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strawberrynamjoon · 4 years

Text

awkwardly in love

– pairing: jeongguk & reader

– genre: college, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, fluff, humor

– word count: 20k

– summary: even if everything changed, yours and jeongguk’s friendship would always stay the same - at least you thought so. but jokes on you, cupid had other plans for the two of you, making you reconsider everything you thought you knew about your best friend of twelve years.

Disclaimer: This fic is not proof read because I was way too lazy. You’ll most likely find a few mistakes here and there, I am sorry!

When you thought of Jeongguk you felt a lot of different feeling – the first one coming to your mind was pride. Honestly, how couldn’t you proud of your friendship that has lasted for such a long time? After growing up your friendship wasn’t as close as it used to be back then, when you were still in the same class, sitting next to each other for eight hours straight every single day but you still were trying to meet whenever your schedules would allow it - Jeongguk was your top priority and you were his.

By now, there were other people both of you talked to more often though – while he’d spend his daily life with friends like Jimin and Taehyung now, you did the same with your new won friends like Namjoon. It was only a natural process, considering the fact that you were majoring in different subjects, not sharing any classes anymore. But still, you luckily managed to maintain your special friendship that, no matter how close you were with other people, no one else could ever have. And if that wasn’t something to make you proud than you wouldn’t know what could.

Another emotion was nostalgia. Both of you had come a long way, from two children playing with mud in the backyard to two young adults, about to start their own life. The little kids that seemed to be so different back then but deep down were as similar as could be were now growing up, clinging to each other because they were afraid of what was about to come.

You’d scoff every time you thought back to those simple days, knowing exactly how cliche it sounded when you said that things were way easier back then. But they truly were. You had nothing other to worry about than your meaningless crushes or convincing your parents to let you stay out longer than usual. Nevertheless, it was nice to think that your friendship would always savor a bit of that innocent naiveness you used to have.

Like said before, you felt a thousand different emotions when thinking of Jeongguk but not a single bad one. Well, at least until now.

“What do you mean?” you asked Jimin, who was looking at you in surprise when you stood in front of the door to his, Taehyung’s and Jeongguk’s shared dorm, “He’s where exactly?”

Panic was written over Jimin’s face, not wanting to be involved, “He left an hour ago, meeting up with a girl from tinder.”

You knew this was not Jimin’s fault and you didn’t want him to feel conflicted so you simply clenched your jaw while taking a deep breath, “This goddamn jerk.”

The blonde, and also very cute guy let out a chuckle, his head nodding in agreement, “Couldn’t have said it better. Do you want to come in and wait for him?”

Thinking about it for a second, you sighed, “How long does it usually take for him to get back?”

“You’re asking me about his stamina?” Jimin seemed amused, taking a step to the side so you could enter their dorm, “He’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Laughing, you walked inside and took off your jacket. Looking around, the living room was just as messy as Jeongguk’s room at home used to be – some things never seem to change.

“Do you want tea? A cup of coffee?” your best friend’s roommate offered, already standing in the open kitchen space, looking for a clean mug before turning around to you, raising his eyebrows, “I have some vodka too if you’d prefer that.”

“Don’t worry about me, it’s Jeongguk who should be worried,” you shrugged as you let yourself fall down on the big couch, feeling bitter.

“Don’t be too harsh on him,” Jimin replied with a chuckle while making you a coffee even though you told him he didn’t have to, “His hormones are going crazy at the moment.”

Scoffing, you shook your head in disbelief, “I thought this phase was over.”

You got your phone out, wondering if Jeongguk maybe texted you but there was nothing – so you called him.

Without having to wait long, he rejected your call.

“Oh no, you did not,” you mumbled under your breath, dialing his number again, making Jimin let out a laugh as he sat down on the couch beside you.

And once again, he rejected it.

“Let me try it,” Jimin proposed, as he called him and much to your surprise, he picked up.

“What is it?” Jeongguk asked on the other line of the phone, out of breath and sounding beyond annoyed, “Why is everyone calling me?”

Jimin laughed, “You sure sound like you’re having fun.”

“I’m trying to,” he answered and you could picture his stupid grin just by hearing the tone of his voice, “But I keep getting distracted.”

“You little piece of shit,” you took Jimin’s phone in your hand, “I didn’t deal with your stupid ass for twelve years just for this.”

First, there were a few seconds of silence, a clearly confused Jeongguk thinking hard about who that voice belonged to and why he was being screamed at.

“(Y/n)?” he asked unsure, “Why are you with Jimin? When did this happen? Are you on a date?”

“Nothing happened,” you immediately shut him down, “Except for you standing me up.”

“Oh god, shit,” was all you heard, “I completely forgot. I’ll be home in an hour or so. You can stay or I’ll come over to yours later. Whatever you prefer.”

Before you could think about what to do he interrupted your thoughts, “I am so sorry, I truly am.”

“It’s okay, I’ll keep her company until you come back,” Jimin interrupted your light discussion, “But you better hurry, I know you get jealous when we spend to much time with her.”

“That’s not true,” your best friend insisted, “No one of you could ever replace me anyway, even if you married her I would still be her number one.”

“Now you’re just overconfident,” you nagged him, “Jimin already told me your stamina isn’t the best so just hurry up and come home.”

And with that, before he could say anything else, you hung up, Jimin’s eyes growing wide, “He’ll kill me.”

Laughing, you shook your head, “Won’t let him, don’t worry. The only head that will roll today is his.”

It took Jeongguk exactly 56 minutes to come back and, judging by the sweat on his forehead, he either ran his way back or he had a wild night. And by god, you hoped it was the first one.

Obviously, you were aware that Jeongguk was in college and that he definitely wasn’t living a prude life, neither did you, however, your sex life was about the only topic you two barely talked about.

Jogging over to the couch a moment later, your sweaty best friend embraced you in a bear hug, his arms wrapped around your neck, pushing your face onto his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, ruffling your hair, “It’ll never happen again.”

“It better won’t,” you had fight yourself out of his grip to be able to breathe, disgusted by the thought of his sweat on you, “You’re lucky Jimin was here to keep me company. “

He gave Jimin, who was just about to go to his room, a thankful smile, “Thank you, I owe you one.”

“You’re good, don’t worry about it,” Jimin almost scoffed, “Much fun, you two lovebirds.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you diverted your attention to Jeongguk, “Had a good time at least?”

His ears turned red in an instant, even though he wasn’t the young wallflower he used to be anymore there still was a shy side to him, “I would’ve had more fun spending the last hour with you if I am honest.”

Chuckling, you grabbed the remote next to him, ready to search for a movie to watch, “I didn’t know you’re such a playboy. Jimin told me things I certainly didn’t want to know. You better use protection, I am not ready to become an aunt yet, Guk.”

He gave you a death glare, “Don’t jinx anything, (y/n).”

Jeongguk got up to close the blinds even though it was dark outside already, making his way to the small kitchen that was part of the living room, looking into a fridge that had nothing more than an unreasonable amount of beer and one lonely bottle of milk stored inside, “How hungry are you?”

Glancing over to him, you let out a scoff, “God, I’ll force you all to go grocery shopping with me tomorrow. How are you surviving in this household?”

He laughed, shrugging his shoulders lightly, “Solely on beer as you can see.”

Walking back over to you he held two cans of beer in his hand, handing you one as he let himself fall down on the couch right beside you. It was completely dark, the TV being the only source of light in the whole room.

You loved nights like these, only you and Jeongguk watching movies, eating, talking about anything coming to your mind - it was easy being his friend, it always has been.

After all those years you spent together you were sure no one knew him like you did. And it was a fact that he also knew you better than any other soul walking on this earth.

While you were deciding on what to watch, your friend was on his phone about to order some pizza for the two of you.

You were sitting with your legs crossed on the middle of the couch, Jeongguk right beside you, in a weird position somewhere between lying down and sitting, his upper body was straight, his back resting lightly against your shoulder as his legs were spread out on the couch.

“Here, it’s kinda cold,” he threw you a blanket that was lying around, not paying much attention to you as he was still looking for what food to order, mumbling, “But cover me too, don’t use it all for yourself.”

Covering both of you under the blanket, just as he instructed you to, you felt way more comfortable immediately, excited to finally spend some time with your best friend again. He still used the same cologne he always did, ever since middle school, the scent bringing you back to your teenage years every single time.

He let out a small giggle when he heard your stomach growl, “Don’t worry, food is on its way.”

“Thank god, I’m starving,” you confessed, not even being able to remember what you had for breakfast today.

“It’s not like that, by the way,” Jeongguk’s voice was quiet and your mind was trying to figure out what exactly wasn’t like what. You threw him a questioning glance, letting him know you had no idea what he meant.

“Whatever Jimin said, I’m not a playboy or anything like that,” he bit his lip nervously, making you chuckle immediately - it was almost cute to see him like that, “I just want a girlfriend.”

Wherever the sudden urge came from, Jeongguk clearly wanted to talk to you about his feelings, not knowing where to start.

It’s a rather rare experience to hear him talk about them, usually, he’s the bubbly and funny boy from next door everyone loves, no one ever saw him in a bad or thoughtful mood except for the ones closest to him.

“As if thousands of girls aren’t lining up, all waiting for their turn to impress the Jeon Jeongguk,” you playfully rolled your eyes, making him exhale a breathy laugh, “I know at least three or four girls who’d be down to make you the happiest man alive.”

Sometimes you wondered if Jeongguk wasn’t aware of his good looks - even you, as his best friend, would lie if you said you didn’t check him out before. It was still a miracle to you how the small, shy boy grew up into such a handsome young man, who not only had muscles and a flawless face but also a fitting, loving personality too.

“You know yourself that I tried dating but I’m not very good at it,” he confessed, a pout forming on his lip.

His head was resting on your shoulder, the frustrated sigh coming from him amusing you - not that you wanted to make fun of him, it was just funny to see how he goes from a confident guy to a shy baby, “You’re good at everything you try.”

Laughing, he glanced up at you from his position, “Thanks for the ego boost.”

“Not like you need it,” you nagged him, scrunching your nose, “just don’t rush yourself, Guk.”

“What about you, though?” he suddenly changed the topic, sitting back up to look at you better, “How’s your dating life going?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shrugged, “It’s as uninteresting as ever.”

“Nothing going on between you and Namjoon?” he playfully pinched your cheek, as if he could ever get any information out of you by acting cute, “I swear, he was flirting with you at your birthday party.”

“Never,” you gave him a death glare, not believing he brought Namjoon up again, “Even the chances of you and me falling in love are bigger than me and Namjoon ending up together.”

“You say this as if it would be super weird for us to be dating,” Jeongguk squinted his eyes at you, a bit offended by how fast you opposed to the idea.

“We have been best friends for twelve years,” you countered, giving him a questioning glance, “If anything was supposed to happen between us, it would’ve had by now, don’t you think?”

“I agree but everyone always thinks we’re into each other anyway, so what I tried to say was that the possibility of us being a good couple probably isn’t as little as we’d think.”

Both of you had no idea why you suddenly were trying to find out how high the possibilites of you to being a strong were couple but here you were, weighing the pros and cons of a hypothetical relationship.

Giving it a short thought, he kind of had a point. You never ever before thought about what it would be like to date Jeongguk for you - of course not, there were clear lines between the two of you, no one ever even dared to think about crossing them.

After all the years you spent together, Jeongguk was never anything else than a friend towards you, not even a single thought crossing your mind what kind of boyfriend he’d be.

“I see what you’re saying,” you admitted, deep in thoughts, “I guess it’s because we’ve been friends for so long, we already know everything about each other.”

“Exactly,” Jeongguk agreed with you once again, “We’re just so comfortable around each other and know how to deal with the other person. It’s not like I’m saying we should date but from a logical point of view, it could work. Technically.”

“In theory, yes,” you nodded, “but the possibility of me killing you because you chew way too loud is just too high for it to work out.”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, “You have very weird standards.”

You gave your best friend a warm smile, a sudden rush of appreciation coming over you, “It’s nice having you in my life, Guk.”

Immediately, he threw the same warm smile back at you, always appreciating such heartfelt moments between you even though they didn’t come around often - you obviously didn’t have to tell each other how much you cherished your friendship, the many years at each other’s side speaking for themselves, “I know, I know. Your life would be pretty boring without me.”

“Way to ruin such a pure moment,” rolling your eyes, you let out a laugh, flicking his forehead lightly, “I take it back, you’re an absolute shithead.”

Pouting, he rubbed the spot where you flicked him, “You’re so aggressive, I don’t want to date you anymore.”

Something about Jeongguk joking about you and him as more than friends made you feel excited and you instantly tried to get rid of the thought, not wanting to get caught up in such a stupid idea, especially not if that idea involves Guk.

But deep inside, you couldn’t help but waste a few more thoughts about what it actually would be like to date your best friend, feeling immediate heat rushing to your cheeks for having such inappropriate thoughts.

“Well, good for you because that would literally never happen,” you shook your head, hoping he would stop with that nonsense.

Almost as if he knew what effect it had on you, he grinned amused, “I bet you’re thinking about it right now.”

“Just be quiet and watch a movie with me,” you begged him, obviously not wanting to continue this conversation but still feeling like you should comfort him, after all, he tried to talk about his feelings with you a few minutes ago, “Your lonely ass will find a girlfriend, don’t worry about it.”

“Will she be able to down a whole bottle of wine within fifteen minutes though?” he asked amused, referring to the many nights the two of you shared with several bottles of wine, getting drunk secretly in the back of your garden. Luckily by now, you didn’t have to do it in secret anymore, many nights ending with more emptied bottles on the tables than you’d like to admit, “If not, she’s not worth my time and attention.”

“I doubt anyone can keep up with our alcoholic asses,” you laughed, “It took years of training and acting sober in front of our parents to get to this level.”

Jeongguk joined your laughter, nodding in agreement, “I’m pretty sure they knew we were drunk of our asses each and every time.”

“What do you mean?” you asked sarcastically, “There’s no way your mother figured it out when we called her at three in the morning, asking her to pick us up because we didn’t know where we were and we both lost our shoes.”

Jeongguk burst out into laughter one more time at the cherished memory he almost forgot, “I remember her asking me if there is something I recognize around us so she could figure out where we are and I told her the moon.”

Facepalming yourself slightly, a few giggles escaped your mouth, “God, we were so young. And sloppy.”

Your friend's arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug, “And basically glued to each other by our hips.”

Chuckling, you leaned into his hug, your head lazily resting on your best friend's chest, “No wonder our parents used to think we were in love, judging by the time we spent together.”

“I’m pretty sure they still believe that,” Jeongguk let out a sigh, “My mother still calls you her daughter-in-law whenever she talks about you.”

It was the same for you - in your parents' eyes, you were destined to marry the boy from next door ever since they first met him. Primarily because your parents got along so well, they always romanticized the idea of their children making them become an actual family but looking back at it now, you understood why they always wanted you to become a couple - it would be a good love story after all.

Back then the two of you hated how often you got told that you would make a cute couple. By now the two of you kind of grew used to the speculations around you, not paying attention to them anymore.

“My parents still thought we were in love even when I dated Lucas,” you shook your head in disbelief.

Immediately, Jeongguk made a vomiting noise beside you, acting as if he was about to throw up, “No mention of this name in my flat.”

Laughing at his dramatic acting, you playfully boxed his side, “He wasn’t that bad, you just never gave him a chance.”

Scoffing, he acted offended, “You started walking to school with him instead of me. That was enough for me to resent him.”

You sat up, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I can’t believe you still won’t let this go, I apologized a thousand times.”

Breaking his act immediately, his arms were pulling you into the same side hug again as before, “I’m kidding, I could never be mad at you.”

Before he could say anything else, your playful conversation was interrupted by the doorbell, Jeongguk immediately jumping up from the couch to get your food. You never were more thankful for someone interrupting your movie nights, finally having time to gather your thoughts.

The two of you never flirted, at least you wouldn’t consider your playful conversations flirting - everyone around you certainly thought you were flirting but you knew it was very easy to mistake your lighthearted, nagging jokes and platonic casual displays of affection every now and then. You still remember the first times you met Taehyung and Jimin, having to convince them several times that there was no romantic tension between you at all - and honestly, there wasn’t.

Like Jeongguk said earlier, you’re just comfortable around each other because you know the other person like the back of your hand. And just because you were horny college students that sometimes felt a bit flirtatious with each other, nothing would change. You’d always be just friends. Right?

A few moments later, you and Jeongguk were shoveling pizza in your mouth as the intro of the horror movie you decided to watch was on, the first few cans of beer already emptied. He was sitting closer to you than necessary, but you knew that Jeongguk’s concept of personal space was almost nonexistent.

“Put your goddamn phone on silent,” he whispered warningly with his eyes glued to the screen as he heard it vibrate, “Tell Namjoon that it’s my turn to spend time with you.”

You chuckled at Jeongguk’s comment, it wasn’t a big secret that he hated being disturbed while watching a movie, especially not if it was Namjoon. He liked Namjoon a lot, when you first introduced the two each other he told you over and over again that he was way too cool for you but he hated that Namjoon always disturbed you whenever you were having movie nights.

To him, movie nights were his only chance to escape the college life full of exams, stress and due dates for at least a few hours and in those few hours he wanted nothing to burst his bubble, not even a vibrating phone.

Checking your phone, you chuckled when you indeed saw Namjoon’s name on your phone. The unsatisfied glimpse from Jeongguk not going unnoticed, you decided to just put your phone on silent mode, knowing Namjoon wouldn’t mind waiting for an answer.

Halfway through the movie, you were interrupted once again by a bright light from the corridor blinding you as the door to the dorm opened.

Taehyung kicked it open, not able to use his hands like normal people would because they were currently busy, one grabbing the girl on his lips by her waist, pressing her closer than she already was, the other one vanishing in her hair, both not noticing, or maybe just not caring, that you were sitting on the couch just a few meters away.

You knew that Taehyung was doing this ever so often, rumors spread fast in your college, but it still was a weird concept to you - you’d like to claim that you knew Taehyung quite well by now, maybe would even consider him a buddy of yours and the boy had a heart out of pure gold, very emotional and clingy, not only when he was drunk. So him bringing home random girls was still something that simply did not fit in the picture you had of him but then, on the other hand, who wouldn’t want to be with a man as handsome as him?

Jeongguk and you gave each other an annoyed glance, wondering how often you had to endure this again and again.

Taehyung still didn’t notice you, his one foot trying to get rid of the shoe on the other foot, not even thinking about breaking his kiss for a second. The girl was giggling into the kiss as his hand wandered under her shirt, his fingertips tracing her sides.

Jeongguk paused the movie and cleared his throat, making Taehyung finally break free from the kiss, shooting a coy smile towards where you were sitting, “Hey there, how was your date?

The girl you’ve never seen before still clung to his side without even greeting you, placing kisses all over his neck while Taehyung was talking to the two of you.

“It was alright,” Jeongguk said, shrugging, “Nothing special.”

His best friend let out a knowing chuckle, “You always end up on the couch with (y/n) after your failed dates. Call me crazy but maybe it’s fate.”

“Maybe it’s called being friends with someone regardless of the gender,” Jeongguk insisted, shaking his head, “You should try it.”

“As you can see, I’m doing just fine,” he shrugged, pressing his lips back to the girl in front of him, his hands holding her face as he mumbled between their kisses, “Let’s go to my room.”

And with that, the two of them were gone, leaving Jeongguk with nothing more than a scoff, “I’m in need of a new roommate if he keeps on bringing home random girls. They always eat my cereal.”

“If you’re ever out of cereal, remember my dorm is only five minutes away and you’re always welcome.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have said that,” he warned you, “I’ll be in front of your dorm every single morning from now on. Irene will hate you because of me. And you’ll be super annoyed too, but I couldn't care less.”

He wasn’t wrong, even though Irene liked Jeongguk she hated nothing more than talking to anyone early in the mornings, you were the only exception and if you were honest, that was only because she couldn’t kick you out of your dorm, even if she wanted to. What he was wrong about though was the part of you being annoyed - you missed seeing him every single morning, sure you could never be annoyed by his company.

“If you don’t remember, we ate cereal together every single morning before going to school for years,” once again, your trip to memory lane brought excitement to Jeongguk’s eyes, making them sparkle, “And I was never annoyed of you, ever.”

Scrunching his nose in a cute way, he nodded his head, “I bet you were annoyed when I was falling for Leah, you hated her so much and my dumbass couldn’t stop talking about her.”

You raised your eyebrows as the long lost memory came back to your mind, “Yeah, you’re right, I take it back. That was truly annoying. You were so smitten, I wanted to puke.”

Jeongguk repositioned himself, resting his head on your lap with his legs resting on the armrest of their couch, the two dark brown eyes glancing up at your face - you were sure that was the most unflattering position he could look at you from but since it was only Jeongguk you didn’t really care.

A teasing smirk formed on his lips, “Maybe I should hit her up again, who knows what could happen.”

Even though you knew he was only saying this to piss you off, you couldn't help but fall for it, immediately giving him a death glare, “Go, eat cereals at her every morning then if you like her so much.”

Turning on the movie again, Jeongguk’s repositioned himself, his head resting in your lap, “I wouldn’t want to eat cereal with anyone else but you, (y/n).”

Your hand played with his hair, the casual affection making Jeongguk smile, “I sure hope so, I get jealous very easily.”

“I know,” he replied, his eyes glued to the screen, “But you’ll always be my favorite.”

Just as you were about to pull your hair out of your scalp, the frustration growing unbearable because you simply did not understand the text you were supposed to read for class, no matter how many times you started to read a sentence, you saw your phone lighting up, Jeongguk’s name all over it.

“Hey,” you whispered, standing up and gathering all of your things, taking the call as a sign to just stop for today, “I’m in the library, give me a second.”

As you walked out of the big library in the middle of the campus, you were shocked to see that the sun already began to set, embarrassed by how little you managed to learn in such a long amount of time. It was a nice view, the golden hour making the whole campus glow.

“What’s up, Guk?” you asked your best friend, happy to hear his voice. Ever since your movie night last weekend you didn’t manage to talk to him at all, too much on both of your schedules to even text each other.

“I miss you,” his voice sounded whiny on the other side of the line, “What are you doing tonight?”

“Haven’t planned anything,” you admitted, your eyes still glued to the beautiful summer sky, “I thought about going to Namjoon’s to learn a bit more but my head might explode if I open those books one more time.”

“Come to the fair with us,” your best friend proposed, not giving you time to say no because he knew it’d take a bit of convincing to make you go out even though exams are coming closer, “I’ll buy you food. And drinks. And I’ll even accompany you to your next family meeting even though your family is crazy.”

At the last promise, you snorted, knowing that Jeongguk tried to avoid your family as much as possible, “You’d go through such a traumatic experience just so I’ll come to the fair with you. Sounds fishy.”

“Not fishy at all, I am just worried that you’ll drown in your study books if you don’t take a break soon,” he informed you, “You look cute. Let’s go.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean I look cute? Where are you?”

Before he answered you felt an arm wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you closer to the insane man that was your best friend, laughing at how startled you were, “We’re meeting Taehyung and his date in fifteen minutes, we have to hurry up.”

“Taehyung and his what?” you suspiciously asked your best friend, whose arm was still around your shoulder, making it harder for you to walk because you had to adjust to his pace.

Shrugging, Jeongguk you a small smile, “Taehyung and his date. They’re coming too.”

Glancing at him with your eyes squinted, you questioned him, “This sounds like a double date.”

Jeongguk stopped trying to act unsuspiciously, pouting at you, “He begged me to come with him, she didn’t want to meet up all alone with him.”

A long sigh escaped your lips, “And why didn’t you ask someone you’re actually interested in? Why do you have to pull me into this?”

“Hey,” he mumbled a bit offended, “You’re the most interesting person I know.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You know that’s not what I mean, Guk. You could’ve asked any girl to go on a double date with. It’ll be awkward.”

Stopping, Jeongguk turned to you, making you stop to. The setting sun was a good look for him, making his brown eyes sparkle and his tanned skin glow. His long hair was shiny and you decided that you didn’t hate the idea of him growing out his hair anymore, it did look way better than you imagined it could but you wouldn’t admit it to him.

“He wanted to set me up with her friend but I really wasn’t feeling it, so I said I’ll take you,” he looked into your eyes, now he was the one sighing, “But if you don’t want to go that’s fine, I’ll just meet with them alone.”

Giving him yet another death glare in response to his pouting, you forced a smile on your lips, “I want chocolate-covered strawberries.”

Immediately the pout was replaced by a shining smile, his arm linking with yours as he continued walking, “I’ll get you as many as you want, (y/n).”

“And don’t even try to convince me going on any scary rides, I’m not as crazy as you,” you warningly joked, your best friend wearing his happiest smile making you feel just as happy.

The walk to the fair was nice, the sunset making you feel all warm inside, you and Jeongguk catching up with each other. It reminded you of older days, back then when you’d walk home from school together on a daily. Jeongguk hated growing up just as much as you, the constant stress of university taking its toll on both of you, not even daring to think of working a nine-to-five job in a few years. That was probably one of the reasons why spending time with each other felt therapeutic - because together you could easily go back to the times when things were easy and unproblematic.

The fair was pretty crowded but you still managed to spot Taehyung and his date immediately, both of them waiting for you in front of the big entrance, talking comfortably, already a mulled wine in their hands.

“They look good together,” Jeongguk whispered as the two of you slowly approached them and you agreed with him.

“Not like it matters, Taehyung will probably be into someone else next week,” you shrugged.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Jeongguk said, his arm wrapped around your shoulders once again, making sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd - you wondered if it was just your imagination or if he truly did initiate more skinship than usually, “He seems pretty smitten whenever he talks about her.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, surprised to hear that, “Taehyung’s in love, huh?”

Before Jeongguk could answer, you were interrupted by Taehyung spotting you, screaming your names like a mad man. Gesturing wildly, he told you to come over to him.

“Jeongguk, (y/n),” he hugged the two of you, “May I introduce Aleena to you?”

Aleena seemed like a sweet girl, way shorter than Taehyung but still just as fashionable as him, they looked like they came fresh out of Paris together. She was a bit overwhelmed with the situation, you could read in her expression that she wasn’t quite sure how to greet you so you decided to hug her, making her feel more comfortable immediately.

The four of you talked a bit before you started to walk around the fair - it wasn’t the biggest you’ve ever been to but it had its charm, the smell of popcorn in the air and the many flashing lights making you look around, appreciating the beauty of the view. Within the first minute on the fair, Jeongguk already decided that it was time to eat, pulling you to a small cabin on the side, Taehyung and Aleena following you.

“Two waffles, please. One with chocolate, the other one with strawberries,” Jeongguk ordered, “Or do you want something different than strawberries?”

You didn’t expect him to actually pay for you but apparently, he was being serious about it, giving him a small nose scrunch, “Strawberries are perfect.”

Handing you your waffle only seconds later, he pinched your cheek, “You’re very easy to please. Your future boyfriend will have it very easy.”

Aleena glanced at you, confusion was written all over her face, “You’re not dating?”

Jeongguk and you let out a laugh, shaking your heads at the same time before he explained it, “No, we’re not dating.”

“Yet,” Taehyung added, “But everyone is rooting for them.”

“And with everyone, he means himself and our other roommate,” Jeongguk mocked Taehyung, playfully hitting the back of his head.

“You’d make a strong couple though,” Aleena grinned as Taehyung agreed with her, happy that they just won another member for their Fanclub.

“I told her too but she didn’t want to hear anything about it,” Jeongguk joked around, remembering you of the conversation you had last weekend, heat immediately rushing to your cheeks again. You really did your best not to think about it over the last week, doing a decent job until now that he mentioned it once again.

His arm was around your shoulder once again, giving you a teasing smile. He really had to stop with the sudden affection, it only made your head spin. The lines between him and you were always clear and you were afraid they’d start to blur if you keep joking around like that.

Luckily, you weren’t the only one confused, judging by Taehyung’s expression, “What do you mean you told her? What did he say, (y/n)?”

Glaring at Jeongguk, he sneakily looked up to the, by now dark, sky, not answering the question for you even though he was aware of how embarrassed you were. You really didn’t want to think of the conversation and now you had to tell his best friend about it in front of him?

“He was just joking around,” you explained to his best friend, making a mental note to kill Jeongguk as soon as you were alone for putting you in such an uncomfortable situation.

“Joking around about what?” Taehyung asked again, wanting to know what happened.

Jeongguk was having way too much fun, taking your hand in his as if it was the most normal thing in the world, putting your linked hands in the pocket of his jeans jacket so you wouldn’t freeze, “Don’t tell him, he’s too nosy.”

Giving up, the four of you were switching to lighter topics, talking to Aleena about her major and how she met Taehyung. You were surprised by how smitten Taehyung seemed to be, a pleasant surprise of course, wondering if he actually liked her for longer than one night.

“Do you want to let go of my hand?” Jeongguk suddenly whispered for only you to hear as Taehyung and Aleena were standing in line a few meters away from you, getting ice cream.

The way he asked felt a bit awkward and you wondered what was going on inside his head, “No, it’s okay. Just unusual for you.”

Nodding, his glance was avoiding yours, looking at the ice cream truck in front of you, “I just thought if we’d hold hands maybe they’d feel a bit more at ease and Taehyung could try holding hers too, you know?”

Playfully, you poked his side, trying to hide the fact that you almost felt a bit hurt in your pride that Jeongguk just held your hand to make it easier for his friend, “You’re pretty good at holding hands.”

Chuckling, he gave you a small wink, “Thank you, I trained hard. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Your playful banter was interrupted by the voice of a girl, calling Jeongguk’s name. The voice was shrill and loud, startling you.

Both of you looked around to the source of the owner of the voice - it belonged to a girl you’ve never seen before. As she came strutting towards you, Jeongguk let go of your hand, an unreadable expression on his face, you didn’t know if he was nervous or unsettled.

He gave her a small smile, his hand playing with the nape of his hair, “Hi, Jennifer.”

Within seconds she hugged him, almost pushing you to the side while doing so. You wondered who she was and why you’ve never heard her name before. After she let go of Jeongguk, she looked you up and down, clearly not intending to even say hello to you. Wow, what a charming girl she was.

With her attention back to Jeongguk, she tugged a strand of hair that was hanging in his face behind his ears, chuckling, “Your hair is way too long, I told you to cut it, baby.”

Almost vomiting at the way she pronounced her nickname for him you felt the strong urge to suddenly defense the hairstyle you hated so much in the beginning yourself. Something about her was rubbing you the wrong way, most likely the fact that she seemed a bit too close to Jeongguk for the fact that he never mentioned her before. She was probably one of those girls Jimin told you about when you talked to him last weekend.

“Never, it’s a good look,” he insisted with a smirk and you could feel the awkward tension, almost feeling as if you were interrupting them. Were you the one third-wheeling right now? If so, it felt unfair to you - you were here with Jeongguk, not this random girl that you already disliked so much. God, where was Taehyung when you needed him?

“Are you coming over again tomorrow?” she asked him with an innocent expression on her face, “I miss you.”

Jeongguk shrugged, not comfortable to talk about this with her in front of you, “I haven’t decided on my Saturday plans yet, we maybe wanted to go to the cinema, right (y/n)?”

No, you never talked about this before. The cinema wasn’t mentioned once.

Before you could say a word, Taehyung was behind the two of you, wrapping one arm around each of you, “Right, we’re going to the cinema tomorrow. Who is that, Jeongguk?”

Never before were you as thankful as you were for Taehyung than right now, glad he noticed the strange atmosphere and decided to interfere.

“I’m Jennifer,” she told your friend unbothered before talking to Jeongguk again, “You can always come around after the cinema. The real fun begins at night.”

You wanted to gag at her being so intrusive, wondering what exactly Jeongguk saw in her. Of course, you’d always support him but she looked like trouble, not only for Jeongguk but also for your friendship. She intimidated you, almost feeling as if she wanted to steal Jeongguk from you - not that she could, no one could ever make come between the two of you but you still would prefer if no one even tried.

You just had a weird feeling about her, something unsettling in your stomach when she talked to him. It made your stomach turn and your ribcage tighten. Jeongguk never made the best decision but something about her bothered you more than the past lovers Jeongguk had.

And right then, it suddenly clicked. Oh god, no. You weren’t jealous, right? No, you couldn’t be.

Shit, maybe you were. And you wanted to blame Jeongguk for it, his stupid flirting and his sly behavior towards you over the last few weeks. And you also wanted to blame yourself, upset with you, knowing that it was absolutely inappropriate to develop a crush on Jeongguk out of all people.

You were just lonely, you told yourself, taking a deep breath, It’ll pass.

“Jennifer?” Taehyung asked Jeongguk, obviously not liking her neither, and it brought you back to reality, “Weird, you never mentioned that name once.”

You almost felt bad for Jeongguk, sitting between chairs. He didn’t want to be rude towards Jennifer but he knew as good as you and Taehyung that she was being a real bitch right now.

“A gentleman never tells,” Jennifer interjected, playing the same game as Taehyung. Aleena stood beside you by now, scoffing under her breath.

Finally, Jeongguk spoke up, deciding to put an end to the tense situation, “I’ll text you spontaneously, alright?”

Obviously unsatisfied with his short and meaningless empty promise, she gave up and hugged him, not without giving him a kiss on the cheek as she said goodbye and also not missing her chance to glare at you once again.

As soon as she was gone Taehyung hit the back of his head before walking to Aleena, casually linking his hand in hers - at least it was going good for them.

“That hurt,” he yelled at his friend, rubbing the space where he just got hit.

“That hurt? No, what hurt was the way this girl was trying to mark you as her territory,” Taehyung insisted, shaking his head in disbelief to what he just had to see.

Jeongguk let out a long sigh, nodding in defeat, “I promise she’s usually not that bad. I don’t know what has gotten into her.”

Aleena let out a chuckle, “I think she felt a bit threatened by the pretty girl by your side.”

You didn’t even pay attention to their conversation, trapped inside your own thoughts. Somehow it was hard to swallow the fact that you thought that Jeongguk was flirting with you but then immediately let go of your hand as soon as another girl walks by. Holding his hand felt a bit too natural to you, your hands fitting a bit too well in each others’. And god, you wanted to hold it again.

When the others stopped walking, a worried Jeongguk was already staring at you but you ignored him, inspecting the Ferris wheel in front of you.

“We have to go,” Taehyung insisted, his hand still linked with Aleena’s - it was nice to see his eyes sparkling for once when he was looking at a girl, “It wouldn’t be a real fair date if we didn’t, no matter how cliche it is.”

Aleena let out a sigh, “Taehyung, I’m absolutely afraid of heights.”

Chuckling, he hugged her from the back, “You just say that so I’ll hold you.”

“If I die I will absolutely take you to hell with me,” she warned him, starting to line up for the Ferris wheel. You stood right behind them in line, their backs turned to you.

Jeongguk’s hands found your shoulders so you had no other choice than to look at him, “Will you do me the favor and accompany me?”

“I don’t know, Guk,” you told him, carefully removing his hands from your shoulders and his eyes turned soft as he heard you using your nickname, happy you weren’t mad at him, “Isn’t it a bit awkward? It’s a thing lovers do.”

Giving you a teasing smirked, he shrugged, “Why? Are you afraid I’ll make a move on you?”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at his shameless flirting. You know him well enough to be aware of the fact that he was just trying to make you let loose again and it worked but your mind still was preoccupied with the previous encounter.

“Or are you afraid that you can’t control yourself up there, all alone with me?” he added, the playful smirk on his face grew bigger and bigger, more than satisfied when he finally made you laugh even though you hit his chest while doing so.

“You’re terrible,” you glared at him, trying to stay serious but not able to hide the smile sitting in the corner of your mouth, “Now I’m definitely not going.”

He reached out to put his arm around your shoulder for a second but stopped himself, not knowing if you’d be okay with it - he noticed that you were not comfortable, “I can’t believe you’re going to make me go alone. I thought it was you and me against the world.”

“I never said that,” you insisted.

Letting out a scoff, Jeongguk gawked at you with his eyes wide open, “Excuse me, I thought it was our unspoken rule. I can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”

Shrugging, you played along, “All those years spend with you never meant anything to me.”

Holding his hand above his heart, he acted like it was hurting, a small ‘ouch’ escaping his lips. Right before you, it was Taehyung’s and Aleena’s turn to sit down, both of them mustering you with a teasing smile, Taehyung not being able to hide his sneaky comments, “Much fun. Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

Jeongguk sat down in the wagon behind them, stretching out his hand, waiting for you with puppy eyes, “Please, don’t let me ride alone.”

With a long sigh, you took his hand and he rapidly pulled you close to him, making you stumble a bit, falling right into your best friend's arm, sharing an awkward hug - but it made Jeongguk happy so it was alright.

Happily, he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close to him. Normally, you’d enjoy the affection but you couldn't stop thinking about how fast he let go of your hand when Jennifer came into the picture and how much you wanted him to hold it again.

Jeongguk wasn’t stupid or blind, he has known you a bit too long to not realize what was bothering you. He also knew that he had to address it as soon as possible because otherwise, you wouldn’t stop thinking about it at all. And he wanted you to stop thinking about it asap because to him, Jennifer meant nothing. And you meant everything.

You felt terrible childish for being so affected by such a small thing. The two of you were friends too long for you to be worried about some random girl he didn’t even think was important enough to mention coming in between you. Scanning the view of the fair as the Ferris wheel slowly moved upwards, your stomach dropped and you knew it was not because you suddenly were afraid of heights.

“(Y/n)?” your best friend asked carefully, his tone sweet.

After you hummed in response, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling shy, “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

Knowing exactly what he meant but not knowing how to respond, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, “What do you mean?”

Daring to look at you again, the apologetic expression in his eyes made weak in an instant, “About some girl thinking it would be okay to cut between us like that.”

Shrugging, you played it cool, knowing he wasn’t at fault, “It’s okay, I guess she was just trying to make sure that we’re not getting too close for her liking.”

With furrowed eyebrows, he shook his head, “If she thinks she could get between us she must be a fucking idiot.”

Laughing, you wholeheartedly agreed with him, “She wouldn’t be the first one to try.”

He gave you a nose scrunch before ruffling his hand through your hair - he knew how much you hated it when he did that but he would never stop, enjoying teasing you way too much, “But in the end, it’ll always be you and me wine-drunk on the couch, I promise.”

Pouting at the lovely words you barely hear from your best friend, you rested your head on his shoulder. He gave you a feeling of comfort like you’re home wherever he is - considering the fact that he was the main character in your childhood it was kind of true, all of your memories connected to home were filled with him, “I doubt your future wife will approve.”

You felt his head resting against yours, his voice low, “She can eat shit if she has a problem with it.”

For a second you didn’t say anything, but then you just had to ask him your burning question despite fearing the answer, “Are you and her serious?”

The way he furrowed his eyebrows said it all, “Don’t you think I would’ve told you if I was serious about someone?”

Of course, he had a point but something made you feel unsure - almost insecure. Jeongguk noticed your sudden shift in behavior, the strong urge to calm you down and make you feel better coming over him, “She’s the girl I was at last Friday when you were over. I didn’t really talk to her after that night. And I doubt I will again after tonight.”

That made you feel a bit lighter, thankful you didn’t have to deal with her again. It’s not like you didn’t want Jeongguk to be happy, you did, you just hated the thought of someone by his side that wasn’t good enough for him. It probably wasn’t fair because deep down you knew that no one would ever be good enough for the golden boy in your eyes, no one except for you.

“I can’t believe she was intimidated by someone like me,” you almost scoffed at the thought, making Jeongguk lift his head, “By me of all people.”

Jeongguk eyed you, confusion written all over his face, “Why wouldn’t she be?”

Thinking about it for a second, you shrugged, “Everyone knows we’ve been friends for years. It should be known by now that I’m not a danger to any of your girls.”

Laughing, Jeongguk shook his head in disagreement, “You’re delusional.”

Playfully, you hit his chest, a grin on your face, “Stop being so mean. Why would call me that?”

Your best friend was smiling brightly, eyes skimming over the nice view of the dark city from the top of the Ferris wheel that was currently standing still, “Because it’s true.”

One thing you always loved about Jeongguk was his smile, it sounded so cliche but it was true - to this day he somehow managed to still look like a boy whenever he was smiling, his big bunny teeth shining, the adorable laugh lines you loved so much forming in his labionasal zone and, your favorite thing about it, the smile always reaching his eyes, the wrinkles around them showing.

“Call me delusional one more time and I’ll end this friendship,” you warned him jokingly, the smile on his face only increasing more.

“I’m serious though,” he gestured, the atmosphere lighthearted again, “We talked about this before.”

Kind of being at a loss, you gave him a questioning glance, not catching on.

“Of course, girls will be intimidated by the fact that the person I’m most comfortable around is a girl,” he explained, his eyes not once looking away from yours, “Our campus is small and everyone already thinks we're dating. What do you think why no guy that knows me ever hits on you?”

It kind of made sense, yet once again Jeongguk seemed to be right and you disliked the fact that it was so logical.

He let out a laugh as he saw your mind working, realizing that he got a point, “I thought you were the clever one from us.”

Throwing a death glare at him, you shook your head, “You know literally every single guy on campus. Thanks for being such a cockblock.”

Snickering, he shrugged lightly, “Be happy, if it wasn’t for me you might have ended up on Taehyung’s endless list of random hook-ups.”

The situation between the two of you cooled down fastly again and for the rest of the evening, you could at least forget about your newest realization - at least until the two of you were standing in front of your door and the hug he gave you just felt a bit too good in your opinion. You suddenly started to hate how much he acted like a boyfriend towards you, knowing he had always been like this around you, twelve years of friendship and he always insisted on taking you home but now, that you might have started to like him it felt a bit overwhelming.

As you were in bed, trying to fall asleep you couldn’t stop picturing his stupid, proud grin as he won you a Minion plush, knowing you’d absolutely hate it, his fragrance in your nose, the way his hug felt so warm and comfortable still making you feel dense - this was getting out of hand.

You remember telling Irene that you would only drink one or two beers and nothing more and Irene agreeing with you, just wanting a girls night out again. All of this was not part of the plan - you didn’t plan to get completely wasted to a point where even holding up your own head was a challenge.

But still, there you were, in the dorm of Irene’s boyfriend, sitting on the kitchen table with your head in your hands. It’s not like you didn’t have fun, if you were honest you might have had a bit too much fun - it was hard for you to catch a clear thought, a thousand different ones swimming around in your head. You remembered that you had to call Namjoon in the morning to tell him something but you couldn’t grasp what exactly you wanted to tell him. You thought about your last exam next week, feeling bad because you should be learning instead of trying to sober up in someone’s kitchen.

Another thought came to your mind, making you feel like throwing up - Jeongguk. Even now when you were drunk you tried to tell yourself that you were overthinking the whole flirting going on between the two of you, blaming yourself for being too careless with your friendship.

“Hey, (y/n), are you okay?” you heard a sweet voice and were sure that you knew the voice from somewhere but couldn’t identify it, too lazy and tired to open your eyes to check who was in front of you.

“I’m alright, I guess,” you answered sloppily, forcing yourself to open one eye to see no one else than Jeongguk’s roommate Jimin in front of you, a big grin on his face - he tried hard not to laugh at your clearly fucked-up state.

“You don’t seem alright,” he laughed, sitting down on the kitchen table right next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist to support you, “Just how much did you drink?”

“Obviously too much,” you scoffed at his stupid question, making him laugh once again.

“Still as snappy as always,” he nagged you, putting your arm around his shoulder, trying to make you stand up, “Good to know you’re still the same, even completely wasted.”

“What are we doing, Jimin?” you asked him, your eyes falling shut again.

Forcing yourself to follow Jimin, you were now standing, pretty sure that if Jimin would stop supporting you you’d fall, “I’m bringing you to our dorm.”

“Why?” you glared at him, not liking the idea of leaving already, “I’m fine, I just need to sober up a bit, I promise.”

“Jeongguk will kill me if I leave you here in your current state,” Jimin insisted lovingly but stern enough to leave no room for discussions.

You rolled your eyes at the mention of your best friends’ name, not wanting to think about him, “Jeongguk can kiss my ass.”

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Jimin replied to your comment and deep inside you were thankful for him taking care of you. Usually, you could hold your liquor way better, so you had no idea why you were so out of it tonight, barely noticing anything around you.

As Jimin was carrying you inside of his dorm, Jeongguk was just stepping out of the shower and judging by the fact that it was in the middle of the night, Jimin was sure he had someone over earlier.

“How was the party?” he heard his friend screaming from the bathroom as he sat you down on the couch. You already fell asleep in his arms - as soon as you knew you were getting home safe you started to feel tired, asking Jimin if it was okay if you closed your eyes and he let you sleep, giving you a piggyback ride back to the dorm.

“It was fine,” he answered unbothered, trying to untie your shoes as Jeongguk walked into the living room.

“Did you bring someone home?” he asked in a celebrating tone, no idea yet who the girl on his couch was.

As he came over to his friend and saw your face his jaw dropped slightly, trying to put one and one together.

“What’s going on?” he asked his friend, his voice stern, “Why were you with (y/n)?”

As if Jeongguk wasn’t upset enough already to see Jimin bring you home, completely passed out, Taehyung came out of his room, curious to what was going on.

Jimin scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, “I was just taking care of your drunk best friend, you’re welcome.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk bit his lip, “I’m sorry, it’s just,” he started, looking at your figure on his couch for a second - he hated seeing you like this, “Nothing happened between you, right?”

Jimin’s eyes widened, trying not to laugh at the question he was just asked, “You think I’d make out with your girl? Seriously?”

Jeongguk threw his hands in the air, offended, “She’s not my girl.”

Both of them were distracted when they heard Taehyung facepalming himself from behind them, “Jeongguk, let’s go to the kitchen and sit down.”

Jimin and Jeongguk gave each other a questioning glance, wondering what Taehyung wanted but followed him wordlessly.

Taehyung let out a deep and long sigh, rubbing his temple as he stared at Jeongguk who was now sitting opposite from him.

“What’s bothering you?” Jeongguk asked his closest friend, confusion written all over his face. What could be so important at three in the morning that couldn’t wait until the next day?

Scoffing, Taehyung shook his head in disbelief, “Are you completely blind?”

Still not being able to follow, Jeongguk started to get defensive, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Can you just tell me already?”

“You’re standing here in our living room, obviously upset at the thought of Jimin and (y/n) getting it on and then have the nerve to act like you’re not completely smitten for her?”

The confusion in Jeongguk’s face vanished within a second, being replaced by annoyance, “I’m not going through this with you again, Taehyung. We’ve been friends for twelve years. How often do I have to repeat that for you?”

Now, Jimin started to get involved in the discussion, taking Taehyung’s side, much to Jeongguk’s dislike, “Friends can fall in love too, you know that.”

Giving Jimin a pleading glance, as if he was begging him to take his side just for once, Jeongguk pouted, “Not her and me. It can’t happen to us.”

Taehyung was still busy rubbing his temples as if his friend was giving him the biggest headache he ever experienced, “It can and it is happening to you, please stop acting like it’s not. Guk, I see the eyes you’re making at her wherever we are.”

“And not to be like that, but that girl you’re seeing looks suspiciously similar to (y/n),” Jimin threw into the conversation and deep down Jeongguk knew he was right, he realized certain similarities between you and her too.

But Jeongguk decided to stay stubborn, afraid of his own feelings, “The thought of Jimin and (y/n) just upset me because I don’t want things to be awkward when she comes over if it wouldn’t work out.”

Neither Taehyung nor Jimin believed him for a second, “So, you’re saying if Jimin and (y/n) would be a real couple, you wouldn’t mind?”

Shrugging, he scoffed, not wanting to think about those kind of scenarios at all. It would simply be weird for his friends to date, not because he had feelings for you or anything, it just wouldn’t fit, “If he makes her happy, why not?”

Taehyung’s hand run through his hair, having to collect everything in him to not rip it out then and there. How could someone be so damn stubborn? He loved Jeongguk to death but if this boy didn’t realize he was in love sooner or later he couldn’t promise not to hurt him, “Because you have feelings for her, you absolute idiot.”

“So, what if I do?” Jeongguk’s voice suddenly became louder, not having Taehyung’s behavior anymore and Taehyung felt relieved, finally having him where he wanted, out of his constant denial, “Do you think I’d just risk my longest and closest friendship because of some stupid feelings?”

Anxious, Jeongguk looked over his shoulder to see if you were still asleep, afraid that you could hear his emotional outburst, his voice becoming quieter, “It’ll pass. Sooner or later.”

His best friend’s hand found his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, “Just don’t regret not confronting her about it someday.”

Calming down again, Jeongguk furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean? Why would I regret it?”

Then, Taehyung spoke the words out loud that Jeongguk was too afraid to think, “What if it doesn’t pass?”

Not wanting to deal with this idea, Jeongguk stood up from the table, excusing himself, “I’m absolutely not ready to think about that, please understand.”

Walking over to where you were sleeping, he studied you for a few seconds, a sudden wave of anxiety rushing over him. This needed to pass - he already flirted with you too much, already gave you too many hints, if you wanted him too, you would’ve reacted differently, right?

How frustrating it was for him, out of all the people his dumb self had to fall for the only person he shouldn’t be in love with. But Taehyung was right, he could deny it as much as he wanted, it was still true. And how couldn’t he fall for you, with a face like that and a personality that no one could ever compare to?

He had to force himself to stop staring at you before he did something stupid like trying to kiss you - you looked so peaceful, the thought of not having you around hurt his heart.

That night, Jeongguk fell asleep with you on his mind, not able to fight the feelings any longer, no idea that a few nights ago you were in your bed, dealing with the same problem.

Jeongguk got it bad for you and he hated himself for it, feeling like a complete idiot to bring feelings into this friendship.

When you woke up your head was spinning and your mouth was dry. It took you a second to come to your senses, forcing yourself to sit up on the couch you slowly recognized. Why were you at Jeongguk’s place? You don’t remember seeing him yesterday.

Studying the room in need of anything that would make you remember last night's events a smile found its way to your face as you saw the bottle of water and aspirin on the table beside the couch, right next to it a little note.

‘Good morning you drunkard. This is for you. God knows you need it.’

Thankful for Jeongguk taking care of you, you fastly took the pill and downed the water in one go, your body feeling at least a little bit better.

The clock on the wall said it was currently ten in the morning and you wondered where everyone was - you doubt the boys would be out early on a Sunday morning.

And just as you wanted to get up and search for your best friend, he came walking right through the door, looking comfortable in his sweatpants and thick hoodie.

“(Y/n), you were great last night,” he smirked at you as he let himself fall right to the space beside you.

“Shut up, you idiot,” you laughed at his attempt of trying to fool you.

Gasping a bit, he glanced at you with wide eyes, “You don’t remember? I had no idea you were into that stuff, I’m glad I found out though.”

There was no way he was being serious right? You cursed yourself for not being able to remember anything from last night. Normally, you wouldn’t believe Jeongguk a single word but he sounded convincing and god knows what your drunk ass did, now that you started to look at Jeongguk in another way than before.

Your stomach was turning, not wanting to believe him, “Stop fucking with me. I’m too hungover for your teasing.”

He rubbed his temples, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry to tell you but I’m serious. I didn’t know you had an underboob tattoo, when did you get that?”

If you didn’t feel sick before, you definitely did now. Running your hands through your hair you wanted to rip them out, “Don’t tell me we had sex with each other, Jeongguk. Please.”

“I can’t believe you can’t remember,” Jeongguk shook his head before a sly smile crept onto his lips, “Should I refresh your memory?”

Whining, your leg kicked him away from you, “You little shit, stop it right now and tell me you’re just kidding.”

Finally letting out the laugh he tried to hide the whole time, he rubbed the spot you just kicked him, “Do you think I’d fuck you when you’re that wasted and then let you sleep on the couch?”

You let out a relieved sigh, ready to murder your best friend, “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Jeongguk was enjoying the whole situation a bit too much for your liking, his grin glued to his face, “I’m a bit offended you think having sex with me would be that terrible.”

Your glare left him unbothered, “How do you know about my tattoo?”

In an instant, his ears turned red, “You were too drunk to change so I helped you.”

Until then you didn’t even realize that you indeed were wearing clothes that didn’t belong to you, the thought of Jeongguk seeing you almost naked making you feel embarrassed in an instant.

“I didn’t try anything, did I?” you carefully asked, fearing the answer.

He shook his head heavily, “No, no, don’t worry. You passed out as soon as Jimin brought you home.”

Jimin? That piece of information was new to you, your eyes widening in an instant again, “There was nothing between us, right?”

Chuckling at how panicked you were, Jeongguk immediately calmed you down, telling you that you should stop worrying, “He’d be dead by now if he tried anything.”

With squinted eyes, you glanced at him, “You’re acting like an overprotective brother.”

“More like a boyfriend, if you ask me,” you heard Jimin’s angelic voice from behind you, turning around to see him standing in the door, “Glad to see you’re still alive.”

Chuckling, you nodded, “Glad to see that you’re still alive too and Jeongguk didn’t kill you.”

Shrugging, a teasing smile directed towards Jeongguk was plastered on his face, “It’s not like he didn’t want to as he saw me bringing you home.”

Playfully, you poked his side, “Jealous, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk’s face turned red, not liking the situation at all, afraid that Jimin would say anything you weren’t supposed to know, “Just be quiet and get ready, I’m taking you out to breakfast.”

Not able to hide a last teasing comment, Jimin poured himself some coffee in the kitchen, “Sounds like a date to me.”

You certainly wouldn’t mind a date with Jeongguk. What you didn’t know is that neither would he.

Were you in the mood to go to this stupid party? No. Was this reason enough to convince Namjoon to not go and just stay home instead? Absolutely not.

You were honestly still trying to recover from your hangover from last weekend, not ready to even smell alcohol again but you knew you had no choice.

The only good thing about all of this was that you could finally see your best friend again tonight. The week was busy and even though you talked on the phone a lot you didn’t manage to meet, despite telling each other that you missed being together every single day.

It might be delusional of you but you felt like Jeongguk’s behavior towards you changed since last weekend. Of course, you might just misinterpret the situation but somehow he seemed to be more clingy, maybe even a bit more affectionate. Not that you were complaining.

“No way,” Namjoon shook his head heavily as you asked him to just turn around even though you were already in front of the big entrance to the house the party was going on in, “We’re going, it’s the last big party this term and attending it is mandatory.”

The sky only turned dark about twenty minutes ago and somehow, the whole garden already was full of red cups and people making out in the corners. How cliche.

As you entered the door, the hallway was already filled with tons of people, most of them you’ve never seen before - if you were honest, you weren’t even sure who this house belonged to and you preferred smaller gatherings with close friends to get drunk but if it made Namjoon happy, you’d certainly try your best fo have fun.

“You know how we’re going to do it, right?” Namjoon asked you for the hundredth time today, “As soon as we see Lia you call her over, start a conversation and then leave us alone because you have to look for Jeongguk.”

Amused, you nodded, “Namjoon, we’ve gone over this so often, I probably will remember the plan until the day I die.”

He chuckled, a bit too excited, “I’m just nervous.”

It warmed your heart to see him so giddy, if anyone of your friends deserved to fall in love it was Namjoon, “I’m pretty sure she likes you too. I see the way she eyes you in class. I’ll include this little story in my speech at your wedding.”

“Kim Lia,” he thought about it for a small second, “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you were on your way to the kitchen, both needing booze to get into the right mood - and luckily, the kitchen was way less crowded than the living room that was currently used as the main floor.

“What about you, though, Jeon (y/n). Like the sound of it?”

Scoffing loudly, you poured some liquor into one of the red cups, “Don’t even make me think about it, it’ll only complicate things.”

“The only thing complicating anything is the two of you not wanting to admit you have the hots for each other,” Namjoon kept bugging you with this topic for weeks now - just like everyone around you, “Everyone notices it except for you.”

“Stop it,” you almost yelled at him, knowing he won’t shut up about it, “Do you want me to help you with Lia or not?”

Immediately shutting up, he gave you an innocent smile and filled his cup up too, clinking it with yours, “Cheers.”

After fastly downing your first mixture of Whiskey and Coke, you filled your cup up again, ready to go into the battlefield of a dancefloor in the living room, on a mission to get Namjoon laid.

The two of you were still too sober, compared to the other people dancing around you but it wasn’t awkward at all - you enjoyed Namjoon’s company, always. You were more worried about the time you had to leave his side because he needed some alone time with his crush.

You caught yourself looking around for Jeongguk, your eyes scanning the whole room and your search didn’t go unnoticed, Namjoon giving you a skeptic glance before coming down to your ear, his voice almost screaming because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to understand him over the loud music, “We all know who I’m looking for but I bet you’re looking for a man with long hair with a charming aura and dreamy eyes?”

Rolling your eyes you hated how accurate that was, “I’m not in love with him, Namjoon.”

The expression on his face showed that he wasn’t believing you for a single second, “I talked to Taehyung last week. He said that Jeongguk is just as desperately in love with you, so just go for it.”

Butterflies came flying to your stomach and you wanted to kill each and every one of them, still not used to the fact that you saw Jeongguk as more than a friend. You weren’t denying it anymore, at least not to yourself, but that didn’t change the fact that you disliked it so much.

You disliked nothing more than how much you wanted Jeongguk to hold you, kiss you, like you back. Actually, there was one thing you disliked even more: the fact, that you weren’t sure if Jeongguk thought similar of you or not, his mixed signals making you go insane slowly.

“What do you mean, you and Taehyung talked about it?” you asked him sharply, not believing the betrayal.

Your friend put his hands in the air, pleading not guilty, “He came to me and asked about your thoughts on Jeongguk.”

Throwing your head back in frustration, you whined, “And let me guess, you told Tae that I like Jeongguk?”

Amused at your misery, he let out a laugh, “Of course, I would never lie to someone, you know that.”

“I’m going to murder you, Kim Namjoon,” you warned him through gritted teeth but before you could actually act on your anger, his eyes grew wide.

“Lia, she’s coming towards us,” he sounded like he was about to faint and you told him to breathe, deciding that you could still kill him later.

It took only about three minutes until you were unnecessary to the conversation, excusing yourself to leave and barely getting a response because Namjoon and Lia were so immersed in their conversation, they almost didn’t notice you were saying something. Good for them.

But where were you supposed to go now? You studied the room, hoping to find anyone you could cling on, preferably Jeongguk or Irene but neither of them were around.

A few seconds later, you found your second-best option: Taehyung, Aleena and Jimin, standing on a tall table, a bottle of booze in the middle. They welcomed you with big hugs and your mood lifted in an instant. It was nice seeing Taehyung and Aleena were still together, all the other girls around probably disappointed that they weren’t the ones who were able to tame Taehyung.

“Looking stunning as always,” Jimin gave you a small wink as he eyes you from up and down, the harmless compliment boosting your ego immediately.

Taehyung let out a sigh, joking as he hugged you, “Stop flirting with your mate’s girl, Jimin. We’ve been over this.”

“Not flirting,” Jimin chuckled.

“Also, not your mate’s girl,” you replied to Taehyung’s comment.

Filling your empty cup with booze for you, he shook his head, “How is living in delulu-land going for you?”

Deciding to ignore Taehyung’s snarky remark, you thanked him for the drink and downed it with them, ready to have a fun night. Maybe Namjoon was right and the evening was not going to be as bad as you thought it would be.

Still, there was one burning question in the back of your mind, “Where is Jeongguk by the way? Isn’t he here yet?”

Jimin and Taehyung gave each other a short glance, you were not able to read it but they were definitely communicating with their eyes before Jimin answered you, “We came together but lost him on the way.”

Deciding, not to be too nosy about it you accepted their answer without questioning it, “You’ll have to deal with me then until he finds me, I’m sorry.”

Luckily they didn’t seem to mind. It was nice to know that Jeongguk’s friends were so welcoming and warm towards you, almost as if you have been in their friend group since forever.

It didn’t take long for Aleena and you to bond over the girl you both hate and share a class with, happy to hear that you weren’t the only one who disliked her.

“She’s not all that bad,” Jimin dared to interrupt your gossip, only to gain a disapproving glance form Aleena.

“You just want to get into her pants,” Taehyung argued, “Even I agree that she’s kind of annoying.”

Aleena high-fived her boyfriend, making Jimin roll his eyes.

“You’re just taking your girlfriend’s side,” Jimin teased his friend lovingly, “You were so much more fun when you were still single.”

But you didn’t pay attention to their bickering anymore, not being able to focus on anything, busy feeling your heart break into pieces slowly and painfully as your eyes found Jeongguk on the other side of the room.

Your breathing became heavy and standing was difficult because of how dizzy you felt, your stomach turning around, leaving you feel like you were about to puke from the sight you were currently eyeing. This couldn’t be true. But no matter how often you blinked, as soon as you opened your eyes you saw the same sight again and again.

Time was passing slower, almost in slow-motion as you noticed Jeongguk walking inside, his hair all over the place, fingers busy fumbling on the upper button of the white button-up he was wearing. He looked as handsome as ever but sweaty, no one else but the girl you met at the fair walking inside behind him, you didn’t even want to think of her name.

Your heart sting as you thought back to the night you met her, remembering Jeongguk’s words, telling you not to worry about her.

You tried to concentrate on yourself, your hands were shaking, not sure if it was because of the anger or sadness building up inside of you, probably a mixture of both, your legs feeling wobblier by each second. You felt weak. You felt tired.

And that is why you don’t fall in love with your best friend - to protect yourself from that exact feeling.

If you could, you would vanish right now, not wanting to exist anymore to avoid feeling like this, not sure if anything ever hurt you the way this sight did right now. You felt stupid, a wave of self-hate coming over you for being so naive to even think that a small part of him could like you back.

The two of you were friends, nothing more. It was always like that, why would it change suddenly?

In that moment, you didn’t notice anything around you, everything else irrelevant, almost as if time stopped completely - gulping, you realized that you and Jeongguk could never go back to what you used to have because you were stupid enough to bring feelings into this.

Just as you thought it couldn’t get worse his eyes met yours, already starring at him and you were sure your eyes were filled with pain. He noticed immediately, his expression almost pleading you to let him explain, pain was written all over his features - as soon as he spotted you he seemed sorrowful, gloomy, even worried but you were sure in comparison to you, he still would look happy.

He knew what was going on.

The longer your eyes focused on each other, the more uncomfortable you felt - but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, the thoughts of what had just happened between them haunting you. Even if you knew he did nothing wrong, he wasn’t yours after all, you wanted to cry as soon as the thought filled up your mind.

Someone’s hands held your shoulders, making you snap back to reality as you realized that Jimin tried to make you look away, the torture on your face not going by unnoticed by him.

Not able to say what you were thinking, Taehyung got a hang of what was going on, spotting Jeongguk on the other side of the room, Jennifer right by his side, also slowly understanding what, or better said who, Jeongguk was starring at, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

“This asshole,” you heard Taehyung mumble under his breath, thankful for hearing him say that, “I’ll kill him.”

It felt like you were glued to the floor, not able to say anything because tears were building in your eyes, making you feel even more pathetic. But as soon as you saw Jeongguk strutting towards you, his pained expression becoming more intense by each second you knew you had to act quick.

You had two options: Staying right where you are and risking crying in front of everyone or fleeing to cry in peace on the toilet. You glanced at Taehyung, panic in your eyes as you decided to go with the second option, “Please, stop him from coming after me, I need a second.”

And with that you were turning around, fast pace towards the nearest restroom you could find, locking the door behind you.

Breathing in, breathing out. And in, and out again. Repeating this over and over until you calmed down, proud of yourself for not crying.

Jeongguk didn’t owe you anything, he did nothing wrong, he only playfully flirted with you every now and then, platonic and you let it get to your head. He could sleep with whoever he wanted. It was not worth ruining your friendship.

You tried to tell yourself those facts over and over again until you started to actually believe them. Knowing that Taehyung could only keep him away from you for so long, you felt pressured to pull yourself together. What were you even supposed to say once Jeongguk found you? He had no idea that you liked him and now was certainly not the time to tell him.

The first knock on the bathroom door made you freeze in your spot. Another deep breath, calming yourself down a bit.

“Please, let me in,” the voice of your best friend sounded desperate over the muffled music you could hear blasting from the living room.

Knowing, it would be stupid to ignore him because in the end, you had to open the door for him sooner and later and it would only get more awkward the longer you waited, you opened it for him, a relieved sigh escaping his mouth as soon as he saw you.

In a rush, he came in and closed the door behind you - he still was worried, his wrinkled forehead giving him away. Standing right before you, he held your arms in his hands, making you look at him, “I know this sounds like such a douchebag sentence but you have to believe me, it’s not what it looks like and I can explain.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Guk,” your voice luckily didn’t betray you and you were impressed with how cool you sounded, as if you didn’t just almost lost your mind. But you meant it, it was the truth - he didn’t have to explain it to you, “you literally don’t owe me anything, don’t worry.”

Biting his lip, he shook his head, “I owe you everything and I am worrying.”

His eyes were starring into yours as if he was searching for something in them and before you knew what was happening, he wrapped his arms around you, embracing you tightly. His hands pressed your head against his chest, lightly caressing your hair, “Can we please go to my dorm?”

“Why?” you asked quietly, not knowing what exactly was going on. Jeongguk’s reaction to your reaction confused you even more and you wondered just how weird this evening could possibly get.

“Please,” he just whispered, begging you to come with him - so you agreed and without exchanging another word, the two of you were on your way out, ignoring everyone else as you were leaving.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye?” you asked him carefully, almost afraid of the way he was rushing you. What in the world was going on?

Shaking his head once again, he handed you his jacket as soon as you were stepping outside, telling you to wear it even though his dorm luckily was only a five-minute walk away, “It’s okay, I’ll see them at home later.”

Not able to keep up with his fast steps, you held onto his arm to slow him down and he immediately walked slower, letting you keep up with him.

“We didn’t have sex,” he blurted out, the whole situation seemingly stressing him out even more than you. Under any other circumstances, you probably would’ve chuckled at his nervousness but you still felt too tense, your heart heavy as if it could just fall out any second.

Gulping, your eyes were glued to the stars in the sky, afraid to look into his eyes, “It wouldn’t have been the first time, it’s alright.”

It didn’t feel alright to you but it had to be.

“It wouldn’t be alright,” he insisted and you were too tired to think about how exactly he meant that, just wanting this day to be over, “I wanted to talk to her to end things, ask Taehyung, I told him about ending it today. But then she tried to change my mind and started to touch me, that’s why my hair looked like that and she tried to undress me but I told her I’m not interested in her.”

If it was any other guy you probably would think he was just lying, the typical excuses coming out of his mind - but he wasn’t any guy. He was your best friend and you were certain he never lied to you before, except last weekend when he tried to convince you you had sex, and even if he tried to you’d look right through it.

The two of you were standing in front of his dorm now as he was opening the front door for you, “Can you trust me?”

God, if you’d ever tell someone this story they’d think you’re the most naive girl walking on this earth but the man next to you wasn’t only your crush, no, he was also by your side since your childhood days so how couldn’t you trust him.

“I’ll always trust you,” you sighed, “But why are you telling me all this?”

Jeongguk turned on the lights in his living room, mustering you - he seemed to be a bit more relaxed by now, his eyes still burning with questions and a certain neediness but way less pained. As you noticed the deep breath he was taking, you decided to the same.

“Go to my room, okay?” he asked you, chewing on the inside of his cheek, another typical sign of nervousness for him, “I need to call Taehyung, they are probably searching for us. But I’ll be right back and talk to you, promise.”

Doing as you were told, you walked over to his room, feeling surprisingly fine. You finally had a free minute to think about the overwhelming events of the last thirty minutes - almost embarrassed at how you jumped to conclusions when you saw Jeongguk and Jennifer, you were still relieved that they didn’t have sex. It didn’t matter if he didn’t feel the same way as you did but at least he wasn’t serious about that terrible girl.

What you were still feeling uneasy about though was the weird behavior of your best friend.

It only took him about half a minute until he entered his room, his ears red once again, showing you that he was struggling with his shyness.

“You noticed it too, right?” Jeongguk confronted you as soon as he looked at you, biting his lips, his handsome face full of worries once again.

Afraid that you might misunderstand the situation, you gulped, “Can you be a bit more specific?”

Your best friend inhaled sharply, rubbing his hands over his face, his whole body tensing. He needed a moment to clear his thoughts, afraid to say the wrong thing but you were willing to give him all the time he needed.

If this conversation was going to way you thought it was, he had every reason to be nervous, your ribcage felt tight and as if it could rip any second so you could only imagine what your best friend felt like right now, being the one addressing the whole situation. But then, on the other hand, judging your reaction earlier it wasn’t too hard to notice that you had feelings for him.

“There’s a difference in how we act around each other, right?” your best friend finally said, choosing his words very carefully on purpose so he could always play it cool if you rejected him. His ears were red and in any other situation you’d nag him about it but you knew it was inappropriate right now, “The way we talk and the way we touch each other. Even the way we look at each other. Is that just me?”

His last question was filled with sorrow, almost pain even. Jeongguk hated the thought of fucking up your friendship just as much as you, so for him to finally address the tension between you was very brave of him, something you wouldn’t have dared.

The whole situation felt awkward, you wanted it to be over as soon as possible, afraid that saying one wrong thing might end your friendship forever - you were aware that nothing would break your friendship that easily but just the thought of romantic feelings between the two of you was making you anxious. You liked Jeongguk, you wanted to be around him more than usual, you found yourself staring at his lips and his arms and think of him differently - all the signs were clear, you were falling for your best friend, no matter how often you told yourself you were not and you were just lonely.

You liked Jeongguk - and apparently, he was going through something similar with you too.

“It’s not just you,” you finally manage to answer his question, your voice sounding weak and almost not like yours, “I noticed it too.”

The man on the bed beside you shifted his glance from his feet right to your face after hearing your words, his cheeks red and you were sure so were yours.

"Thank god,” he mumbled under his breath, relaxing immediately, “I’m going to say something now and it might sound insane but I have to tell you.”

Nodding, your heart beat unbelievably fast, hoping to hear the words you wanted to hear so badly out of his mouth.

“I don’t give a fuck about Jennifer,” he started, the mention of her name making you feel bitter for a short second, “I don’t like her. I like you. It’s bad and stupid but I do.”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle, beyond excited to finally know about the feelings of the man standing in front of you, “It is bad and stupid. But I feel the same.”

He let out a scoff as if he couldn’t believe you were having such a conversation, shaking his head a bit confused, “This feels so awkward.”

You chuckled, thankful that he put your feelings into words, “I guess that is what happens when friends suddenly get caught up in another.”

He let himself fall backward, right onto his bed, staring at his ceiling. His hand ran through his hair as he let out the hundredth sigh for today, “I can’t believe we like each other.”

You threw him a glare, rolling your eyes before sarcastically adding, “Don’t be too happy about it.”

A pout formed on his lips, trying to look cute, “That’s not how I meant it, you know that.”

“Well, how did you mean it then?” you asked, a bit hurt at his frustration. It’s not like you thought it was ideal that you two fancied each other but it also wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened.

Your best friend moved his hand towards your wrist, as if he wanted to grab it but then stopped himself - only to then grab it nevertheless, pulling you to lay down beside him carefully.

There you were, next to your best friend, figuring out how to go on from here. Your face was turned to look into his, his hand still holding onto your wrist. His hair was messy, hanging in front of his eyes. No question, you preferred this tension over the one that was still hanging in the air about half an hour ago and you couldn’t be more thrilled to finally have him next to you, knowing that your feelings weren’t just one-sided but you never thought about how awkward it would be to finally shift from platonic to actually romantic.

“What do we do now?” he asked, biting his lip but then giving you a helpless laugh, “I’m sorry, I’m nervous about all of this.”

It was at least nice that the two of you could talk openly, even though it was a very weird and unfamiliar situation to both of you, at least you could be honest with each other, not afraid of showing your true feelings.

“How much do you like me?” you asked him, trying to decide on where to go from here. It was such an uncomfortable question to answer but you needed to know, not sure how exactly he felt about you.

He let out a breathy laugh, a shy smirk on his face, “I’ll get flustered talking about it.”

His smile immediately made you relax, smiling back at him, “I’m just trying to figure out if we should act on all of this or just try to ignore it, hoping it’ll go away.”

Jeongguk closed his eyes, not daring to look at you while confessing what he thought, his voice nothing more than a mumble, “I think it’s a bit too much for me to just ignore it. Let’s just say in my head we already told our parents about us.”

Chuckling, the sudden rush of wanting to kiss him overcame you but you stopped yourself - you knew how terrible he was at talking about his feelings, so him saying this must be a big step for him. To reassure him that he had nothing to worry about, you freed your wrist from his grip to interlock your finger with his.

“But if you want to just stay friends I’ll obviously be fine with it, our friendship is way more important than anything and if you feel-”, Jeongguk started to ramble, the pace of his talking become faster by ever word.

“No, that’s not it,” you interrupted him, trying to explain what worried you, “I’m just afraid to lose you.”

Nodding, his thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand, “Do you think I’m not? That’s the risky part about all of this.”

“I tried to trick myself into thinking we’re just friends but I truly want you, Guk,” the words felt risky as they left your lips as if he didn’t just admit he liked you too, the ball in his court now again.

“Good,” his eyes were sparkling and his leg intertwined with yours, his touch burning on you skin, “I don’t think I could go back to being just friends. I will always see you as something more.”

You wanted to hear those words over and over again, hard to believe the unbelievable outcome of this messy night.

“Can you picture that?” you asked him, “You and I, together.”

Jeongguk nodded immediately, not even needing a second to think about your question, “I told you before, I think we could be a strong couple. The possibility was always there.”

“So, it’s settled?”

He let out a laugh, nodding again, “Do you wanna shake hands to seal the deal or what do we do now?”

Joining his laughter, you shook your head in amusement, “We suck at this.”

“I promise we’ll get better at this over time,” Jeongguk was glowing now, happy, his aura as positive as always. He opened his arms, reaching for your body, giving you a small smirk, “Should we try cuddling?”

You almost snorted at the awkward proposal but didn’t have to let him ask you twice so within seconds your head was resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly. His heartbeat was surprisingly fast, thank god you weren’t the only one nervous about all of this.

He smelled as amazing as ever and the dim lights in his room were making you feel like you were in heaven even though the whole situation was still feeling a bit odd. You loved the way his arms felt wrapped around you though, definitely wanting to get used to that feeling.

“This is so weird,” you laughed into his chest and you could feel it vibrating when he joined your laughter, “but I like it.”

“Me too,” his voice was soft now, a bit more confident as he carefully played with your hair. It was helpful that you weren’t looking at each other right now, you were sure you’d be as red as a tomato if you had to face him.

For a second, the two of you were just laying there, enjoying each other’s presence in silence, too anxious to say something. It wasn’t as awkward anymore even though you were afraid to move - as soon as you would only a muscle he’d react to it for sure.

But luckily, he moved first, sitting up on his bed and glancing at you, a helpless expression on his face, “I have a suggestion to make.”

“I’m listening,” you reassured him, still lying in his bed, too comfortable to get up as the exhaustion from earlier was brushing off on you.

“I’ll fix us something to eat while you search through Netflix,” he started, waiting for an answer before he continued.

“So far so good,” you gave him two thumbs up, ready to here the rest of suggestion.

“We could try to perfect this whole cuddling thing too if you want to,” he then suggested shyly.

Chuckling at how cute he was, you nodded, “God knows we need some more practice.”

“And as soon as you’re comfortable enough, we could try to talk about all of this,” he gestured between the two of you, “I know it’s weird but I really want to work this out.”

Sitting up and grabbing his remote from the nightstand, you agreed with him, “We’re on the same page, I promise.”

Hearing that from you was enough to boost his confidence a bit, knowing that the awkward tension between you would vanish in no time, once you figured out all the smaller details.

You watched him as he was walking towards his door, admiring him in a whole new way - Jeongguk was handsome, an impressive body and a face straight from heaven. Of course, you knew all of that before but now that you could finally let those thoughts into your head without feeling weird about them you realized just how much you liked him. You think that those feelings for him might have developed a long time ago, you just never dared to pay attention to them before.

A rush of excitement came over you, looking forward to the new route ahead of the two of you - you’d figure all of this out, you two always did. All the new things you could explore together, as a couple - you couldn’t wait.

Just as he was about to open the door to take care of the food he turned around again, “Do you maybe want some clothes?”

You almost forgot that you were still in your dress, suddenly realizing how uncomfortable it was.

“Not like I mind having you in my bed in such a pretty dress but it looks pretty uncomfortable,” he explained before you could say anything, a smirk appearing on his lips, “And I bet you’d look good in my clothes.”

“You’re shamelessly flirting, Jeongguk,” you shouted out, both, amused and flustered by his not so subtle attempt.

Defensive, he threw his hands up in the air, “Hey, that’s just what lovers do.”

Lovers. How nice this word sounded when it came out of the right person’s mouth. Before you could agree or deny, he was already rummaging through his wardrobe, searching for clothes you could wear.

Not even ten minutes later you were back in Jeongguk’s bed, wearing a white oversized shirt and blue boxer shorts with little Maki’s printed on them, your hair in a messy bun while you were scrolling through Netflix, cuddled under Guk’s blanket.

Studying his room, you realized that you barely ever spent time in it, something that was about to change. Usually, the two of you would always chill in the living room because it was bigger, so his room was pretty uncommon to you. It was a bit messy, just like his room back home, except for his desk that was filled with the most expensive gaming utensils, glowing in all possible imaginary LED colors that existed.

A framed picture of the two of you caught your attention, decorating the shelf above his computer. It was one of your favorite pictures, both of you completely wasted, posing in a shopping cart. A warm feeling crept up on you after you realized that this was actually the only framed picture in his whole room.

The door opened, a big bowl of amazing smelling popcorn in one of his hands, and two big candles in the other one, “Ready to get comfortable?”

You let out a laugh at the sudden use of candles, “You never turned on candles around me before, is this an update?”

Setting down the bowl of popcorn on your lap and getting out a lighter to turn the candles on, he nodded, “I never wanted to impress you before.”

“You don’t have to try to impress me, Jeongguk,” you promised him, “but you’re doing quite a good job at it.”

“Move,” he pointed to the bed without saying anything else about the candles, “I wanna sit behind you if that’s alright.”

Moving a bit more towards the middle of the bed, you waited for him to sit behind you, his legs wrapping around you within seconds, your back leaned back against his chest. You put some of your blanket over him as he got comfortable.

Luckily, this felt less awkward than just twenty minutes ago and you were beyond thankful for it.

A few seconds later Jeongguk was done positioning himself behind you, his arm wrapped around your stomach, drawing little circles on your exposed skin where your shirt rose up.

“Is this okay?” he asked unsure, his breath tickling your ear, giving you goosebumps in an instant.

It was more than okay, you felt secure and safe and at home - a bit surprised too at how easy all of this seemed.

“It’s nice,” your voice was satisfied, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of being held by him, “I could fall asleep immediately.”

His lips were on your ear, giving it a light peck, goosebumps forming on your body in an instant, “Don’t you dare.”

The whisper made you shiver and you could feel Jeongguk’s grin without having to look at him, happy he had that effect on you.

About an hour into the movie you were watching, Jeongguk suddenly grabbed the remote and paused it - as you turned your head around to see what he was doing, the boy already looked at you, a concentrated glance on his face.

“What?” you asked him laughing, wondering what was happening.

Shrugging, his hand ran through your hair, eyes full of admiration, “You’re pretty cute. Did I ever tell you?”

Flustered, you playfully hit his chest, “Stop, Guk. You’re making me blush.”

The smile on his face was calm, his eyes not once leaving yours, “You are. Your mum must be proud of the beautiful woman you became.”

Not being used to hearing those kinds of compliments out of Jeongguk’s mouth your face turned red, “If you don’t stop right now, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

Breaking his loving stare he let out a laugh, nodding understandingly, “I’m sorry, I’ll stop. But you’ll have to get used to it. I won’t hold back anymore.”

“Better not promise anything you can’t keep,” you warned him.

After looking at you for a little longer he stood up out of nowhere, reaching for your hand to help you get up too, “Let’s go and make a warm cup of tea.”

Not knowing where his sudden proposal came from you agreed nevertheless, holding his hand as you walked over to the kitchen, your head leaning against his shoulder.

“What kind of tea do you want?” he asked you, opening a cupboard with a small variety of different kind of teas.

Before you could choose one yourself, Jeongguk let out a small chuckle, “Stupid question, I know you want strawberry tea anyway, right?”

It was almost heartwarming how automatic Jeongguk started to boil the water, preparing your tea, a domestic feeling you wanted to never go away again.

You were leaning against the counter, just watching him as his eyes met yours, a sly smile on his face when he came closer to you, his hands finding your waist, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just enjoying the view,” you replied as his right hand cupped your cheek and he came closer once again, his hip connected with yours. Jeongguk seemed taller than usual, it might be the fact that he never stood in front of you like this before but you swear, he never was as tall as today.

“I’ve made you tea before, it’s not like this is a new view for you.”

Agreeing, you nodded your head, “I know but you’ve never made tea as my boyfriend before.”

His forehead leaned against yours as his hand wandered down from your cheek, over your shoulder, softly caressing your arm until it found your hand, linking his fingers with yours before he slowly came closer, both of you anticipating what was about to happen, “Your boyfriend, I like the sound of it.”

Jeongguk’s lips were now just above yours, the thought of the little distance left between you being gone in a few seconds sent butterflies to your stomach.

His scent was already enough to make you feel dizzy, not to mention the burning touch of his hands on your skin or the way his leg found its way between your legs. But all of those things faded into the background as you could finally feel his lips on yours, the soft pressure making your knees feel weak and your heart beat faster.

It started out slow and careful, both of you enjoying the slow approach of seeing how far you could go. His second hand wandered upwards from your hip under your shirt towards your waist, his thumb drawing small circles on your skin.

The kiss started to deepen a few seconds later and the fact that you could feel Jeongguk smiling into the kiss made you want him even more. If only you would have known that kissing him felt this good you had kissed him way sooner.

Your hand played with the nape of his neck, trying to pull him even closer to you as he kissed you with more passion, more pressure, more neediness. His second hand found your waist, carefully pulling you upwards, motioning you to let him lift you up to sit on the counter - and of course, you let him.

So there you were, in the middle of the night, heavily making out with Jeon Jeongguk between your legs, both of his hands busy with your thighs as he freed his lips from yours, just to pepper kisses along your jawline, down your neck right until his lips reached the top of your breasts, both of you not caring about the tea he just made a few minutes ago anymore.

Throwing your head back with closed eyes you enjoyed the feeling of Jeongguk’s attention on your chest a bit too much, not to talk about how you slowly felt his hand moving to the inside of your thighs, slipping them under his pair of boxer shorts you were wearing sneakily.

It all felt too good, afraid of how good this night would actually still become - at least until you both suddenly froze in your place, realizing that your friends suddenly were standing in the room, just coming home from the party the two of you were at earlier.

Eyes wide open, both of you stared at the three of them, all of them staring back at you with wide smirks on their lips.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you heard Taehyung mumble under his breath, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice, “Did we interrupt something?”

Jimin chuckled, “We clearly did.”

Of course, they wouldn’t let you go that easily after all they were known for being a pain in the ass.

“Let’s go to my room before they start asking questions,” Jeongguk fastly told you, lifting you up from the counter once again, this time to help you get down.

But Taehyung already had other plans, the shit-eating grin on his face not fading at all, “Not so fast. How did that happen? We expected a lot but not that.”

Now, Taehyung’s girlfriend joined the conversation, “Baby, give them some space. God knows they need some alone time.”

Not letting the two of you get away so easily, Taehyung sat down on the kitchen table, gesturing you to join him, “First I want to know what happened after you left the party.”

Jeongguk threw you an apologetic glance, a small pout on his lips, making you chuckle.

“Guess we have to wait for a bit longer,” you whispered to him as you made your way over to the table.

Nodding, he let out a soft sigh, “Luckily we have all the time of the world.”

After waiting for twelve years you could definitely wait for another hour or two to finally start a new chapter of your life - and boy, were you excited for that chapter.

if you read until here, i wanna say thank you and i hope you enjoyed it. i barely write fics this long so sorry if it is a bit unstructed, i’m still learning! ♥

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

If life gives you melons...

Ship: Loki x F!alt! reader

Rating: Explicit / word count 5,5k

Summary: You've heard about meet-cute, how about meet-ugly? Reader has tattoos and a tongue split. There's this joke that "bisexual alt girls go looking for a girlfriend and end up with sad, tall and skinny white bois" and boy did that hit home. Inspired by this cringy video of Hiddles [youtube link].

During a panel at a comic con, Loki notices reader and they go on a date, reader gets railed: top!Loki, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, all the good stuff. Open ending, with a bonus of reader and Loki pranking Clint.

x. I usually fancy they/them pronouns for Loki but seeing as it's a smut-shot, I decided to go along with he/him for the sake of simplicity. Loki's at least 6'4 tall and you can fight me on that. Also, I write like a Tony stan - I feel the need to apologize to Loki stans for that. I love you guys! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

The long line of people appeared to be neverending. Loki was an enhanced, as the government recently had adopted a politically correct term for Earth's non-human inhabitants, but even his enhanced endurance had begun waning due to sheer amount of people wanting a piece of memorabilia signed by The God of Mischief. Loki had gained a considerable amount of fans after doing his part in killing the mad titan Thanos and by extension, saving the world. It turned out, humankind was a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Loki's hands ached where they wrapped around the pen that he'd been using for nearly 4 hours to neatly place his name, written in neat runescript, on various pieces of merchandise that his fans (and wasn't that a strange thing!) presented to him. He used to think that he would have actually succeeded conquering the earth if he had a grasp on how to use social media and his charm; now, he just wanted the torture to end. An involuntary sigh left his mouth when he saw another print of himself in full battle gear being placed in front of him by a reasonably attractive young woman.

"Um, thank you," She stammered, giggling softly, and Loki spared her a painstaking smile, scribbling his name once again. The woman briefly caught his eyes. "Um, you're the reason- the inspiration for me. I became a stripper."

Loki blanked, feeling his eyes widen and blink on their own accord a few times. He wasn't sure if he heard the woman correctly, as the unusual statement made his brain freeze.

Loud snickering from behind the blushing woman interrupted the system error that he was experiencing in his head. It wasn't often that somebody managed to render him speechless. It looked like whoever was in line behind the stripper woman had taken advantage of that. Loki's eyes snapped to the short-haired person, who looked torn between cringing and breaking into embarrassed laughter.

The stripper left without a word, and as Loki picked up the cursed writing instrument once again, the short-haired person smiled at him kindly. "That was a little weird," They snorted, "And thanks, have a nice day Mr. Loki."

"When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic," Another woman, that appeared to be the short haired person's friend, deadpanned and gave a cynical side-eye to the departing stripper. Loki heard snickering coming from the short-haired person and quietly joined himself. The woman noticed it, winking at him as she collected the newly signed t-shirt. "Bye," She smiled kindly.

It was a split second decision, really. Something about the cheeky way she addressed the situation sparked Loki's interest. "Wait, you forgot something, darling," His baritone called out to the departing woman. She turned around, confused, and hastily grabbed the standard issue photo that he was holding out to her. With a final grateful nod, she smiled and left.

If Loki's smile had returned for the time being, none of his teammates made any remarks on it. Only his brother, Thor, gave a couple of knowing looks to the Asgardian sorcerer.

The woman in question didn't think twice about the photo that she stashed in her backpack along with the signed t-shirt. The Comic-Con had been full of people and the lines were unfairly long. The sheer exhaustion after attending a 3-day long convention had set in and she was eager to simply come home back to her apartment and crash on the nearest soft flat surface. Upon arrival, she did exactly that, flopping down gracelessly on the couch, her backpack landing next to her with a careless thud.

Unloading her trophies was a short time affair: a single white tee with a dozen signatures on it, written in what she hoped was waterproof Sharpie; one mug, shaped like an Iron Man helmet; one poster, showing Spider-Man on a picturesque NYC horizon and a signed photo of one Loki. Strangely enough, she did not remember requesting it - not that she was complaining. Free merch was free merch.

The front side wasn't signed whatsoever. Overcome by curiousity, she turned it around. A phone number was written on the back of it, the handwriting neat and the letters obviously being inked out by a thinner, more sophisticated pen than the one Loki had used for scribbling on the tee. The woman gaped silently, not believing her eyes. Did Loki himself had given her his phone number?

One margarita and a hefty helping of Chinese takeout later, the numbers persisted staring back at her mutely, the neat cursive being almost mocking in its quiet. The woman's smartphone had found a comfortable place right next to the photo, equally mum regarding the unusual situation.

An additional margarita was needed to gather the courage required to actually type out the number in the receiver box. Fruity alcoholic concoction in one hand and phone clutched in the other, the woman's eyes squeezed shut tightly as soon as the dreaded "Hey, got your number today! :)" read delivered. She'd typed and erased the message several times, groaning in embarrassment. How the hell does one approach an alien god?

"Hello! May I ask your name?" The response came after a brief moment - a moment the woman had suffered through by taking too haste sips of her drink, her common since screaming her to not overdo it and wait at least a full minute before replying. Everything felt awkward and misplaced.

In no time, she was sending the screenshots of the conversation to her girl-advice group chat that consisted of her closest friends. Chatting with Loki turned out to be surprisingly easy and he was great at upholding conversation, something that couldn't be said about all those Tinder matches she had had back in the day.

Even if using proper grammar during a text message conversation was something she had to reacquaint herself with, she was glad he wasn't just another boring, shalllow, condescending-ass white boy. Despite the cultural differences and his lack of knowledge of things like pop culture and music - something he said he was working on since New Asgard became a sovereign state on Earth - they bonded over music and tattoos and generally being rebellious against society's standarts.

The invitation to dinner didn't come as a surprise for the woman. She agreed happily, looking forward to continue their conversation outside of the internet - if Loki's part of the chat was anything to go by, not only was he charming, but also quite intelligent. And easy on the the eyes, too. They had traded selfies at some point and the Asgardian didn't look any worse in a hoodie and sweatpants than he did in his battle leathers. Loki had appeared to truly have had integrated into Earth's society.

The night of the date, the continuous text exchange did very little to calm her nerves. Loki texted as much as an overeager teenage boy: every now and then he would double-text and grossly overreact to her sending a simple meme. In fact, he smugly conveyed the fact he'd single-handedly started a meme war between the Avengers and even Steve was forced to participate; something that was, allegedly, out of character for the blonde man.

She didn't mind. Not like she had many friends to have so much fun with. Even if it took her twice the time to do her favourite eyeliner style, it was worth it. She hoped Loki would appreciate the bold, but classy make-up and the dress and shoes combo that accentuated her assets. Her date expressed curiousity about her tattoos and the difference between her preferred style and the humans he spent most time with. She guessed secret agents were not particularly fond of anything that made them memorable so she held out quite the hope for... Showing off some of her tattoos in a more private setting.

In other, simpler words, the woman came in prepared for both a friendly, leisurely stroll and a quality night. Either way, it would be a time well spent.

Loki's shiny, raven hair was impossible to miss as he towered over the rest of the people waiting by the restaurant's entrance. He wore tailored black trousers and a simple cashmere sweater, perfect for the evening's damp, cool air. Tall and lithe, Loki was mouthwateringly handsome.

"Come here often?" She wormed her way through the crowd, causing the man to smirk down at her. Her cheeks flared from the tiny gesture alone.

"Just waiting for a friend," Loki uttered lowly, extending an arm towards the woman, which she gracefully accepted as they made way towards the entrance. "Reservation for Loki," The Asgardian stated to the hostess, who, after a rapid doube-take, led them to a private, secluded area in the back of the restaurant.

Loki shouldered the slightly awkward interaction with grace, paying no mind to the girl. His focus was solely on his date and he was nothing but gallant as he took the woman's purse and held out the chair for her to comfortably sit down. As a prince, he was taught well, she mused.

"Usually I would ask 'what brings you to our little ball of water and dirt?' but I think we can skip that part," The woman stated with a sheepish grin, idly flicking through the menu and curiously eyeing the items that were unfamiliar. The desire to try something new fought with the possibility of accidentally ordering something too far out - like snails or other things that rich people fancied, for some reason.

Loki's greens briefly appeared over the top of his menu, grateful and sparkling. "I think it's best if we do just that," For a second, he looked away, before returning to the menu. "I can think of better things to discuss. I recall you didn't finish telling me about that college friend of yours, who was an anarchist... I'm dying to know..."

The waiter came and went, barely noticed by the pair, as they both poked at something that sounded the most familiar for both of them. Stoically, Loki admitted that Tony Stark did the booking for him and the woman reluctantly acquitted she wasn't very familiar with upscale establishments, being of middle-class background and working a middle-class job.

Interrupting the story she began telling hours ago, the woman took the time to point out the things she was familiar with on the menu and advised Loki to stay away from - like the aforementioned snails, and other things, slimy and salty things that she considered to be 'disgusting but rich people liked it for some reason'. The conversation slowly progressed into Loki telling her the mischief he got up to at the feasts Odin threw. The Asgardian shared the woman's disregard for influential people doing gross things to show off.

The food was good - it was really hard to miss with a traditional Italian lasagna - and seeing Loki shovel an obscene amount of food was an experience, but she didn't comment on it, tactful enough to consider his alien biology might have different dietary requirements that her human one. It was great, really, that she could order dessert and not feel guilty about it.

The gelato melted in her mouth like sweet ecstasy and she moaned with her next bite, only partly aware of how obscene really was the noise.

Loki's hand stuttered on it's way to his mouth. Wide-eyed, he stared at her lips, at her mouth, where her tongue lapped up the small drops of dessert from the spoon. "Why the split tongue?" The Asgardian finally gathered his wits, having had a good look of what he was sure was a trick of the eye at first.

She grinned, acutely aware of the effect that particular body modification had on men. "I like being different. I embrace the weird." She giggled, not at all ashamed, sticking out her tongue and wiggling both parts of it teasingly.

Loki's Adam's apple bobbed; "Weird?" He raised his eyebrow, fighting to maintain his previous cool composure.

She nodded. "Weird," She retorted coyly. "I usually don't divulge the details at least until the third date. Wouldn't want to scare my potential suitors off," The playful wink was the proverbial cherry on top. He was hooked, his eyes darkened, following the plump arch of her lips as she took another spoonful of the treat and savoured it, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

It was pornographic.

"Obviously, Midgardians don't know what's good for them," Loki scoffed in his usual bored monotone, fully aware of how fitful his attempt to conceal his excitement was. He sounded needy even to his own ears.

"And you do?" She pushed away the empty plate, chastely patting her mouth with a napkin. The raised eyebrow and the little smirk spoke volumes.

The grin he wore was hardly anything but feral; he asked for the waiter's assistance by flicking his wrist in an impatient fashion. Once the bill was paid and the woman's cardigan found its rightful place on her shoulders, Loki once again took hold of her arm, this time holding her smaller body against his larger one, taking care to slow down and keep his strides shorter.

She found the coolness of his presence refreshing in the moist, heavy air of the New York city.

"Where to, milady?" Loki asked her, looking down at the woman fondly.

"My place is a block away. Walk me, good sir?" She gave a delightfully easy smile in return.

He nodded, letting her lead the way, allowing himself to get a little bit lost in their shared presence, a little bubble of them in the middle of a busy city. It was as if someone had quickly turned down the volume of the honking cars and noisy pedestrians around them, leaving the soft breeze and the sun slowly descending below the skyscrapers. It felt far too short, partaking in the comfortable silence together, skin tingling under the thin layers of cloth where they were touching.

The sun was trapped in the strands of her hair as she smiled at him from her doorway, worrying her lip between her teeth. It was a bittersweet moment.

"A kiss good night for the good sir?" She asked hopefully, eyes darting between his face and his mouth.

Loki obliged, resting his palm flat on the door frame, towering over the woman as he gently slotted his thin, cool lips against her warm ones. The woman stood on her tippy toes, eager, placing a hand on his chest. The pair melted into the kiss - it had no business being this mind-blowing, brain-freezing for two people that have not met until that very day. The woman didn't refuse when Loki probed with his tongue, requesting entrance to her mouth; she licked into his own with fervor, fisting her hands in the soft fabric of his sweater.

With the hand that was free, Loki pulled the woman flush with himself, feeling the heat of her start a fire of its own inside of him. Her breathing rapid, the gesture only served to tighten her hold on his sweater, until a soft, barely audible moan slipped into his mouth, causing his brain to quickly reassess the situation.

Regretfully, Loki pulled away, clearing his throat. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," He meaningfully looked at the array of doors around them.

"I thought you'd never ask," She retorted with a fond eyeroll, tightening the grip on his sweater once more, to pull him inside her apartment and shut the door behind her. The awkward moments were few and in between; neither knew who reached for the other first, mashing their mouths with less grace than before, clutching at the other's arms and hips with hunger.

This time, Loki didn't hold back his own muted groans of satisfaction, shivering when the woman's hands snuck under his sweater and the simple tank top he wore underneath. Blunt nails scraped along his abs.

Step by step, she pushed him further inside her apartment, determined in her small quick strides. There was no mistake of their destination; no mistake in her desire: she was as hungry and as impatient as him. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, long arms extending to unzip the top of her dress to reveal a simple but tasteful black lacy bra covering her breasts. The woman barely noticed the action, stepping out of her dress as soon as it hit the floor.

He admired her. Inches of soft skin covered by intricate ink, some patterns bizarre and complicated, some beautiful in their simplicity. Loki couldn't wait to find out about the meaning behind every one of them, to trace the lines with his tongue and sink his teeth into the heated flesh.

The hands that were holding onto him for dear life tugged on his sweater and he chose to simply vanish it, too preoccupied with looking at the view in front of him. She gasped and her eyes met his: uncanny, magnetic emeralds shone with magic and power and desire.

"Fuck," She more mouthed than said, walking backwards in a trance until her shins hit the bed.

Loki grinned, advancing on the panting woman with the grace of a predator. "Darling?" His tone was innocent; his expression was anything but. His large hand encompassesed the side of her face, thumb running over her bottom lip in a possessive gesture that had her squirming in her place. He loved the way she just melted into his touch.

Their lips met again, slower this time. The kiss was once again graceful and unrushed, allowing them to explore the softness of each other's skin, mapping the arches and valleys with gentle strokes of their palms. The broad expanse of Loki's back was uneven, riddled with scars and blemishes, and she mapped every single one, blunt nails raking down it as she pressed into him, arching into his hands where he held her.

The soft flesh of her ass, barely covered by a scrap of black lace, was shamelessly grabbed - the woman didn't doubt there would be marks left - letting her feel his arousal pressed against her belly, hard and twitching. She didn't resist her desire to ge handsy and palmed it, taking note of the gasp and the twitch coming from the man occupied with the clasp of her bra. In no time, it flew away, forgotten somwhere the very moment Loki's palms took over her breasts, running a careful thumb over each nipple.

"Fuck," She parroted her previous statement, equally breathy and considerably more aroused.

"That's the plan," Loki's chuckle was hoarse.

She huffed, biting her bottom lip before reaching out to swiftly pop the button of his trousers, smirking at the hiss the friction of her palm produced against his cock. It shouldn't have surprised her that Loki was a commando kind of guy, but still, she gasped, partially from the ministrations of his clever fingers, partially from the mouthwatering sight in front of her. The thick, flushed length made saliva gather in the corners of her mouth.

He must've heard the audible swallow. "Not so haste, darling," He tutted, giving her relaxed body a gentle push, causing her to land on her back, heated skin against the soft duvet of her bed. "Let me taste you," A thud; Loki had dropped to his knees, using his large palms to spread her legs, opening her up to his eyes.

If his previous work hadn't made her so pliant, so aroused, she'd have been rendered speechless; instead, the woman arched her back, presenting herself and the desire that had pooled down below. The Asgardian chuckled, fingertips soft against the scratchy lace.

"Tease," The woman moaned, outstretching her arm to guide him but quite unable to reach him. She had to settle for squirming in her place, receiving a fraction of the desired traction against her swollen lips.

"Am I, love?" Loki asked her sweetly, caving enough to dip a single finger to run along the outside of her slit. It glided easily thanks to all the moisture gathered there, lips parting easily before his touch. The panties were vanished away promptly, another finger joining in immediately to rub slow, precise circles around her clit.

She keened low and long, fisting the fabric in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Loki knew what he was doing. It didn't take him very long to slide his long digits to the welcoming heat of her opening, dipping them inside until she began to make the noises he so craved. His mouth followed after that, long agile tongue drawing senseless shapes on the inside of her labia and dipping deeper, where her clit stood out engorged and slick.

He could smell the bittersweet of her arousal, mouthwatering and hot.

"Loki, fuck," She moaned, only half-coherent and partially aware of her own hips following his every stroke, every flick. He only advanced, hitting that sweet spot inside her with every stroke; the sparks traveling up her spine quickened with each time she changed his name like a prayer. "Loki, Loki, Loki..."

He growled, attaching his mouth firmly to her clit, and she arched for the final time, coming undone, squeezing around his fingers and gushing in his mouth, the obscene sounds covered by her own scream of delight and his impatient growling. The growling that sent shivers of aftershocks throughout her body.

"Darling, you taste so sweet," Loki groaned, still panting.

She took the time to open her eyes: Loki looked comically out of place in her bedroom, he dwarfed her bed and made her feel small, but it didn't matter at all at that very moment. His erection stood out hard and proud; despite the leg-shaking orgasm just moments ago, she wanted more, she wanted to taste him, she wanted to feel him inside-

With unsurprising agility, one swift motion was all it took for her to rest comfortably against the pillows, his throbbing member resting against the juncture of her thigh. She tasted her own release on his lips, however brief, whispering a weak, "Please," aching to feel the emptiness.

"As my lady wishes," Loki's cool breath ghosted over her cheek. She waited with baited breath until the tip of his manhood breached her, exhaling a moan into his neck and immediately wrapping her lips around a patch of skin as he stretched her so sweet.

Loki's arms shook slightly as he waited for her to adjust. He kissed her, soft and sweet; there was something vulnerable in him, something as sweet as the ache he'd taken away. Once he began to move, slow and fluid, all there was left was an all-consuming need to feel. As graceful as dancer and with a deadly precision, Loki pounded gasps, moans and screams out of the woman's slack mouth, kisses turning hungrier and sloppier by the second.

"So sweet," He cooed, relishing in the snug grip of her cunt around him.

She only keened in approval, too far gone and unused to the intensity of the feelings from a man with centuries of practice and the power of a god.

His thrusts slowed gradually until he was rutting into her, grinding his pelvic bone into her clit. The gasps and screams turned into drawn-out, longing moans; her hips followed his, meeting in a slow, sensual motion.

Loki was not a patient man. He withdrew - she gasped in protest - flipping the woman over on her fours with ease, taking but a split second to admire the curve of her body presented on display for him. Just for him.

With that thought burning in his mind, Loki sheathed his cock deeply inside her spasming cunt. It was nearly unbearably stimulating and only his own desire to prolong the bliss held back his own impending orgasm. That, and his own ego; he was naught if not a generous lover.

She slurred something, quiet and incorrigible, fucking back onto his cock as eagerly as he was plunging into her heat. The hand he'd placed on her shoulder promptly wrapped around her throat in hopes of lifting her close enough for him to hear the words but instead, it sent a full-bodied shiver throughout her. Loki grinned, tugging her that much closer.

The arch in her back looked quite uncomfortable yet she didn't mind; it was the exact opposite, in fact, her cunt tightened around him, drenching his shaft down to his balls. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his thigh, the sting of pain going straight to his cock-

"Loki, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" She slurred, gasping for air.

He weakened his hold on her throat enough to let her gulp the so-needed oxygen. It was her undoing: was it the rapid pace of oxygenated blood traveling to her brain or was it his cock, mercilessly pounding against her g-spot - she was violently spasming around his cock, much like she did around his fingers not too long ago.

It felt like ages, her crescendo coming in waves with no signs of stopping any time soon. Loki's continuous thrusts, his hips slamming into hers, her skin feeling like molten lava.

"Gonna fill your sweet cunt with my seed," Loki moaned lowly, holding her up by the throat, the other hand leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the outside of her hips. "Mark you from the inside out," His voice had gone into primal territory, growling filling up the room.

"Please..." The woman rasped, oversensitive.

And he pleased, with a series of sharp thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt in her, the force of his release making her shudder and moan once against, going limp in his arms. Loki kept her in her place until every drop was inside of her cunt. Nothing was sweeter than that.

The Asgardian didn't bother with getting under the covers to hold her, conjuring a soft, comfortable throw in modest green, to cover their nudity. He didn't need the extra warmth but his companion was by far more fragile and sensitive to these things- Loki's fingertips traced the array of bruises he'd left in the wake of their passion, expression surprised as he found the woman smiling.

"Feels nice," She supplied meekly, eyes half-lidded, face trusting and open towards him.

He gave a small grin in return, placing a chaste kiss atop her head. "Yes, it does, darling."

Time after time, she didn't expect much out if their date. The sex was nice, nice enough for both of them to want seconds and thirds after their rushed first time - but it wasn't like she expected him to hand around. It was a pleasant change from the usual mutual ghosting she'd done with her previous partners, but Loki had texted again and they had resumed their conversation via text like nothing had happened.

No, that would be incorrect. Now, she had a wonderful friend who was a great conversationalist and an even better lover. There was no pressure to put a label on their relationship so the woman didn't bother with it; it didn't seem like Loki cared about the label, either, so she left the topic alone and enjoyed things the way they were. It wasn't like she had a line of suitors anyway.

She couldn't help the smile that creeped onto her face when she unlocked her phone and saw a video call request from other than Loki himself. She still had thirty minutes worth of lunch break to waste and this was a wonderful time to chat with a friend.

"Stark, hand it back or I swear to Norns-" Loki's voice sounded agitated and far away, accompanied by sounds of a struggle; the bearded, smug face on the screen was not who she expected at all. Only years of customer service and low bullshit tolerance combined stopped her from freaking out seeing none other than Tony Stark smirking at her from the screen of her phone.

"Yes?" She arched an eyebrow, taking note of the anger of Loki's tone.

"Hi, I don't think I need to introduce myself," Stark babbled, eyeing her - disheveled and with a wall full of sticky notes and miscellaneous items acting as the background to her video. "Reindeer games refused to show you to us so we decided to persuade him," Tony's grin grew wider, muted whispers being rapidly exchanged in the background all the while Loki screeched "BROTHER!" and various expletives at the top of his lungs.

"You could've, I dunno," She paused, unimpressed. "Asked me to dinner, like a normal person. Instead of stealing, you know, like a thief," The eyeroll that she performed had the team worried her eyes would fall out of their sockets.

"I merely borrowed his phone, don't be dramatic," Stark huffed, and for a moment, she could see various other people trying to look at the screen and by extension, at her. "So, what is it that you do? Because Smurf over there wouldn't..."

"Oops, bad signal. Sorry, can't hear you properly," Her side of the call suddenly shook and in a moment, she ended the call, not at all willing to deal with people that lacked boundaries. Sure, it might have been Iron Man, but if he was planning on being a snooping asshole, she wasn't gonna go down with that easily.

Exactly five minutes after she had clocked out, an incoming call from Loki had her equal parts excited and mortified. What if..? But he was apologetic. And very angry, swearing in his native language - something that he'd promised to teach her at some point.

"So, Clint did it?" She sipped her beverage, strolling home with the phone pressed snugly against her ear.

"Most of it was his fault, yes," Loki grouched on the other end of the call.

"I vote we get back at him. Invite me over, if he's so inclined to see me, and watch him get humiliated in front of everybody," It wasn't a secret she had her own mischievous tendencies.

"As much as I appreciate your vigour, darling, I doubt the Widow will appreciate you verbally castrating the Hawk in public," He replied sourly, his voice still betraying the faint notes of interest.

"I have a backup plan!" She stated without a hitch. "He'll embarrass himself and I'll be your alibi."

"I'm listening," Loki perked up immediately.

They decided to not to stall and schedule the 'family dinner', as Thor himself dubbed it, for the next available weekend. Loki had made sure Tony's AI had been made aware the trickster would be gone all day, and it took him very little magic and effort to pop in and out of the tower for the five minutes that were needed to execute their prank.

His friend barely managed to keep the snickering at bay as they ascended the elevator to the common floor where the dinner was being held. Not only that, but the woman spouted an area of dark purple love marks, barely obscured by the low turtleneck of her blouse.

She made her introductions and they made theirs. "This affair could use some background noise," She remarked off-handedly, casting a meaningful glance at the TV.

Tony Stark was known for being a great host so he entertained her wishes, flicking on the huge flat screen with a flick of his wrist.

The team froze.

"I... -" The woman stared at the screen, mouth hanging wide open at the scenes that played out. "... am not going to kinkshame, but please turn it off," She stated in a small voice, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the mass of tentacles commencing erotic assault on a woman's body.

Wordlessly, the TV shut down, immersing the room in stunned silence. Loki face-palmed, the slap of his palm against his face echoing in the eerily quiet room.

"Loki!" Captain America, red as a tomato, instantly accused the most obvious person.

Except, he had forgotten one thing. "Loki was with me all day," The woman replied, unkindly. "Do you need more proof?" She tugged on the hem of her turtleneck, exposing an inch of skin marked blue.

The good Captain's face changed the shade once again, venturing very well into beetroot territory. "Who was the last one to use the TV?" Rogers asked, now with a hint of anger, as he stared at a guffawing Bucky.

"I believe it was Mr. Barton," The AI piped up, mechanical voice sounding almost insinuating. Or, perhaps, it just appeared that way.

#loki x reader #Loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston #it's 4am y'all #we be THIRSTY

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

looking for love.

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. general. tags. none. kook’s just real cute, as per usual. wc. 1.5k. author note. @lcksndkys requested this and also, i just reaaaally wanted to make an edit showing kook’s tinder. lmao.

“Isn’t Tinder for, y’know, hookups?”

The question comes casual, innocent, with that round stare that always catches you off guard. If it were anyone else, you’d probably tear into him - berate him for his dated ideas of love.

Instead, you quirk a brow and roll your eyes, tossing a wayward crumb at him. Your companion huffs, indignant and yet still soft, mouth curling into the pout he always does when he’s embarrassed or put-off. Tattooed hands sweep across the front of his shirt, plucking the lint away to return the fabric to immaculate neatness.

“Is there something wrong with hookups, Jungkookie?” You’re daring him to voice his opinion, surprise you with whatever antiquated reasoning he has.

But of course, because he’s Jungkook, he’s too tender, too nice. His brow furrows, fingers knotting together as he finds his words. “I just— I just don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.” Broad shoulders roll, dislodge the lime cotton of his plaid from the mountainous frame of his body. When he speaks, he won’t quite meet your stare - of course - opting instead to focus on the lacquered wood grain of his coffee table. “Don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

It’s not what you’d expected - the farthest thing from the usual slut-shaming you tend to hear - but you’re not surprised. Can’t be, honestly.

“Baby.”

Jungkook’s head snaps up, big doe eyes bouncing to yours with a mixture of aghast and confusion. You’ve never used a pet name with him. You’ve barely been friends for a month. He’s about to rebuff you - or ask or dp something - when you cut him off.

“As in, you’re being a baby.”

You do take a little pride in how his expression breaks apart, crashes into a barricade of your words. He’s just so easy to tease, makes you laugh full-belly and unabashed when his ears tip red and the same colour ascends up the column of his throat.

(It’s always very cute, reminiscent of schoolyard teasing between friends. You’re careful never to dig too deeply, though. You don’t want any scars left behind, no gravel when he slips and falls.)

“I’m just being—”

“A baby.”

He huffs, scoffs, makes a bunch of noise that doesn’t amount to very much. Then he slips his phone out of his pocket and sets it between you, laid on the glass top of his coffee table. An offering - or a reluctant acceptance, if his expression is anything to go by.

“Fine. Go ahead.” Even as he speaks, it takes a moment for his hand to retract, fist itself back between his crossed legs.

“Passcode,” you prompt, tapping the screen with a neatly manicured nail.

He enters it. 0127. (A date?) As if he can read your mind: “It’s my mom’s birthday.” Of course it is.

You only shake your head, laughing sweetly. “Very on brand.” You don’t mean it harshly. Family’s important to you, and if his standing Sunday meals with his own are any indication, they are to him too.

“We’ll start with Tinder and see how that goes. I think you might have better luck on Bumble but…” It’s a sideways glance, peeked out from beneath the cascading curtain of hair that falls over your shoulder. You’re so shy is what you don’t say. You don’t want to discourage him when it’s taken you an entire month to get him to accept your help in the first place.

“But I’m a baby?” Luckily, Jungkook’s a good sport. (You’ve learnt that over the weeks. Sandwiched in between his bashfulness and his bunny smile, there’s a warmth he never seems to tamper down. That he has no interest in changing. You envy him that, at least a little bit.)

Rather than answer, you shrug, apologetic smile forming tiny and private across your lips.

He, for all his differences from you, gets what you mean. He doesn’t hold it against you.

“Okay, so—” You scoot closer - the edge of your baby toe brushes the soft soft soft material of his trousers - and you extend the phone between you. “You need to choose some photos you like. I’m not going to do it for you but I’ll help you narrow them down.”

You have a feeling he’ll need the help but you don’t necessarily want to force your own preferences on him. Compromise seems important when navigating the whole signing-your-friend-up-for-a-dating-app thing.

“Just any photos?” The iPhone looks so much smaller in his hands, thumb swiping through his photo library. (You can already tell you’re going to disagree on which pictures go up. Can feel it in your bones, tingling the tips of your fingers.)

“Yep. Just any.” You do your best not to backseat pick, leaning away from him as he continues with his selections. He’s already picked six of them. (Six? Six?! Who does he think he is— Brad Pitt?)

“Here.”

All at once, the device is back in your hands or rather, tossed in your lap. Less ceremonious than usual, decidedly more nervous. You want to tease him for this, too, but don’t. Bite back the mockery and swallow it down, focusing instead on the profile that glares back up at you.

Okay, so, not awful choices. There are at least two you insist upon: one with his tattoos on display and another in a pool. Both thirst traps in their own regard.

“I really like this—” You’re moving the photo to the first spot. “You look really good and it’s a clear photo, so no one’s going to think you’re catfishing.”

Jungkook blinks - channels Bambi the baby deer - and cocks his head. “Do people actually do that?”

You don’t mean to sound so exasperated. Really, you don’t. He’s just so… him. “All the time. Or they use really edited photos. Ones you can’t really see their faces in.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You almost pat him on the head. “Let’s use this one too.”

His response is immediate, as is the colour that presents itself across his neck, up over the apples of his cheeks. “I’d rather not.”

“Why’d you pick it then?”

“W-well—” You don't know how honest he’s being, whether he really doesn’t want to use it or if he’s afraid of being that guy. You’d bet good money it’s the latter. “Just—” You’re staring at him and he can’t look away. You can see how badly he wants to by how hard he’s biting his cheek, hollow formed by the motion. “Can we please pick something else?”

You relent with a huff, removing the pool photo from the running. “Fine.”

He’s trying to fix you with that awkward smile of his but you steadfastly ignore him. (He does it often, any time you have any sort of disagreement. It’s utterly unfair how well it works on you when you’d much rather just continue to give him a hard time.)

“Okay, what’s with all the group photos?” You count at least three and while he, admittedly, looks really good, it seems like overkill. “We’re trying to find you a girlfriend, not your friends.”

The poor boy’s perplexed, brow furrowing. “But they’re my friends.”

“And?”

“They’re a part of my life?”

“Okay and?”

“Can you stop doing that?”

“No.”

You’re both glaring at each other. It’s like siblings bickering (or an old married couple).

“You can keep one.” You’re being lenient, you think. “You don’t want to detract from you just so you can include your friends.” (And also, like, who cares. As a former Tinder user, one of your biggest pet peeves had been people who messaged you about your friends.)

“Fine.” Of course, he’s pouting. You don’t care.

“Let’s go with these three.” The screen is tilted toward him - not offered enough that he can snatch it away - but so he can see. You’re running this show, after all.

“Deal.”

“Wait, are these from the same day? That’s kind of—”

Jungkook wails a noise you’ve never heard before, equal parts faux frustration and amused desperation. It screws up his nose and makes little crow’s feet appear at the corners of his eyes. “Stoooop, please.”

Now it’s your turn to huff.

“What else do I need?”

“A bio.”

The last thing you expect is for him to pull his phone from your grasp, as if he’s been waiting for this moment all afternoon. (Maybe he really had wanted to join Tinder? Had you been hoodwinked? Bamboozled? Had Jeon Jungkook played you like a fiddle?)

Something like disbelief colours your expression when he presents his cool new bio to you, the absolute dumbest smile on his face. Reading it flips your features and rearranges them into a mask of shock. (That and disdain. It’s not a bad bio, per se, but it’s—

Well, it does fit Jungkook. You can’t deny that.)

“Nice guy with nice dreams it is.”

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

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dropsofletters · 3 years

Text

how to lose someone in seven steps? | ten

— summary: when she gets the opportunity to record her first music video, she doesn’t expect the director to be this enigmatic and vain. ten throws his head back, squinting his eyes at her mere presence, inspecting her every move, and she feels like threatening him. it shouldn’t be that hard to fulfill her promise of breaking his heart.

— title: how to lose someone in seven steps? — pairing: ten x reader — genre: music video producer!au ; bet!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; love experiment!au — type: fluff ; romance ; humor ; drama ; angst — word count: 10,850 — playlist: no blueberries – dpr ian (ft. cl and dpr live) ; diamonds – rihanna ; love me less – max ; my my my – troye sivan ; fever – dua lipa ; ex – sik-k (ft. chacha malone) — note: you have to read the prologue before reading this route.

One would say that she has never gone through heartbreak. One meaning…she says it all the damn time. It’s what she manages to let out with a cramped smile on her face, hands expanding for further emphasizing. Heartbreak is not my thing.

It’s the thing she told herself with one of the last men she dated (Or is it ‘saw’, ‘went out with’? This generation has changed the terms exponentially), when she pulled the straps of her dress up her shoulders, knowing that inside his heart there was someone else. The blood of a singer told her to go for passion—to fight the competition like a champion would, but love is not a matter of winning. It never is. It’s about how much you can lose in one go, and if you’re smart enough, you’ll rationalize the pieces to share with several people. Give out one? Forget it’s ever coming back.

The hairstylist—and it’s so weird to say this without a giddy feeling inside her chest—pulls at her hair harshly enough for her eyebrows to raise the slightest. A face lift wasn’t necessary, but she might as well start thinking about one in the future with the amount of stress that has piled up inside her at the mention of a music video recording. The short woman manages to smile, cheeks puffed out in ways that makes the speckles of pink on her cheeks glisten under the harsh lights of the preparation room. Staff goes around and comes around, like flies on a summer day, while Hao, her manager, keeps looking down at his phone like a maniac.

She reaches forward, trying her hardest not to confuse her migraine with the headache induced by the pull of her hair. This ponytail is so high up her head that she may as well start using it as an antenna, old school style, to get some signal. Instead, her fingertips wrap around Hao’s hand, pulling it down to have him looking at her. “Hey, care to be my friend and my manager at the same time and help me feel less like…?” Looking around, she lowers her voice. “Like shit?”

For the first time in a while, Hao doesn’t look like a father. His khaki shorts have been exchanged for something far more presentable—a suit that fits him like a glove, his hair pushed away from his face in elegance. His hand comes forward to rub her cheek softly, only to hear a hiss from the stylist.

“Don’t touch her makeup.” For someone as small as the stylist, she surely has some bite to her. Hao’s hand pulls away as if she was made of electricity, rubbing his fingers together in hopes of not having any leftover makeup on his fingertips. The makeup, however, makes her feel different. It’s the vision of the director, she knows this much, of the new record label that had taken up on her with the promise of a contract only if this song does well. The thick eyeliner on her eyelids looks much better than anything she had tried—eyes elongated, almost cat-like, as if she’s ready to eat the world just by glaring around.

“You’re going to do fine.” Hao instructs, a wave of his hand coming soon after. “Besides, I called one of your friends to come here and support you through all this,” One of her many friends, whose tears have become one with her skin, whose smiles are glimpses of her soul—whose tastes have come merged with her in some way or another. Friendship is such a beautiful thing. “Since I’m shit at it. Don’t ask me who it is, though, because I literally can’t tell the difference between any of them.”

“Genius.” She replies, feeling once again a tug at her hair before an elastic band wrapped around the strands. Harshly. “Ah, Siyeon…could you try to go softer on me?”

“No.” Siyeon says, a tiny smile to her face. “This ponytail has to stay in place so the director sees if it’s a good look. I need to do my best so I don’t have to think about any other styling.”

“…Good.” Though, she can’t say anything else. At this point, the director sounds awfully like a dictator. “If you don’t know who is coming to support me, how did you contact them?”

“I just press one of the many numbers I have.” Hao turns his screen to showcase it to her, and she can’t muffle the laughter that escapes her lips.

“Who the fuck is ‘Friend Number Three’?”

“She was parking, so I imagine we’ll figure it out in a second.”

“Hao,” Her voice is tiny as she starts, eyes drifting to the person in the mirror. It’s not her—it’s a version of herself she hasn’t seen often. Thick leather jacket draped on her shoulders in a way that tugs them down, accompanied by a floral button down that were pushed inside her—surprise, leather—pants. Well-hidden, stylish, with no flaws flourishing just yet; she looks different, all thanks to Siyeon’s work. “How is it that you manage a bunch of artists but can’t remember the name of my seven friends? I’m your favorite represented artist.”

Not that he had openly said it without being in a drunken blur, but he doesn’t deny it. She is, indeed, his favorite. Perhaps, reminding her of his daughter that lives with her mother, far away from the country, never once sparing him a glance for not having a future. It’s been years since Hao has tried to demonstrate his broken family that he is a good manager. “They’re just too chatty. I can’t remember any of their personalities exactly.”

“Look at those thighs! Damn, girl, we’re going to have to get you on Tinder before all that beauty is wasted.”

When the opportunity rises to run away, she always opts not to. The world is harsh at it is, but it seems a hell of a lot less like a burden when people like Angela made their ways through her life. With her bangs perfectly placed over her forehead, a blue sweater cladding her body, she holds a cake on her hands. Pearly white but with sprinkles in blue, the same shade as the icing on top that reads ‘congratulations!’ along with her name.

Because, relationships end in heartbreak—they are unnecessary findings that we thirst for because they are, apparently, much different from friendship, but friendship is exponentially better. Angela came to her life in the form of a baker in one of the first spots she performed in for some money—her guitar case was opened as she played miraculously, and just when Angela went out to ask her to cut it out, she stopped herself. Instead, they relished in a deep conversation about music that sooner than later translated into meetings as friends.

“You’re friend number three!” She utters with a smile on her face, though not quite being able to move her face with the tightness of her hairstyle. Instead, Angela holds the cake on one hand, the other wrapping around her shoulder to press a kiss to her highlighter-coated cheek.

“The makeup!” Siyeon screeches, both hands reaching her face comically, and the blinding lights by the vanity make her look even funnier. Angela pulls away with uncertainty on her face, widening her eyes comically before humming.

“I understand…sorry.” She whispers, soon after recomposing herself to let Hao hug her from the side. Her eyes look up at the older male, her straight teeth perched in a shy smile. “You didn’t know my name, right?”

“…Angela?” Hao hesitates, and the woman in question groans comically.

“Hey, at least he remembered!” She defends her manager, feeling one last tug at her hair until Siyeon pats both hands on her shoulders.

“You’re ready.”

When standing up from her seat, she watches as Angela and Hao talk comically. The woman must be at least thirteen years older than Angela, if not more, and yet she argues with him as if he’s one of the workers at her bakery. “Name all our friend group, come on!”

“Too many people.” His lips wrap around the words comically, lowering himself slightly to come face to face with this cake. “And what is this cake for?”

“Our star is finally getting her first music video. I’m just getting on the bandwagon before she rockets into stardom.” Angela’s trust goes over the roof. She’s stubborn—even for the good things. No one can get through her mind when an idea has settled inside her brain.

“Oh, stop it.” She says, silently licking her lips as she watches the dulcet treat in front of her. Would it be a good idea to eat cake when her lips are tainted in the deepest shade of red? She can already hear Siyeon screaming inside her head. “You’re talking as if I’m the next Lady Gaga.”

“You’re not the next anyone,” Angela says. “You’re the new you.”

“Poetic.” Though, she can’t quite imagine herself to be more than she already is. For one, she has been practically living off having her guitar case opened anywhere she goes, singing to her heart’s content, never once meeting the deadlines of her life. Planning done a mess, she roams this world like an archive, searching for the will of continuing with this dream. Hao is one of the few people that reminded her she has a future in this, and maybe, that has to deal with the fact that he actually gets paid from what she does. “I don’t think I can have a slice right now, though. Got my makeup done and all.”

“It’s okay.” Angela chirps, putting the cake down on a vanity before sighing. “I’ll keep it here until you’re over with the recording.”

Hao shakes his head then, letting go of Angela. “Oh no, the recording’s not today.”

“You said recording.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Look it up,” Hao indicates, pointing at her phone. “I didn’t say recording.”

But Angela, as always, never once wanting to be wrong, shakes her head. “I don’t need to. I’m sure you said recording—”

“Either way…” She interrupts, knowing damn well that Angela is an excellent friend, and even better at baking, but extremely bad at having anyone try to change her mind. “I’m just going to meet the director and see if my styling is right for his vision. He’ll explain the schedule today and whatnot.”

Angela’s brown eyes become anchors to her body, pulling away to squint at her. “You look cute.” She says, though, she hears that from every single one of her friends. Sometimes, when she’s feeling her worst, she starts to believe everyone in a liar—you’re a nice singer, you have a great future ahead, you’re beautiful. All fucking lies when the time is wrong. “I feel like you’re one of those…one of those grunge kids.”

“Oh no, this is not grunge.” She answers, pointing at her outfit. “This is something very movie-esque. Not grunge, definitely.”

“Maybe, you have a future as a movie star.”

She rolls her eyes at Angela’s antics. Her positivism meets that of a mother’s sometimes. “Where? A porno?”

“Oh my God, no!” Angela swats her hand over her shoulder, only lifting her gaze when they hear her name being called. Not by Siyeon, but by one of the staff members—if she recalls correctly, the director’s assistant, Hong. With a twirl of his fingers, calling her over, she starts moving, Angela following right after her. “You’re learning a little too much from Yifei.”

She chuckles, knowing damn well that Yifei is the jokester of the group. “Maybe, I have more of a future as a comedian.”

“Hold your horses, Joker.”

“…Are you trying to tell me I’m going to go batshit crazy if people don’t laugh at my jokes? Because, that’s what the Joker did.”

“I’m telling you…” Angela trails her voice, her sneakers a nice companion to the click of the heels in her boots. “That you’re going to do fine in whatever you put your mind into.” The warmth of her words reaches her in a way that has a smile appearing on her face. Praise isn’t that bad after all.

“Thank you, Ang—”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck—”

“What?”

Angela’s hand tightens around her own when Hong opens the door to the director’s office, her nails digging into her skin as she watches the man in front of them. A black button down leaves the first few buttons open to welcome his taut chest, a leather jacket half thrown over one shoulder, falling off the other for the zippers on the sleeves to meet his ripped jeans. His long black hair curls a bit onto itself at the edges, damp from humidity, though his face is the most impressive. A nicely structured nose that makes the edges of his face even better to look at, twinkling eyes and thin lips. Rosy, at that.

“That’s my ex.” Angela whispers, only to have looking over her shoulder. Hong, whose bleached blonde hair barely reaches his ears and stands at least a foot taller than the director, may be her ex in this situation.

“Hong?”

“What? No.” Angela frowns deeply, lifting one hand in the air to greet her past lover. “Ten, how’s it been?”

The covers are blown at that moment—actually, shot away and straight through her heart when she watches the director stare at Angela in recognition, battling to put a smile on his face that doesn’t look panicked or angry. He moves forward the slightest, crossing both arms over his chest before replying. “Angela, long time no see. May I ask what are you doing here?”

Ten.

Wait.

That name sounds like something she has heard before…

Four months ago, drunken night, Ten was in a picture Angela had showed her on her phone and she had promised to break his heart at the time. Not that she was thinking straight, really, this man probably shatters the souls of millions of people on the daily—someone that good looking is, at least, a Greek god of sorts.

“I’m supporting my friend, considering she was about to meet the director of her new music video.” Angela replies, watching as Ten’s eyebrows lift on his forehead, albeit a bit stuck in his own thoughts.

“Mhm, alright.” Ten says, opening the door of his office with delicate motions of his body, as if balance exists within him, only to continue his train of thoughts. “But Angela can’t come inside. I have a recording in an hour and I have to make this quick.”

“That’s okay.” Angela replies quickly, pulling her hand away from her before mumbling softly. “Get ready to deal with the most stubborn asshole you’ve ever met.”

And that, coming from Angela, baker bridezilla that is not actually getting married to start with, just is the first big, twinkling, red light that comes with Ten.

###

Magic died the day sentimentalism did. When break-ups started to happen though texts, or when kids stopped living the best ages of their lives to be on social media, or try to be adults. Magic relished on its death when people stopped caring for others, when seeing someone falling on the floor was more of a call out for laughter than a reason to help them stand up. Magic died within her, somehow, someway, in a road to utter lack of empathy. She knows that, in order to come out of life as a champion, she had to protect herself over all.

So, why is it, that when seated on that elongated table at Ten’s office, she feels like there is some mystic power that is held over her? Beauty in the form of him, in the white and black decorations but how he spices them up. There is good and there is bad. There is sadness that meets his happiness, in the somberness of the black and the speckles of colors that he has in family pictures and in some drawings that he holds up on the walls. Something about him…something about him calls out for interest, even when the last time she saw him, just one week ago, he was quickened with his words, never once looking at her, never once stopping to breathe.

This time around, her face is not pulled by a ponytail and she remains as makeup-less as possible, tapping her fingers against the table and watching Hao and Hong speak within themselves about some music videos that they enjoy. On the other hand, she has kept herself quiet, letting herself relish on the feeling of just not feeling at all. It’s the limbo of life, when she doesn’t know if she should be happy or sad, and she decides to be numb. Comfortable, sure, but not exactly good for a musician.

The doors open at that moment, a little bit over the time they were supposed to meet—twenty-four minutes, if she’s getting technical here—, but she can’t help but think that Ten is, truly, a favorite of destiny and the world. The speckles of rain that patter against his coat, gray to be exact, almost look like snowflakes, glistening under the harsh lights of his office. His hair is pulled away from his face by a ponytail, some of the strands falling on the back of his neck or his forehead, though his eyes are left a mystery as he keeps a pair of red and retro sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry for being late,” Ten says, a rumble to his voice as he moves further inside the office. “I was looking for my sketchbook and my drawing board for the music video. We need to go over the visuals, the cameras, and everything of that sort before we start the recording in three days.”

Not even a ‘hello’ from him, as unreachable as possible. The icy walls of Ten’s heart somewhat make her feel more intrigued, like the tattoos that scatter on his slim arms when he pulls his coat down and is left on his tank top. He turns on the heater without asking, and she decides to be the polite one in the situation. “Good afternoon, Ten. How are you?”

“Mhm, I don’t know. I asked for an iced coffee after waiting in line for twenty minutes, and the ice has melted off so now it’s dirty coffee water in my cup.” He instructs, putting down his sketchbook and putting up his drawing board on a stencil to be able to showcase it. He pulls his sunglasses down, then, settling them on the table before sighing. “There was no parking spot…because someone decided to park on my designated parking lot—” He cuts himself short then, lifting an eyebrow when he looks at her. “What about you, superstar?”

There is some edge to his tone, and she doesn’t know if it’s a challenge or an annoyance. “I’m good.”

“Good, because I had a whole epiphany when we talked last week—” Ten moves the stencil closer to the table, showing the drawing board with expertise. The style is one to envy, intelligent and complicated in its drawing form, showing different shots, words written to further indicate the details of the music video. “Your song is very pop-y. I liked it, don’t worry. But I think that to make you stand out more in the pop stance, we have to hit the scene with something strong. Maybe, the absurdity of life for someone whose head is locked onto itself. Very science-fiction, mind-based…”

Something about Ten when he has his mind roaming is that, at times, he stops to smile at himself. Pride fills the imagery of what he has imagined, and she’s captured by the way he has twisted the vision of her song into a whole daydream. The kind of nightmare that people love to watch in the form of a music video, but would be a heart-taker if only they went through it. Ten’s idea speaks about losing one self in the middle of our own thoughts, when it’s hard to divide regret from deciding, love from hate—and it’s her. So much that she finds herself enraptured in his thoughts, and for a moment, she thinks she can give her little penny.

“I think we shouldn’t make the music video that dark, though. Like, the idea of a filter on the entire music video would only further emphasize what we’re already showing. It’s a bad idea.” Her tone is serious, leaning over the table to speak properly to Ten, and the man stops pointing at the drawing board to chuckle.

“If we leave everything in a light tone, it’s going to look like a trip dream. We don’t want people to think it’s a video about the aftermath of cocaine, but something serious instead.” Ten replies, eager to open his mouth and explain the end of the video, but she still holds onto her thought.

“It’s a pop song, if we make it too dark, it’ll be too risqué for a debut—”

“But if we make it too light, the idea of the song will be lost and you will be one step closer to being a LMFAO wannabe.”

The stare-off continues for a few seconds, and she has to laugh as she shakes her head. “Listen, I know you’re the expert here, but I don’t think it would look cute.”

“You’re awfully like Angela when you want to, you know that?” Ten spits out, annoyance creeping up on him when he breathes through his nose and speaks again. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve done videos like this before and people love a good storytelling music video.”

Though, her mind is not in that argument anymore. “Why would you say that? You dated Angela, that’s not my fault. You don’t get to diminish people just because they don’t think exactly like you do.”

“A—Alright! Let’s all calm down.” Hao is already up on his feet, ready to launch herself forward if she keeps running her mouth to put one hand over her mouth to stop her. She doesn’t.

Ten gives her one of those smiles that will forever be engraved inside her brain, perhaps for being annoying or for being breathtaking. “That’s exactly what she does. Mrs. Perfect just loved saying everything I did was not good enough, and you’re doing the exact same thing even though you’re just a newbie.”

Ouch. “W—Well, I haven’t seen your name around a lot either.”

“Really? All the music videos I’ve directed in United States and Asia beg to say otherwise.” Ten breathes out, patting his ponytail before clearing his throat. “Listen, I don’t want to fight with you, but the filter is staying. Otherwise, it will look poorly done—”

Four months ago, Angela spoke about how much of a vain asshole he was—and there is nothing she wants more than to show him how much power she could have over him if only she put her mind into it. Make his life difficult, insufferable, just as he’s doing right now for her. “You’re insufferable, aren’t you?” She whispers, well aware that Hao has finally gone to her side of the table and already placed a hand over her mouth.

“I—I’m sorry, she didn’t mean it!” Hao’s apologies are already background music to the tension between Ten and her. She looks at him. He stares right back. Brightness and darkness becoming one, the twinkle on his eye danger beyond all.

“Don’t apologize for her. It’s okay.” Ten indicates, swatting his hand in the air to lay it on the table, leaning his weight forward. Instead, he talks directly to her. “I’m insufferable?”

Pulling Hao’s hand away from her mouth, she replies: “Why? Want me to say it again?”

“No.” Ten adds. “I just want to remind you I’m insufferable now, but I can be even worse.”

Going on with his explanations, she finds herself speechless—but mentally, she’s chatting herself up about how much she hates Ten. How the fuck did Angela date someone like him?

###

“You know,” Hao’s hair is already gray—with some hair-dye, sometimes, he tries to return it to its dark color, but the gray strands appear every once in a while—but it may turn bone white with how much stress is read on his expression. Their usual café does not serve him as a relaxation method, much more when he continues with his dilemma. “I’ve done all I fucking can to get you here, and now that we’re two days away from getting you to record your music video, you decide it’s a good idea to drink lemonade like a maniac and fight Ten in the process.”

The straw in between her lips slips from her hold when she looks up, and it’s true—this is her second glass of lemonade, relishing on the sweetness and sourness of it all, and it may damage her throat, but it’s what she craves right now. “Hao, it will be fine. I’m just not letting that asshole talk to me as if I’m stupid.”

The white and cream walls of the café contrast with the harsh sigh that rips from his throat, running his hands over his face, playing around with his cheeks a bit. “Listen, stop drinking lemonade and listen to yourself for a second,” He says. “He’s one of the most famous music directors at this moment…and he does a damn good job at it. You’re set to succeed and, still, you want to fuck it up.”

“That man is crazy!” She completes her sentence with some hand motions, looking down at her lemonade and pondering if she should drink another one. Does she want to go to the bathroom for the entirety of the night, or, would she rather just control her nervousness? After all, she’ll have a big shoot in two days. “I’m all about self-confidence and positivity, about self-love, too, but I’m sure if Ten could be cloned, he’d choose to date himself.”

Hao tilts his head to the side at that moment. “I mean, if I looked like him, I would definitely date myself, too.” He replies, laughter following his statement before he places one hand over hers, stopping her from taking her glass of lemonade once again. “Hey, hear me out. I’m serious. I don’t want you to fail on your dream only to end up giving a hand-job for five bucks in some bar downtown because no one wants to listen to your voice anymore.”

Harsh, the hostility in his voice comes from a place of deep worry—but there is nothing to worry about. If Ten is as sensible as a flower when it comes to honesty, then that’s his fault. “Why am I the one that ends up giving a hand-job in some bar downtown when he’s the one that treated me like shit?”

“Because you weren’t so polite, either!” Hao replies. “You could’ve easily lifted your hand,” And he does. “And said—” Then, he changes his tone to one that matches hers. Maybe, a bit lower. “Excuse me, Ten, I think we could arrange a lighter tone in the filter because it would look better, in my opinion. May we add some colors? I’m not too experienced in this, but I would like for my opinion to be taken into consideration for this.”

She blinks. Once. Twice. Three times and a few more before she says. “And that is what I would never say. What do I do after? Kiss his feet? Call him my master?”

“That’s being polite. You’re at a workplace.”

“I’m the artist.”

“And you’re a newbie.”

“And?” She drags her voice, eyes widening. “Madonna was once a newbie. Beyoncé was once a newbie. Do you think Beyoncé has no say in what goes in her music videos?”

Patience is Hao’s best virtue, maybe, or he really is mostly like a father figure to her. “Well then, produce something as good as Lemonade or as Single Ladies, and we won’t even need Ten to start with.”

She throws her head back, looking up at the white ceiling with anger flushing from inside of her. Ten, a masterpiece from the outside, a piece of garbage on the inside. A trashcan has less odor than his personality. Whatever. “Why are you so in love with Ten all of the sudden?”

“I’m not in love with Ten. I’m in love with the opportunity that means having him as your director. You’re set to a good start, that’s all I want for you.”

Her heart melts, dripping onto the center of her body, leaving her with a smile on her face. Why ask for richness when she already has the best, she could ever ask for right here, in her life? “Thanks, Hao.” She replies, wrapping her fingers around his hand and tightening her hold. “We’re going to skyrocket in this business, just—just let me sit Ten down in his place when he really needs to. Just some ass-flatting so he knows how to treat me.”

“Watch out—”

She rolls her eyes then. “I’ll be fine. I won’t attack him if he doesn’t attack me. I’m a revengeful person, not a stupid one.”

“Questionable.”

“Hao.”

“So, now that we’ve settled that.” The man stands up then, downing the rest of her lemonade in one go before snapping his fingers together. “I’m getting you some tea for those vocal cords. I need a high note.”

###

Wild hair, dampened almost romantically, makes her skin glimmer with goosebumps as the coldness of the night hits her in the abandoned building that Ten has set his mind recording the first scene into. Everyone knew that it was going to be this cold, sporting coats over coats, sweaters, holding cups of hot chocolate or coffee. Instead, she’s the artist that has to stand looking at Ten from up-close as he explains to Hong and herself what they’re going to do for the first scene.

The sleeves of Ten’s sweater trail down his hands, keeping him covered even past the jacket on his shoulders. With his gelled back hair, he’s an ode to trouble. The kind of people most lovers run away from in fear of being caught up in his trap. With his tongue in between his lips, Ten concentrates on what one of the staffs talks about—the lights and how they’re going to fall on certain angles to make the shadows more appealing and more fitted for her face. She doesn’t understand much, but what she does understand is the beauty of Ten’s features when he brings his cup of coffee up to his lips.

Ten is a poem made person—those that twist in between the good and the bad, and sometimes, when she looks at him, she can’t tell if he’s deeply saddened or in love with the world. Not that she should care, if anything, Ten is bitter about people not painting the world how he wants it. Or, that’s what she wants to believe when he catches her staring at him.

“I want you to act as if your song is stuck in your head and it…you want it to get it out of there. Dance to your will, but I want you to touch your head a lot, maybe play with your hair?”

“I wasn’t given a choreography, Ten.” She replies, silently cursing the cold as she blows raspberries onto her hands. With an eye-roll of his own, Ten’s cup is given to her with one brief movement, the man moving his shoulders a bit as he speaks.

“We’re recording the first verse here, I’ll tell you when to stop, but I had thought something like this. Not a choreography, just common sense. Feeling the music, as one would say.” The wind blows on his hair when Ten lets his voice romantically wrap around the lyrics of her song, motions matching that of a dance as he makes it visually perceivable that he can’t stand whatever is going on inside his head—this insecurity, this limbo that she talks about in her song. With his legs strutting as if he’s on a runway, she hums.

“I’ll see what I can do,” She answers, taking a sip of Ten’s coffee before being delighted by the taste. He makes good choices when it’s not iced coffee. “You can sing, though.”

“…A normal amount. Anyone can sing.” Ten says, ready to go over to the staff in charge of the fans that will blow at her hair and make her seem the slightest bit more stylish. She doesn’t know, she has never been in front of the cameras, and maybe that’s why she goes after Ten.

“No. You actually sing and dance. How—?”

“I used to watch MTV a hell of a lot when I was younger.” Ten breathes out, the wind curling onto his words and leaving an imprint of white onto it. A kiss from him that is visible for the world. “…And I would sing along to all these songs, learn some dance steps. I was in dancing classes for a while, but I got more interested about the behind-the-scenes stuff. Art meets art, you know.”

But he never does look at her, not even when she lowers her face to look right at his eyes. He only inspects her for a second before returning his gaze to the fans, checking them one by one. “It’s even more surprising that you learned the lyrics to my song.”

“You’re not a shitty artist. At least, not as shitty as you get when something doesn’t go your way.”

Fuck this dude.

Honestly.

Or, rather, don’t think about fucking this dude, because she feels her knees buckling up a bit when a smile appears on the corner of his lips.

“Speak for yourself!”

“I am.”

“You are so conceited.”

“That’s the Angela in you speaking. If you go meet someone with the predisposition of feeling like you know them and their flaws, you’ll find them.” Ten shrugs his shoulders then, turning around to look at her without noticing how their chests flush together, pressed to one another and yet, powerful enough to make her give a step back. “I’m confident about what I’m talking about. Never conceited. If I know what I’m doing, I just say it out loud.”

“First and foremost, my opinions about you are not levelled by what Angela has said about you to me.” But they do play around to certain extent. After all, she initially thought Ten was vain without even getting to know him. Fuck him and his nice logic. She puffs her chest out to defend herself, one hand on her waist. “And secondly, I am also confident about what I think about, thank you very much.”

“Good for you.” Ten answers, and the curtness of his reply has her pressing her lips together. This man will make her end up in anger management. “Anyways. Are you a fan of Christina Aguilera?”

“Her voice…” She has to breathe in for a second. “To die for. Why?”

“I need you to have the confidence she had for the ‘Dirty’ music video.”

The gasp that leaves her in unexpectedly loud, making some of the staff look at her as if she’s a fish out of the water. “She is fucking Christina Aguilera, how am I going to challenge Chris—?”

“You’re you. Challenge your inner diva.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Ten, do I look like a diva to you?”

“No, your inner self is a denied track for ‘Nevermind’ by Nirvana—but hey, I need some troubled diva to come through. Your outer self is badass right now, keep that.”

“What do you mean a denied track?” She asks, though, she can’t help but show a smile on her features, and Ten simply has to laugh at her antics.

“As troublesome as Kurt and Courtney together, but somehow, it’s appealing.” Throwing her head back, she lets the sarcasm in his voice get to her.

“I am not troublesome.”

“All musicians are.”

“What about music video directors, huh?” She asks, moving over to the center of the cameras as she throws a look at him. The redness of her lips captures his attention for a second, or maybe, he’s just concentrating on what she is saying. “I’m sure that there’s some emotional, Panic! At The Disco scene era, loving asshole under all that bite you have.”

He hums, sitting down on his director chair before speaking loudly. “I don’t know, figure it out, Christina.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so difficult to talk to, Brendon.”

“I’d rather be Ryan.” Ten corrects, and a smile appears on her face. Huh, so he really did watch MTV back in the day. “He wrote all the songs in the first album. That’s more of a mastermind for the era you’re talking about.”

“So much for telling me I’m the Nirvana denied track made person.”

“…Well, I got the bite and the diva out of you, didn’t I?”

That’s the day she realizes that Ten has more than just a vain side to him, that when he’s seated on his throne in the shape of a director’s chair, he’s much easier to talk to. That his knowledge in music, for the first time in a person she has met, matches hers and she doesn’t quite hate talking to him when it’s about that. It’s annoying, sure, but it’s better than what they started with.

###

“How much do you think I would make if I sold pictures of my feet?”

Shishi’s questions are always something to look forward to, much more when her face is stained in red and a glass of wine is on one hand, checking her phone while talking to Angela and her. Her YouTube video is uninteresting in this girl’s night-out turned sleepover, mostly because all three of them are too tipsy to go anywhere else, and Angela’s place is always the tidiest of the bunch.

“Depends.” She says, lifting her own glass of wine and taking a sip of it. “I don’t think I’ve openly talked to someone about foot fetishes, but…like, is it sexier if the toes are stubbier or like, is it hotter if they are slim toes? Do they have to be hairy toes?”

Angela puts her glass of wine down with a continued, harsh slap against her thighs. “You say toe one more time and I’m going to put my actual toe down your throat for being so disgusting.”

Shishi raises her hand slowly, as if she’s in the middle of class and wants to ask a question, so Angela can look her way. “If you do put your toe down her throat, can I record it and sell it on the internet so I can buy a Levi Ackerman body pillow?”

The answer comes from both Angela and herself at the same time: “No, Shishi!”

With mostly silence overtaking the room as Shishi roams the deepest of information about foot fetishes and the cost of feet pictures online, and Angela says she’s going to prepare some food to take some of the tipsiness away, she opts to enter Instagram. Not that she does that much often—and she can already hear Hao scolding her for it inside her head, for she should have a social media following, but the standards of normality that exist in such social media site really do get to her. There’s only so much she can stand before it actually starts playing with her head.

She brings her thumb up to her mouth to nibble on it softly, rushing through her scrolling to get to the latest picture and clicking her tongue when only seeing one picture of her interest. Though, to be unexpectedly convenient, Instagram suggests some people to follow for her, and much to her lack of knowledge, the appearance of Ten’s name and a small, circular picture of him is enough of an invitation for her to tap on his profile.

The last time she saw Ten was three weeks ago, and in less than a week, her music video would be released for the world to see. With some promotion, of course, not that she has quite paid attention to that without feeling like bawling. But, something about his profile makes her feel more connected to him. Only because he’s as immaculate on his social media as he is with his music videos, and he does look damn fine in every picture that she taps onto.

Now, one of the finest things that could be created in this life is the combination of fries and ketchup…and Ten challenges that. Head on. Face first. He puts all foods to shame, even the wine on her hand, with how fine he seems to be on every picture, and maybe it’s the liquid courage trailing after her actions that has her clicking the follow button and looking through his stories.

Because, let’s be honest—he’s annoying. He was annoying as all hell. But there is a double standard to that…he’s awfully uncapable of making himself be liked personality-wise when he’s working, but if he shuts his lips for one single second, he’s a dream come true.

He is asking for questions on his story, and her fingers move fast simply to jot down an innocent inquiry: “Favorite MV to direct?”

The answer comes less than fifteen minutes later, when Shishi’s head is laying on her lap and the smell of pasta has her stomach growling and asking for garlic bread as soon as possible. Her mouth watering, imagining the perfect bread siding past her lips for her to take a bite—

The image is black, but the answer is enough of a hit on the face for her to sit up straighter. “Yours.” He replied, with a tongue-out emoji after.

This man is the sole reason she doesn’t know the difference between sexual tension and absolute hatred.

To: @tenlee_1001

You’re joking.

And the three dots that appear soon after have her biting down on her lip.

From: @tenlee_1001

Maybe, stalker.

To: @tenlee_1001

I’m not stalking you.

From: @tenlee_1001

Said, the liar.

To: @tenlee_1001

You’re lucky I’m too drunk to reply to that.

How’s it been?

From: @tenlee_1001

Good.

How have you been?

To: @tenlee_1001

Hungry.

Angela’s making pasta right now and I can’t wait.

From: @tenlee_1001

Are you and Angela always tied to the hip?

To: @tenlee_1001

Not really.

Does that bother you?

From: @tenlee_1001

She’s nice.

Sometimes, two nice people just can’t be together.

To: @tenlee_1001

Are you meant to be the other half of that statement?

From: @tenlee_1001

Yeah, haha.

I’m nicer than you think.

To: @tenlee_1001

Prove it.

From: @tenlee_1001

I don’t have to prove anything to anyone.

To: @tenlee_1001

Said, the nicest guy on earth.

From: @tenlee_1001

Ah, fuck you.

All the people I’ve dated said I’m the nicest guy they’ve met.

Maybe, it’s the garlic in the air, the wine on her hand, or Shishi’s heavy head on her lap that dizzies her when she says:

To: @tenlee_1001

Then, take me out on a date.

Or, are you chicken?

It’s been a while since she has talked to a man like this, and, for fuck’s sake, she’s supposed to be hating this man. Throwing her phone on the cushion beside her, she tries to stifle her screech. Okay, sure, it will be okay, things could be worse—

And then, her phone vibrates and it takes her a second for her to check it.

From: @tenlee_1001

Okay. Let me just plan something.

I’ll take you out next Friday.

It’s a date, Aguilera.

To: @tenlee_1001

…Okay, Ryan.

And not exactly Gosling.

From: @tenlee_1001

Is that supposed to hurt me?

To: @tenlee_1001

No.

Because not all guys can be Ryan Gosling.

Maybe, she’s too tipsy to be having this conversation, but when she sees Ten has just followed her on Instagram, she knows it’s game over for her.

###

Eloquently dangerous is the worst kind of trouble a lover looks for. In the shape of Ten seated on the driver’s seat, legs parted and both of his hands resting on the lower part of the steering wheel. When he picked her up, the stiff conversation tightened around their necks, leaving them speechless—but music unites them again. After all, it’s the reason why they met and why they’re going out on this date to start with.

According to Ten, whose long hair is enough of a call-out for her to lean herself to the side to be able to talk to him from a closer position and still, wish she could rake her fingers through it, there is a restaurant forty minutes away from her place that is to die for. Thai, he said, and she’s not about to contradict him on that. On the way there, Ten’s conversation lingers within her with interest, enough for her to nod her head along to the beat of ‘Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)’ by Nancy Sinatra.

“This song makes me feel like I’m in a post-apocalyptic world and I’m looking for revenge.” She says, eyes staring at his profile. What a blessing it would be to call the smile on his face hers, but it isn’t. His short-sleeved button down moves a bit over his collarbone, just when he throws a glance over his shoulder.

“That’s the mentality of a director.” Ten indicates, though he licks his lips and waits for the last few seconds of the song to pass by. “I don’t listen to it that much, even when it’s in my playlist, but it mostly reminds me of this scenery…an ex going to a wedding and killing the bride just because of jealousy. The secret to not letting go and how twisted it can be.” He shrugs soon after. “That’s the meaning of the song, in my opinion.”

“Damn.” She replies, a hiss following her statement as she sits down straighter. “Are you that type of ex?”

“Of course not.” His voice is rapid to defend himself, before clearing his throat. “But you should know more about me as an ex, considering you’re good friends with Angela.”

She remembers Angela being full of Ten’s shit, the way she deleted all their pictures in the blink of an eye before locking herself in her job. She doesn’t exactly recall anything else other than knowing Ten is— “She told me you were vain.”

“…Fuck.” He chuckles then, though a bit dark in the process. “I am not vain, we were just two stubborn people who got into a relationship without really knowing each other.”

The last part hits home, and she has to bite her bottom lip when she starts to hear the tune to Alicia Keys’ ‘Show Me Love’, perhaps featured by Miguel, but her mind can’t come up with the truest answer at this moment. “I understand that. Relationships are really fucking difficult. You ignore all the red flags just to get with someone.”

“That sounds awfully like someone remembering their ex.” Ten says, a hum to his tone in the form of a song.

“I don’t remember him much. Too overconfident for how bad of a lover he was.” She tells him, and a smile spreads across his face when he passes a green light.

“Is that a connotation for what I’m thinking about?”

“You know, I’m just saying, at least you had something serious with Angela.” For a second, her mind lingers in the nights in hotel rooms, always being picked up by a man simply to end anywhere but a place to have a date in. Tangled in between his sheets, getting lost in his physique, in the way his lips wrapped around her and how much he seemed to desire her. Desire is not the same as love. “You didn’t have to deal with a guy who seemed to like everyone and you. I was a little toy for a guy and that’s the thing I regret the most.”

“Shit.” Ten curses, raising both eyebrows before shaking his head. “What made you fall for an asshole like that?”

“He was a web designer. I thought that a nerdy guy mixed with a gym-rat body is what I wanted.” She answers, bringing laughter up Ten’s chest, his eyes wrapping up in their magic, enigmatic stance. “He was afraid of commitment, I think he had daddy issues, too. I met him because he went to one of my shows in a bar downtown.”

“And you became friends with benefits?”

“Are we really friends if I know nothing about him other than his body?”

“Damn.”

The lyrics embrace her ears and enter her brain when, indeed, Miguel’s voice fills the air and much to her surprise, she does know this song—

Without realizing, she tries to remember the lyrics, mumbling some of the words and jumbling the others, and Ten hates this enough to shake his head, lifting one hand in the air to instruct the tempo to her. “It’s ‘you gon’ show me love like, like you tried it—’, two likes, honey.”

At the mention of such a nickname, she has to push his shoulder sightly. “Honey?”

“Why? Did your little asshole ex call you that?”

“He was not my ex.”

“He’s an ex if he got to be with you.”

“Why? Jealous?” Quirking an eyebrow, she is surprised when she sees Ten shrugging.

“I shouldn’t be jealous when I know that, if I really put my mind into it, I can do a much better job than him at winning you over.”

She has to hiss at this moment. “I don’t buy it; I feel like you still hate me.”

The car starts going slower by the time Ten gives her a reply. “If I really hated you, would I have taken you out on a date?”

“Maybe, you’re just planning to take me out to this horrid place and—”

“Oh, no, no, no, no.”

The car comes to an abrupt halt at that moment, and Ten’s head lulls against the steering wheel at the same time that a groan creeps up his vocal cords. “What happened?” The car is still on, however, so it must not be the engine fucking their date up.

“Didn’t you feel that?” She shakes her head then. “You’re dead inside. I think one of the wheels has, I don’t know, like a nail piercing through it.”

When Ten gets out of the car, right after turning off the car, she’s left in complete darkness—and she hates it. Why is it that when everything is going well for them, a wheel decides to just fucking deflate and almost kill them? At least, they’re in a somewhat safe street. “Ten, hold up—” She says, taking her phone out of her pocket to shine a light onto the wheel he is inspecting, trying not to let her eyes trail down to his toned legs. “We can call someone and they’ll get here in no time, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“It’s a Friday night. It’s even more difficult to get someone to help us at this time.” Ten instructs, and she decides to lighten things up in the worst way possible.

“It seems like you’re not that good of a driver, considering you know what to do in this situation—”

Ten sends a glare over his shoulder, some strands of his hair passing over his face, and she has to give him a cramped smile. “I am a good driver.”

“It was a joke!”

He manages to give her a short laugh before bringing his own phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling a friend that can come help us out.” And he does, his back becoming the main image he sees, his slim body but nicely squared shoulders making her scrunch up her nose and close her eyes tightly. There’s always something going on between them, ain’t it?

Sitting down on the sidewalk, she lets the coldness seep through her jeans, staring at the city lights that are even more beautiful than the harsh one from her phone. She turns it off, but uses her phone to distract herself in a different way. Music must be the only way she can relax herself, a breath in and a breath out as she looks through her playlist.

But nothing sits right with her, only listening to a few seconds before she switches the song to something else. However, a presence makes itself known by her side, no longer talking to his friend but, instead, sending an eye over to her phone and letting his finger roam over the screen.

“I like this one.” And she has to cackle at the choice of songs. Definitely something of the like that is expected from him, ‘34+35’ by Ariana Grande fills the air in between them, and much to her surprise, Ten knows how to sing along to some of the lyrics.

“Are you trying to hint at something?” She jokes around, dipping her feet in the water just because she can, and the warmth of him by her side isn’t quite as unpleasant in this winter blues.

If she could see his cheeks, she would be able to tell that they are tinted deep red, and that the small, almost inaudible laugh that leaves him is one of the most beautiful sounds she has ever been welcomed to. “I’m not saying anything. You’re the one being dirty-minded.”

“Oh, come on, the song is definitely about—”

“She says: ‘love me ‘til the daylight’.”

“What the fuck? No!” She corrects, giggling a bit when Ten drapes his coat on top of both their bodies, mingling closer until his perfume becomes a drug she can’t get enough of. “She says: ‘fuck me ‘til the daylight’.”

“Too much to say on a first date, you know?” Ten conquers, and she has to laugh directly at his face.

“We’re not getting it on tonight, Ten.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t say we were going to! You brought it up.”

“Whatever.” She replies, resting her head on his shoulder before sighing deeply. “When is your friend coming?”

“In an hour, if he’s lucky.” Ten instructs, and she doesn’t want to look disappointed, but Ten had painted the restaurant they were going to go to as the best thing in this world—

“I’m hungry.” Her lips puff out in a bit of a pout as he speaks, and Ten takes this as a cue to take the car keys, lock the device before standing up, leaving his coat over her shoulders.

His hand extends, an anchor for her to take, messing up with her temper when he waves his fingers and invites her in a way that makes her heart beat like a fool’s. It’s been too damn long since she’s felt like this. “There’s a convenience store nearby…and, I don’t know, maybe we could buy some burgers and fries in the way there? Eat somewhere less cold, too.”

When their fingers interlock, she thinks she gets a grasp of exactly why Angela had rushed into a relationship with him. He’s magic in its truest form. “Fries sound amazing right now.”

They start walking, though the conversation never dies down. “Do you like do dip them in ice cream, ketchup or mayonnaise?”

“People dip it in mayonnaise?”

“That’s less chaotic than the ones that dip it in mustard.”

“…The end of the world is near.”

His laughter is nicely welcomed, a blanket for her to keep herself warm in this cold night. Though, his hands and his coat do as much, as well.

###

With Angela’s Yorkshire Terrier held up on her arms, the dog licking up her face for the umpteenth time and probably doing his best to take off the rest of her makeup, not managing to steal a kiss from her when she moves her face around in the way to the vet, she continues talking to her friend with intention. Five days after her last date with Ten, and the first one at that, and she can’t seem to stop running her mouth about it.

“Really, Ange. I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to break his heart when he was an absolute sweetheart—” She says, the harsh sunshine falling on top of her face, and this dog is adorable, much more now that he doesn’t know that he’s going to get his mandatory shots, but if he continues licking her face, she may lose the skin of her cheek. “Did you know that he loves Alicia Keys? And that he loves drawing? He’s so stylish, too, and he’s so open about talking about himself.”

“Because he loves himself.” Angela interrupts, placing the keys of her car inside her purse before sending a smile her way. Before she could say anything, Angela speaks up. “But I’m happy for you, babe. We both know that you deserve someone who treats you right. Even if it’s my ex.”

At the mention of such a title, she has to stop her rambling. “You’re okay with it, right?”

“Of course.” And the truthfulness of her tone has her releasing a sigh from the depths of her worry. “I’m not insecure, honey. Not even jealous. Ten is nothing for me now. I don’t like him, but I don’t like him for me. As long as he treats you right, we’re okay.”

Though, she does feel a bit of curiousness about the relationship that ensued in between the two, but maybe that’s too early to talk about when she has only been talking to him through the phone, planning dates, meeting up in the briefest of moments when they both have time. After all, her song is doing good and now, she’s recording an album—

Her phone rings at that moment, eyes opening widely when she hears the specific ringtone she has for Hao. “Angela, take your dog. That’s Hao calling.” Though, the woman doesn’t relent when she passes the sweet dog over to her. Her phone fits her hand perfectly when she picks up the call, ear welcoming the sound of Hao’s familiar voice. “Hao, Hao, what’s up?”

“Nothing much…” His voice trails, but it’s unusual for him to call just because. Just when she continues walking in the parking lot, Hao decides to say something. “But you’re going to be opening show for the tour of one of the biggest artists in this country, that’s all that’s happening right now. Not much.”

If she could scream right now, she would.

Her hand spreads on top of her face, jelly on toast, made to be there. Shivers going up her neck, body paralyzed in her spot, her free arm going up to raise into the air—feel the wind, the sun, let it ravish her as her dreams give a glimpse of becoming true. The fever of stardom and success rips a squeal out of her, twirling on her own spot as words of thankfulness become one with the air around her. For once, she feels like an artist—like her voice can be heard, heart healed by the heel of the world and how it twists around to her favor.

“I’m going on tour!” She finally screams, happiness meeting her lungs, breathing in a way that doesn’t feel cramped. The world is good for once, and Angela’s smile matches her own.

###

The worst part of it all is saying goodbye to something that didn’t happen.

Her friends know about fashion more than she does, a red jacket draped over an almost all-black outfit, while they all wear clothing that seems to be fitted for the party in her honor. Well, not in her honor at all—but for the main artist of the world tour that will start in no less than a week from now, such short notice, and she was invited in the process. The elongated hallways of the hotel the party will take place in, extra expensive at that, barely do much to conceal the laughter that bubbles from her friend-group or the sound of their singing to their latest single, well over a million views in YouTube as of now, and directed by then.

She hasn’t told him. It’s that one thing that she doesn’t know if she should talk about or not. Whenever they eat together, she feels like telling him…but she stops herself for some reason. It’s the brink of not knowing if he cares or if it would hurt him, but the world knows what it is doing. With her boots hitting the tiles with expertise, she doesn’t expect to hear her name being called, with such a soft and nice tone that she already knows whose it is.

When she looks over her shoulder, her friends stopping their singing and laughing to stare at the scene displayed in front of them, Ten rests his back against one of the bathroom doors near the entrance to the main salon for the party. With a bun laying on top of his head, the strands of his black hair falling behind his neck, she’s surprised to see him so put together—white button down, trousers, and a poised look on his face when he says:

“Congratulations. Not that you told me but…I’m so happy you’re going on tour.” Her heart races at that moment, not caring that Angela is there, that her friends are glancing at Ten and speaking between themselves as she moves with certainty, taking her place in front of him and grasping his hands in both of hers, eyes shifting to every portion of his face. The face of a man she wants to have, but can’t.

“T—Ten, uh, I didn’t tell you because I thought you wouldn’t care. It’s nothing against you, really, but since we don’t have anything serious yet—”

“I’m not mad.” He says, a small smile on his face. “Why would I be mad when this is all you have ever asked for?”

A halo exists over him, and she doesn’t know why she hated him on the first place at this moment. Perfection in the form of a man that she can’t get to know so well right now, simply because her career is launching and so is his. “Well, you’re more used to travelling than I am. After all, you’re always all around for shootings and director stuff that I don’t know about—”

“It’s damn fun. Seeing the world that way…you’ll love it.” Ten whispers, sending one look over to her group of friends before lowering his voice. “Can you just tell them to leave?”

“Yeah.” She says, looking at her friends before speaking up. “Get it going, there’s a party waiting for you!”

In between whispers of their own and some looks at them, she doesn’t realize that Ten’s hands have taken place on her waist, bringing her closer to inspect her features. Looking at her as if she’s the only woman in the world, when she had thought he had only seen himself all along— “I wish you would’ve told me, though. I was invited by Hao and got the news thanks to him.”

Hao is either really blessed or the unluckiest man alive. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. After all, I—” She mumbles, swallowing thickly after. “I wanted to try things out for you. With you. Ah, you know—”

“There’s always ‘later’. Maybe not now, but maybe, we’re just meant to connect in some other time of our lives.” His words make her cling closer to him, fists tangling onto his shirt, taking more of him— “And until then, live your dream and I’ll live mine. The gratitude of being the best version of ourselves is more important right now.”

When she leans her head forward, his lips come in contact with the bridge of her nose, breathing softly, a silent confession, a plea to let go of the world for one night and be there with each other. One of their latest nights together, of the impossibility of minutes as they glare at them from the clock and ask them to pull away.

“I wish we could’ve gotten a real chance.” She whispers, laying her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist as his thumbs draw on her back.

“We’ll get to try later.”

Later sounds like forever when he is right there, within her reach, and yet so far away. The promise of a goodbye is shadowed by the trials of continuing with their connection. That, maybe, losing time with him was her worst mistake, the reason why it shatters her heart—

But later is also a moment, a moment that will welcome her after tour.

#ten scenarios #ten #wayv scenarios #wayv #nct scenarios #nct #writing #wayv angst #wayv fluff #wayv au #ten angst #ten fluff #ten au #how to lose someone in seven steps?

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

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four times your best friend ruined a date + one time he didn’t | mat barzal

a/n: once again, not the fic i set out to write this weekend, but here we have arrived! enjoy💜

the first

Look, no one has ever told you that you have a problem making your voice heard. You’re pretty chatty. Your voice carried. In fact, usually, people were asking you to stop talking, to lower your voice.

Not on this date. Max from Tinder had let you say two things in the amount of time since you sat down at the table outside one of your favorite Mexican restaurants in Brooklyn: hello and your food order.

Your meal is good, as always, and the margs can’t come fast enough to drown out Max across from you. Each time you’ve tried to respond to something he’s said, he just talks louder. You’ve given up on this one. You’ll get a good meal out of this and never talk to this asshole again.

But then, you spot a familiar head of hair walking toward you on the sidewalk and you’re shouting out before you can help yourself. Like you can’t keep words in any longer and if Max from Tinder isn’t going to let you use them, you’ll just throw them out anywhere you can. “Mat!”

You almost laugh at your best friend, a 6’0 giant who often looked even larger, as he does a double take, but he is able to track down the sound. He grins when he realizes it’s you and he’s quickly by your side, wrapping his arm around you as you lean your head against his hip, the body part closest to him, and beam up at him. “What’s up?”

You nod over at Max from Tinder, whose face has soured, as he looks at Mat. “Just out.”

“We’re actually kinda in a thing right now.” Max from Tinder says to him, rather rudely, if you had to say. “So if you don’t mind,” He trails off, very pointedly, looking over at the sidewalk.

Your jaw actually drops at that, but Mat just grins and jumps the railing between the restaurant and the street. “I don’t mind at all, actually! I haven’t seen YN all week.” He yanks the empty chair over from the table next door and sits. “What’s new, babe?”

You can’t help but laugh at the look on Max from Tinder’s face as you answer Mat. “Nothing much, boo.”

“Seriously?” Max from Tinder asks, furiously, looking absolutely livid as he attempts to stare Mat down, who for his part, looks as calm as can be as he asks you how work’s been, what’s new with your family, what dumb shit your brother has got up to in his frat this week- all the usual things he’d ask you when the two of you were trying to catch up.

The final straw comes when Mat orders a marg of his own. Max from Tinder just stands up from the table and walks out the door. “What a douche.” Mat says, mildly, dipping a chip in one of the salsas on the table.

“Look who’s talking!” You laugh.

“Sorry, what was that?” Mat feigns not being able to hear you. “A thank you for not making you sit here with him for any longer?”

You laugh again, pushing his favorite salsa closer to him. “Thank you.”

He beams back at you. “Anytime.”

the second

Ashley lets out a low whistle as you step out of her closet, fuck me heels carefully chosen from her collection to match the little black dress pulled from your own wardrobe. “Damn.” She whistles again and you flashback for a moment to freshman year, when she became your favorite roommate for doing the same thing the first time you went out together. “Where’s Kevin from Finance taking you?” You adjust the straps of the dress in her mirror as you drop the name of the expensive restaurant that your co-worker was taking you to for your third date. “Okay, yeah.” She laughs. “You’re putting out tonight.”

“Ashley!” You laugh, instead of dismissing her entirely.

“I’ll expect a full run-down tomorrow.” She sing-songs at you, as you grab your clutch and walk out the door to meet Kevin from Finance in the lobby downstairs.

The two dates you’ve had with your coworker have been so far enjoyable- one to a beer garden on what has seemed to be the last warm fall day and the second to one of those axe throwing places with some friends- and despite the heightened atmosphere of this one, it starts off just as enjoyable with some easy conversation. Kevin from Finance orders a bottle of wine for you to split, and you commend his choice while you scan the menu for something to order.

For most of the night, you go back and forth, just crossing over what might be an acceptable line for flirting at the dinner table, but you both know where this is headed later. It was pretty clear to you in the way Kevin from Finance looked you up and down when he picked you up, in the way he caught you sneaking the same once over in return, how his eyes follow your tongue as it tries to catch a drip of wine.”

They darken as your cheeks flush and you try to distract yourself from thinking about where the evening is headed by taking another sip of wine, only to be interrupted by a surprise arrival. “YN?”

“Hey!” You greet Mat warmly, smiling up at him. “How are you?” He beams back at you, exchanging pleasantries. “What are you even doing here?” You tease. “Pretty fancy for an off day.”

“We’ve got a team thing.” He waves in the direction of the private room in back, which you had noticed was closed off for a private event, but hadn’t bothered to look into more. Maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted staring at Kevin from Finance’s biceps straining in his dress shirt, you would have noticed a couple of the Islanders starting to file in. “And you must be the guy she’s been talking about.” He sticks his hand out to Kevin from Finance. “What’s up man, I’m Mat.”

But while you’d mentioned that there was maybe a new guy to Mat, you’d never mentioned that you knew Mat to Kevin from Finance, and that becomes clear the second you look over to him. His jaw is dropped, his eyes are huge, he makes no move to shake Mat’s hand; it’s like he’s frozen. “I’m a huge fan.” Kevin from Finance manages, finally, after what feels like forever.

Mat smiles, much more trained in this kind of situation than you are, because you’re looking your date like he’s got three heads. “Always good to hear, man! Make sure you take good care of our girl, here, eh?” He pats you on the shoulder and Kevin from Finance nods, more seriously than you’ve ever seen him do anything. “I have to head in. Stop on over for a drink on your way out if you want, okay?” Again, a nod from Kevin from Finance, even as you just hmm noncommittally.

And then, things get weird. For as nice and chatty as he was before Mat stopped by, now it’s like pulling teeth when trying to get Kevin from Finance to say something. He won’t meet your eyes, instead looking between the plate that sits in front of you and the room Mat disappeared into. “Can I help you with something?” You ask, finally.

“I don’t think I can do this.” He says, shaking his head.

“What?” You snap, annoyed.

“I can’t compete with that-him!”

“I’ll make it easy for you; there’s no competition.” You say flatly.

Kevin from Finance shakes his head again. “I-you-no. There’s competition!” He stands, dropping his napkin onto the table as your jaw drops. “Sorry.”

After being fucking ghosted in the middle of your date and apologizing profusely to the wait staff for having to immediately bag up both meals (that you had to pick up the check for, these better be the best fucking meals of your life), you make your way over to the Islanders’s private room and drape yourself over Mat’s back, as best you can. “You owe me a lot of drinks, sir.”

He’s surrounded by a few teammates and wives, who all immediately burst into laughter at his protests. “How do you figure that?”

“Because my date left me here because of you!”

Mat winces. “I was perfectly pleasant!” He pauses. “Today. To that guy!”

“Sorry,” Grace bites her lip, like she’s holding back a laugh. “There have been others, that you haven’t been?”

“Well yeah, but that guy deserved it!” It’s too late; they’re all laughing again.

“This time it was your general existence.” You tell him, moving off his back, but staying close when his arm immediately reaches to wrap around your waist.

“This seems unreasonable.” Mat pouts. “That I owe you drinks just because you decided to date someone too insecure.”

“Dude, we’re not paying for anything here.” Tito reminds him. “Just give the girl her drinks.”

“I always knew I liked you best.” You smile at Tito, who returns your grin.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see if you’re saying that later when I’m the one making sure you don’t fall all over the place in those shoes.” Mat grumbles, flagging down a waiter to take your drink order.

You grin up at him. “If you keep getting me drinks and make sure I get home in these shoes, you can have your Number 1 spot back.”

Mat sighs longsufferingly, like it’s going to be such a hardship for him, even though you both know that you’re the clingiest drunk who does absolutely anything that anyone tells you to and as soon as he drops you off in bed, you’ll be out like a light. “Deal.”

It’s not quite what happens-your clinginess extends to yanking him into bed and not letting him leave- but as soon as he settles next to you and you can curl up into his side, then you’re willing to listen when he whispers, “go to sleep,” as his hand moves to play with the ends of your hair.

the third

Can’t talk now. Have a date!!! You send Mat, after ignoring his FaceTime request, and then walk into the cute little cafe that Jake from College had suggested you meet at.

“Hey!” He grins at you, as you grab a seat at the table. “Did you find the place okay?”

You bust out laughing. New to the city, Jake from College had mentioned that he lived around the corner, and was still figuring his way around. “I’ve been here a few times before actually. I’ve been here long enough to navigate my way around pretty well.” You tease.

He laughs. “Fair enough.”

After placing your orders, you catch each other up on where you’ve been and where you’re at now. You chat about some of your mutual friends, gossip about whether or not you think Jack and Mallory will actually make it down the aisle, and talk a little about your families.

“Yeah, so my brother’s frat has been-”

“Oh no.” Suddenly, Mat’s dropping into the empty chair beside you, throwing an arm around the back of yours, and there’s Tito slipping in across from him, not looking nearly as thrilled to be there. “What’s that kid up to now?”

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, ignoring his question completely.

“We were just grabbing a post-practice meal.” He says and Tito nods his agreement, but when you look across the table at him, studying his face carefully, he won’t meet your eyes.

“Okay.” You tell him, kind of annoyed that he interrupted what had been an otherwise good date. “So you’re going to grab your meals and go?”

“Well now that I know you have this big huge table…” Mat hints, and you’re all ready to tell him absolutely not, when Jake from College jumps in.

“Yeah, of course!” He says, and Mat grins. “I’d love to meet some more of YN’s friends.”

“Would you?” You mutter under your breath, dryly enough that Mat flicks your shoulder.

You don’t know what’s worse- that Mat, Tito, and Jake from College get along like a house on fire, or that after Mat and Tito show up, Jake from College barely says another word to you. Not because he’s so starstruck by their existence.

Because they’re genuinely becoming friends. By the time all four of you finish with your meals, it’s like Jake from College has forgotten you’re even at the table, caught up in discussing tennis with Tito and making plans with both of them to play basketball next weekend with a couple guys they know.

When you part ways, he barely says goodbye to you, which is a slap in the face after the bro hugs Mat and Tito both get. “Don’t be mad.” Mat says immediately, when you round on him.

“Seriously?” You glare at him.

“It was a coincidence.” He says, maybe too pushy to be entirely true, and you remember the way Tito wouldn’t meet your gaze earlier, narrowing your eyes at him further.

“Right.”

“It was!” Mat insists and you really have no way of proving it wasn’t so you just huff back at him and start walking, knowing that they’ll be catching up behind you.

the twelfth

“What happened to I’m never dating another New Yorker again?” Ashley asks, watching you get ready to go out with yet another Tinder date.

You give her a look through the mirror. “Ashley, this one might be my dream man.”

“That’s what you’ve said about them all.” She advises. “And none of them have been,”

“I’ll just die alone then.” You tell her dramatically.

She snickers. “I don’t think that’s the case. I think there’s definitely a Non-New Yorker that is very willing to date you.”

You give her a look. “Oh yeah? Send him my way?”

“Hmm.” She says. “Don’t think I’ll need to. He manages to find his own way.”

“If you’re talking about who I think you’re talking about,” You say, fluffing your hair one last time. “Then I don’t think he’s willing to date me at all.” Not willing to watch you date other people, sure, that trend has become quite clear as Mat has crashed date after date in increasingly creative ways. But never once has he made a move toward you, or tried to ramp up his flirting game to anywhere close to where you’ve seen him bring it to girls he’s interested in bringing home.

For Christ’s sake, you’ve pulled the man into bed on multiple occasions- what more does he want from you to know that you’d be interested, if he was?

Ashley returns your look, through the mirrors. “I’m certain I am talking about who you think I am, and maybe if you would do more than just pull him into bed while drunk, he might do something about it.”

You can agree to disagree on this one. There’s been that, there’s been everytime you pout at him for ruining your dates, there’s been every function or event you’ve agreed to go with him to stand by his side for the entire evening in uncomfortable shoes and an uncomfortable dress, every smile you send his way. But you’ll digress the point for now. “Well maybe tonight I’ll be pulling Graham the Perfect Man into my bed while drunk.” You stick your tongue out at her.

She grins, stepping back from your doorway so you can head out. “Use a condom!”

Upon meeting Graham the Perfect Man in one of your favorite bars (with the best burgers), you quickly realize you might actually have nailed this one. His sense of humor is impeccable and he’s incredibly charming...or at least most of the time. He’s a bit of a one-upper, but you try to be positive about it and tell yourself that he’s just trying to impress you- who isn’t on a first date?

It becomes a bit frustrating because he balances it with his humor so well. Like when you start talking about summers spent at your family’s Jersey shore house, Graham the Perfect Man casually mentions his parent’s summer home in South France, but then instantly cracks a joke about red eye flights that has you actually crying you’re laughing so hard.

“Jesus, I could hear you laughing from all the way outside.” Mat drops an arm around your shoulders and squeezes in greeting.

“Come off it, you could not.” You protest, even as he grins.

“Guess you’ll never know for real.” He teases.

“Wow, are you rude!” You huff.

“Me? You’ve been sitting here, haven’t even introduced us.” You roll your eyes, but make the introductions between Mat and Graham the Perfect Man, which actually doesn’t go terrible until someone stops and asks to take a picture with Mat, which you snap for them politely, but does bring out Graham the Perfect Man’s one-upper.

“Hockey?” He asks, and continues before Mat even has a chance to finish nodding. “Can’t say I’ve got much taste for the sport. I was a baseball player. Starting shortstop for my college.”

“But you’re not anymore.” Mat says, kinda like a dick.

“Mat!” You hiss and he just shrugs, unapologetic.

“Just the history, the nuance.” Graham the Perfect Man continues like Mat hadn’t even said anything, and even you have to fight back a laugh on that one.

Mat just shrugs again. “Yeah, alright. Cool, bro.”

“Cool, bro.” Graham the Perfect Man repeats flatly, and you know what’s going to happen before he even stands up. “Yeah, this has been fun, but…maybe...another time.” And he’s out the door, just like your dreams of this maybe happening again, so you turn to your best friend, who’s just got the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

“Mathew.” You frown at him.

“What? Come on, that guy was a tool!”

That...is so not the point. “Stop ruining all my dates!”

Mat scoffs. “All these dates with douchy guys that you don’t even like that much?”

“Yes!” You cry, absolutely done with this game. “Because unless you’re going to do something about it yourself, that’s who I’m still going to be dating.”

“What if I want to do something about it?” Mat says, looking down and avoiding your eyes.

You laugh, hollowly. “Sure, Mat. I’ll believe it when I see it.” And then you stand up from the table and walk out without him. If he’s going to ruin your dates, he can at least grab the fucking bill. He can fucking afford it.

+ one

When you don’t hear from Mat for the entire next week, you think that’s it. He talked himself up some big game, realized it’s not what he wants, and now he was trying to back out of it without making things super uncomfortable. You figured you’d hear from him in a couple weeks, when he’d send you a meme he found, and maybe you’d just never mention that thing you said about him dating you again.

Nope.

Exactly a week after you call him out, he shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers. “Uhh hi?” You look down at your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt.

“Hi.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, as he hands the flowers to you.

“Did um-did we have plans tonight?” If he hadn’t tucked the flowers close to you, you’re pretty sure you would have dropped them, still trying to make sense of this.

Mat grins. “We do now.”

“Um.” You repeat. “Can I...change first?”

He nods. “Yep.”

“Okay.” You take a breath, starting to get your jumbled mass of thoughts together. “Where are we going?

Mat grins again. “You’ll see.”

You eye him skeptically, but he’s not budging on that, so after you find something to put your flowers in (today’s winner is...a wine bottle), you run into your room and start searching through your closet. Mat won’t give you any hints about where you’re going, fine, you’ll just have to take your hints from him.

Moving quickly so as not to keep him waiting too long, you settle on a pair of jeans, booties, and your favorite sweater. A quick brush through your hair and a couple swipes of makeup and you deem it good enough. It’s certainly as good as it’s going to get since someone didn’t give you time to shower.

Mat smiles though, as soon as you walk back in, throwing things into the clutch you plan on carrying with you that night, but he doesn’t say anything or do anything or even move at first. “Are you ready yet?” You tease, standing at the door.

His cheeks flush a little, caught staring, but he jogs over toward you, while nodding. “Yeah, let’s go.” As soon as you lock the door, he’s slipping his hand into yours, merely smiling when you look up at him questioningly.

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.” Mat grins, tugging your hand to pull you to the right.

“Come on, really?” But he stands firm, instead asking you something about your day, which lasts all the way until he pulls you into your favorite restaurant, laughing when you realize it’s the end point.

Dinner is amazing and the speakeasy he leads you to afterwards for drinks is as well. You spend half the time grinning at the place around you, wondering how he managed to find someplace so cool and then backtracking that thought, because, yeah, of course, he did.

Mat’s smiling at you when you look back at him, eyes never leaving you, it seems, as he swirls his drink around in his glass. “You look happy.”

“I am happy.” You tell him honestly, which only widens his smile.

“So you’d be happy to do this again?”

“Do what again?” You ask, feigning innocence, solely to mess with him. “I don’t actually recall you ever asking me to do this in the first place.”

He throws his head back in a laugh, that big one he’s got that you love. “Can I take you out sometime?”

You nod, smiling as he leans across the table toward you. “I suppose it’s too late to say no.”

“Can I take you out all of the time?” He reaches out for your cheek, brushing his thumb along it.

“Well you do owe me a lot of meals.” You tease. This might better than any date he’s ruined, but you’re not about to let him off that easy.

“I’m sure I can work something out with you.” He mutters, practically right up against your lips, before kissing you completely.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fan fic #mat barzal fanfiction #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #my hockey fics

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starryevermore · 4 years

Text

the one that I want ✧ colby brock

pairing: colby brock x reader

request: 3,4,8 Reader is best friends with Colby, complains about the boys shes dated to him and it takes her awhile perhaps a talk with Sam or so for her to figure out that whats shes wanted in a guy has been in front of her all along. Maybe he playfully flirts and she doesnt take the hints he puts out idk.

prompts: 3. “Come back to bed. It’s too early to be a function member of society.” / 4. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to kiss you.” / 8. “No! You can’t leave. You’re my prisoner for the day.” “Prisoner?” “Yeah, a prisoner of love.”

summary: The reader realizes Colby is the one that she wants.

word count: 1,364

warnings?: a lil bit of unrequited love for a hot minute but it ends well :)

“I just don’t get how my dating life could be so shitty,” you sighed.

You had gone to Sam to talk about the horrors of your dating life. Usually, you would reserve those complaints for Colby, your best friend in the entire world, but today you wanted a new perspective. So, you found yourself in Sam’s apartment, talking about how much you hate dating in L.A.

“Well, what’s your ideal guy?” Sam asked.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You keep going after horrible guys and complain about it. If you hate them so much, maybe you should consider what you actually want in a person.”

You hummed, realizing he made a surprising amount of sense. You took a moment to think before saying, “I want someone who thinks I look beautiful whether I’m wearing a full face of makeup or I’m not wearing any at all. I want someone who makes me laugh so hard my stomach hurts. Someone who's there for me in the good and the bad times. Someone who loves me as much as I love them. Someone who makes me happy.”

Sam chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you realize who you just described to a T?”

“No?”

Sam chuckled again. “Colby.”

“What? No!”

“C’mon, think about it,” he said. “Colby always listen to you complain about your shitty Tinder dates.”

Another Tinder date had gone horribly wrong. You had dolled yourself up, putting on a perfect full face of makeup and styling your hair to perfection. You put on your best outfit, drove out to the bar you were supposed to meet him at. You waited thirty minutes. Then an hour. Then an hour and a half. And you realized that the bastard had stood you up.

Hot tears welled up in your eyes as you stormed to your car. You weren’t sure where you were driving to until you ended up outside of Colby’s apartment building. You left your car and wandered up to his apartment. You knocked on the door, praying that he was awake.

Colby swung the door open, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “Hey what’s—Oh my god, what happened?”

“He...he...he stood me up,” you wailed. Colby immediately tugged you into his apartment, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “Why are there such shitty people in the world that would do this?”

“I don’t know, baby, I don't know,” he said, rubbing your back.

“Like, am I not pretty enough? Is that why he didn’t show?”

Colby took a step back, his mouth agape. “You take that back. You are easily the most beautiful woman I know, whether you’re wearing makeup or not. If that jackass can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

You sniffled, pulling Colby back for a hug. “I just don’t get why someone would do this.”

“Because he’s a piece of shit,” Colby said. “C’mon, let’s get you comfortable. I still have some of your makeup wipes in the bathroom. You go take it off, and I’ll go get you some comfy clothes.”

After removing your makeup and putting on one of Colby’s hoodies, you curled up in bed with Colby, still sobbing as he rubbed your back.

You weren't sure how much time had passed until the sunshine streamed through the window and you realized you had fallen asleep in Colby’s arms. You started to get up when Colby tugged on your arm. You looked down at him.

He quietly said, “Come back to bed. It’s too early to be a function member of society.”

You smiled softly, curling back up in his arms. Maybe guys weren’t so shitty after all.

"Yeah, but that’s just called being a good friend!” you argued. “That doesn’t mean he’s into me or something.”

“Suuuure,” he said. “Whatever you want to believe.”

“What else does Colby allegedly do that makes him my dream guy?”

“Well, you two always flirt, and every time you do, you are the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”

It was pizza night at Sam’s apartment and you were running a bit late. By the time you got there, everyone had already started eating and were off in little corners, having their own conversations. You grabbed a slice of pizza, looking around to see which group you could jump into.

As you looked, Colby came up beside you, letting out a low whistle and said, “Damn, how has no one wifed you up yet?”

Your face burned red. “Oh, shut it. We both know I look awful.”

Colby shook his head. “No, no, no. I think I must’ve gotten a bit lost, cause I think I’m in a museum looking at a work of art.”

“Stooop,” you said, blushing even harder.

“Nah, something must be wrong with my eyes because I can’t seem to take them off of you.”

“You’re so weird,” you laughed, turning to go talk to Katrina and Tara.

As you reached them, Katrina nudged your arm. “What was that over there?”

“You mean Colby? He’s just being a dork.”

Tara shook her head. “No way. He’s totally into you.”

“No, he does that with every single girl. It’s nothing personal.”

The girls exchanged a knowing look, but said something else.

"Yeah but that’s nothing serious!”

Sam raised a brow.

“Seriously! I’m sure Colby doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Okay, we can assume that’s true. But what about how he’s always there when you need someone?”

You were stressed beyond relief. Every deadline imaginable was staring at you straight in the face and you couldn’t figure out where to even begin on completing shit. You had holed yourself up in your apartment for the last week, dodging any calls and texts from your concerned friends.

At least, until a Mr. Colby Brock came knocking at your door. He pulled you from your work, declaring that you needed a break so your mind could rest. He drug you to his apartment, forced you to sit through your favorite movies, and ordered you your favorite food. At one point, you tried to sneak off while he went to the bathroom, but he caught you and forced you to stay.

“No! You can’t leave. You’re my prisoner for the day,” he’d said.

“Prisoner?” you laughed.

“Yeah, a prisoner of love.”

You laughed even harder, but settled back on the couch as the next movie began. As you watched the movie with Colby, you looked over at him and quietly said, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my best girl,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

You stayed silent. What if Sam was right?

“Seriously, Colby does like you,” Sam said. “You’re honestly kind of perfect for each other.”

You took a moment to look at your watch and nearly jumped up when you saw what time it was. “Shit, sorry, Sam, I gotta go.”

“Wait, why?”

“Colby and I have a movie night planned. He gets whiny if I’m late.”

Sam smiled to himself, watching you scurry over to Colby’s apartment. “Dammit, those two are made for each other.”

Over at Colby’s apartment, you were snuggled up to Colby as Scott Pilgrim vs. the World played. The longer you sat there, the more thought you gave to your conversation with Sam. Was he right? Did Colby like you? Was Colby the one that you wanted all along? You found yourself staring at Colby as he watched the movie, wondering if he really could like you. Then you thought about what it would be like to kiss him, to go on dates with him, to be in a relationship you both deserved.

Eventually, he noticed you staring and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You hesitated for a moment before confessing, “I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”

“Wait seriously?”

You didn’t respond, instead leaning in and kissing him softly. He didn’t respond immediately, so you pulled away, feeling defeated.

“No no no, do that again please,” Colby whined. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

So, you leaned in again, smiling against Colby’s lips as the two of you enjoyed each other’s presence.

Yeah, this was the kind of relationship you both deserved.

#sam and colby #sam golbach #colby brock #snc #xplr #snc imagine #snc fanfiction #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfiction #traphouse #traphouse 2.0 #trap house #trap house 2.0 #colby brock fluff #written by: me #starrybrock

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saejinws · 3 years

Text

let’s get it! it’s chey ( she/her ), bringing you wishbone’s act #2, paksae. he’s an indie artist with heavy influence from the bedroom pop & chillwave micro-genres, as you can gather from his three official singles at the moment: cassette, karma & late night movie. if discord is more convenient for you, you can add me there ( stream do or not#1490 ), but otherwise, i’m usually reachable in ims! here are saejin’s links : career / stats / plots / pinterest, and hopefully all the other information you need will be found below.

the story.

saejin was lucky enough to be born into a relatively happy family, albeit a small one. both parents are only children, so he didn’t have aunts, uncles or cousins, and only his maternal grandparents were heavily involved with the family, but it was alright! lower middle class, mom who made him watch bird documentaries, dad who had a face made out of stone, but there was still a lot of love. it was nice.

the first big change happened when his little sister ( saebyeol ) was born. her existence put a tragic end to his legacy as the park family’s number one baby, considering she’s a whole eight years younger than him.

in the next year, his mom was diagnosed with a chronic illness; one that would see her rapidly going in and out of hospitals for years to come, so the days of naïve happiness were over for saejin. from that point on, it was about “cherishing every moment” and “living life to the fullest” and “not wasting breath on things that can’t be changed”.

aka his mom’s circumstances meant that he was constantly getting scolded by doctors, rns, family friends, his dad, whoever for displaying negative emotions. was shut down a lot, told that he was being a hassle and that he needed to make things easier for his mom. learned to suppress his emotions unless they were positive.

but while most adults in his life were trying to teach him how to be realistic and approach life with an understanding that nothing is easy, his mom worked hard to do the exact opposite. constantly pushed him to chase his dreams because life is so short, and when he decided that he was going to pursue music, she was the first person to tell him to go for it and give it his all.

got his first guitar at age 14, which is when he started writing his own songs and messing around with editing software, but it wasn’t until 2015 that he started playing his music for people. started in coffee shops ( at this point, his songs were entirely acoustic ), then started playing in clubs in hongdae, which is when he started experimenting with his sound. struggled to gain attention. can’t think of what it’s called rn, but there’s a set amount of tickets that opening acts have to sell to earn their spot in a lineup; saejin’s parents and close friends usually bought a tonnn to help him out because strangers wouldn’t give him the time of day. a nobody. hung out after his sets to meet people, but nobody wanted to meet him. pain.

popularity steadily grew over time, and by late 2019, he was in talks with wishbone records. by the new year, he was a signed artist.

assumed that having a record deal guaranteed International Stardom, so you can imagine his surprise when his first music video hardly gained 5k views in the entire debut week... it was an eye-opening experience for him. realized that the grind was, in fact, not over yet.

his popularity is on a steady incline, but he still isn’t anywhere close to being a household name. very lowkey. he pretends that he doesn’t care, but it eats away at him. spends most of his time in his studio nowadays, trying to create a song that will pull him into the charts. becoming more distant from his parents because he’s so caught up in work, so that’ll probably come back around to bite him in the ass eventually but yk... oh well.

saebyeol is the only family member whom he couldn’t distance himself from if she tried because she’s a parasite. always at his apartment or blowing up his phone, which drives him absolutely crazy because her favorite pastime is ruthlessly bullying him. she’s a little demon.

the character.

park saejin, aka PAKSAE. ‘97. seoulite. soloist.

social introvert. he prefers to spend time alone and usually doesn’t seek company, but if he’s approached first, he’s a relatively open book. forms bonds quickly.

gets unreasonably attached to his friends in short periods of time, so he tries to keep his circle small. he can only deal with wondering why three people aren’t texting him back in a single day: any more than that and he spirals.

pretty optimistic view of life, i think. could’ve become jaded due to his mom’s situation, but she’s made huge efforts to keep his worries minimal and be the best role model she can be in her circumstances. has tried to instill a “life is short, so embrace every moment with open arms” mentality in both of her kids, which saejin picked up on a whole lot more than his little sister has. you probably wouldn’t assume this by listening to his Pity Party Songs ( as saebyeol puts it ), but he’s a happy guy!

on the topic of his pity party songs, all three of his singles so far are a bit sad/melancholic, detailing looking back on the ending of something. he rarely expresses sadness or regret in his day-to-day life, but he considers music to be an outlet. the one place he can be as real as he wants without being criticized. ( that’s what he thought before, anyway. nowadays, he’s constantly getting comments about how nobody wants to listen to him cry about his breakups. fair enough. )

his appearance contradicts his personality. on the outside, he seems like a very loud, expressive person: vibrant colors, unusual materials ( silk chiffon, organza, velvet, etc ), lots of accessories such as gaudy rings, y2k-style beaded necklaces & polymer clay earrings that he probably buys from etsy. but he’s really, really chill & soft-spoken, tries to blend in even though it’s... impossible when he looks the way that he does.

gets most of his social interaction through the sporadic gigs that he plays. on stage, he’s highly expressive and interactive with his fans. when i think of his stage presence, i think of artists like lauv & troye sivan: he utilizes all of his stage space, even when performing more mellow songs. doesn’t want to just stand around and bore his audience. but nowadays, he rarely waits around to meet people because he’s become even more introverted than he was before. in his day-to-day life, there are only about three people whom he contacts frequently and always shows up for. otherwise, his connections are situational: associates the people in his life with certain places, things or activities and rarely meets up with them outside those situations. prefers to communicate through texts or social media messages if he can, but even then, if you aren’t one of his three closest friends, it’s difficult to reach him unless he needs or wants something.

but even tho he’s SUCH a loner... he’s what i like to call a serial romantic. not on a dating ban and also not that popular anyway, so he goes on a lot of dates. blind dates, tinder dates, whatever. texting his friends like “i think i’m in love” twice a month but he’s never talking about the same person. wears a heart-shaped rose quartz pendant to try to manifest meeting his soulmate but he doesn’t want to be clowned for believing in the power of crystals/stones ( or for being so obsessed with love even though it’s OBVIOUS if you listen to his music ) so he says he just wears it ‘cause it’s nice to look at.

his stage name, 박새, is a type of bird. it’s usually stylized as paksae, so most people don’t question it much, but eventually his intl fanbase got curious about what it means and popped the hangul into a translator: lo and behold, he’s now “affectionately” referred to by fans in english-speaking regions as tit. it isn’t saebyeol’s fault but he’s definitely found a way to blame her for it.

if you go to any of his music videos, you will find numerous comments from paksaeanti05. that’s saebyeol. usually she’s hating on him, but if anyone ELSE tries to hate on him, she turns into a keyboard warrior. she’s his biggest critic and his most loyal supporter.

#ws:intro

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just-a-happening · 4 years

Text

Kelly from Psych | T.H

Summary: Sometimes destiny looks like walking in on someone in the bathroom at a party you didn’t want to be at and he wasn't invited to.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1,815

Author’s Note: hello! again! everyone was so nice in my last fic that I decided to give it another go. am I a one-hit-wonder? you decide! also, I’ve decided that all my fics exist within the same universe, so it’s just like one long story if that makes any sense anyways this is how you met!

You picked nervously at the label of your beer bottle, searching the faces in the crowd for your roommate. It’d been an hour since she disappeared and what had started as a drink to pass the time had quickly escalated to two Stella’s and a slight buzz.

In her defense, you should have known better. You’d been reluctant to agree to be her plus one at an old classmate’s going away party—“You remember Kelly! From Psych!”—but after negotiating a quick but long-enough-to-be-polite appearance followed by ice cream at your favorite parlor in the East Village, you’d caved.

You lost her within the first half-hour after she spotted an old flame in the crowd, making empty promises about how she wouldn’t be long.

“I don’t want him thinking I’m not over him!” she argued, already backing away towards where he was standing with a few friends you recognized from the three dorm-room parties you’d been forced to attend.

“But you aren’t over him,” you’d countered, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I am,” she said and you didn’t know who she as trying to convince more: her, or you. “Just relax, okay? I’ll be right back.”

That was an hour and a half ago.

You downed the rest of your drink, smiling sheepishly and gesturing at your now empty bottle as you excused yourself from the small gathering of people that had assembled around you. Not that it really mattered, everyone was so engrossed in the conversation—to which you’d contributed so little—that no one so much as glanced your way as you slipped away.

The crowd had thickened into a dense throng of people. A quiet, intimate, friendly get-together you could handle. A full-blown college rager full of people you hardly knew and barely remembered? Less so. As you weaved through the throng of people you felt anxiety creep into your chest making it uncomfortably tight.

No amount of ice cream was worth this.

You made it to the kitchenette, which was an oversight on your part. It was impossibly full of at least a dozen people grabbing at chips and beer, emptying the scarce selection by the case. You scanned the room over guests’ heads for a few seconds before zeroing in on the perfect escape.

You traded in your empty bottle of beer for a new one and all but sprinted across the small two-bedroom apartment, ducking into the bathroom by the coat closet and shutting the door behind you quickly, not stopping to check whether there was a line.

The sound of music and small talk dulled, falling away until it was basically white noise and you felt relief wash over you. You closed your eyes and turned to press your back against the door, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

For a brief second, everything was better.

But then you heard someone cleared their throat and you felt your blood turn to ice in your veins—you’d been so preoccupied about finding an escape you’d never stopped to consider that there was someone already inside.

Your eyes flew open and you came face to face with the unfortunate stranger whose privacy you’d completely invaded, your gaze meeting a strangely familiar one.

You felt your mouth fall open.

He gave a little wave, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. You thought you must look as overwhelmed as I felt.

“Uh, hi.”

Unfortunately, your mouth worked faster than your brain and instead of the string of apologies he probably deserved, you said: “I swear I’m not a fan.”

He blinked, the ghost of a smile dancing on his lips. “Pardon?”

Shit. You swallowed hard and tried again. “I just–I didn’t want you to think that I, like, followed you into the bathroom like some kind of creep or something because I didn’t.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean I am a fan,” you backtracked helplessly. “Of your work, I mean. I’m more of an Iron Man girl myself, but you’re great, too. I just–I’m not one of those fans–not that there’s anything wrong with those kinds of fans! Except, maybe there is? Because nobody should be following anybody into the bathroom regardless of whether or not they’re Spider-Man, y’know? Which you obviously are.”

“Obviously,” he agreed and you chose to overlook the fact that he was very clearly making fun of you.

You don’t know what you expected, but this wasn’t it. His demeanor was surprisingly calm, all things considered. You wondered if maybe this wasn’t the first time this had happened to him, which seemed like a terrible thing to get used to.

There was a beat of awkward silence where he watched you, openly amused, as you felt around behind you for the doorknob. After what felt like a small eternity, your hands closed around it and you smiled sheepishly.

“Anyways, I’m just gonna go and find a different hiding place, preferably one where I don’t make a total ass of myself, and uh leave you to it–” you tried to pry the door open but he cut you off before you could manage to slip out.

“Wait, who are you hiding from?” he asked.

Your fingers fell away from the handle. “Um, everyone?”

He nodded, gesturing lightly around the room before saying, “Well then, if that’s the case you might as well stay. That way we can hide from everyone together. Strength in numbers and all that.”

You tried not to smile. “Why are you hiding from everyone?”

He pointed loosely to the party that was raging on outside with a half-empty beer bottle you hadn’t realized he'd been holding. “Oh you know, just doing my best to avoid crazy fangirls who follow me into bathrooms and stuff,” he teased. “They seem always find me, though.”

You flushed. “I never said anything about being crazy.”

He feigned innocence, one hand moving over his heart like some kind of celebrity boy scout. “What makes you think I was talking about you?”

Before you could fire back a response, someone knocked on the door and without missing a beat, the two of you replied, “Occupied!”

When you were sure the coast was clear, you gave him a pointed look.

“You know, they’re going to think we’re hooking up in here now.”

He laughed, “I’m sorry to have to break it to you, love, but according to the tabloids I’m actually already having a secret love affair with my co-star.”

You gasped playfully. “Which one?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “All of them, I think.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Scandalous.”

You slid down the door to sit on the tile floor, grateful you’d gone with jeans instead of the leather number your roommate had tried to corral you into. For the first time since making your dramatic entrance you realized that for someone trying to stay under the radar, he wasn’t dressed very inconspicuously in a pair of dark pants and a printed button-up.

Then again, maybe that was the perfect camouflage.

“I’m Tom,” he said, holding his arm out to you across the too-small space.

You took his hand. “Would it be shitty of me to say ‘I know?’”

“As long as your fine with being impolite.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you, Tom.”

“Much better.”

You hugged your knees closer to your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. It was evident this wasn’t a bathroom meant to be shared by two people at the same time, the ends of your shoes brushing his with every small movement despite sitting on opposite ends.

You should have felt cramped and uncomfortable, but instead, you felt strangely at ease.

Which is how you found yourself falling into easy conversation. He was in town for business, just a few weeks of press before heading back home for the holidays. You told him about how you’d negotiated Christmas but sacrificed New Years at work. He told you most of the time he sacrificed both. You did your best to keep from asking about Hollywood and he was surprisingly good-natured about it when you inevitably failed. He asked you about college and the party and your roommate who still wasn’t answering your texts.

“So tell me,” you started and he leaned forward. At some point during the conversation, he’d slid down from the bathtub’s edge to the floor, his knees now slotted in between yours. You tried to keep the intimacy of it all from distracting you. “How did you end up here? I didn’t peg you as a party crasher.”

He almost looked offended. “I’ll have you know I was invited,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes skeptically. “Really?”

“Not exactly,” he conceded. “But my mate Harrison has been kind of seeing one of the girls who lives here–or I guess lived here.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “Your friend is dating Kelly from Psych?”

His lips twitched. “Well, I know her as Kelly from Tinder.”

“Huh,” you said, in a voice right above a whisper. “Small world.”

“Isn’t it?” he said, his stare latched to yours. “Out of all the girls in New York, Haz swiped right on Kelly and out of all bathrooms in this flat, we both chose this exact one.”

You felt a twinge in your chest but you pushed it down. “Not to take away from this otherwise great moment, but I do think this might be the only bathroom in this apartment.”

He scoffed. “Semantics, love.”

“Are you saying that us being friends is some kind of destiny?” you countered, narrowing your eyes at him lightly.

The word ‘friends’ hung between you so tangibly you felt like you could pluck it out of the air. You don’t know why you said it, it had just slipped out, but now that it had, there was no taking it back. What else were you supposed to say? This wasn’t exactly a conventional situation.

Besides, it was pretty bold of you to assume that sitting in a bathroom for an hour with someone even constituted a friendship, much less anything more. But something told you it wasn’t supposed to end here and friends felt like a good place to start.

“I guess I am.”

You straightened up and squared your shoulders, holding your now-empty beer bottle out to him, almost as a challenge.

“Friends?”

He touched his equally empty bottle to yours, eyes bright. “Friends.”

For a moment you both just stared at each other, the air loaded with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. When you couldn’t stand it anymore, you peaked at your phone screen to check the time.

“So friend,” you said and he grinned. “Want to get out of here? I know a great ice cream place.”

He pretended to ponder it. “You know friend, I think I might.”

And you did.

It wasn’t until much later, long after saying good-bye at your subway stop after turning down his offer of paying for a car—“My subway card works just fine thank you very much.” “Right, but does it have leather interiors and seat warmers?”—and after making loose plans to meet again tomorrow for lunch that you finally heard from your roommate.

It was well past midnight but dessert had put you behind on work and you had spreadsheets to finalize before bed, which is why noticed when your phone lit up with two messages from an unknown number.

Remember no chains tomorrow. You promised the real New York experience!

This is Tom btw

Before you could answer another message came in, this time from your roommate.

did you really leave kelly’s party with tom fucking holland ????

You bit back a smile.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #peter parker #tom holland fluff #boyfriend!tom #tom holland fic #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland reader insert #tom holland imagine #tom holland scenario #tom holland x reader imagine #tom holland x you

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writeroutoftime · 4 years

Text

lost in love and time - chapter 1

CATCH UP - PROLOGUE PART 1, PROLOGUE PART 2

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: haunted mansion au - flash forward to present time and natasha and sam can’t seem to drag you away from work. when they finally do, what is it about a call that pulls you to this house?

warnings: none

words: 2092

a/n: first of all, I am so so sorry for the long wait in between the prologue and this chapter! life kinda got in the way, but I am back on track now! also, bucky is not in this chapter, but don’t you worry he is coming soon and this is really important to set up the rest of the story! so, please enjoy, stay safe, and have a lovely day!

oOoOo

Present Day

The soft and steady tune of a waltz pulls your mind away from the paperwork in front of you and transports you to another world. It is a world you’ve traveled to many times, but one you can never place your finger on. There was the familiar presence of someone near you, but as always, it was impossible to identify who they were. All you could make out was the protective and comforting feeling they provide you with. The waltz grows in volume in your mind, but keeps the same, steady tempo as you and the haze of the presence with you glided across a blurry room. The dance continues, and you feel yourself grow lighter and lighter, the room starting to come into focus. You could now make out a faint outline of the man you were dancing with, and the rest of the room follows with it, until –

“y/n!” Natasha shouted, pulling you out of your daydream.

Her voice snapped your eyes open and you all but gasp at sound of it, jumping slightly in your chair. Papers that were on your desk flew to the floor from your sudden movement, and you hurried to pick them up. “Did it happen, again?” you asked.

Natasha nodded with a small smirk. “And just as I was getting that song out of my head.”

“Try having it stuck in your mind all the time.” you groaned in frustration. “I’ll never be able to place it.”

For as long as you could remember, you had this tune stuck in your head that you could never identify. It was some kind of waltz that had the power to distract you. Each time that happened, it was as though you were pulled into some kind of memory, but nothing ever became clear or made sense to you. No matter how many songs you listened to or how many hours you spent pouring over classical compositions to find something similar to what you heard, you always came up empty.

“Well, I’m just here to collect those files on that house you just completed. There’s a potential client who wants to see the new design.” she said, but you caught her apologetic look at your frustration.

Immediately, you began to look for said files among the mess that was on your desk. You worked at a firm that specialized in designing, decorating, and selling high-scale houses, and you were one of their top interior decorators. Many clients asked for you specifically because of the way you were able to pull inspiration from vintage decoration, yet still give buildings a fresh and modern feel.

As you looked for the files, Natasha glanced around the office, noticing how cluttered everything was. There were unused mugs and containers from past meals scattered throughout. “When was the last time you went home, girl?” she asked. “Or went on a date, for that matter.” she mumbled, but you caught her quip at your lack of a love life.

“Very funny.” you deadpanned as you handed the files over. “And for your information, I went on a date about two weeks ago.”

“And?” Natasha asked, now seated in the chair across from your desk, an excited smile on her face.

There was a moment of hesitation before you responded, not meeting her eyes. “I didn’t call him back.”

“y/n!” she groaned and threw her arms up in frustration.

“What?” you defended. “He just wasn’t the right guy, I could tell.”

Your friend rolled her eyes at the answer she had heard a million times before. “They never are. How can you know after just one date?”

“I just do, okay?” you grumbled, not wanting to have this conversation again. “I know the right guy is out there, and I’ll know when I find him.” you added as you waked to the window that looked out over the city.

Since you were young, you had believed that there was one perfect person out there for everybody – you just had to find them. As you grew older, those around you began to reject that notion, but you held onto it even tighter. Why shouldn’t you wait for the one you were meant to be with? And maybe it was taking longer, than you (or Natasha) would like, but that didn’t matter to you. When it happened, you would know.

Recently, though, you did have to admit that you had been spending more time at work and less time socializing off the clock. It just didn’t feel right to you. For some reason, you never really felt connected to this day and age and how people wanted to ‘hang out’ by clubbing and going on Tinder dates. Some called you old fashioned, but you just knew what you liked. So, while others were out doing that, you threw yourself into your job.

Luckily, before Natasha could suggest yet another blind date to set you up with, the two of you were interrupted.

“How’s my favorite interior designer and realtor doing?” you heard and turned to find Sam in the doorway to your office.

A smile stretched across your face as you greeted Sam and motioned for him to come in and join you and Natasha. When you started working at Stark Realtors, Sam and Natasha had been the first two people you met, and the three of you had remained friends since. Despite you being an interior designer, Natasha being a relator, and Sam being an architect, you all, surprisingly, found yourselves spending time together both in and out of work.

“Fine. Just thinking that y/n here needs to take a little break from work.” Natasha said with a teasing grin.

Before you could make your case, Sam made himself comfortable in and chair and grinned. “Hell yeah! I’m down for a weekend away. How ‘bout this weekend?” he asked, casually.

“Perfect.” Natasha said and her head snapped towards you, curiously.

“Guys, as much as I’d love to spend the weekend with you, I can’t.” you said and rushed to look busy by putting some papers away in your file cabinet.

Groans of protests came from Sam and Natasha at your statement. “Come on, y/n!” Sam pleaded.

“I’ve seen your schedule for this weekend.” Natasha said. “You’re completely free.”

Your mouth opened at her words, trying to think of a counterargument. After a moment, you closed your mouth and placed your hand on your hip and glared at her, hoping she would cave. It was a lost cause, and one you shouldn’t have engaged in. Natasha was the master of the stare down, and you knew that within a minute she would have you agreeing to go on the trip.

Her gaze intensified, and somehow gave off an authoritarian, yet innocent look, and you were the first look away. “Damn it!” you mumbled. A sigh left your lips, but after a moment you turned to your friends with a slight smile. “Alright, I guess we’re going away this weekend.”

They cheered at your words and promised to take care of everything. All you had to do was pack, and pick them up tomorrow, after work. Not long after, Natasha left with the papers she had originally come in for, and Sam offered you a hug before he left.

Once your office was empty once more, you fell back into your desk chair and exhaled loudly through your mouth. Silence once more washed over you, and you willed the tune that had been stuck in your head earlier, not to come back. For a small amount of time, you focused on the paperwork you needed to complete and file, shuffling papers around every few minutes. It wasn’t until the phone rang that you were pulled out of your bubble.

“y/n y/l/n, interior designer for Stark Relators. How may I help you?” you answered, eyes still focused on your paperwork.

“y/n, y/l/n?” the voice confirmed, slightly nervous.

You forced a sigh back at the repetitiveness of the caller so far. “Yes, sir. How can I help you today?” you asked, again.

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you had time to stop by the house I work at for a consultation? My employer is looking for a change, and you come highly recommended.” the man on the phone spoke.

The tone surprised you, but you quickly balanced the phone between your ear and shoulder and grabbed your calendar. “Of course, sir. When would be most convenient for you and your employer?”

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow would most likely work best.” he spoke hurriedly.

As you were about to confirm the appointment, you remembered that tomorrow afternoon you were leaving with Sam and Natasha, and you were booked with meetings and other appointments all morning. “I’m so sorry, sir, but tomorrow doesn’t work for me. I could do first thing on Mon- “

“No!” he all but shouted, then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, but I must ask, is there any way it could be tomorrow?” he almost pleaded. “I promise it will be worth your while. It is quite a big project.” he added trying to entice you.

Right as you were about to decline, something inside of you told you to accept. “Alright, sir.” you agreed and settled on a time for early evening, and he gave you the address.

At the end of the call, you thanked him for his time, and hung up, a smile on your face. Sam and Natasha were going to kill you, but it would be – at most – a thirty-minute delay before you could start your weekend away together. What could go wrong?

oOoOo

When Friday came around, you had everything packed and got in your car to go pick up Sam, and then you picked up Natasha. As soon as she stepped out of her apartment, she took one look at your outfit and gave you a pointed glare. “Really, y/n?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Sam, who had been messing with the music, looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“You didn’t notice y/n’s outfit? Don’t you think it’s a little strange to be wearing something so professional for a weekend away?” she asked Sam, though she kept her gaze on you the whole time.

Her stare made you squeamish and you couldn’t help the guilt that was rising within you. Instead, you just waited for her to get in the car and drove away. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t refuse this consultation.” you finally said, your voice at least had the decency to sound shameful.

“A consultation, really?” Sam asked, sighing in frustration.

Natasha threw her arms in the air. “The whole point of this weekend is to get away from work, and now you’re driving straight towards it.”

In your defense, this was an offer you couldn’t pass up, and, again, you had felt some pull to accept it. “Like I said, this is a big deal, and not just for me. Maybe their looking to sell this house, which could mean big bucks for you Natasha. And Sam, maybe as the designer, I could suggest that some architectural changes be made.” you tried to persuade your friends.

After a moment of silence, Sam spoke up. “How long is this going to take?”

“Thirty minutes at most.” you guaranteed.

The silence that followed that time, you took as reluctant acceptance. The drive continued, until you turned down a dirt road that was long and somewhat narrow. It felt like it wouldn’t end, and the further down the path you drove, the further from the outside world you got. Whoever lived here, did not want to be disturbed. Finally, you could see some property ahead of you that most likely belonged to the employer of the man you had spoken to on the phone.

Your pressure on the gas began to slow as you saw gates ahead of you, and eventually you stopped, and all three of you let out a gasp. Bent over the steering wheel to get a better look, you gazed upon the glorious mansion that was in front of you. It was a grand, white structure that had pillars down the front and iron gates placed around the house. It gave off a late Victorian feel and you thought it looked absolutely beautiful. Of course, the grounds surrounding it needed a bit of love, and it truly looked like no one lived there, but you still loved it.

“Just look at it.” you whispered, more so to yourself.

“Now how do we get through the gates?” Sam asked.

oOoOo

tags: @readermia @mgk-rooklover1997 @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @dabooks23 @loser-alert @themeanestlittlewitch @peaches-roses-sins @tiffanynguyen03

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #lost in love and time #haunted mansion au

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yikeswtfmate · 4 years

Text

Part 1: Ungodly Hours

Of Tinder Dates & Caramel Macchiatos - Series Masterlist // main masterlist // next part

Summary: Y/N had no idea her new work routine would bring a certain handsome bartender to her table where she drinks her coffee every morning. Steve is sweet, although a bit sleep deprived, and Natasha thinks Y/N and him would make the perfect pair. But dating him is out of the question. What happens when, tired of Nat’s bizarre behaviour, Y/N installs Tinder and meets this really cute guy who can read her like an open book?

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; Thor Odinson x Reader

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, sexual references and themes

A/N: guess who’s back! back again with a very long Steve series that might be the end of me but that i already love with my whole heart and oh god i am so nervous i really hope you’re gonna like this

Coffee shops in the morning could easily be considered anyone’s personal hell. The sheer amount of people trudging along to get their daily fix of caffeine would normally make Y/N stop in her tracks and take a turn towards the nearest coffee vending machine, even if it tastes worse than crap. At least she doesn’t have to wait for half an hour in line stuck between a very loud lawyer and that one mum who insists on buying the nastiest green smoothie she’s ever seen in her life.

However, coffee shops at 6 in the morning, right about when Peter changes the sign from closed to open, are heaven sent. Sure, the prospect of having to be out and about for work at 6 am is less than ideal, but at least she’s always been more or less a morning person. And her paycheck has been considerably fatter last month.

Y/N takes her usual seat outside, caramel macchiato right next to her laptop. Today should be an easy day - fill out some paperwork before she heads to the office at 8.45, pick up Pepper’s coffee, and sort out whatever has been left of this week. Easy, simple and to the point, although Nat would love to argue that Saturdays are for sleeping in, and not for personally picking up documents from various stakeholders.

“Or better yet, download Tinder and work out your stress with random guys.” Nat had suggested last night on the phone, when Y/N made the mistake of mentioning she hadn’t had any in too many months to count. “There’s this great guy I know…”

“No.” Y/N interrupted, knowing exactly where that would’ve gone. “Every time you tried to set me up with someone, it ended up in disaster. We’re not doing this again, Nat.”

“I just want you to be happy.” She muttered, most definitely being silently admonished by Bucky for trying to interfere in her friend’s life yet again.

“I am happy, sweetheart. Just because I’m not getting any at the moment, that doesn’t mean I’m not happy. Plus, you know what I think -”

“If it’s meant to be, there’s no point in me chasing it, yes.” Nat echoed with a roll of her eyes. “Sometimes your whole attitude of ‘go with the flow’ pisses me off. I say you should go after what you want.”

“Well, there’s nothing, or no one to want at the moment so there’s no point in me getting into a frenzy about it. When the moment’s right, it will happen.”

“Hey!”

The voice cuts right through the middle of her thought, interrupting Nat’s sneered answer of ‘I just hope he won’t be an asshole like your ex’, making Y/N look up from her laptop. There’s a guy standing next to her, one steaming cup of coffee in a hand, uncertain smile on a face ragged by what can only be lack of sleep. He’s tall and broad shouldered, and she can’t place him for a second, before her eyes land on the sleeve tattoo on his right arm.

“Steve?” She asks, just as hesitant.

“Yeah!” He grins, running his free hand through his hair, until there’s a blond mess of it. “Y/N, right? You’re Nat’s friend.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I uh- how are you?”

The whole scene most probably looks ridiculous to the outside eye - her sitting down, craning her neck to look at this monolith of a man, both of them oozing with awkwardness and hesitation. She’s always hated that touch of absurdity in interactions between people who know each other, but are not even acquaintances. Even though her job as an executive assistant requires her to navigate situations just like these, that does not mean it makes it easier for her to know how to do that in her personal life. It’s called balance - be a badass at your job, but you’re left an embarrassing mess when it comes to talking to cute guys that you don’t actually know.

“Just got off my shift. Thought I should grab a coffee and spare myself of falling asleep on the subway again.”

“Oh. You’re still working as a bartender then?” She replies, digging her claws into the faint memory of him running from one end of the bar to the other, barely managing to shake her hand after a brief introduction that one time she agreed to go out with Nat and Bucky.

“Yep. I’m actually part-owner now.” Steve says proudly and she can’t help but grin with him.

“Congratulations!” Y/N claps her hands - what is that, come on, get yourself together. “Hey, do you wanna take a seat and have your coffee? I feel weird sitting while you’re standing.”

“Ah, I shouldn’t. I’ve been up for almost 24 hours now.” He scratches the back of his head, checks his watch and glances at her again in thought. “But I can spare 5 more minutes to finish this. Wouldn’t want to spill it all over me again.”

Y/N smiles and does her best at clearing at least one corner of the table. He takes a seat, and she notices the way his knee brushes softly against hers, and fair enough, the table is small, but this guy is massive and he’s dwarfing everything around him - it’s no wonder they can barely fit together.

“So what are you up to at this ungodly hour of the morning on a Saturday?” He asks after swiftly scanning all the papers and electronics between them.

“Ah, my life is definitely less exciting than yours.” She laughs. “I’m just getting to work.”

“On a Saturday?” His confusion is clear. So is his amusement as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I see Nat hasn’t been complaining to everyone around her about me. That’s reassuring.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Steve shrugs. “Whenever they come to the bar, I’m usually working. I can barely exchange two words with them.”

“That’s right. I remember her saying something about you needing to get a break.”

“More like a life. I haven’t had a day off in months, I don’t even know what daylight looks like anymore.”

There’s no denying the fact that he looks exhausted - if the dark circles under his eyes wouldn’t be indication enough, it’s easy to read it in the tense set of his shoulders, the way he’s more slumping than sitting in his chair. Y/N is filled with a weird sense of wanting to make this man a cup of tea and order him to go to bed already. His gaze keeps shifting, as if it can’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds, and there’s a slight hint of misery written all over his features that is cleverly hidden by his happy-go-lucky attitude, which seems superficial if analysed closely. Perks of being the best at her job, curse for people who don’t want their business pried into, but then again...they don’t know each other that well, so she keeps her mouth shut. Whatever is bothering him is none of her damn business.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have no idea what nightlife looks like anymore.” She offers.

“We’d make an invincible human being if we were to join forces.” Steve laughs. “I’ll tell you all about teenagers trying to get in with fake IDs, how to get rid of vomit in the toilets and what’s the best way to mix a Long Island and you can tell me all about traffic in the morning, rush hour at lunchtime and what kids are up to when they get off school.”

“Mostly TikTok dances.” Y/N shrugs, which earns her the cutest sleep-deprived laugh she’s ever heard in her life.

“Is that what those are? Oh God, I feel old now.”

She chuckles - it’s cute, he’s cute. In a lost puppy kind of way, but her final verdict is interrupted by her phone vibrating next to her hand. Now, she wouldn’t normally be so rude as to answer a phone in the middle of a conversation, especially when she is focused on the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he’s grinning at his not-exactly-joke, but PEPPER CALLING is a rude awakening that she is supposed to actually be at work in less than 15 minutes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I have to get this, it’s my boss.”

“No worries. I should get going anyway. I think I’ve already slipped into sleepwalking anyway.” He stands up and fumbles around for a few seconds - yet another situation that neither of them seems to know how to handle. Are they supposed to shake hands? Hug? Take an imaginary hat off?

So Y/N settles on a smile, which must put him at ease a teensy bit, because he grins back at her - that boyish grin that made her think cute way too many times by this time of the day.

“It was great seeing you, Y/N. Don’t overwork yourself today. It is Saturday after all.”

“Says the one who’s 90% asleep.” Y/N giggles. “Bye, Steve!”

“See you around, sweetheart!”

Nat takes out a bottle of wine, moving around the well-lit kitchen as if she’s lived there her whole entire life, and not only for the past three weeks. Y/N is still mesmerised by the fake brick wall in front of her to pay attention to the glass thrust between her fingers - this apartment is gorgeous. She had no idea Bucky was so good at interior design, which must have been a huge selling point when they’ve decided where to live together. Christ, Y/N would have wanted to move in with him after only 5 months, for this apartment alone. But Nat is frowning - that deep line between her eyebrows leaves nothing to speculation, and Y/N knows her best friend too well not to realise that she is not happy with what she’s hearing.

“Are you going to say anything or should I just assume you’re pissed off?”

“I’m not pissed off.” Nat says, an immediate response that sounds too close to defensiveness to sound like truth. “I’m just- I’m surprised, is all. I mean, it is Steve we’re talking about here after all.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t understand why you’re reacting like this.”

Nat brings her foot up on her stool, and braces her knee while her other hand is playing with the rim of her glass. She’s avoiding eye contact, which is never a good sign when it comes to her, yet Y/N simply can’t put her finger on the reason behind her sudden change in demeanour when she’s told her that she met Steve this morning.

“I just don’t think that Steve would be the right person for you right now.” She finally mutters and there’s a tinge of embarrassment in her tone that Y/N can’t decipher.

“Ok, you’re going to have to explain what the hell is going on because I have no idea what’s with all this hostility. All I did was tell you that I chatted with Steve for half an hour this morning. How did you connect that to me getting into a relationship with him?”

“Because!” Nat groans. “You and Steve would be perfect for each other. Not to mention you’re my best friend and he’s Bucky’s best friend and just that idea alone gives me cavities. I want you to be together!”

“I’ve seriously never been more confused in my entire life.”

“Ok, look, I’m going to be completely honest with you right now.” Nat sighs and she at long last makes eye contact. “It’s not my story to tell, but the gist of it is that Steve’s recently gotten out of a relationship with one of my friends from work. He was completely swept off his feet, even Bucky’s never seen him this infatuated with someone. The problem is that, as much as I love Peggy, she really did a number on him. He’s been a complete wreck ever since and he doesn’t even know that she’s gotten back together with her ex. I’m just saying that he’s not in the right emotional state to get into another relationship right now. And you’re in a complete state at the moment as well.”

“Me?” Y/N squeals, surprised by this sudden change of direction. “What is wrong with me?”

“Honey, you also recently got out of a serious relationship where you were practically married to the guy. I really think you should spend some time alone and focus on yourself, and not guys. Flings, fuck buddies, Tinder, sure, whatever. Do whatever you couldn’t during these past few years, but you’re not ready to jump into another serious relationship again. I love you and I love Steve, but you’d probably destroy each other if you were to get together.”

Y/N waits for a few more seconds in order to make sure Nat’s said her piece. She’s surprised by her friend’s outburst - it was only yesterday that Y/N’s explained to her that she’s not willing to get herself out there just yet and she was rebuffed by promises of friends and possibilities. This mix of encouragement and relentlessness is nothing short of confusing. Especially since Y/N hasn’t even hinted at a potential romance with Steve.

“Ok, first of all, I want you to know that I agree with you. I’m not ready to get into another relationship right now, but I also want you to understand that I’m not going back to jumping into bed with guys I barely know. Look where that got me last time! Second, I didn’t tell you I saw Steve today because I want to be in a relationship with him. We just talked. As friends. Nothing more.”

They look at each other in silence for a few moments, a sense of uneasiness that Y/N’s never felt in the whole time she’s known Nat. There’s something odd about her reaction, but she can’t say what it is exactly. She guesses she can understand her friend’s protectiveness over Steve - after all, she knows all too well how much of a mama bear Nat can be with people she cares about, but isn’t she supposed to care more about what her best friend might want? Even if Y/N doesn’t want Steve, but it’s the principle of it!

“Right.” Nat mutters. “Well, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Nat, I’m not doing anything. I barely talked once with the guy by accident.”

This is getting ridiculous.

“Just remember that I don’t want to be involved in this.”

“There’s no this to be involved in!”

#steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #series: of tinder dates & caramel macchiatos #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #thor odinson fanfiction #thor odinson fic

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

On a Cold Summer Day

→ summary: Maybe deciding to leave California to attend uni in New York was the dumbest decision you've ever made. It's fucking freezing here! You don't think you can survive without the beach twenty minutes away from your living space. At least you have a native New Yorker Kim Seokjin to help you adjust. Kinda.

→ pairing/rating: seokjin x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 70% fluff, 30% crack | college!au

→ warnings: profanity, mentions of sex, implied sex, dating apps lol (tinder & bumble)

→ wordcount: 7.2k

cr.

This is a motherfucking abomination.

They're asking you to come to class on a Monday at 8 in the morning??? What kind of fucking monstrosity was this? You thought college was supposed to be a goodbye to waking up early. Now you have to take your goddamn philo 101 class at the asscrack of dawn (okay, it's not exactly dawn, but still).

It's too early to be discussing Socrates and human ethics and all that head-aching shit. And even worse, it's fucking freezing in New York!

You're what people call the basic SoCal girl. You grew up with palm trees in your backyard. Anything below 80 degrees is enough to make you bring out your winter jackets (which aren't really real jackets either). In fact, your definition of a winter jacket is slipping on a lightweight flannel over your usual tank top.

But now, in New York, damn the weather wasn't kind. You wear a parka to class and when you're waddling about the campus, you look like a giant marshmallow. Honestly, it's a little humiliating.

It hasn't even been a month and you already miss California. God, you miss the sunshine. And also In-N-Out.

The college workload isn't as bad as you anticipated so even after attending your dreaded morning classes, you're left with a sufficient amount of time. You used to spend those extra hours on Tinder, passing left and right on guys with the swipe of your thumb as you drooled over their shirtless profile pictures.

But ever since you met Jungkook—

Ah, Jungkook. He was a very interesting story. How do you start telling this? Hm.

Well, it really started on the first day of college. The moment after you attended orientation, found your dorm, kissed your parents goodbye and said hello to your roommates, you revisited your trust-worthy dating app, Tinder while lounging on your bed. All that professional business on the first day of uni kind of made you horny.

Back in California, you had a few memorable encounters with your Tinder partners that left you blushing and hot-faced for weeks. When your high school besties found out you were moving away from the Golden State to attend NYU, they would not let it go about all the hot NYC men you would be able to, er for the lack of better word choice, bang.

So you were going to listen to them and hook up with a New York guy. And not even twenty seconds into your swiping party on Tinder, you spot him.

His name is Jeon Jungkook. 20. NYU student. Civil Engineering. Hot damn. You had to take a few seconds to stalk his profile before screaming internally and victoriously swiping right. Now you just had to wait until he swipes right on you. If you're lucky, maybe you could get laid tonight.

And lucky you were.

You dressed in a simple outfit (that'd be easy to discard) and met Jungkook at the Shake Shack for a casual date (in which the burgers are not as half as good as the burgers in In-N-Out). After some casual discussion that honestly didn't last too long, he took you back to his rented apartment.

And then you had the worst sex in your life. Not that Jungkook was lacking in the downstairs department, (no, no he was pretty measurable), but apparently he had a roommate that would not fucking shut up for the life of him. It's not a very sexy experience when you hear someone loudly rage quit Minecraft in the room next to you.

But you and Jungkook had both laughed it off. After all, the two of you already really clicked. And on your part, although you didn't quite have the perfect hook up, you found a likable NYC man. You were surely going to see him again.

See him again you did. Jungkook made sure his roommate would be gone this time before the two of you lay down on his couch and began watching some random rom-com. Halfway through, he initiated some making out, which was as perfect as making out could get. Until you muttered something about how "sexy a NYC man is."

Jungkook laughed so hard he almost fell off the couch. The rest of the night was not spent having sex. Instead, the two of you stayed up late talking about your home states, which both happened to be California. You were so excited about meeting another Californian that your horniness completely dissipated.

And from then on, you and Jungkook became close buddies with slight benefits. (You found him to be a better platonic companion than a sexual partner.) Mostly you came to him to rant about New Yorkers, and he would laugh at you, telling you that you would get used to it.

So, that was your story with Jungkook.

Now you're on your way to his apartment with some Shake Shack to-go so the two of you can watch Shark Tank (which you've been dying to see). When you finally reach Jungkook's apartment and knock on his door, to your surprise Jungkook doesn't answer it. Instead, a tall man—a handsome man—stands looking at your rather puzzled face.

He's so unbelievably hot that your breath hitches.

"Hey," the man says, grinning. "JK's girl?"

"I'm single," you blurt out, no doubt making googly eyes at the man in front of you. "I-I brought some Shake Shack," you offer. "Um, Jungkook and I were, like, supposed to hang out..."

"I'm here!" Jungkook's calls from inside the apartment. "Let her in, bitch!"

"Yesterday I was 'motherfucker' and today, I'm 'bitch,' apparently," the Bitch Man says. "I think JK's forgotten my name." When he laughs, you don't know why you feel flustered. "I'm Seokjin," he says, gesturing for you to come into the apartment. "But you can call me Jin. Or any variation. I don't really care. As long as it's not 'bitch.' " Seokjin glares at Jungkook who's snickering in the background.

"O-Okay," you say, stumbling into the apartment and nearly tripping over your own shoes as you place the takeout bag on the kitchen counter.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jungkook says, slapping your back as he greets you merrily as usual. "Long time no see! I have the show on TV already. You ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," you say quickly. "Dude, but like who the fuck is the hottie?" you whisper urgently to your friend. "Like I don't remember you telling me you know someone like that."

"Oh, him?" Jungkook snorts. "That's my roommate."

Your eyes turn wide as you gape open-mouthed at the handsome figure casually lounging on the couch already. "Shut up. He's the fucking Minecraft rage quitter??"

Jungkook laughs. "Yeah. Not so handsome anymore, huh?"

You're still in shock, stuttering to find an answer, but Jungkook laughs at your pathetic attempt, grabbing the Shake Shack bag and dragging you over to the couch.

"Dude, is he like going to hang out with us?" you ask Jungkook in a low whisper, nodding over at Seokjin who was busily using his phone.

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind," Jungkook tells you as he man spreads on the right side of the couch, putting you in the middle of the two men. "His Bumble date canceled on him last minute. So I'm trying to patch up his enormous ego."

"Fuck, of course I don't mind," you hiss at him. "But if you told me earlier, I wouldn't have come here in sweats. Like I thought it was weird that you ordered two burgers, but like I just thought you had a huge appetite today!"

"I think you look hot in sweats."

"Well, thanks." Wait. You freeze. That was definitely not Jungkook's voice. A blush creeps up your cheeks as you turn to your left, only to see Seokjin, gazing at you with friendly eyes and a bright smile. "O-Oh!" you sputter. "T-Thanks, Jin. Sorry, it's just that like, I, uh I take first impressions pretty... um, seriously."

The man on your left laughs out loud. "Y/N, my first impression of you was weeks ago. I heard you and Jungkook through the wall."

Your mouth drops open. "No."

"Yes," Jin insists.

"NO!" you shout, leaning back from Seokjin and squishing Jungkook in the process. "Were you trying to be a loud gamer to drown out our noises?!" you shriek.

"Yes?" Seokjin says so obviously that he even phrases it like it's a question.

"Oh, god," you groan, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. I'm, like, actually so, so sorry."

Jungkook tries hard not to burst out laughing at your humiliation and even Jin can't help but grin.

"It's fine," Seokjin says. "You made it up to me with the burgers!" he exclaims, fishing out his Shake Shack hamburger from the bag and breathing in deeply. "Ahh," he sighs dreamily, "the best hamburger money can buy."

Okay. You have to admit that his perfect New York accent is hot, but you can't just ignore what he had just uttered. "I think In-N-Out has the best hamburger money can buy," you say, crossing your arms over your chest quite authoritatively. You tend to become quite defensive about Californian culture.

Jungkook snickers at how serious you've become in a matter of seconds but he stays silent.

Seokjin looks at you with his eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his lips. "Really?" he says. "You should get used to the Shake Shack then. We don't have In-N-Out around here."

Your mouth drops open for the second time today as you jerk your body around to stare at Jin. "What the fuck do you mean there's no In-N-Out?"

The man shrugs, relaxing back with his burger in hand and grinning at you. "I mean, we do have better burgers at the Shake Shack."

You groan, collapsing back on the couch and staring defeatedly at the bright TV screen. "I miss California."

"Jungkook went through the same thing," Seokjin assures you. You slowly turn your head to look at him. "I helped him assimilate to NYC life. And now look at him! He's so good at acting like a pure-blood New-Yorker that you even called him a 'sexy NYC man!' "

Oh, no. That particular memory sears through your head, leaving you flustered and quite frankly, frustrated.

"What?? How do you even—" you pause to glare at Jungkook who suddenly refuses to look your way. "I can't believe you told him, Jungkook!"

"We're roommates. We tell each other everything," Seokjin proudly says.

"Oh, god," you mutter under your breath.

"Seok's right, though," Jungkook pipes up. "He's the man to go to when you want to get into the NYC spirit! The dude was born and raised here. He knows everything you need to know about New York. Hang out with him a few times and you'll surely have to drop your SoCal girl status."

You huff. "But like I love being a SoCal girl!"

"We'll see how fast that can change," Seokjin grins.

This isn't a date... is it?

Seokjin had offered to take you out to wander about New York and guide you around to sight-see. He'd told you to dress casually, but how casual is New York casual?? You end up wearing a wine-red sleeveless romper and some cute gladiator sandals, which would honestly make you feel underdressed if you walked anywhere around LA like this.

But one step out into the cold night air, your teeth begin to chatter aggressively. Seokjin's already waiting for you outside of your dorm building and he laughs out loud when he sees you shivering violently.

"You sound like a woodpecker," he snorts. "You look cute, by the way."

"T-T-Thanks," you stutter. "Holy shit, Seokjin, how are you in a T-shirt and shorts right now? It's so motherfucking cold, goddammit!"

Jin throws his head to laugh—almost as if you told the funniest joke in the world. Which, you did not. "It's only 70 degrees, Y/N!"

"It is not!" you argue. "Shiver me fucking timbers, it has to be at least thirty degrees. Where's the snow??"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have worn a sleeveless romper then," Seokjin teases you. "Do you want to go back inside and change?"

"No!" you say. "It's called fashion. Back in California I could wear whatever the fuck I wanted. Like, do you understand that my wardrobe's being limited here??"

Seokjin shrugs, nudging you playfully as he gestures toward the night sky. The brisk air nips at your bare arms and tickles your nose, making you huddle closer to the man next to you. He merely smiles at your action and wraps a warm arm around you. "Welcome to New York, Y/N."

School keeps you busy for a good few months. Meeting up with Jungkook to rant about New York's rat problem and nasty subways while drooling over California's great wonders has become a rarity especially when you're trying hard to maintain your straight-A streak (literally since the day you were born). You haven't even touched Tinder on your phone for a good three months! (And that has nothing to do with the fact that you kinda might have a crush on Kim Seokjin.)

You've been texting him a few times a week (though you've never really gotten to meet up after your first, uh, "date." But the flirty texts he sends you and the promise of meeting up after all of your major exams makes you work twice as hard on your schoolwork. Jin also incessantly teases you about your strange Californian dialect, but you don't mind—especially when you can bag him for replacing every 't' sound with a 'd,' thanks to his New York accent. (He keeps pronouncing 'the' like 'da' and you have to admit, it's a little endearing.)

By the time Thanksgiving Break rolls around, you're deep in the process of organizing your lecture notes so you don't let yourself go out for a whole week.

And when Winter Break rushes in, you and Jungkook take off to California to reunite with family, leaving Seokjin to drown alone in the New York festivity while you and Kook enjoy a hot winter (literally). But the two of you make sure to come back to New York during New Year's to celebrate the iconic ball drop.

"I don't have to watch it on TV anymore!" you had said triumphantly.

When the countdown had signaled a New Year, you weren't lip-locking with either of your friends (but you didn't really mind). Instead, Seokjin had popped a bottle of apple cider (because you and Jungkook couldn't legally drink yet). Jin sipped his own champagne as he watched his younger friends get sugar drunk on apple cider.

All too soon, Winter Break is over. And now's the start of a new semester at NYU, but you already know your classes and professors so you finally let yourself relax. (Jungkook always tells you it's crazy how strongly you radiate work-hard and play-hard energy.)

Yet no matter how long you spend in New York, you just can't get used to it. It must be because you've mostly been stuck inside studying.

The moment you meet up with Jin again, you're brought into the world of New York once more.

"I missed your accent!" you yell as you nearly bulldoze over Seokjin to hug him when he opens the door to his apartment for you.

"Wow. You didn't miss me?" he jokes as he embraces you, tugging you into his apartment and closing the door behind you. "I thought you'd be happier to see me and not hear my insanely hot accent."

"Keep talking, please," you giggle, burying your face against his chest.

"You have no shame, Y/N," Seokjin sighs, but he lets you cling onto him as he waddles backward and towards the small living space with the TV set in it. "JK's out on Tinder date so the apartment is for us," he tells you as he practically throws you on the couch. "What do you wanna do?"

You huff, straightening up your clothes and glaring at Jin for tossing you. "I appreciate it. Like I'm totally not a fragile package," you mutter sarcastically. "I don't know. I guess we can, like, do anything. Are you in the mood of staying in..? Or, like, do you wanna go out?"

"Hmmm," Seokjin pretends to think. He collapses on the couch next to you, staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful look on his face. "How about we go out?" he says. "You've been cramped up in your dorm room for so long, I think you need fresh air."

"It's like you can read my fucking mind," you grin. "Where to?"

"We're going to get some New York-style pies!"

"Oh, shit," you say. "I love pies."

Apple pie, blueberry pie, key lime pie... Fuck, I'm practically salivating already.

Seokjin winks at you, hoisting you up on your feet and marching toward the apartment door. "Pies, here we come!"

"I fucking thought we were getting pies, Seokjin. Like, dude. This is a pizza parlor," you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Oh, Y/N," Seokjin laughs, ruffling your hair with affection, but when you glare daggers into him, he stops with a nervous chuckle. "Well, we New Yorkers call whole pizzas, pies. It makes more sense that way."

You nearly rip out your hair. "How does that make sense? Pizza and pie are two completely different things! What do you call your pies then??"

"We call them pies!"

"Huh??"

"Whatever," Seokjin snorts. "You need to get used to all of this New Yorker dialect and slang," he says, nudging you. "What do you want on your pizza pie? I'm getting a whole one so JK can have the leftovers."

"Um, I usually get cheese, mushrooms, goat cheese and oregano," you say. "But, like, I'll take anything except pineapples. Pineapples on pizza is a fucking sin."

Jin gasps loudly, putting a hand on his heart. "I always put pineapples on my pies!"

"Oh no. Don't tell me you're one of those people," you groan. "Come on, Jin, I thought you knew better! Like I swear, it's a New Yorker thing—"

"Don't you try to put the blame on New York!" Jin says. "Besides, JK likes pineapples on his pizza pies too, so maybe you're the weird one."

"God, not Kook too."

"Well, we'll get half with pineapples and half without," Seokjin compromises. "How does that sound?"

"Abominable," you mutter under your breath. If there are pineapples anywhere on the pizza, every slice will still have that disgusting tangy taste to it.

"Sorry?"

"I-I mean, that sounds great!" you feign an over-enthused look on your face as you pump your fist in the air. "But you're paying."

Seokjin rolls his eyes but agrees.

And the rest of the time spent goes rather smoothly. The two of you poke fun at each other as usual, and you only mildly get offended when Seokjin pulls the:

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Mm?" you say with your mouth stuffed with pizza (you never thought New York-style pizza could beat the Californian-style but here you are).

"I need to ask you one more thing before we wrap up and I walk you to your dorm," he says, handing you a napkin when you finally swallow your food.

"Thanks," you say. "Ask away."

"I've always wondered," Seokjin says as he leans forward, resting his chin on his upright hand, "why do you excessively say the word, 'like?' "

You let out an unflattering yelp, almost choking on your own spit. Quickly, you take a sip of your ice-cold water to ease the scratchiness of your throat. "Like, what do you mean?" you manage to choke out after an embarrassingly awkward pause.

"I mean, I'm just curious why you say 'like' every five seconds," Jin says, cocking his head. "Is it a SoCal thing? Or a Y/N thing?"

"It is not a Y/N thing! Like a lot of other girls do this, I swear. And it's not like I wanna say it," you huff. "I guess it's like this kind of habit that I, like, can't really get rid of. I dunno. I've heard it was a SoCal thing, but like I'm not too sure."

"Five," Seokjin says.

"What?"

"You said 'like' five times in approximately fifteen seconds," Jin says. "That's about one 'like' every three seconds. That's quite a lot. And I take back my previous hypothesis in which I said you said 'like' every five seconds. I guess it was three."

"I literally hate you!" you scoff. "When did you get all mathematician with me?"

"Since I applied to NYU as a compsci major," Seokjin answers, "which was about three years ago."

You huff. "Whatever I'm gonna major in, I hope it's not related to math."

"Come to think of it," Jin hums, "I never got to know your major." He brushes the pizza crumbs off from his hands and stands up to toss the used napkins away in a nearby trash can.

You stand up as well, taking up the pizza box as Seokjin guides you out of the pizza parlor. "I'm undecided," you tell him. "Like I really don't know what I want to do."

"Well, you're an undergrad, so you'll find something you'll like soon," Jin assures you. "You've got time."

"Thanks," you smile. "Honestly, you're the GOAT."

"Excuse me, I'm a what?" Seokjin looks mildly offended.

"The GOAT?" you say. "You're not even in your thirties yet, keep up!"

"A goat??" Jin bellows. "A fucking barn animal??"

You want to facepalm but your hands are occupied with the pizza box. "The Greatest Of All Time???" When Seokjin still looks puzzled, you shake your head, "Might wanna check out Twitter now and then, old man."

"Maybe that's a California thing!" Jin protests. "It's totally a California thing. I mean, look, Y/N, New Yorkers aren't that crazy to go around calling people barn animals."

"New Yorkers are definitely crazier than Californians," you say. "Oh, and we have to cross the street soon, my dorm's close."

"No way in hell we're crazier than you," Seokjin snorts. "C'mon we can cross the street here."

The here that Seokjin's refers to is a street full of cars and no pedestrian crossing. "Are you really suggesting that we jaywalk?" you say incredulously. "This just proves my point further!"

"What?? Jaywalking is normal," he argues. "Plus, it saves time. We New Yorkers are busy!"

"Puh-lease," you say. "You won't be so busy when you're dead," you point out. "There was this girl who went to my high school, right? And like one day we all heard that she died after some stupid car hit her when she was jaywalking. Dude, her boyfriend's still mourning her death. I think his name was Taehyun. Or Daehyung. Or Taehyung? I don't remember. But my point is," you pause dramatically, "that I don't want to die so we should not jaywalk."

"Californians are way too laid back," Seokjin sighs. "Fine!" He throws his hands into the air. "We'll find a crosswalk, then. I'll spare your life."

You giggle, nudging him to the side. "Thank you. Chivalry is not dead."

"Shivering is definitely not dead either," Jin jokes. "It's only sixty degrees, Y/N. And you're wearing a whole coat! Do you really need me to give you my jacket?"

"Oh shut up," you say, hugging the warm pizza box closer to your chest. "New York at night is freezing. Like I still haven't gotten used to it. And no, I don't need your jacket," you scoff, upturning your nose away from Jin.

"Fine, but if you become a frozen popsicle, I'm selling you off to a museum."

"Wow," you deadpan. "I rescind what I said earlier. You are not the GOAT. You are the WOAT."

"I don't have to be a genius to understand what that acronym is," Jin snorts. "And I am not the worst of all time. That's Jungkook. You know, he brought in his Tinder date again yesterday and they've been really, really loud in the bedroom. I can't fucking sleep."

"Oh, poor Jinnie," you coo. "What are you gonna do?"

"I just blasted the Baby Shark song yesterday on my speaker and they stopped on their own," he shrugs. "It's an instant turn-off, apparently."

"That's evil!" you cry. "But so genius."

"I know, I know," Jin laughs. "Any more song suggestions to prevent Jungkook from banging at the craziest hours of the night?"

"Hm..." you say. "What about the Winx Club theme song? Or the Pokémon theme song? Or, oh my god, like what about the Sofia the First theme song???"

"What the fuck are the Winx Club and Sofia the First?" Jin says.

"No way," you say, shivering slightly when a gust of wind decides to torment you and your hair. Pulling the strands of your hair from your mouth, you yell, "You're missing out! I grew up with the Winx Club! And I only watched Sofia the First because my younger sister liked it so much."

"You have a younger sister?" Seokjin asks. "Well, figures. I'm an only child so the only things I watched as a kid were Transformers and the Avengers." He snorts. "Maybe a little bit of Pokémon."

"Dude, I could name all 151 Pokémon from Generation I," you say. "I was obsessed."

"Oh yeah? I can name all 807!" Seokjin declares. "Every one of them from Generation I to VII."

"God, you have me beat," you giggle, shrugging your shoulders. “I thought you watched only a little bit of Pokémon!”

“Maybe I just have a fantastic memory,” Seokjin teases.

You roll your eyes, though you’re grinning uncontrollably. Sighing, you turn to a stop in front of your dorm building, holding out the pizza box for Jin to take. "Oh, wow, what do you know? We're already here."

"That went by quickly," Jin laughs, taking the pizza box. "Time always flies quickly with you."

You don't know if he really meant the last part, but you blush an embarrassing color of fire-engine red of which you hope he can't see because of the darkness.

"I agree," you admit. "I had fun. And thanks for the pizza. New York-style reigns over what I'm used to back in California."

"No problem," Seokjin grins fondly at you. "Guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," you smile. "Just text me whenever Jungkook's being too loud on his sexscapades. I'll send some good turn-off music recommendations like right away!"

Seokjin laughs, nodding his head in agreement. "I can't wait."

I can't wait either.

Your crush on Seokjin literally amplifies by tenfolds every time you hang out with him, which is quite often these days.

One "date" with Jin had turned into two. Two turned into three. Then, five, then eight. Now you're seventeen "dates" in, you and Jin have yet to define your relationship with each other. But you suppose you don't mind.

It isn't very often that you're so emotionally attracted to someone. I mean, how long has it been since I liked someone before I had sex with them??

But your relationship with Seokjin is special, and you're willing to drag on these "dates" (at least you hope they're dates) if it means that you and he will eventually become a couple. Unless Seokjin's not attracted to you in that way.

But that's crazy. Who isn't attracted to you in that way?? Okay, maybe a lot of guys. But you've always had a sixth sense when it came to men! Usually, you crush on the same ones that like you back. So maybe something could really blossom out of your current relationship with Kim Seokjin.

Unless he friendzoned you the moment he heard you have sex with Jungkook.

You are in quite a dilemma.

Two weeks later, your dilemma has extended from your love life to your academic life. There is pressure from your parents and peers to choose a major—especially since you've already lasted one semester in college already.

You have to start studying for the final exams as well. And everything is driving you nuts.

You've always considered going to med school, but law school doesn't sound so bad either. You have to choose your majors according to what job you want to have in the future, but you don't know what you want to do at all! You're just really good at doing what you're given to do. So, honestly, if someone pulled a random major from a hat, you could probably take it and do something with it.

Hm. That idea doesn't sound that bad.

You end up FaceTiming Seokjin for guidance.

"Well, you look like you haven't gotten sleep," he comments when he sees your dark circles and frenzied hair.

"I need to choose a major," you tell him immediately. "Like, right now. In the next twenty minutes or I'm going to blow."

"Oh, shit. How can I help?"

"Okay, so I made this huge list of NYU's majors and like all you have to do is randomly scroll through the list and pick one!" you say. "Easy! Whatever you pick, I'll do it!"

Seokjin scrunches his face. "I don't think that's a good idea, Y/N. What if I pick something insane? Like bagpiping? Or mining?"

You roll your eyes. "I don't think NYU even has those majors. C'mon pick one, hurry up! I'll close my eyes. Tell me when you're done."

Seokjin looks at the long list of majors you had sent him, shaking his head at you in disbelief. He doesn't want you potentially ruining your future because he picked a shitty major for you. And you looked pretty serious about this idea too. As if the moment Seokjin chose a major, you'd pick it and run with it.

Jin's not going to jeopardize your future like that. He doesn't even have to look at the list to declare what he thinks would be best for you. (And besides, if you didn't like it, you could always change majors... And if you couldn't change majors, you can't really blame it on him because you made him choose randomly. So it would be your fault. So either way he's immune!)

"I landed on business management," Seokjin says. "You can open your eyes."

Your eyes are wide the moment you open them. "Management?" you gasp. For a second, Seokjin thinks you're going to throw a tantrum, but a huge grin erupts on your face. "Oh my god! Management! Why didn't I think of that before?? It's perfect! Thank you, Jin! Thank you so much! You're literally fucking magical."

Seokjin's almost taken aback by your positive response but he plays along with it rather coolly. "I am pretty fucking magical. You're welcome."

"You just reduced my stress levels by fifty percent," you say, sighing as you fall back on your bed. "I still have to study for all my final exams... Not very fun... You know, back in California, if I ever felt stressed out or something, I'd, like, drive to the beach for a fun day with friends."

Seokjin cracks a smile. "Yeah, well we have sewage water here in New York. You can swim in there if you miss the beach so much."

"Sounds appetizing," you deadpan. "One day, I'm going to take you to SoCal and show you the beaches."

"That honestly sounds great, Y/N," Jin says. "Never been to the beach before."

Your jaw drops open in shock. "No fucking way, Jin. No fucking way."

"Well, you never saw snow before until you came to New York," Jin points out.

"Yikes," you mutter. "Touché."

Seokjin smiles fondly at you before shaking out of his little reverie. "Hey, you have to study, right? I'll stop bothering you."

"Oh, please," you laugh. "You're not bothering me. I feel even better now. Not even a beach trip could elate me to this extent."

And it's true. Just talking to Seokjin for a few minutes dissipates all of your pent-up stress. And you have one less problem to worry about—you finally have an idea about what major you want to pursue! Seokjin is a walking miracle.

Maybe after your exams, you'll have to ask him out on an official date. If you don't chicken out, that is.

It is officially summer!

You've maintained your straight A's, have finally decided your major and even found a part-time job at a local thrift shop. Life is great.

It would've been better though if one, it wasn't so fucking cold during May and two if you were dating Seokjin.

Jungkook's been teasing you about how head-over-heels whipped you are for Jin, but you threaten to hack into JK's Tinder account and lock an unflattering photo of him on his profile picture whenever his teasing becomes extremely annoying. It's so strange that you've been stuck on one crush for nearly eight months now since usually, you have a new 'boy toy' every other week.

Seokjin is special.

So special that you literally gave up your hookups. And sex. You also deleted your Tinder account. You are serious about this man.

There's something about him that makes your insides twist in a funny way and your heart feel warm and fuzzy whenever he texts you. Have you mentioned how attentive to your needs he is? The man's a genius gift-giver! On your birthday (April 4th), he bought you an embroidered double-sided jacket that not only made a bold fashion statement but also kept you warm in the abominable New York weather.

God, you might even love this man.

You should confess to him soon before some other girl snatches him. But it seems as if Seokjin has stopped going on dates, and the only girl he actively hangs out with is you. (You had to ask Jungkook to figure that out.)

So maybe you have a chance.

And today is the day to act upon it.

Seokjin promised to take you out on a walk around Central Park after you finished your shift at the thrift shop. He's eagerly waiting with a warm cup of hot chocolate for you by the time you're finished.

"Hey!" you say, beaming. "Thanks for the drink."

"No problem," Seokjin answers, winking at you before sipping his own ice coffee. "Central Park's about forty minutes away from here. Are you up for the walk?"

"I walked around a lot in California so maybe I should ask you if you're up for the walk," you smile, strutting out of the shop with Jin quickly at your heels.

"Where's there to walk in California??" he asks when he catches up to you.

"Oh my god, Jin. You're forgetting about all the cool shit in LA!" you say. "I walked to Urth Cafe like every day after school with my friends. And then like we'd have these photoshoots on Melrose Avenue... Man, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I went to UCLA."

"You got accepted into UCLA??"

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "I'm kind of glad I didn't go, though." You would’ve never met Seokjin.

"Oh?" Seokjin laughs. "Are you finally getting accustomed to New York, then?"

"No way," you say, shaking your head fervidly. "Dude, do you not see the jacket I'm wearing right now? It's freezing! And you're wearing a short-sleeve shirt!"

"It's the jacket I bought you!" Jin exclaims, smiling. "Well, the weather here's something you gotta get used to. By the time you graduate, though, you'll be fine."

"I hope so," you say. "I really, really hope so."

"But I mean, other than the weather situation, I feel like New York is your home now," Jin says. "You like the people here, at least, right?" He bats his eyelashes flirtatiously and you roll your eyes, though the butterflies in your stomach wake up from their slumber. "How have your Tinder dates been?"

"Oh, uh..." You awkwardly scratch your head. "I deleted my account."

Seokjin laughs out loud. "Oh no! Were the New York guys not cutting it??"

You flush, biting your lip and twiddling with your fingers. He kinda put you on the spot, here. Maybe you should come clean now...? You originally planned to confess at Central Park, but maybe it’s smarter to confess earlier. (That way, if he feels the same you two can have your official first date at Central Park. And if he doesn't feel the same way, the two of you can go home before visiting Central Park to avoid awkwardness. It's a master plan!)

"Well, I wouldn't know," you shrug coolly. "The only New York guy I had sex with turned out to be a Californian dude in disguise," you giggle. "And... I just didn't find the need to get with other guys."

"Oh?" Seokjin smiles amusedly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like, I don't know," you sigh. Your head is jumbled with words you've recited and also the words that you just thought of to string together. Your chest feels heavy and your stomach twists in knots but you force yourself to follow through. With a deep breath you let it all out: "I guess like I've had a teensy weensy crush on you since like the moment we met," you start slowly, carefully. "And I'd uh, I'd like to officially date you, if you, like, feel the same way as me..." you trail off, looking at Seokjin to figure out if his initial reaction would give away his true feelings toward you.

But to your utmost relief, he grins. That's a good sign—it has to be!

"Y/N..." he smiles. "Five. Again! In twenty seconds this time! One 'like' in every four seconds. You're slowly getting rid of your SoCal dialect, look at that!"

When Seokjin sees the unamused look on your face, he throws his head back and laughs. "I was just teasing you, love," he says. "You know, I deleted Bumble the day I met you in person?"

"Really?" you squeal, turning to Jin with such high velocity that you almost spill your hot chocolate. Your insides melt, and your head repeatedly echoes the way he had called you 'love.' You feel faint.

"Yeah," Jin says. "So we're official, aren't we?"

"Hell yes!" you say.

"Our first date is at Central Park," Jin laughs. "This was the best timing ever. It's even in the summer. You know, when everyone scrambles to find love. We don't have to look anymore!"

You snort, linking your arms together and leaning onto Seokjin—who just now became your boyfriend. "I still can't fucking believe it's summer," you sigh, shaking your head. "Like dude, it's so fucking cold that I'm drinking hot chocolate!"

"Oh!" Seokjin exclaims. "Right! The hot chocolate?"

"What?"

"Open the lid, please," he grins. "A pleasant surprise will be waiting for you."

Carefully, you do as he says, only to find the white cream on the hot chocolate to be shaped into a sort-of mangled heart. You gasp, staring at the heart in utter shock. "Were you going to ask me out today??"

"You beat me to it," Jin laughs. "Saved me the trouble, love."

The butterflies in your stomach flutter about every time he calls you that (which was only two times so far, but still).

"We're really meant to be, then," you giggle.

"Like, we really are."

Seokjin taught you many things. How to be a good New Yorker without even being a native. How to hail a taxi gracefully. How to get a seat on the Subway. How to order the best pizza pie ever. And most of all, he taught you commitment.

Never have you been this committed to a man in all your life. That being said, you've only lived for nineteen years. But then again, it's hard to change your habits of being finicky with guys in your high school years. Yet they're changed now.

You've said goodbye to Tinder, to hookups, to meaningless sex. You've said hello to your boyfriend, to continue your pursuit of business management, to navigate around New York.

July becomes your favorite month quite easily when you realize it is possible for New York to have hot weather too. You bring out your short skirts and tank tops and have a fashion show every day choosing which outfits to wear. (Seokjin becomes your personal outfit-picker against his will.)

You have to say, New York isn't so bad. You haven't really missed California at all for a while.

"You know," you tell your boyfriend as he braids your hair for you so you can complete your outfit of the day with a stylish, “effortless” side braid.

"Hm?" Jin answers, his tongue peeking out of his lips from hard concentration.

"I think I'm getting used to this place," you say, turning around to smile at your boyfriend.

Seokjin laughs, tying your braid in place before leaning in to kiss your lips. "Finally!" he says between small pecks. "It took you awhile."

"Oh, come on. It didn't take me that long. It hasn't even been a year yet!" you protest. "I love New York. Honestly!"

Your boyfriend smiles. "When do you think you'll start to talk in a New York accent?"

"Never!" you say. "I'm keeping my 'likes' and 'dudes,' thank you! I have to keep some part of my Californian self."

"Oh, trust me," Seokjin snorts. "You will never lose the fashion-crazed part of you. Please don't make me fly on a plane to go to Coachella."

"Damn, you know me too well," you huff. "Fine. No Coachella. But I want to take you down Hollywood one day. Or at least Urth Cafe. No, holy shit, I need to take you to the beach! Or In-N-Out! There are so many places to go in LA! I'll be the best tour guide ever, Jin!"

"Aw, love," Seokjin says, nuzzling your nose against his. "I can't wait for my tour in the Golden State with my native Californian girlfriend."

"I can't wait either!" you giggle, kissing his lips while placing your hands against his soft cheeks. "I had the wonderful experience of getting my own, personal native New Yorker tour guide, so it's only fair I let you on a tour around my home state too!"

"We'll go during winter break, how's that?" Seokjin says. "We can celebrate Christmas in California."

You grin. "It'll be a tropical Christmas. You up for that?"

"I'm down!" Seokjin says. "I've never lived through a hot winter before. I'll have to see all the rave about California myself."

You wink at him. "You'll love it. Like, really, really love it."

"If I don't, you have to try pineapple pizza pie," Seokjin says. "Bet."

"Oh, you're on!"

All too soon, summer is over and the fall season creeps upon you and the rest of New York City. The freezin' season is back and ready to haunt you and turn your mornings into motherfucking abominations.

Except, it's not as cold as you last remember it. Maybe this year's winter in New York will be warmer for whatever reason. Or maybe it's because Seokjin always does a great job of keeping you warm when it's cold. (You definitely think the latter is the true answer.)

Because with Seokjin, even waking up on Mondays at 8 in the cold fucking morning isn't so abominable after all.

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