, wait. Did you bought me a whole Chanel boutique already?” you tease your father, even though he perfectly knew you hate material gifts.

“Oh no. You’ll like this one” he smirks at you and stood up to give you a kiss on the forehead, “happy birthday, I’ll be back before dinner and before the guests arrived. Just have to handle a few things at the office”

“Why do I feel like you’re about to buy me a private plane” you tease him again and left you with your mother to enjoy breakfast together.

Living with fame and money all your life didn’t make you a spoiled daughter, or a big spender like your dad. You’re always about the simple things in life that give you genuine happiness, it’s always the people around you are showering you with expensive gifts that you’re grateful for but to be honest, you don’t need it. Family, career, and love. Those are the most important things in your life. But about love, you’re not sure yet.

During the family dinner, as usual, the house is packed with family, family friends, and some people at work. Champagnes everywhere, people chatting about business or whatnot, families catching up, and friends reuniting.

“Where is dad?” you asked your mother, Seulgi while you wait for both your father and Yuta to arrive. You’re not blowing your birthday candles without your dad.

As you chat with other people and enjoy your celebration, your ears rang when you heard people exclaiming that Johnny has arrived. You walked to the entrance to greet your father, and to your surprise… Jaehyun is with him. Handsome as ever as if those years of not seeing each other didn’t make him age.

“You remember Jaehyun right?” your father introduced you to Jaehyun like one of his business partners, but Jaehyun is more than that.

“Mr. Jae, you’re back- is he, the gift that you’ve been telling me?” the question was directed to Johnny but your eyes are glued to Jaehyun, shaking his hands still.

“You’ve grown so much!” Jaehyun knew it was wrong to scan your hot body but he couldn’t resist. He’s good at hiding it.

Seeing Jaehyun right before your eyes made you feel things that you are not supposed to be feeling. He’s not your uncle, you don’t share the same blood, he’s just one of your dad’s business partners. The lust that you felt the moment you saw him scan your body felt so wrong but good at the same time. How can Mr. Jae do this to you?

As the night became more and more interesting, you and Jaehyun spent hours and hours talking and catching up. You have completely forgotten about your other guests, you just want to talk to Jaehyun the whole night.

He hasn’t changed a bit, the only thing that changed in his life is his steady career. The business in Connecticut made him filthy rich because he put his whole life on managing it. He apologised for leaving you and not saying goodbye, “to be honest I’m happy I didn’t see you before I leave, I knew you would be sad and I couldn’t bear seeing you like that. How are you?”

“The same sweet girl that you left, Mr. Jae” you just flirted and you hope he will just shrug it off. “Managing my own business now, I could live alone already but I’m too attached with my parents-“

“Hey, princess” Yuta came out of nowhere and interrupt you mid-sentence. He kissed you on the cheek, enough to make Jaehyun think that he’s your boyfriend or someone who has your heart. “Didn’t get to spend some time with you tonight, but it’s fine. I left your present on top of your bed, I hope you like it”

Jaehyun was watching attentively the whole time you and Yuta were talking, and after Yuta left you noticed that Jaehyun was smirking while he drinks his wine. “Now, I’m perfectly convinced that you’ve grown. He’s not your fiancé or anything right?”

“No no.” you shook your head nervously, “Just someone, who can provide my sexual needs” you added confidently letting him know that, yes you’re an adult now.

The catching up with Jaehyun continues, but soon your birthday ends and everyone needed to go home. Jaehyun kissed you on the cheek and told you that he was so happy to be reunited with you again.

“Oh, Mr. Jae” you blurted out before he gets in his car, “Happy birthday”

Jaehyun smiled so sweetly, heart-pounding, ear turning red because he’s so happy that you remember. “Happy birthday to us”

Weeks after your birthday, you decided to live separately with your parents and move out of the mansion. Johnny was sad about it, but he clearly knows sooner or later he needed to let go of you. While you were putting your stuff and organizing some of your things, someone knocked at your door but you’re hands are full you couldn’t open the door for them. “Come in, it’s open. Sorry, my hands are full” You were inside your walk-in closet, putting your shoes inside boxes and you wonder who it might be.

“Thought I should say hi to you. Your father is busy taking important calls” Jaehyun explained.

For a moment, you and Jaehyun chatted and exchanged questions. He asked you what made you change your mind about living on your own, you asked what's his business with your dad lately. Both gave interesting answers until the room became silent as you go back to packing your stuff.

He watches you put your things on boxes, but your Victoria’s Secret satin sleepwear catches his attention. Those thin shorts that expose your butt cheeks whenever you bend over, thin sleeveless top that he oh so wanted to remove, the way your nipples ghost on your thin satin sexy top makes him want to pinch your nipples until you’re whimpering.

You don’t know what he needs, but you feel his breath on your nape. His presence is not easy to avoid when he’s directly behind you and awfully close. “Mr. Jae, do you need something else?” You clear your throat before reaching something but he stopped you from moving. He turned you around and his hands are quick to hold your ass, squeezing them gently with both hands, your body relaxes against his chest but your heart is pounding.

“Put your leg around my waist” it was a stern tone that made you follow without hesitation. He put you on the nearest wall and pinned you the there, his hands are busy removing your shorts and panties. Once you’re naked waist down, he unbuckles his belt and released his thick, veiny cock. The place was dead silent and you couldn’t talk because you can’t believe what’s happening. He kissed you on the cheek before pushing in halfway.

It hurt. But he didn’t care.

He pulls out again only to push right back in a little harder than before. You closed your eyes because it fucking hurts but it felt so good that you part your lips and rolled your head back.

After a few pleasurable thrusts that stretched your walls good, he stopped. The goal was not to have sex and had an amazing orgasm then and there. Jaehyun was testing the waters if you’re up to doing something stupid with him. His main goal for putting his cock inside you was not to give you an orgasm but to let you know that letting him fuck you someday will fucking feel good.

“If you want this to happen again, go to my place tonight. I’ll text you the address” he went down to get your shorts and panties on the floor and helped you wear it. He buckled his belt in front of you without taking his eyes off of you.

Jaehyun left you in your room with a confused mind. Questions over questions but you do know one thing, he will surely see you in his place tonight. And because of that, you finished putting your stuff and took a long bath on the tub. Making sure that every part of your body smells like lavender.

The thought of Jaehyun being your father’s best friend doesn’t sit well on you but the urge and the want of being fucked by Jaehyun lurks in your mind. What’s so wrong about having sex with Jaehyun anyway? Yes, he’s older but you’re an adult too.

As you drive to Jaehyun’s house for the first time, you try not to think about the people who will get mad if they know about this stupid thing that you’re about to do. Jaehyun’s house location is so far from the city, away from every chaos you could think of. As expected, his house is big and well guarded. But it feels cold and lonely.

“You live alone? Mr. Jae?” you asked when you got out of the car, Jaehyun welcoming you with a hug. He looks comfortable in his house clothes, slippers and all.

“Yes. My helpers come and go every weekend to clean the house. How was the drive?” He put an arm around your waist before he opens the door and enter his house, it was beautiful inside. A Chet Baker song was playing somewhere around the house, and it smells good. “I cooked dinner, I hope you’re starving”

You thought that once you stepped foot in his house, he will bring you straight to his room and have sex with you because it’s always like that with Yuta but you’re wrong. He made you dinner and the set up is kind of romantic. The food that he cooked is delicious it made you feel like you were eating somewhere expensive.

And just after dinner and two bottles of wine ago, you two catch up some more. You caught yourself laughing at his stories, giggling when he flirts with you, smiling whenever he looks at you deeply. Then it hit you, maybe he’s just shy to admit that he likes you and that his true purpose is to date you not just fuck you.

“What I did earlier is rather bold and wrong, I’m-“

“It’s okay, Mr. Jae. I’m here, it happened already” he smiled as you sip on your wine.

“Please, call me Jaehyun” he smiled back to you.

When the two of you grew tired of catching up already, finally he brought you to his room. He left you for a minute to lurk around and all you felt was loneliness. The room felt lonely, his entire house too and you’re not stupid to know why you’re here. It’s clear that Jaehyun is lonely in his life even though he has all the money in the world.

“Where are you?” you feel his lips on your neck. Maybe he noticed that you were spacing out. But again, Jaehyun is close to your body just like earlier and it brought you back to reality. You can feel the warmth of his body that you oh so crave, his soft lips that you want to kiss and taste. He turned your body around to face him and just like that he kissed you softly as if he just read your mind.

“Is it weird?” that an older man is kissing you right now?

“No. Not at all, do it again?” you confidently requested, and he happily did it again. Arms around Jaehyun’s neck, kissing each other like everything is right, your fingers go through his soft hair. Every moan that comes from your mouth goes straight to his cock making it twitch and want to be inside you.

He sat you down on the edge of his bed and went in between your legs, removing your laced panties slowly. Dress all wrinkled and just above your thighs, straps already fell off your shoulders making you looked ruined already.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said while removing his pants together with his expensive underwear. What’s about to happen is, Jaehyun will fuck on the edge of his bed. He pushed inside you again for the second time today without foreplay, rolling hips slowly making you see how lustful he is.

He was so concentrated on fucking you, but he leaned down for a kiss and pull away again so he can see his cock go in and out of your pussy. Jaehyun’s deep grunts and moans are like music to your eyes while yours are like an achievement for him. Hearing you moan because of him feeds his pride and he loves it.

“That Nakamoto guy you’ve been having sex with didn’t fucked you enough” he informs you confidently with a sly smirk on his face. You were so sensitive by this time, both legs folded and clipped on the edge of the bed giving Jaehyun more access to your cunt, explore angles as he pleases. You wanted to close your legs so bad, but it feels so damn good you force yourself to keep your legs open for him.

“Spread your folds for me” you followed and you let him flick his thumb up and down your slit while he fucks you still, putting pressure on his finger and putting his whole cock inside you.

“Too much,” you said weakly, out of breath, gasping so hard.

“And that’s what makes it feel good, enjoy it.” by this time you don’t know what made you cum so hard, his sexy voice, his cock inside you, or his fingers. The orgasm Jaehyun gave wasn’t something Yuta can easily deliver and you hate that you’re comparing them with each other. You close your legs and shiver on the mattress, feeling your pussy tingle even tho Jaehyun pulled out already.

“Good?” he leaned down on you again and kissed your lips, your neck, your face while you two crawl up to the bed and lay comfortably with the pillows. The kiss was full of hunger and lust as if he’s not letting you rest even just for a minute after making you cum for the first time. It was so intense that you’re high isn’t going away and you can feel him line his cock again while he distracts you with his hungry kisses.

“Jaehyun, I need to breathe” he chuckles and gave your request. He used the time to remove his shirt and get you naked before positioning himself again in between your legs that you refuse to open, “Baby, don’t make me open those legs for you” it wasn’t a threat, but it made you scared even tho he was kissing your neck the whole time he was talking.

His beautiful body is on top of you as you slowly open your legs again for him, he tickled your sides and it made you giggle. “Y/n, relax why are you so tensed?” Jaehyun’s arms are perfectly wrapped around your body and it’s making you blush and shy because it’s such an intimate position, the kind of sex position married couples use.

“I’m not tensed, it’s just everything feels new and were so close-“

“Get used to it then” he proceeds to kiss your neck and make you calm using his lips, he was still embracing you and you doubt that he’s going to pull away any second. “Ready?” he asked, rolling his hips a little and you nod your head ‘yes’.

There’s that stinging stretch again because of Jaehyun’s cock that makes your mouth open and your eyes closed. Your embrace to Jaehyun tightens while he thrust in and out of you slowly, but not for long. His thrusts became hammering pounds, that your head hit his headboard already but no one cares, it feels good. “Harder Jae, harder” it was a breathy tone that Jaehyun loved.

You can’t believe that those hard and piercing thrusts can make you both cum in no time and as expected, Jaehyun is wild. “Jae” you call out his name but he chose not to listen.

Tears on your eyes started to fall because of the overstimulation but the man above you sill hasn’t stopped, deep inside you don’t want him either. Jaehyun was the kind of man who will not stop even though your cunt is overflowing with his cum, he overstimulated you, he overstimulated himself. And just like that you both cum again, moaning as loud as you can because you perfectly knew no one can hear you.

That night, you’ve been fucked far too many times in ways you’ve never been fucked before. Every round was more intense than the last one, you never felt so thankful to whoever invented birth control pills because you’re damn sure than Jaehyun can get you pregnant.

You don’t know how, but you somehow passed out and you woke up clean and covered with Jaehyun’s thick duvet. He wasn’t beside you, so you forced yourself to go up and wear his black shirt as cover to your naked body and went outside his room. The house was so big that you don’t know where to start finding him, good thing you found him sitting on one of his couches facing the lit pool outside with a glass of wine on his hand. Body still exposed but he’s wearing a clean Calvin Klein boxers briefs now.

“Why are you sitting so far away from me, come sit on my lap” the invitation made you smile and you walked slowly towards him and sat on his lap as requested. “I'm sorry that I had to drag you into this mess. I’m too old to find someone that will love me genuinely, that’s why I find people who can satisfy my sexual needs”

See, you’re right. He’s lonely. And he got the idea of making you a target for his needs because he knew about you and Yuta being fuck buddies during that time on your birthday. “Oh, so that gave you an idea, huh” you smirk, and raked his hair away from his face.

“Yeah. I'm sorry”

“No don’t be. Clearly, I loved everything that happened tonight the moment I stepped right in”

“How about your man friend, Nakamoto. Will he be okay about you fucking other people? Older people?” he took a sip on his wine, leaning comfortably on his expensive couch giving you a perfect view of his hot body.

“You may be old but you fuck like a horny teenager. Yuta doesn’t need to know” the conversation is getting serious.

“Good because, what we have, what happened should stay between us. It will ruin my career, my job, my friendship with Johnny, my relationship with you”

Ouch. That hurt you. “So you’re my second fuck buddy now?” how can you even think that he likes you and that what just happened in his bed was not just because he’s lonely. How can you think that he longs for you, need you? You scoffed and tried to get out of his lap but he’s quick to grab you and put his hands on your thighs.

“No no, I didn’t mean it that way. We’re together. We’re together as we can be, but we can’t go public until we found a solution. Okay? Don’t frown, please. My heart can’t bear to see you sad or disappointed”

“Okay, I’m sorry I overreacted”

“Let's sleep?” you nod your head with a smile and just like that he left his glass of wine on the table near the couch and carried you back effortlessly in his room. You will never forget this moment that you two slept in one bed. Back against his chest, arms around your waist, the air that comes out from his nose hits your nape perfectly like a reminder that he’s close to you.

Days went on and on like this until it turned into weeks then months. Jaehyun didn’t feel lonely in his house big house anymore, and your life is complete now because you found love. He helped you designed your apartment but you never stayed there because you live in Jaehyun’s now with him.

You and Jaehyun go on to dates like a normal couple but with utmost caution. Spending beautiful nights under the stars, celebrating holidays together, going on vacation. You and Jaehyun plan a lot for the future, and it makes you happy because you have something to look forward to.

As you live with Jaehyun, you became the woman of the house who managed everything even the expenses. Everything was transparent between you and Jaehyun, ‘what’s mine is yours’ as he described it. It was like a trial to married life with Jaehyun, and you’re loving it so far. A perfect love story and no one is reckless enough so not a single soul suspects your relationship.

“My business partners are giving me a headache” he complains as soon he enters your shared room and kissed you. He smelled like car air freshener and he looked like he had a rough day.

You continue reading your book and reply to some of your clients through email on the side while you wait for Jaehyun to come to bed with you. Focused and unbothered, you didn’t feel him kiss your legs as he crawls on the bed shirtless and only wearing hid pajamas.

“Can we have sex? Make my day better please” he asks so sweetly in between kissing you on your neck, your book is long forgotten.

“Thought you were tired?” you caressed his flawless back, feeling his back muscles on your hand, he only shook his head and kissed you down until you reach the fluffy pillows. Swiftly he unbuttons your sleepwear, revealing your boobs that he soon attacked with kisses and love bites. You managed to get him naked and he managed to remove your thin shorts and underwear.

He checked your slit and you were a little dry, so he went down between your legs and spit on your cunt. Filthy but hot. Whenever you have sex with your boyfriend, his cock still stretches your cunt like he’s getting bigger and bigger each day. You never get used to is. You let out a soft ‘ouch’ and Jaehyun heard it, “Yes that’s right. Hurt for me baby”

“I’m not tight you’re fucking big Jae. You’re not even hard enough and yet-fuck!” he interrupted you with a piercing thrust mid-sentence. “Why do you always do that” you whine, he just smirked and continue fucking you wild.

Whenever Jaehyun is stressed like this the sex is always rough and wild, and you love it. He pulls away from kissing your swollen boobs and put a hand around your neck choking you well. His other hand is intertwined yours so whenever it’s too much you can always tell him to stop. But it was never too much for you. The overstimulation, yes. But his roughness, never. “Harder,” you request in between short breaths.

You smiled at him before you cum, eyes rolling back as usual. He pulls out slapped your cunt while you’re still sensitive and shivering, enjoying the view of his beloved girlfriend whimpering on the bed. “Why is fucking you one time is always not enough. We always have to go for a few more rounds. I’m so in love with you” He grabs both of your hands and put it around his neck, “Keep me close Y/n, I love you” he said before going inside you again to fuck you a little bit softer, gentler, and slower.

Having slow sex with Jaehyun is as good as having rough sex with him. “Does it still hurt? I’m sorry” but he still thrusts and puts his entire cock inside you making a bulge on your stomach.

“Fuck I forgot, pull out when you cum okay? I forgot to take my pill this week. Sorry” it was something that didn’t scare Jaehyun. Having kids with you is something he dreamed of happening and he’s ready for it.

“I want to have kids with you” he sounded serious but you’re not on the right mind right now to tell him your answer. You want it too, but you’re not yet ready. You still have so much to unlock in your life. If he pulls out, that will give you relief. But if he doesn't, well, you can just hope that you won’t get pregnant.

After a few thrust,

He pulled out.

What a relief.

That night, Jaehyun stayed in bed a little late just looking at your beautiful face under the nice moonlight shining through his window. He will ask you to marry him and live a normal life, he will face Johnny and handle the situation in his own hands. He will do everything in his power to give you a happy life without hiding from the people who will judge your relationship.

The next day, you woke him up with loving kisses just how he wants it. Jaehyun lived almost half of his life waking up alone in a cold bed, but now that you’re part of his life, he gets to enjoy waking up from your kisses and waking up with a dimpled smile.

“Good morning, you’re up early,” he said groggily but with a smile.

“See you tonight at the party? I have to leave early and take care of some stuff at the office”

He nods his head and forced himself to sit up and give a kiss. A little longer than you expected, but always sweeter than yesterday’s kiss. “I love you. Find me later okay?” you nod your head ‘yes’ and kissed some more.

The annual business party that your dad threw for his company is a big event for him, nonetheless, it’s not stressful just full of people wearing tuxedos, gentlemen with their wives, your dad’s business partners together with their secretaries.

Wearing a beautiful Valentino dress, you walk to the entrance with Yuta hoping that your boyfriend will not get mad because this was just a last-minute thing. Yuta came out of nowhere before you enter the party, and you didn’t want to shoo him away because it will hurt his feelings. After all, you two had a history.

Seated on the same table, you and Yuta, your father and mother, Jaehyun, and his date Yeri. As part of hiding, you and Jaehyun didn’t talk too much but he did tell you you’re beautiful in front of your father and complimented the necklace that you’re wearing which he gave you. Seeing Yeri near your boyfriend hurt you like you two just broken up. Like you and Yuta, Jaehyun and Yeri had a history because they’re ex-lovers.

“Come dance with me” Yuta being the music lover that he is dragged you into the dance floor and made you dance with him. You feel Jaehyun’s eyes follow you even though you were busy dancing under the upbeat music and having fun with Yuta on the dance floor together with the other guests.

Jaehyun on the other hand invited Johnny to smoke tobacco with him. Men with tobaccos stayed in a room where they can play poker peacefully and talk more about business. This is the perfect time Jaehyun thought. The perfect time to tell Johnny about his relationship with you. Seeing you with Yuta was like the push he has been waiting for and now, he’s going to do it.

“Johnny, I love your daughter” he blurted out, holding his tobacco with his right hand.

Johnny chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, “I know right. Crazy how she was just a little girl, felt like only yesterday. Can’t believe she’s running her own business right now and being successful” he smiled, taking a hit on his tobacco.

“That’s all true, but that’s not what I meant” the atmosphere was quiet even though Jaehyun and Johnny are away from the other men. “Were in love Johnny. We’ve been together for ten beautiful months now”

Johnny was speechless and he wanted to punch Jaehyun on the face right then and there, but this is his party. He can’t cause a scene. Johnny is a powerful man, he can ruin anyone and he’s well aware of that. So instead of causing a scene, he fixed his rings and told Jaehyun that, “You’re a well-established businessman Jaehyun. I think you don’t need me anymore as a partner and… best friend. Stay away from my daughter” he pats Jaehyun on the shoulder and made his way back to the party again to find you.

“Can I dance with my daughter, Yuta?” your father smiled at you and took you dancing. You saw Jaehyun sit beside Yeri, smiling so beautifully and making each other smile. “Oh look at my best friend, I’m happy they got back together” it was a lie that Johnny had to made up to ruin your relationship with Jaehyun and also his way to find out if Jaehyun is telling the truth.

Johnny saw the sadness in your eyes, that’s when he confirmed it. “How about you? Yuta looks like a fine man who’s been around. Give him a shot? After all, The Suh and Nakamoto company looks good merging” it was clear that he was suggesting you to marry Yuta someday because of business and you hate it. But you smile and joked nonetheless.

“Arranging me for marriage dad?”

“Psh. No. I’m just showing you a choice. Yuta is a good person, comes from a good family, and-“

“And I’m not in love with him” your dad knew he had to shut up.

You thought that the party will not stress you out and you will have a great time but the opposite happened. Now, you just hope that Jaehyun will turn everything around remove the stress away. But no. He was silent when you got home and didn’t welcome you with kisses that you oh so crave by this time. You went separately, of course, he was the first one who got home but he’s still wearing the same clothes he wore from the party when you found him in the living room drinking hard liquor.

The dress is beautiful, but you wanted to get out of it because it reminds you what your father just told you about marrying Yuta. Soon, Jaehyun joined you in your shared walk-in closet but he’s still silent.

“You didn’t tell me you were going with Yuta. Baby, I was hurt. I wanted to dance with you so bad but-“

“You should’ve danced with Yeri” you blurted out. “She was beautiful Jae, you just let her sit in the table all night. Did you even offered to take her home?”

“Why would I do that, we're together” he watches you unzip the beautiful dress and expose yourself in front of him with only the lingerie that you’re wearing. “Okay sorry I was overreacting” he leans on the door, shoulders crossed, and his bow tie is already undone. “But I told Johnny about us earlier”

You were speechless and disappointed, you scoffed and you can’t believe he did that. “Well you look disappointed” Jaehyun was hurt, he thought you would be happy that he finally had the guts to man up and tell your father the truth.

“I am! Because you decided all by yourself. You didn’t talk about this with me. No wonder my father was acting weird”

“What, do you want to hide forever Y/n? I’m doing this for us. Don't you want to get married and have kids someday?” by this time both of your tones towards each other were a little higher than usual.

“I know your intentions Jae, but it's not yet the right time. I want to have a family and kids with you but not now. I’m just starting to build my life. Come on Jae, you sound like you’re proposing to me now“ you still sound disappointed.

He thought that getting married will make you happy, but now it’s clear to him that he’s wrong. “Maybe I am”

“Well, then I have to say no for now” that was like a bullet straight to his heart. It was like saying ‘Jaehyun, I can’t marry you because you’re too old. Wait for me to get older, then we’ll talk about marriage’ He ignored what you said.

“Wha did johnny told you?” his eyes were cold, there’s no sign of spark in it.

“He said you were back with, Yeri” you were removing your makeup at the bathroom with only your robe covering your naked body.

“That’s bullshit, my own best friend” Jaehyun sounded irritated you can here drawers closing loudly because clearly, he’s not happy that Johnny bad mouthed him in front of you.

“I know its not true, Jae. He was just saying that because he’s concerned and I don’t know, protecting me?”

“Huh? Protecting you from what Y/n? Were together for almost a year now tell me, am I treating you bad? Can you say that you’re in bad hands?” it was not a question. You knew so you didn’t answer.

This is your first fight with Jaehyun and this is the first night that you shared the bed without facing each other. Tonight he lost his best friend, and he can't afford to lose you too. But he was stern. He still wants to make your relationship public and be engaged soon. He not forcing it but you know he wants it real bad.

If last night you fought for the first time, this morning Jaehyun didn’t feel your kisses woke him up for the first time since you two were together. That simple gesture makes Jaehyun happy first thing in the morning and now that you didn’t do it for the first time, it felt like you’re going to leave him soon.

The same argument went on for days, even you don’t know how to fix this problem but still, life goes on. Jaehyun tried having makeup sex with you but you just let him fuck you and it never fixes things. He was so desperate and he was trying so hard to bring back everything but it was not easy. All he ever wanted was to make you stay in his life. But looks like the relationship is ruined.

Finally, he realized a sad truth. Sooner or later he has to let go of you even though he loves you wholeheartedly. When Jaehyun first mentioned the breakup you were furious and mad, “I’m like this Jaehyun because I don’t know how to fix it but I never wanted to break up! But you! How dare you to even make it an option!” of course you didn’t want to break up with the man you love, being not on the same page for now in the relationship is not enough reason to just throw everything away.

“I can’t give you the life that you want Y/n, we continuously hurt each other every day I can’t hurt you furthermore. We can’t be together anymore” he was so calm and you can’t understand how does he do that.

The perfect love story you thought is now ending with tragedy. How can loving Jaehyun become so wrong? But he was right, sooner or later reality will slap you hard and the truth will not be on your side. Loving Jaehyun was something you will never regret doing, but it was wrong because he was your father’s best friend, you two can’t seem to find your way back to each other now.

As you finally agreed to the breakup, moving out of Jaehyun’s house was a fucking torture. You see to it that you get all your stuff during his working hours so he could enjoy the heartbreak that he singlehandedly decided for the both of you. It was a great relationship that deserved a peaceful breakup.

Jaehyun went home on an empty house and it broke his heart to million pieces. Pictures of you and him scattered around the house and letting go of you is life-changing for him in a bad way. Together with the happy memories that you left in his house is the necklace that he gave and every cute note he gave to you whenever he needed to leave the house before you can even wake up. It’s as if you wanted everything to stay in his house, keep everything hidden like it always has, like you and Jaehyun never happened in the first place.

Jaehyun married Yeri a year after your breakup and the news broke you. Deep inside you were still clinging to the chance of getting back with Jaehyun and turn everything around but you’re wrong. No one knew about your relationship except Johnny. That’s good. You don’t need to explain yourself to people.

As years went by, you decided to build your life with Yuta and love him fiercely without worries, without hiding, you told him about Jaehyun and he didn’t judge you not even a bit. The wedding made the news of two companies merging, and the whole country celebrated.

Years after your wedding, you were at the record store buying lullabies for babies so you can listen to it and hope that your daughter can hear it. You’re seven months pregnant with Yuta’s baby and you’re excited to be a mother.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice called your name and you’re too scared to turn your back and face him but you don’t have a choice.

And you’re right. You haven’t seen him since the breakup and he was like a ghost to you now. He hasn’t changed a bit. After four years, you’re now in front of Jung Jaehyun with a baby on your belly and a wedding ring on your finger.

#nct-writers #nct smut #nct angst #nct jung jaehyun smut #jaehyun smut #nct x reader #jaehyun angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #jaehyun x reader smut

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solomonish · 4 years ago

Text

selfless (to a fault?) [nowdateables]

CW: allusions to past toxic relationships.

brothers here!

Diavolo

So. Diavolo might not notice right away. It’s not ignorance! He’s just very busy, and public appearances are important to keep up, so one of the ways he keeps up with you happens to be exactly what you have trouble accepting. Large bouquets sent to the House of Lamentation when you’re there, a word sent out to any of his staff out where you may be to make your life easier however possible (Mammon tries to tag along with you all the time, hoping to hear the magic words: “His highness has graciously waived the fee for all exchange students’ purchases today!”) - and he’s not even there to see the way your smile looks a little more like a grimace, or the way you stare uncomfortably at the little gift.

He seems to love that you are so willing to try and help him out - even if there isn’t much you can do, since he handles a lot of sensitive documents and information. But, considering he’s so lonely, when it comes to reciprocating he sort of follows your lead?

He knows, on a surface level, how to be in a relationship, but considering you’re a human AND he doesn’t have a lot of interpersonal relationships for practice...he sort of follows your lead, and hopes your way of giving love is the same as your way of receiving.

You’ll have to bring it up to him, which is a nerve-wracking experience on its own, eased only by the fact that you know Diavolo has done his best to make sure you KNOW you can bring up any issues you have. He is very good at opening his ears to you and helping you problem solve, and when dealing with the things he cares about (yes, YOU) he is very direct about problem solving.

The moment you stand before him, Diavolo notices the way you fidget with your hands and almost refuse to look at him directly. He immediately stops what he’s doing, putting everything down and turning in his seat. If he’s at his desk, he gestures for you to come to his side and asks you directly - “What’s wrong?”

It seems terrible to directly accuse the prince of wanting to manipulate you, so instead you ask, “What did you want in exchange for those gifts?” And for a moment, he does not know what you are talking about. First of all, WHICH gifts, there’s so many, and secondly did he come across as wanting something in return other than your happiness?

No matter what he was doing before, he will set aside all of the time he needs to at least start to communicate to you that he has no ulterior motives with his gifts to you. If you’d like him to stop with such blatant displays of affection, he will, but it’s more important to him that you know he is only trying to communicate how he feels when he cannot do it directly.

Barbatos

This is a relationship where you might have to bring it up before you even start dating. Either that or he WILL get a hint before then. He’s a butler! Not only is he normally serving other people, he is a master at standing in the back and watching people. He notices the way you awkwardly hold your tea cup after he gives it to you, or decline anything that he offers you when given the chance. It just comes up by nature of who he is.

Before he is interested in pursuing a relationship, he simply brushes it off as the unfamiliarity of having someone wait on you. Perhaps you’re particularly independent, or you just never really are in a situation where someone waits on you like he does. Either way, it isn’t really much of his business.

But...it is very obvious in a relationship. He just...defaults to helping others. Sure, he knows how to separate work and his personal life (though, to be fair, there is not much of a “personal life” there with how much time work takes up, so maybe that needs to be revisited. some day...) but even with that separation he enjoys providing solutions for people and helping out. It brings him joy to help make your life a little easier if he can help, and it’s something he’s good at.

Still, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he definitely doesn’t want to make you think that he’s treating you the way he treats people as a job. If he wanted to, he could most likely peer into different timelines or even into your past, try to figure out what’s bothering you...but he knows better than to creep into places you haven’t explicitly told him you want him. Besides, communication is important, and this seems a prime opportunity to put that to use.

So he asks you one day when you visit him at the castle, after he notices your hesitation to respond to him when he offers to help you with something you were complaining about. “Why does it make you uncomfortable when I offer my assistance to you?”

You freeze for a moment. “Wouldn’t you be able to find that out on your own?” “Would you like me to?” “...no, not really.”

He isn’t one to press you for information, or to ask a thousand times if you know he’d never use any of his attempts to make your life in the Devildom easier against you. Barbatos will listen to what you have to say intently and do his best to mesh to what you think you’re most comfortable with. He does intend to help you accept help as much as he can, but it’ll be so subtle you’ll hardly even notice. With the little amount of time he already gets with you, he’s already practiced in making the most of it - what’s one more little task to the greatest butler in all the realms?

Solomon

See, this is a relationship that doesn’t necessarily depend on the whole “acts of kindness” thing. (Like, it does to the same degree any relationship does, but considering I think you’d both be pretty independent people and the helping each other aspect normally comes from things you’re doing together anyway. If that makes sense.)

Still, he does notice how...surprised you look when he surprises you with a flashy spell he learned, or when he hears you complaining about your course load or Lucifer’s expectations for you. You decline every single offer he gives you to help, and you never look as happy as he hopes you will when he shows you his spells. (Depending on what stage you are at in the relationship, how is he supposed to impress you if you never want him to do things for you !!!)

However, he is accustomed to holding information close to his chest, and he isn’t always the best at asking about people’s emotions. So, even though sometimes you jump at the opportunity to help him collect ingredients for potions or find one book in massive libraries or craft things for enchantments and spells but you REFUSE to let him help you study for a class he could pass without even listening to one of the lectures, he silently suffers and hopes you’ll breach the subject on your own.

Which you do. Kinda. He’s trying to convince you to let him help you with paying back the debts of one of Mammon’s schemes he dragged you into - figuring two bodies on the job will get it done faster and, in turn, he can have more time with you later - but he makes the mistake of rationalizing it with, “Well, since you help me out so much, maybe I could-”

“Don’t! Don’t...say that. We don’t owe each other anything.” You give him a tight smile that’s OBVIOUSLY fake. “I help you because I want to.”

“And I want to help you. Why won’t you let me? What’s up?”

The conversation is...uncomfortable. Solomon isn’t the best at handling vulnerability. But he doesn’t judge you for a second, and he gets the fear that you have in the back of your mind. Especially since people keep telling you not to trust him and that he’s shady...this relationship is pretty dependent on a thorough trust between the two of you. But he doesn’t mind proving himself a little more, so long as you’ll be gracious enough to give him a chance.

Simeon

Simeon is really good at vibing out somebody’s boundaries and comforts. Call it angelic intuition, but he also has a feeling about you that makes a little too much sense when he notices how you shy away from any offers of assistance.

A little thinking, and suddenly the way you stretch yourself thing to help the brothers at any moment makes a lot of sense too. (And, of course, he is pleased to know everyone considers everyone to be family. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t two main causes!)

Angels naturally want to ease the strife of the humans they come across, and even though Simeon knows that it might make you uncomfortable, he finds himself unknowingly putting you in awkward positions with how often he reaches out to make your life easier.

Bringing you homework that you missed, being your escort when the brothers are busy, buying you lunch just because - he’s a bit of a sweetheart and it’s in his blood to do these things, and he only remembers how it hurts you when you uncomfortably shift before taking the only option he’s given you - accept what you don’t want.

He sits you down one day, letting you know it’s bound to be a healing conversation between the two of you. Fortunately, he has a knack for making you feel comfortable and safe, so he has a slightly easier time getting you to pen up to him.

The moment you even hint at him having ulterior motives, you feel stupid. Even when he assures you that it’s alright, saying it out in the open feels...wrong. That doesn’t shake the feeling or ease your fears, but it does make addressing things a bit easier.

Simeon has no problem helping to draft a plan for re-affirming your trust in genuine love and kindness. He also inserts himself directly into the plans - what, you thought he wouldn’t? Simeon will remind you what it feels like to be cared for with no expectation of return. don’t get him wrong though, he’ll take a lil kiss or something if u want...

Luke

You can’t say no to him. Unfortunately, he bakes a LOT and he is all too eager to be your personal guard dog guardian angel.

When you do decide to let him know why you look so uncomfortable when he tries to do something for you (giving him an abridged version, of course) - and he, in all his energy, does not seem to get the hint to STOP ASKING - you can see him literally just chill out. One minute he’s vibrating with pure energy and the next he’s just. Still.

He half wants to get indignant on you, but he knows that’s not a good response. Instead he just sort of stands there, watching you for a minute, until he blurts out with zero grace - “What would I even have to do that for??”

He realizes it’s a terrible response the moment it comes out of his mouth, but you seem to be okay with it if your awkward chuckle is anything to go with. Luke starts pouting just a little bit, more upset with himself that he’s completely failing at handling this situation. “I’m just nice to you because you’re nice and you deserve it. There’s nothing else to it.”

He’s a sweet boy, and he doesn’t wanna lose his favorite taste-tester. He’s got the spirit.

185 notes · View notes

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.”

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#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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