#call me justin bieber the way i worked hard to please you

[dewarism]

here it is! welcome to connor dewar 101 the other slides are under the cut!

you may have to zoom in to read them! i was doing my best with the space i had!

his family lives in winnipeg now but he still visits the pas in the summer! in his becoming wild (which you can find on youtube), he talks about his love for clearwater lake which is located northeast of the pas!

also in his playing career, he has made it to the playoffs with the wild twice, and has worn jersey numbers #52 and #26, and reportedly will wear #24 with the leafs.

there is definitely more statistical info about him that i don't have on here that you can find if that type of stuff interests you! he is labelled as a defensive forward, occupying the center position, and usually plays on the bottom six. he was also on the penalty kill for the wild and typically had defensive zone starts.

to get a better feel for his personality than what i can give you here, i recommend watching his becoming wild video and also his podcast episode on wild on 7th (both can be found on youtube, and the audio version of the podcast can be found wherever you listen to your podcasts). feel free to skip through until the part where he comes in but it's a good video where a lot of this stuff was learned!

connor dewar, you were a mn wild staple and i hope that playing for the leafs treats you as good as it can! leafs fans, i hope this was a satisfactory source of connor dewar lore and that you will cherish him like we have! 🩷

#calling all current and future connor dewar lovers! #i hope this provides you will all the info you may need #i know there are other info sources and primers out there so i suggest you seek those out as well #connor dewar #minnesota wild #toronto maple leafs #call me justin bieber the way i worked hard to please you

[milky-aeons]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

౨ৎ . . . the way in which CHUUYA NAKAHARA apologises after saying some things he did not mean.

warnings: swearing, arguments, hurt/comfort, female reader, jealousy, verbal fighting, glass smashing, emotional dysregulation, vulgarity, alcohol intake, pet-names, w.c 1.9k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ stay — the kid LAORI, justin bieber ꒱ ˎˊ-

You slammed the door with enough force to rattle it against its hinges.

That didn't stop Chuuya Nakahara from tearing it back open again.

He stormed into your shared hotel room after you. "Just what the hell is your problem, hah?!"

Fury was a blazing inferno in your eyes when you spun around to face him and all of his gall.

"My problem? My fucking problem!" You hissed, throwing your small clutch onto the bed. It bounced around until it hit the headboard, the small thump of it sounding like a warning shot. Quiet descended, tight, tenuous, stretching between the both of you until one of you decided to light the spark.

Your cheeks puffed out. You jabbed your finger at him. "How dare you blame me on all of this. You're the one that decided to act like an animal at a formal dinner and throw a champagne bottle at someone!"

Chuuya folded his arms, the lean muscles straining against his expensive blazer. "Not my fuckin' fault that the shithead couldn't stop ogling at ya. Like a lovesick puppy — he woulda started droolin' if I didn't do somethin' about it."

It hadn't been a detrimental business partner the organisation had just lost tribute to your General boyfriend and his temper — but they had been high enough in the drugs underworld that the Port Mafia would take a serious blow, because of it. The Boss was bound to not take this lightly. Although whatever punishment awaited you when you returned to headquarters was not the dominant thought that made your heart thrum an angry rhythm. It was not what called blood to your flushed cheeks, your arms to flail out in frustrated, furious movements.

"You can't just go for any man that wants to look at me, Chuuya!" You shouted, your arms stretched wide in an obvious gesture.

His eyes hardened. "Can't I?"

"No! That's irrational. You'll start fights with organisations worth more trouble than you need, all because you can't keep your damn temper under control!"

Too worked-up to stay in the same place, Chuuya had begun to move. Aimless, jittery pacing that circled around your hotel suite. He stalked over to the small table in the corner decorated with complimentary crystal glasses and a whiskey tumbler, and poured himself a healthy serving. His rock hard shoulders — so wound and tense — didn't even shift when he knocked the entire drink down in one swig.

He said nothing.

The silence was so pressing, so agitating. Like a thousand tiny pinpricks dancing down the planes of your skin. There was a quiet, rational little voice that cooed at you in the back of your mind; whispering that this wasn't worth it, that it would be better to let him calm down before you broached the subject like two adults in love. You were a level headed woman — that voice was usually your pillar of reason. So why was it that tonight, after the carnage that had ensued, you were itching for a fight rather than trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb this situation was turning into.

You didn't care.

You were on fire. You were livid.

You had to burn.

"Oh, so you're gonna ignore me now, huh?" The words were flying past your lips against conscious will. You noticed the way Chuuya's neck muscles jumped at the grating tremour in your voice. "You think that's how we should deal with it — just sweep it under the rug?"

A sound; akin to a growl, rumbled in his chest. "Just drop it, princess."

"No. No, I won't drop it. You can't parade me around like I'm yours to claim, Chuuya! I'm a person. I can speak to men if I so please, or do you want to shove me into a pretty cage, tell me to just blink and smile?"

"I said," Chuuya's tone rose. His temper was becoming hard to control, again. Fraying at the edges until it was uncertain where he stood. "To drop it, princess."

"Oh — and another fucking thing—!"

SMASH!

First, there was the sound. Then your startled brain, catching up, watching as the rain shower of glass shards smattered over the red carpet. You gasped, your eyes wide, darting them back to your lover who had just hurled his empty whiskey glass so forcefully against the wall it had exploded into pieces. He rounded on you, and you've never seen his eyes look so frightening. They burned a cold fire, morphing the beautiful planes of his face into something sharper, something more alien.

The man who stalked over to you with quick snapping strides was not your tender boyfriend who hugged you close to his chest at night and murmured into your hair. Now, he was a ruthless Mafia Executive, and he was furious.

"You're such a fuckin' blabbermouth, y'know that? Always lettin' it run, like you did with that guy at the dinner table. If your mouth is that loose then, baby doll, why don't you just let him fuck it, since you seem to like using it so damn much?"

His words were so unexpected, so cruel, that they twisted into harsh daggers and speared right for your heart. It was almost like you had been physically struck; the way you gasped, how you took a small step back at the force of it. Your lips parted and you drew in a shaky breath. Something must have given way on your face — because in a blink, the storm in Chuuya's eyes parted. He refocused. And when he did, his expression softened somewhat. The echoes of his words crackled around like the broken pieces of his whiskey glass.

Pressure began to build at the back of your eyes. You ducked your head so it hid underneath your styled bangs.

Chuuya bristled. He took a small step forward, his hand twitching out.

"Baby... [Name], I—"

You twisted out of his reach and stormed around him. Your heels pounding against the floor until you reached the bathroom, throwing yourself inside and shutting the door. Through the blood pumping in your ears, you thought you heard him call out to you, and then he was there; on the other side of the door that you leaned against. You knew he was there — always knew when your partner in crime was nearby, be it by the pattern of his breathing, the sound of his footsteps. You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the door, cursing when the tears brimmed over.

There was a loud thump on the other side of the wood. You couldn't see, but Chuuya had pitched forward to lean his head against the door.

"Baby, open the door. Please. That was fucked of me — I'm sorry."

The bottom of your lip wobbled — you sucked it between your teeth, trying to stifle the little sob that hiccupped in your throat. You wanted him to leave. You wanted him to tear the door down and fight to get to you. Your chest hurt so much; like there had been a hole ripped in the middle of it. His words played over and over again in your mind and stretched that hole all the more wider.

"Baby doll," Chuuya whispered, knocking softly. "Baby, please, please open the door."

You're such a fuckin' blabbermouth, y'know that?

"I'm sorry. [Name], you're right. I'm a shitshow when I can't control my temper. I'm a fuckin' mess in that department and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, princess. You don't fuckin' deserve that."

If your mouth is so loose then, baby doll, why don't ya just let him fuck it?

You shook your head from side to side. "No. No I don't." You sniffed. "Fuck you, Chuuya."

"Deserve that." He murmured.

"You're such an asshole, sometimes."

"Deserve that, too."

"Absolute pain in my ass."

"Now you're just being nice."

A broken little chuckle tried to rumble up your throat. Damn him, making you laugh when you were supposed to be seething at the teeth. You reached up to rub the streaks of tears from your cheeks with the back of your hands. You stole a quick glance in the bathroom mirror, and contemplated splashing some water on your face to tame the angry red puffiness. No. He needed to know how badly that had hurt you. Let him see you in this mess, let him feel the guilt.

You huffed and turned around, gripping the handle of the door and pulling it open.

He was centimetres away. His hat had been discarded; the wildfire tendrils of his curly hair stuck up in all directions; like he had been furiously raking his hand through it. Chuuya's eyes widened when you were suddenly in front of him again, and then they shuttered.

"Oh, baby," He choked out. Then, like it was instinctive, went to reach for you—

One of your hands came up in between you two, instructing him to stop in his tracks. You levelled your watery eyes on his, waiting. It didn't take long for him to get the memo.

His throat bobbed when he swallowed. "I'm sorry," He said, throwing every ounce of his energy into it. While your mafioso lover wasn't the best at regulating his emotions, you had a lot more respect for yourself than that, and were willing to wait.

Your eyebrows rose. "For?"

"Being an asshole."

"And?"

"Sayin' such a shitty thing to ya."

"And?"

Chuuya grumbled something indistinct under his breath. He flickered his eyes down and shifted his weight. He scowled. But not long passed before he spat out the words;

"For throwin' the bottle at that lovesick little asshole."

You let his words hang in the air, let them dissipate and wash against the hurt in your chest. Being with Chuuya Nakahara wasn't easy — but neither was love in any relationship. You had your fights, you had your nasty fights that brought out things none of you wanted to say, nor really meant. But it always ended like this; with either one of you seeking the other out, desperate to restore the balance, to take back everything you said.

It wasn't a good cycle. But it was one that you both worked on, day by day, piece by piece. And you promised it would be worth it. Every stubborn little inch of it.

The moment your shoulders collapsed with your sigh — Chuuya took it as his sign. He passed the threshold of the bathroom, eager to dispel the distance between you both. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. Your eyes slipped closed as the scent of him enveloped you; leather and smoke, with a hint of his expensive cologne he saved for events just like this.

His grip tightened. You felt the splay of his long fingers hidden in leather in the valley between your shoulders; exposed by the backless ballgown.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice so uncharacteristically small. Chuuya turned to bury into your neck and you let him, bringing your hand to rub soothingly against his head.

You turned into his chest and burrowed further. Listening to his erratic heartbeat, wondering if it belonged to him or the god of destruction sharing part with his body. But when you looked up at him; into those eyes that were all the shades of blue, all Chuuya Nakahara, you had your answer loud and clear.

They flickered over your face in that moment. He reached up, padding the damp skin underneath your eyes tenderly. "I'm—"

You didn't let him finish — instead, you raised up on the balls of your feet and connected your lips. A soft, heart breaking kiss, your hands coming to rest on either side of his face, his hand cradling the back of your head gingerly — like you were made of glass, and this time, he wouldn't break it. Wouldn't even dare.

The kiss reminded you why it was worth it — why this was worth it. Why there was nothing in this world that could make you give up on each other.

✎ . . . requested by lovely nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

#chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara fluff #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #🎋 — writing requests

[desswright29]

CLASS 58 (Co-Captain)

Pairing: CopShuri X Cop reader

Contains: Reader Crushing hard, hints at cheating (that’s about it)

You pull into the parking lot, in your all black 1967 Mustang, 5:30 am on the dot. The sky was still pitch black and there were only two other cars in the parking lot that you assumed belonged to the instructors. You turn off your car, get out and sit on the hood, taking a deep breath, staring into the sky. Early morning was your favorite. The still and quietness of the morning had always helped you start your day off right. Popping your airpods in, you lay back and stare into the sky waiting for the sun to rise.

 Your mind wondered as “Angel numbers/10 toes” poured into your ears. You could only hope that this was the new beginning you needed. This offer from the FBI came at the perfect time. Right in time to give you a new beginning after you and your wife of 5 years divorced. You had the need to get away. Especially, after she’d taken the son you’d adopted together. Going through this would give you an outlet during the nasty custody battle you found yourself in. You didn't want to take him from her, just for the two of you to be able to co-parent cordially. But, she was making it so unnecessarily difficult.

“Get the fuck out y/n!”

“Baby please. Listen to me please!” You sat on your knees infront Riri, begging to be heard.

“What am I listening to? I saw everything I needed to see!”

“I was lonely, Ri! You're not even affectionate with me anymore! We hardly see eachother. Don't act like you haven't checked out of this relationship!”

“And who’s fault is that? How dare you!? How dare you turn this shit around on me to cover your ass. At least I was trying! I never even entertained the thought of cheating!”

The look in her eyes broke you. The tears spilling out of her big pretty brown eyes, onto her beautiful face. Since you were teens you’d worked hard to keep those eyes sparkling, to make her smile so hard that the dimples in her cheeks would show up. Now she was broken by you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/n, just go.” She seemed exhausted with the conversation.

“What about Amari?” You say in tears. A look of disgust came over Riri’s face.

“You should have thought of that shit before you placed your face between another bitches legs. Right now I don't want you around me or my child. Get out.” She spoke softly, walking away as though it took all her strength to hold her body upright.

You huffed, rubbing a hand over your face. To stop the tears from escaping. You had to shake it off, push the memory back into its space on the back of your mind, and prepare yourself for the day. 

“Today you will have your first P.T. test! It’s purely to gauge where you are physically right now and will not affect your grade. But, if I were you I'd give it a hundred percent! I suggest you don't waste our time or yours. When I release you all, you’ll head from the training building over to the gym and prepare for the push up and sit up segment of your test.” Mr. Kaufman looked over the class as they stood at attention, stern, serious. Making sure he got his point across.

“FALL OUT!”

The class fell out of formation, grabbing the belongings they would need to head to the gym when a voice called out to you.

“Aye yo Y/l/n wait up!” Benson scuffled, catching up to you. “What’s up, boss lady. We get assigned to dorms today. You think we’ll be roommates?”

“Prayerfully, my luck isn't that bad.” You continue on your way trying to avoid conversation not in the mood, however she doesn't take the hint.

“Ahh man you do me so bad. You're gonna love me when this is all over.” The two of you walk inside of the gym and find a weight bench to sit on, waiting for instruction.

“You’re very confident. You should direct that towards someone who won’t ruin that for you.”

“Loosen up, pretty lady. You can't be stuck up the entire six months.” You shot daggers at her and she finally took her cue. Laughter erupted from the other side of the gym, and you peered over seeing Shuri and a group of the guys from the class entering the gym. Damnit was she fine! When she walked into a room everyone had to sit up and take note, and you had to admit it had you intrigued. The girl that everyone would soon find to be the class whore, lingered closely pretending to be interested in whatever was being talked about. Laughing and twirling one of her cornrows around her finger.

“You could look a lil less disgusted by the sight.” You look back over at Benson’s amused face.

“What are you talking about?” You say defensively.

“You look like you wanna snatch Auguste up by them thick ass cornrows for being all up on Udaku.”

“I dont give a fuck about that girl. I don't know her.”

“Yea. Well you look like you want to.”

“Whatever.” You stood to your feet, rolling your eyes, and walking away with Bensons chuckle trailing behind you.

Mr. Kaufman entered the gym instructing you all to place out the green mats assigning you all to your respective lines. You were all called up by three’s for the push-up portion of the test. The class captain being one of the first up. She walked up confidently placing herself in a push up position. Sgt. Sanders called start and you watched Shuri work. Biceps protruding from her short sleeve compression shirt, and veins popping from her forearms and neck. She moved so effortlessly, even with her weighted vest on. You found yourself in a slight trance. She must have felt your stare, because her eyes found yours, her bottom lip curling into her mouth as she pushed them out faster. Your mouth fell open slightly as your mind traveled to places it shouldn't, her eyes never left yours as she put on a show.

“TIME! Damn good job Udaku! You knocked that out of the park!” The sergeant called out. Snapping you back into reality. You finally let out the breath that you never realized you were holding. What kind of spell did that woman have you under?

“I’d pay money to be the mat underneath that woman.” Auguste said from behind you.

You swallowed to ignore the way your body had gotten hot under Shuri’s gaze. A smug smile sat on her lips as she walked past you.

“Good luck, battle.” (Military jargon to acknowledge other military personnel. short for “battle buddy”)

She knew who you were.

“Y/l/n, you're up!”

You sat on your knees on the mat looking ahead seeing Shuri standing in between the lines arms crossed, focused directly on you. You got in position and when start was called, you looked straight forward, avoiding Shuri’s eyes that burned a hole through you. You knocked out your two minutes effortlessly.

“TIME! Udaku’s got some competition! Great job y/l/n!” You found Shuri once again, as you stood to your feet. She stood in the same position she was in before. A small smile plastered on her face as she gave a slight nod in your direction, before walking over to her group of friends.

The rest of the test breezed by. You and Shuri taking the lead the entire day. She left you in the dust on the running portion. She was Olympic level fast. And you were impressed.

“Alright everyone! Settle down. Get to your seats! Great job today. We’re gonna go ahead and release you all so that you can get settled in the dorms. Good news. You all will be the first class to use the new dorms. So only two to a room. You’ll share a a kitchen and bathroom. The bedrooms are seperate.”

The class began to cheer.

“Dont get too excited you dont get to choose your roommate. The list is on the board in the hall. Check it out. Get settled, curfew is at 9 pm. That means toe to line for count at 8:59! Get out of here.”

The class stood to their feet, the chairs squeaking against the floors as they rushed into the hall to find out who they would be spending the next six months with. You stayed behind, pushing in chairs waiting for the crowd to clear out. You pulled out your phone turning it on, checking to see if there was any word from Riri. Once again nothing.

You shot her a quick message before placing your phone back into your pocket and walking out into the hallway. 

You were met with Bensons smiling face at the end of the hallway. 

“Whaddup roomie!” Her face lit up with a smile and her arms spread wide. Your eyes widened.

“No way!” You rushed over to the list, your finger roaming over the paper until you found your name; low and behold your name was listed below Bensons in room 306. 

Your head dropped as you let out a sigh. 

“Don’t act like you don’t love the idea of being alone with me 24/7” You let out a groan. 

“We’re gonna have to set some clear boundaries. Atleast I know what to expect from you.” Benson pumped her fist yelling. “This is gonna be a fucking blast!”

“No yelling in the halls!” Sgt. Sanders yelled from the office. 

“My bad sarg!” She yelled back. You shook your head and started walking out of the building.

“I’ll meet you at the dorm Benson.”

As you walked to your car, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, you felt someone quietly approaching, your guard went up and you turned quickly ready to strike when you came face to face with Udaku herself. Your hand went up to your chest as you let out a breath. 

“Shit!”

“I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you. Wasn’t trying to sneak up, I'm just naturally stealthy…..Like a cat.” She stood in front of you, her smirk showing just a sliver of her perfect teeth, today her hair was braided back, and she had changed into a simple black sweat suit, she made it look like she’d just stepped out of vogue, and It made your body visibly tremble.

She noticed your reaction as her gaze traveled over your body, “Cold?”

“Uh yea. It is pretty chilly.” You say once again avoiding her eyes. 

“Yes it is.” She stuck her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Y/l/n right? I noticed you didn't come get my information after class yesterday.”

“I think I'm capable of listening and getting the same information you receive. I won’t be needing it.” You say, and she smirks.

“The other Army recruit, huh?”

“How’d you know?”

“Kind of my job, and I can tell you’re very strong willed, competitive, and prepared.”

“Competitive?” One of your brows shot up, your arms crossing in defense. 

“Yes, I saw your attempt at beating my scores, and though I admire your resolve, you can’t beat me.”  A smirk spread across your face. 

“Is that so?” She nodded very sure of herself.

“It is very much so.”

“Riiiiight Captain. We’ll see.” You say with a salute. She gave a chuckle, the soft sound made your ears perk up, you could listen to that forever, my God was everything about this woman attractive!

“But since you can’t beat me. I was thinking you would consider joining me.” You cocked your head to the side waiting for her to continue.

“You see I need a Co-Captain. And turns out I get to choose. I’ve watched you and think you would be the perfect partner.”

“Oh do you?”

“I haven’t seen anyone more qualified than you.”

“Co-Captain?” She placed prayer hands in front of her, before putting on her best pleading face.

“Pretty pretty pleeeease?” Those intense eyes focusing on your own, paired with her sexy accent had you looking away quickly trying to avoid the blush from rising on your cheeks. 

“Your one hell of a negotiator. Where’d

 you learn?”

“I’d say it was my military training, but that one in particular seems to work best outside of work.” This time you couldn’t escape the blush.

“I’ll do it.”

“Yes!” She said pumping her fist just like Benson had earlier. She held out her hand and you firmly grasp it; The two of you shook on it. “I look forward to doing business with you.”

“Same.” The handshake lingered a bit before the two of you let go.

“That yours?” She said her head nodding towards your car. Your face lit up. Not going unnoticed by Shuri.

“ ‘67 Reborn. My dad passed it down to me. His dad passed it down to him. She’s my baby.”Shuri nodded her head, cocking it to the side, her smile getting bigger.

“Cute.” She said, Your head snapped towards her. “The car. She’s beautiful.” Her gaze lingered on you, and the two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. In reality it was only a few seconds. She turned towards the building, throwing a “See you at the dorms partner,” over her shoulder before walking away.

You stared as she swaggered her way into the building. Leaving you with her clean scent lingering and your heart racing.

This was going to be a long 6 months.

Once inside your car you check your phone again. Heading straight to you and Riri’s text thread. The only thing ther was the several read text messages you’d sent over the past few weeks. Including the one you’d just sent.

Ri, I’m sorry. Just let me see him

Shuri watched from the window inside of the training building, as you hit the steering wheel in frustration. You sat back staring at the sky for awhile before you finally placed your key in the ignition and headed towards the dorms.

#Spotify #letitiawright #shuri udaku #shuri fanfiction #shuri imagine #shuri fic #shuri angst #shuri x reader #shuri x you

[lukeevangelista]

"Y/N L/N, welcome." Alex propped her leg up on the couch, wrapping her arm around her knee.

You brought the microphone to your mouth, "Thank you so much for having me! It's an honor to be here."

"No way! It's an absolute honor to have you here," She laughed, "There are a handful of points on this podcast where I feel like I'm actually doing something good, and literally the minute we had decided on a day to sit down, it feels like I've made it. I'm so excited to have you here! For those of you that do not know the absolute stunning human being sitting across from me, this is Y/N L/N, who has been taking the country music world by storm over the last couple of months. Today, we'll be talking about their new album, life in the spotlight, living like a rockstar, I'm sure, and some famous members of their entourage."

"This is a dream, Alex, thank you so much for having me. I have watched every episode of this podcast the day they have come out, I'm such a huge fan of your work and what you do, it's an absolute honor and a pleasure to be here. I cannot wait to talk so much shit with you."

Alex lets out a hearty chuckle across from you, "I feel like we have so much to talk about, first off, the new album," you nodded, "tell us about it."

"This album is my actual child, it's the first real album of my career and I feel like I worked so hard on it and I had so much help along the way and have met so many incredible people in the mean time. The album is called '365' and kinda commemorates what a year in my life used to look like. Obviously, it looks a little different now, but I wanted to keep the general basis of this album very raw and real. It draws a lot of inspiration from my childhood and has a little bit of a country twang that was largely popular around the 90s and 2000s of country music. I was very lucky to have some big names and some of my favorite people working on this album. Michael Hardy and both members of Brooks and Dunn helped me with this album and I got a lot of really good advice from people like Luke Combs, Lainey Wilson, Jordan Davis, Morgan Wallen, and Cody Johnson. I spent half of the album just learning and observing from people that I really look up to and I really appreciate their work and what they're coming out with. So, I'm really proud with how this album turned out, I definately think y'all should listen to it if you can," you turned to make eye contact with the nearest camera for the last sentence of your spiel.

Alex smiled, "So you're two CMA awards and a Grammy down, what's new, where do you go from here?"

"Oh god, tour hopefully. There's some stuff in the plans to hopefully do something before I'm due back in Michigan this summer." There was a grin on your face, knowing Alex Cooper had been dying to bring it up. Alex gasped, moving in her seat to sit with her legs crossed underneath her.

"I'm actually so glad you brought this up. I know we were talking about it and you said how you were kinda sick of talking about the album."

You let out a loud laugh, "Oh 100%. As much as I love this album and as proud of it I am, I do nothing but talk about it all week, and I've been doing that for a few months now, even before the record came out. I love it to death, but I'm actually kind of excited to talk about anything but."

"Speaking of Michigan, I really wanna talk about that."

"Oh please do."

"So you're obviously a big hockey fan," you nodded along, "and you've become very known in the hockey world as a fan. You've somehow fit yourself into the social circle of some very popular people."

"Yeah, I frequent hockey games quite often, and I've become of a next-gen-Justin-Bieber of sorts. I'm known kind of in whispers around the league, from what I'm being told, as a person to always look out for at games because I'm always at one. I love the game and I love the atmosphere."

"So we're all very aware that you're quite familiar with the so-called Hockey Royalty. Can we get into the nitty-griddy this early?"

"Absolutely! Yeah, as you said, and if the people watching don't know, I'm really close friends with the Hughes family and it actually started because they're fans of me."

"Oh no way! I didn't know that!"

"Yeah, so Jack is a massive country music fan, and I was doing a gig in Detriot, Michigan last summer during a little tour thing I was doing for a pre-album promotional thing. I didn't realize it until the last 4 or 5 songs that they were sitting front row with a good mob of their friends and family. It was really nice having them there, even if I didn't realize it until the end. So they were posting about being at the concert on their stories after they left, and they were all tagging me and stuff, so I saw, like, 8 or 9 guys that were at the game and I knew all of their names because I watch them play all the time. So I slide up on Jack's story, I think, his or Quinn's, saying like 'hey I'm so sorry, If I had any idea you guys were coming I would have invited you backstage after the show and we could have hung out!' I felt so bad that I didn't know they were there. And he responded and told me that they were at the lake house for the whole summer and if I wanted to come up for a week or so I was more than welcome to. They had room for me, it wasn't like I was going to be sharing a room with one of the boys or anything, and luckily it was the last stop on tour, so I had no where else to be. Jack was like, 'just bring a week's worth of clothes and something to swim in' and I told Jack, like, 'I don't have a car to drive out, like, I'm living on a tour bus, I don't have a way to get there.' So, I guess that when they had come down, they brought more than one car, so Jack offered to pick me up at the hotel and drive me back up to the lake house with them to spend the week."

"No way! and you went?"

"Hell yeah, I did. It's not every day you get invited to an event as exclusive and famous as the Hughes' Lake House! And even after I brought up how I was getting back to the airport the week later, he just went 'we will drive you back, you don't have to worry about a thing.' So I packed a bag and worked something out with my manager and I was hugging Quinn and Jack Hughes 45 minutes later."

"Who was more excited for you to go?"

"Oh, me, 1000%. I was so excited to go. I guess everyone else in the group had shipped out almost immediately after the show, so they were already there and playing video games when we walked through the door. Like, I know I'm well known, but I felt fucking famous walking through that door," Alex laughed, "I didn't even get to drop my bag before Jim, their dad, was offering to take my bags and yelling at one of the boys to show me where I'm sleeping, and how they had washed the sheets and EVERYTHING. Ellen, their mom, yelled at him like, 'the poor girl just walked through the door, at least let her take a breath!' and I told her it was fine, that this sort of stuff happens all the time, and Jack showed me to the room that they had reserved for me and let me unpack my bags and get situated and told me that they were thinking about doing some sort of midnight barbeque or something and might take the boat out that night but I didn't need to go if I just wanted to chill. I thanked him perfusely and told him I just really wanted a breather and how I needed to answer a few emails and stuff. He told me I could work at the kitchen island, too, if I didn't wanna feel left out. So I set up all of my chargers and unpacked and whatever and answered a few emails and comments and liked a few instagram stories at the kitchen island and talked with their parents and met some of the other guys. I never felt like I was more or less than them at any point the whole week. The whole group is so nice and never left me out of absolutely anything."

"And you went back, didn't you?"

"I did! I went the last 2.5 weeks of the summer, before they all shipped off to their respective corners of the continent. It wasn't my idea either, Quinn came up to me and was like, 'hey, the last couple weeks before we all head back to our cities is just gonna be the the three of us and KJ and Blanks if you wanna come back and hang, it'll be a lot less hectic.' So, I did. It was just the 6 of us for about half a month."

"They sound like so much fun," she turns towards the camera, "if it feels like I'm doing significantly less talking than normal, it's because I think Y/N has a really pretty voice and I just like listening to her talk."

"Stop it, you're so sweet-"

"No, it's true!" she turned back to you, "I love listening to you talk."

"I really appreciate it, is there any other nitty-gritty tell-all detail of the Hughes Boys and Friends? I have not slept with any of them, before you ask."

Alex laughed, "That's such a shame, I feel like that would make a good headline, 'Country Singer Y/N L/N Rates The Dick Down of The Entire NHL out of 10: Here's What You Need to Know!' Since we can't talk about the sex, may I ask you which one would make the best boyfriend? I'm assuming there's at least one that you feel like would be an exceptional boyfriend."

"Oh god, I think each of them each of qualities and personalities that would make them more than qualified," Alex raised an eyebrow at you, "would you like me to go through all of them?"

"Uh, yes please!"

You smiled, "Oh god where do I start. Luke Hughes, the baby of the group. Luke is very spontaneous, if anyone is going to wake up at 3am, say 'I wanna go wakeboarding' and do it, it would be Luke Hughes. He does stuff because he wants to and does not think about it, he's doing it for the plot and absolutely nothing else.

"Jack Hughes is very enthusiastic about almost anything. He's very energetic and will try and make the most out of any situation. If it's his turn to do laundry or wash the dishes, he's going to make the most out of it. There's music playing, he's dancing around, he's going to make even the most boring of shit fun. He does everything with the excitement of a toddler, even if he doesn't wanna do it.

"Quinn, oh Quinn. Quinn is by far one of the most patient people I've ever met in my life. He's also a phenomenal listener. He's amazing to talk to about anything because he can identify when you just want to rant about how much of a stupid bitch someone is versus when you want solutions about whatever problem you have. He will take his time to understand the situation and will listen to you and soak up all of the information you have to say. I was taking a class over the summer and he used to help me with homework and as much as I asked him to read over essays or to help me with assignments, he took the time and listened to me and was patient with me and helped me with anything I needed.

"Kent Johnson, oh god, I have to much to say about Kent Johnson. KJ is down for absolutey anything. If Luke comes out of his room at the ass-crack of dawn with the dumbest of decisions, KJ is the first to volunteer, he loves living life and he likes making memories, he'll dance in the kitchen with Jack, won't even help him, just there to dance around and sing along, he'll join in any pick up sport game someone wants to play, he'll grab a controller regardless of what's on the screen. He loves having fun and will jump at any opportunity to do so.

"Nick Blankenberg is the voice of reason in the group, team dad, if you will. He's incredibly wise and very intelligent- not like the others aren't, but Blanks has the type of intelligence that you would expect out of your older brother. He can be handed a situation from any of the other boys in the group and immedately outweigh all of the pros and cons and he has enough social awareness to outweigh all of the outcomes and say 'hey, maybe we shouldn't-' or 'what if we do this instead.' He has so much wisdom and he's so much fun to talk to.

"Um, Brendon Brisson, I think is who I'll go with next. Briss might not seem like it, but he's very philisophical. If I had to put money on who I think would be the most likely to find laying out in the grass at night staring at the stars wondering about the workings of the universe, it would be Briss. He loves learning about new people and what keeps the world spinning and society moving, he loves talking about what happens after you die and whether aliens exist or not or what it would be like to be sucked into a black hole. He's curious about everything and loves learning about people and loves listening to everything everyone has to say just because he finds it interesting.

"God, I don't know how I can follow that up, um, Bordy, maybe? Thomas Bordeleau is everyone's own personal hype man. If he thinks someone looks good, he WILL tell you. He's constantly dishing out compliments and constantly whistling at people and telling them how good they look. He always tells you when he likes your outfit or if a particular color looks good on you or if the fashion choice you made was good. He likes making other people feel confident and good about themselves. I know everytime I'm with Thomas I'm going to walk away feeling like a million dollars just because he loves making other people feel good about themselves.

"Owen Power is a gentle giant. He loves cuddling and he loves giving hugs. He's so peaceful to be around and has become such a safe presence in my life over the last few months. He always know what to say and he always knows when I'm in a bad mood.

"and last but not least, Matty Beniers. Matty is an absolute goof. If there's a room full of people belly-laughing it's because Matty is doing something stupid. He enjoys being the center of attention and he enjoys making everyone around him laugh. He likes making people happy. Matty can turn any situation into an enjoyable one, he's the life of the party and he thrives on laughter and making everyone around him laugh.

"That was a lot am I missing anyone?"

"Trevor and Cole?" Alex leaned forward a little, adjusting the pillow behind her back.

"Oh my god how could I forget them! Trevor Zegras has so much personality, he brightens every room he walks into. He's always smiling and always happy and he has the most infectious laughter. Cole Caufield is the best shit talker. Cole Caufield loves a good bit of gossip and will eat it up."

"That's beautiful. Well, Y/N I just wanna thank you again for being here, it was an absolute pleasure. Maybe we'll get to do this after every album drop."

"Oh we absolutely should! Thank you so much for having me here, Alex. I'm excited for the shit-talk session that happens after we shut the camera off."

"You are the absolute best, does this make us best friends?"

"I think it does. I'm pretty sure we're best friends."

Alex laughs, "Anyways, go follow Y/N on all of her social media, it's just Y/N.L/N, isn't it?" You nod, "Go show her all of the love, Y/N, thank you so much for being here."

"God, I love you so much."

"Girl, I love you, too!"

-💍

LOVE LOVE LOVE

SO GOOD

#soft thoughts w/ari #💍 Anon

[ghostlyhamburger]

Husband Watches Miraculous: NY Special

[does this one have an actual name idk]

OK this is definitely after season 3 because of the box.

Why did they do a Marvel version of the theme? you can't tell me that's not inspired by Marvel.

Okay so they store the powerups inside the thing?

They really tried to go all out with the updated animations didn't they?

Her hair is actually black this time! it looks really good.

Okay that's the first thing that I saw that's super out of character.

Some of these things are textured really well but some are just not. Look you can see texture on her clothes, on the bricks, on the ground, and then BRIGHT GREEN TRASH CAN. It just makes no sense.

This is gonna be a long hour.

Why did they increase Marinette's bust size?

What the fuck was with the way that beard was moving? It's like they didn't want to move the anchor point on the bottom. They anchored it to his shirt is how they modeled it.

Why do they keep changing Marinette's hair color? Why is it darker in the school lighting?

I think I know why this seems so hard to place in the timeline. Its production seems to start at the beginning of season 3 but they definitely got the bible. So they just didn't see all the development Marinette had in getting over her obsession with Adrien over the season.

This whole little bit about Marinette's obsession doesn't need to be here if you've seen the series. Its purpose is only for those who haven't seen the series, which is unneeded because who's gonna watch just for this? It's not a movie. if I skipped the next fifteen seconds nothing would be missed.

When has New York ever been considered romantic? I guess if they watch a lot of American Hallmark movies? But New York is dirtier and dingier than Paris.

They actually made Gabriel look good in this. Like I get how he's supposed to be a silver fox type. He's got a bit too much Justin Bieber face for me, but the hair works for him. I can see how he'd become a celebrity in Paris.

"I'll be keeping an eye on him." If Adrien was a sentimonster under his control, he wouldn't need to keep an eye on him. He could just keep track of him with the miraculous. Like, Mayura was able to track Feast.

Also why is Nathalie in the bed? didn't they fix the peacock? Oh wait she was still super weak and life force isn't easy to regenerate once it's been drained like that.

Oh they've got best girl here.

I think I already see where the entire plot of this special is going. She's gonna be upset at Chat because he's not gonna be there when a sentimonster attacks and she's gonna be upset and debate giving up her miraculous because that's been the theme of the episodes lately and the American heroes are going to somehow be bitches.

[We're only 10 minutes in.]

Gorilla doesn't like planes.

All right so it's not going to work because it's not a sentimonster alert.

How is the eagle going to help you beat Ladybug and Chat?

Marinette, just know when to stop talking, please.

Again, a nice little moment that would be really good.

5 seconds on the plane and she's basically assaulted someone.

Nice use of symmetry and mirroring each other.

Marinette is not having a good day.

Why did they give her such an ass in that shot?

That's actually a pretty good moment.

No. Alya no.

I do like how they call out their weird animation quirks of like. Marinette arms. It's fun.

A convict with a jet engine?

So normal magical and villain type things exist already.

Okay that is just Superman. That's just Superman outfit and Superman theme.

Another thing I don't like is all the infodump. There's a better way they could've introduced Uncanny Valley than Alya's random exposition. She was answering the question of the audience without being prompted to. And it throws me off.

"It's time to show these American heroes how French heroes do it!" NO. NO.

He's not a superhero. That was his entire bit. Also what's he gonna do, endanger everyone by opening up the emergency hatch? You have no superpowers, you have no gadgets, what possibly are you going to do here?

As an introduction, I like this.

It's like they wanted three teachers, one to be nice, one to be crazy, one to be strict, and then they shoved two of them into one character. It doesn't work.

Hot Dog Dan? So he's ... a hot dog vendor?

All right, the dancing is a cute little callback.

Okay I like the new animation style, the very American comic book. but can no one just leave Marinette and Adrien alone? Let them just be awkward together!

Can we get to the catastrophic failure that will lead into the less lovey-dovey shit?

So they're trying to say Lafayette was a holder?

Is that one of the self driving Tsurugi cars?

Wait we've seen the akuma butterflies phase. Why is there no consistency in the rules?

"There's artifacts left by people who unveiled the statue" So there's a miracle box there, right?

Solitude is just Mr. Pigeon!

Doc Ock. Huh. With replication abilities.

Door powers are actually pretty cool.

Now it's finally getting good! Can always count on Hawkmoth to interfere in the right way.

So why is Hawkmoth going after the sabre when the claw thing is very clearly the Miraculous?

Ahh. That's why.

They're still being quite efficient even though they're pissed at each other.

[Aeon is cataclysmed] You have a miracle bomb! It can literally reset people!

That is the smart decision. They don't know each other's identities. Also the American heroes don't have the authority to do that!

I dunno I feel like the reset should have gone through to the other area. When villains have changed in the middle of the episode the reset still works. And when there was the copycat Ladybug she used that one's lucky charm to do a reset bomb. So I call bullshit on that. Also I don't think Paris is still destroyed when we come back to it. So...

"If Uncanny Valley hadn't been a robot I would've caused irreparable harm." Except people have literally died, disintegrated into nothing, converted into energy, and brought back with no issues. So no, it's not irreparable harm. And this is so heavy handed!

The emotional flip flopping here is not great.

[hearing Liiri's ability] That's an incredibly busted ability. Her power is literally limit break.

Why are they having this argument right next to the French students? That just seems stupid.

Let's just steal a bike! oh, safety first

"Adrien I love you" Okay that's just cruel to the people who were watching this.

Yep that's actually what I was expecting.

WHY ARE THERE SO MANY GUNS? Oh right America.

I really like Jess and Aeon's characterization.

Okay I like the skateboard.

This should've just been a movie. It would've been better with time to do all the stuff going on.

Okay that's a neat little trick.

Why does this one hour episode have more musical types than the entirety of the game that came out?

[Ladybug hugs Chat] Okay that was a really cute moment.

Oh is he just gonna launch nukes at everything?

Trading cards, really?

Yeah see Paris is repaired already

"At least let me see what's inside the safe!" It's a miracle box. it's gotta be, right?

I like [Eagle's] outfit.

Was she gonna toss a piano at a pigeon? [Haven't you wanted to do that?] Yeah...

To the sun? To the sun.

Throwing things to the sun is also a Superman reference.

Why do you need more Miraculous? You only need two, and they're not going to help you, you don't have anyone to give them to!

Paris was not like that when they were visiting.

Okay. This should've just been a three part special episode. It tried to shove so much in so little timeframe and over half the thing was just pointless grandstanding about the stupid will they won't they. And I bet that while people loved that Adrien I love you moment, he couldn't fucking hear it and that's the only thing we're gonna get 'cause fuck these producers.

If the pacing was the same throughout, it would've been really good, but it came out of nowhere to the point where they turned up the speed of people speaking to fit it in. A lot of things got super rushed through and I really wanted to see more of it but I know I'm never going to because the producer of Zag sucks!

#husband watches miraculous ladybug #ghostly's husband #ny special #miraculous ladybug

[timetraveltodystopia]

Enhypen current energies - June Shufflemancy reading

♡ Shufflemancy reading - 06/06/22 and 07/06/22 Disclaimer: I’m a beginner with tarot and my readings could be correct and could be not. I am still learning so please take everything with a grain of salt. These readings are for fun and for entertainment purposes only <3 This is all alleged. I don’t want to hurt any idol or send them hate.

Heeseung

Hold (Candyland Remix) - Elephante, Candyland, Jessica Jarrell

Smile for the camera cause the world's on fire Cheers to the moment when the words rip off I'll be holding on with you Dance with the devil in the pouring rain Sharks in the water, but it's all the same I'll be holding on, I'll be holding on with you I'll be holding on with you I'll be holding on with you

Heeseung has been receiving a lot of hate from many sources, not matter Instagram, tik tok, youtube... All over social media, but he knows it is one of the disadvantages of being an idol, he will fight against the odds to still be an idol and work in the industry.

Jay

Black Skindhead - Kanye West

Four in the mornin', and I'm zonin' They say I'm possessed, it's an omen I keep it 300, like the Romans 300 bitches, where the Trojans? Baby, we livin' in the moment I've been a menace for the longest But I ain't finished, I'm devoted And you know it, and you know it

Jay has been feeling creative lately, he has many ideas in his mind and he wants to show them to his fans all he has been thinking is to improve Enhypen music.

Jake

Havana - Camila Cabello, Young Thug

Havana, ooh na-na (Ayy, ayy) Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh na-na (Oh, ayy, ayy, uh-huh) He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na (Oh, no) Oh, but my heart is in Havana (Huh) My heart is in Havana (Ayy) Havana, ooh na-na

Jake misses Australia. Even though he loves Korea, the culture, and the dream of being an idol, he has been raised in Australia, and no one is going to take that away from him.

Sunghoon

Stomp Me Out - Bryce Fox

Shots fired on me Shots fired on me Can't stomp me out You can't stomp me out Shots fired on me

An ex is spreading rumors against him. They were probably a trainee and they are jealous of Sunghoon's success and how he can become so famous within months after he debuted.

Jungwon

Cloud 9 - Afrojack

Hard and now you're far away And I can't bring you back Find myself thinking "What if you stayed?" And you didn't pack your bags

So Jungwon was in a situationship and his partner was overwhelmed because they were with an idol. They ghosted him, went with someone else, and called him because they missed him. Jungwon fell hard with this person but he knows he can't trust them.

Sunoo

Summertime in Paris - Jaden, WILLOW

Summertime is meant to fall in love I could fall asleep or stare in your eyes We'll dance all night Summertime is meant to fall in love I wrote you a poem for your surprise It's right by your side Summertime is meant to fall in love I could fall asleep or stare in your eyes We'll dance all night Summertime is meant to fall in love I wrote you a poem for your surprise It's right by your side

AWWW SUNOO. He fell in love with one of his closest friends but he won't tell them because of fear of rejection. He loves their company tho and loves being by their side.

Niki

Home to Mama - Justin Bieber, Cody Simpson

Because I'll take you home to mama Let you meet my friends Because you don't come with drama So I want you 'til the world ends You're way more than worth it But I don't feel like I deserve it You got the pieces, you're my kind of perfect

Niki fell in love hard, I don't think he is in an official relationship yet, but their love is so big that Niki is ready to present them to his friends and especially to his mom. And does feel like a non-idol because they never meet their friends in real life or they see them in the Inkigayo performance.

This changes over time. Everyone has free will and vibrations change. Hope you like this reading <3

© rights reserved to timetraveldystopia

#enhypen tarot #kpop tarot #kpop readings #jay enhypen #jake tarot #jay tarot #sunghoon enhypen #heeseung tarot #niki tarot #sunoo tarot #jungwoo tarot #enhypen shufflemancy #shufflemancy #shufflemancy reading #shuffle

[maletfwitch]

Justin’s new fag 

I Always had a massive crush on Justin Bieber and always fantasized about worshiping his body so when he came to town on tour I came up with a plan so I could do just that.

I managed to sneak past his security and enter his dressing room which was empty since he was on stage performing so I hid and waited for the show to be over.

after ending his show Justin entered his dressing room covered in sweat after a long performance he sat down and then I made my way out of hiding and snuck up on him only for him to see me in the mirror.

“Holy shit, SEC-“I quickly covered Justin’s mouth before he could call for security 

“Listen this might sound crazy but I always wanted to serve you please don’t call security” I told him as I began to remove my hand from his mouth 

“So you wanna serve me? how so?” Justin asked intrigued

“Why don’t I show you” I said in a seductive tone 

Justin then moved over to a different chair so I could start, I began by licking the sweat off of his abs tasting so nice and salty as I made sure to lick them clean before moving up to pecs and then making my way over to his armpits smelling so musky and tasting so good 

“I gotta let you in on a secret… I didn’t wear deodorant today” he said to me as I continued to lick and move onto the rest of his arm and then repeated the same for his other arm and armpit.

then I moved onto his feet as I licked and sucked both of them clean enjoying every minute of it and I noticed Justin getting more into it too. 

then I had him stand up so I could begin rimming his big fat sweaty ass, once my mouth entered it was pure heaven as I finally achieved my dream tasting all the Delicious sweat in his ass.

Then suddenly I felt Justin grab me by the hair and forced me to deep throat his hard cock 

“Yeah, you like that fag?” Justin said while aggressively pushing my head up and down his cock I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying this after a while, he aggressively took my head off of his cock and threw me onto the floor 

“You know what? I think I like having a fag around to use,” Justin said now totally corrupted “in fact I think I'm gonna have to keep you around,” Justin said before stuffing me into a bag and then chaining me up in his tour bus.

Now I had to kiss my old life goodbye as he would take me city to city on his tour to use after every show and who knows what he’ll do with me after his tour wraps up, but to be honest I don’t hate it while I miss my freedom it’s a small price to pay so I can spend every night worshipping Justin like the alpha god he is.

//////////////////

Hey guys I hope you enjoyed this story I wanted to try something different and do something non-tf related for once since it’s my first time doing something like this it may not be my best work so make sure to tell me what you think.

#maletfwitch #Celeb #justin bieber #Alpha #smut

[sorryjustafangirl]

hanukkah, oh hanukkah

a/n: happy first day of hanukkah to those who celebrate!! although i am not jewish, i wanted to acknowledge that not everyone celebrates christmas and that includes people in hockeyblr. i really hope i do this holiday justice and if there is anything wrong, please do not hesitate to let me know. and this one was really fun for me to write and is one of my favourites :)

pairing: anthony beauvillier x jewish!gn!reader

word count: 2.7k+

Warnings: mentions of god, jewish traditions

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, you know the drill. also the gif is not mine, all credit to the lovely gif maker for this beauty

“Are we preparing for a power outage?” Anthony laughed, holding up one of the many (forty-four to be exact) candles you'd bought. He was helping unpack the groceries when he saw the bag full of blue and white candles. You turned to him and put the candle back with the others.

“They’re for Hanukkah. And there won’t be any extras, so please don’t jinx a power outage,”

His eyes widened. “We need that many?”

“They burn down every night, so yes.”

“Every night?” You laughed as you nodded. The two of you had been friends for a number of years but this was the first Hanukkah that you would spend together. You were a little nervous about letting Anthony in on your traditions but you tried to remind yourself that it was your boyfriend you were talking about. The same man who created an annual fundraiser for his grandpa, the same man who unashamedly jammed to Justin Bieber, and the same man who always had a pint of Rocky Road in the freezer for you.

But you still had some nerves about sharing your traditions, your religion, with him in a way that’s more intimate than with your other friends.

---

“Hey babe,” You greeted him at the door and his bag fell with a thump. His arms were around you in a second and his body slumped into yours. Your hand went to the back of his neck, fiddling with the slightly damp hairs on the back of his neck. The game had been a hard one with the Rangers, the deep New York rivalry always proving to be physically taxing. You pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “The bed’s all ready for you. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He lifted his head from the embrace and squinted at you. “An hour?”

“I just… I haven’t lit the candles for Hanukkah yet. I thought we were going to do it together, but you’re obviously exhausted so, go to bed, I’ll be there as soon as I’m done.”

Instantly, he was shaking his head.

“No, I want to celebrate this with you. It’s important to you, so it’s important to me. Five minutes, yeah?”

“Beau..”

He gave you a stern look with a smile. “Mon coeur. Five minutes and I‘ll be there,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading to the bedroom. You went into the kitchen and grabbed the menorah and the two candles you’d need for tonight. You grabbed the lighter and took everything over to the main window of the apartment, with a spectacular view of the New York skyline. It had a large windowsill, wide enough to hold the menorah without any fear that it might tip over.

True to his word, Anthony walked into the kitchen five minutes later, wearing his glasses and his favourite pair of pajama pants. He dimmed the lights and walked over to where you were waiting for him and leaned his head on your shoulder.

“Wait, remind me why two candles if it’s the first night?”

“The one that goes in the middle here-” You pointed to the slightly raised middle of the menorah. “-is called the shamash candle and it’s like the helper. You use it to light all the other candles.” He nodded at your explanation.

You grabbed the lighter and carefully lit the shamash. Its glow lit up the room, especially with the window so close. You recited a candle blessing, followed by one thanking God, and finished with a Shehecheyanu.

“You’ve said that last one before haven’t you? When we got the apartment, right?”

“You remembered that?” His cheeks turned pink and you smiled. “It’s called a Shehecheyanu and you say it when you do something for the first time that year, like lighting the menorah, or when you get any significant possessions, like a apartment. At least, that’s what my family always did.”

You placed the second candle in the rightmost spot and carefully lifted the shamash to light it. After placing both candles back in the menorah, you leaned into Anthony’s chest, his arms going around your waist. You admired the flickering of the light and relished in the stillness these moments brought you.

Slowly, Anthony walked backwards towards the couch, where you both sat down still facing the candles. He murmured something into your shoulder but it was inaudible. You turned towards him, watching the glow of the candles in the reflection of his glasses and he repeated his question.

“Why does it go in the window again?”

“The story of Hanukkah is that the Jews fought against the ancient Greeks who were trying to assimilate us. Putting it in a window reminds the world that we won, that we’re still here.” You looked back at the menorah and snuggled further into his embrace.

You two of you softly talked about your days, how stupid Marty's penalty was, how your work project was coming along. The candles burned down steadily and when they were almost extinguished, you broke out of the comfort of Beau’s arms to deal with them.

“Merde, wait right there.” You looked back at him with your eyebrows knitted together but he was already racing to the bedroom. He came back just as quickly, but with a box with a bow on it. Your face softened and he presented it to you. “I know that Hanukkah isn’t the equivalent of Christmas but I also know that come Christmas, you’re going to get me something even though I do not need anything,” You bowed your head trying to hide your guilt. “So, I wanted to get something for you too.”

You took the box out of his hands, carefully untying the bow and delicately peeling off the wrapping. Inside the box were a few gift cards to your favourite stores, a pair of blue and white striped fuzzy socks, and a larger wrapped item. You opened it to find a three-wick candle, the label reading “A.B.” You scrunched your eyebrows and lifted the lid. Anthony’s cologne flooded your senses, with hints of his peppermint aftershave and the rink’s laundry detergent.

“I figured it would be nice for when I’m on long road trips,” He said, the last of the light flickering in his glasses. Your hand reached for the back of his neck and you brought him in for a long kiss. When you broke for air, you whispered to him.

“It’s perfect, Beau.”

---

The next night the two of you celebrated the more traditional way. You lit the menorah and celebrated with latkes (which according to your boyfriend are just “tater tot pancakes”) and applesauce, before sending Beau off to Philadelphia for a quick away game. You’d gone to bed shortly after, alone, but it was only a couple nights before he’d be back in your arms.

Your alarm blared seemingly too early and you begrudgingly got out of bed, going to the kitchen to make your cup of coffee. You put the kettle on and got the creamer from the fridge, a small green sticky note on the fridge catching your eye. Upon a closer look, you saw the familiar chicken scratch of your boyfriend.

Hi babe! Happy third day of Haunakah Hannunakah Hanukah Hanukkah! (Why is that so hard to spell?) I ordered some baklava and sufganiyot for you and it should get there just before sunset. I’m really sorry I can’t be there to celebrate it with you :( but I’ll call you before the game and I hope today is good!! Je t’aime mon coeur <3

You quickly opened your phone, pressing his number. It only rang twice before he picked up.

“Hi babe,” His voice sounded far away, like he was on speaker phone. When you looked at the clock next to you, you realized that he was probably getting ready for morning skate.

“How did you know about sufganiyot?” A loud laugh escaped him and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Good morning to you too babe. Thank you for the jelly-filled donuts, I love you too.” He mocked and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Yes, yes, I love you too. And thank you, really, that’s so sweet of you. But seriously, how did you know about sufganiyot?”

“I know how to use Google,” He chuckled and Mat piped up from the background.

“He was on his phone all night, I swear his phone brightness-- I almost didn’t sleep.” There was some shuffling on his end, along with some muffled laughs and a few choice words in French from Anthony. A door slammed and his voice got much clearer over the phone.

“Sorry about him,” You knew he had one hand on the back of his neck and you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you. Your voice was quiet as you responded to him.

“Thank you...for going through all that trouble for me.”

“It’s not trouble,”

“You didn’t have a good sleep before your game though, it is trouble,” You insisted.

“It’s one game and you’re more important than hockey, you know that. It’s not trouble, and if it is, then you’re worth it.” You ‘awed’ and the two of you said a quick goodbye as he went off to his skate and your coffee finished brewing.

---

Anthony unlocked the door to your apartment, quietly placing his bag on the ground and closing the door. They had got back early from their trip and he wanted to surprise you. He walked towards the kitchen where he heard your music playing from. He admired you for a moment, how you were in your own little bubble wearing one of his shirts from the QMJHL with your pajama shorts and a pair of striped fuzzy socks. You swayed along to the music, quietly singing to yourself. He couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face and he walked behind you, casually wrapping one of his arms around your waist.

“Salut mon coeur,” Your head whipped around to find him and your face lit up like the Rockefeller Center tree. You wrapped your arms around him in a hug and he tucked his head into your neck.

“You’re early!”

“And you’re busy,” He chuckled into your shoulder before turning to the counter, noticing stray flour and cookie sheets. “What are you making?”

“It’s called rugelach. It’s a dessert that’s like a mini croissant that has dried fruit or chocolate in them. They were my favourite growing up.”

“Can I help?” You nodded softly, smiling to yourself. You moved over to make room for him and passed him the cutting board with walnuts on it. The two of you worked silently, while some soft music played in the background. You rolled out the dough, making two large circles- one for Anthony and one for you. You spread yours with walnuts and apricot jam and Anthony filled his with some melted chocolate. You cut your dough into eight equal slices, just like a pizza. You then softly rolled them the widest part to the tip, into a little crescent shape.

You looked over to your boyfriend. He was biting his bottom lip, his eyes focused on how to make his look like yours. When he had finished all eight, he presented his tray to you. Some of them had chocolate oozing out the side and some were lopsided, but you couldn’t help but smile at his efforts. You placed them in the oven to bake and turned towards him. He held out his hand and bowed slightly towards you, offering you a dance. You humored the dork you called your boyfriend as he slowly danced with you in the kitchen as the sun set.

The timer for the pastries broke your impromptu dancing and while you went to take them out of the oven, Anthony headed for the cabinet near the window. You looked over to see him taking the candles and lighter out, counting the candles to make sure he had the right number.

“It’s after sunset so...we should probably light the menorah and then we can make supper together, right?” You nodded and joined him by the window, saying the prayers as he lit the shamash and then the other candles. The two of you watched the fire burn the wax, relaxing in the calmness of the room and thinking about how lucky you were to have such a thoughtful partner.

---

On the last day of Hanukkah, the two of you travelled to your parent’s house to celebrate. He had met your parents and sister before, but this was one of the first times he was meeting your extended family as well. You were a little nervous, but he exceeded your expectations, as always, immediately hitting it off with your uncles and your little cousins adored him.

He sat next to you during dinner, one hand in yours, as he answered all the interrogations about the season with ease. He complimented your mother on the brisket and listened intently as your grandmother retold the story of Hanukkah to your young cousins. When it came time to light the menorah, Anthony held your hand and you leaned into his tall figure. You were separated when your uncles came to talk about his hockey stats and you went to help clean the dishes.

“Have you seen Beau?” You asked your sister after you had finished helping clean up. She nodded and pointed to the corner near the Menorah where the kids were sitting in a circle playing the dreidel game. The size difference between your cousins and your NHL-player boyfriend was adorable, especially with how hunched over he was to hear them talk to him. You made your way over, your cousins smiling at you.

You sat down beside Anthony, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“How are you doing?”

“He’s losing,” Seth answered for him before taking his turn and spinning the dreidel. It landed on the Hay side and he happily took half the gelt (chocolate coins) from the middle. Your other cousins took their turns, with your youngest cousin, Anna, landing on Gimel. She squealed while the others groaned. She took all the gelt that was in the middle and everyone placed one of their pieces back in the middle. Your boyfriend took the dreidel and spun it, it finally landing on Shin. Seth laughed as Anthony placed his last chocolate piece in the middle.

“I told you he was losing, Y/N!” You nodded at Seth and turned to your boyfriend.

“I still love you even if you suck at dreidel,” He cheered up at that and you took a look at your watch. “Do you want to head home?” He shook his head.

“One more game?” You nodded your head, and Seth grabbed more gelt pieces to start up the game. You took a few of Anthony’s turns spinning the dreidel and your cousins talked to you about school and what they were doing during the winter break. The room was full of laughs, especially when Anna ate some of her last games’ winnings and got chocolate all over her face. Anthony didn’t get any better at the game, always spinning a Nun (which means he gave nothing but got nothing) or Shin. You yawned onto his shoulder and closed your eyes.

“Hey Seth, here,” Anthony whispered. You felt his arms move and you opened your eyes to see Anthony handing your cousin his gelt pieces, except for two. He looked back to you and placed the chocolates in your hands. “Ready to go?”

You nodded and he helped you up off the floor. The two of you said goodbye to your family, wishing them one last happy Hanukkah and safe travels, before you were in the car, driving back to your place.

“Thank you for spending Hanukkah with me. It really means a lot to me.” You looked over to him to admire how the red light reflected on his face. He turned to you and smiled. The light turned green and he looked back at the road, the smile still on his face.

“I want to spend all the Hanukkahs with you,”

“Okay, now you’re just being sappy.” You laughed. He grabbed your hand across the console and brought it to his mouth to press a soft kiss to it.

“I do mean it though,” His words instantly had heat rushing to your cheeks, a smile gracing your face.

“I know. I love you,” He squeezed your hand and murmured it back to you. The two of you sat just like that in your bubble of happiness- your hands intertwined and the radio playing quietly- all the way home. You were worried about letting Anthony in on your traditions for nothing; he really was the best person you could ask for.

holiday taglist (join here): @barzysandhughesbaby @jizzyhughes @jostyriggslover96 @janeydeaux @tanninetanya

regular taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @tysonjost-taylorsversion

#abby's christmas vacation #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl x reader #new york islanders imagine #hockey imagine #abby writes #im so bad at endings im sorry

[ramp-it-up]

Hi DJ, congrats on 2k! I was so excited for these options! You're making this season a whole lot more enjoyable. I don't remember if Rafa × Holly did mistletoe, but I would love Rafa × Daveed× reader mistletoe with the quote "You call this decorated?" from the prompt list. Smutty please :)

Would you write any one of Daveed or Rafa's characters? If not, got some ideas! A few should be posted over the course of the week.

☺☺☺ stay merry

Thank you my Lovely! ❤️💚 I did Rafa and Holly under the "mistletoe" in a drabble last year for 10 Days of Christmas here.

Here is your request. I think this is what you meant, but if not, sorry, not sorry, lol. 😜

I'm open to suggestions, Love!

Mistletoe

Pairing: Bay Boys (Rafael Casal + Daveed Diggs) x OC Quinn Holland

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: This is smutty and messy, yall! Drinking, smoking, dancing, public sex act, threesome, spit roasting, oral, (m/f receiving,) tattoos, praise kink, manual sex, bukkake, cum play, raw sex with multiple partners (don't do that y'all, wrap it up when you have sex with multiple partners).

A/N: This is the third in The Greatest of All Time series with OC Quinn. I love her. It’s also for #Djs2KHolidayVisit. Hope you like it! 😘

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The party was live in your apartment. It seemed like the entire complex was there, hot and sweaty and grinding to the music. It was the last real celebration until most people went home to their families and the pressure. You and Daveed and Rafa were making a ‘pretty, pretty sandwich, as’ Chloe observed.

You three were friends. With some very special benefits. You’d given them both a couple of tastes of being with you at the same time and they kept trying to come back for more.

You didn’t want them to get too attached, so you pumped the brakes a little. So, it was two days before Christmas and you were backing it up in the living room on whomever had a front. You felt a familiar bulge in your ass and straightened up against Daveed. You were loose and smiling when you said hello.

“‘Lo Quinn. Happy Holidays.”

“Happy Holidays, D.”

You smiled and got even closer, shuddering as his hands went to your hips and gripped them like a man who knew his way around your body. And he did. You turned your face and smelled the whiskey and smoke on his breath.

Things got warmer when Rafael came up in front of you and placed his hands around your waist, watching you grind on Daveed and leaning in for a filthy kiss.

“Y’know. I share a lot of things with D, but you’re my favorite.”

Rafael whispered into your ear as you slipped your arms around his neck and pressed your tits into him.

You three barely danced and no one noticed or seemed to care. Everyone was caught up in their own debauchery. The spiked wassail punch had you loose and you wanted some self indulgences for Christmas.

“Where’s the mistletoe, Quinn?”

Rafa’s lips were close to yours as Daveed ground his huge hard cock into your ass. His fingertips slipped into your waistband and were ghosting your clit. Oh, you were ready to go.

“I’ll show you where it is, but first, give me another kiss, just b-because, Rafa. Pleasseeee?”

You were watching his lips and squirming between the two best friends.

Daveed’s insanely long fingers were all up in your wet folds, now, using your wetness to lubricate and circle your clit expertly. Your lids were half-closed and your eyes dilated with desire, and Rafa couldn’t help himself but taste your lips right now as his friend made you cum on his fingers.

“MMMhhhhmmmmmm! Fuck!”

You moaned and whimpered into Rafael’s mouth as Daveed made you cum, you clutching the blonde’s shoulders as both men trapped you and made you take it.

“Good girl Quinn. Now where’s the mistletoe. I need to kiss you.”

“Hnnnnnnnhhh. Let’s go to my room, I’ll show you.”

They let you go and you went down the short hallway to your room, where tons of jackets lay on the bed. Daveed was licking his fingers and Rafael was looking up at the ceiling.

“Don’t see a mistletoe. Where are you hiding it, Q?”

Rafa looked at you with those eyes, which seemed evergreen tonight.

You pushed the jackets on the floor and then pulled your pants down, laying on the bed and running your hand down your stomach to your now shaved mound.

Both men stood there, looked and said, ��Dammmnnnnnn!” in unison, as they cocked their heads and looked at your new tattoo.

“Holy shit Quinn. Only you.”

You bit your finger and giggled. “People seem to obey the silliest of traditions and signifiers, so, I thought I’d signify what I want. If you get to see this mistletoe,” you pointed to the pretty green and red tattoo on your pubis mound. “You need to kiss me, right under it.”

The points on the mistletoe leaves pointed to your clit, and Rafa wanted to clap at your genius.

“That’s why I love you Quinn. You’re a real one.” He watched as Daveed went to his knees in front of you. D went for it and tenderly kissed your clit, then stuck out his long, wide tongue and licked it like it was an ice cream cone.

“Fuck, D. That looks good.” Rafa moaned and rubbed his cock through his jeans, then he looked at you, rubbing your tits through your sweater. “I mean I love you as a friend, Quinn. We cool and… all…that. Fuck!”

“Ok, friend, then c’mon up here. You know what I like.”

“I do, friend. I do.”

Rafael pulled up your shirt to reveal your tits, and then, pulled down his jeans and stepped out of them, revealing his hard cock, weeping red slit pulsing precum already.

You took it in your hand and started pumping, in time with swipes of Daveed’s tongue through your cunt. Then you turned your head and stuck Rafa’s dick in your mouth, humming on it as if you played the flute.

“I’m so glad that that mistletoe is there.”

Daveed intoned, his lower register hitting you as he leaned down and gave you another good, long french kiss, his tongue working it’s magic.

Your mouth was full, so you just hummed.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Rafa crooned, reaching down to stroke your throat, in which he could see the outline of his cock. You were deep throating him like a champion.

You had a hold of Daveed’s hair as he went to town on you, tongue swiping up and down and around your folds, he was making out with your cunt like a pro. He’d already pulled one orgasm out of you, now he wanted another.

Rafa pulled out to let you breathe. He watched the way you gasped and shuddered as he stroked his cock.

“You’re doing so good for us, beautiful. You good?”

‘F-f-fuckkkk yesss!”

You gasped again as D took that as his cue to slip that big dick inside your slippery, hot pussy, bottoming out as you arched your back. Rafa was stroking your breasts and pulling at your nipples, causing them to draw up into hard mountain peaks, he tuned them to the frequency that you three shared.

“Fuck, this pussy feels so damn good. Combats whiskey dick every time. M fucking close.”

“And you know how good this mouth do.”

Rafael moaned and you could feel some cum pulse down your throat.

Daveed watched you writhing and used his thumb to push you over the edge again. You came, both cocks still inside your mouth and your cunt.

“Like the mistletoe, Quinn, but you call this decorated?”

Daveed’s hips stuttered as you moaned around Rafa’s dick and he groaned in response.

“We’ll help you out a little.”

Daveed pulled out just in time to start spurting on the mistletoe, and then started jacking his pearlescent cum all over your lower half, while Rafael pulled out of your mouth with a pop and came all over your face, neck, and tits.

You smiled, moaned, and played in it, drawing your fingers through it and licking it off, causing Rafa and Daveed to give you more to play with.

“Fuck, Quinn. Thats’ a girl.”

“Face so pretty decorated with us like that.”

“It’s the most beautiful time of the year.”

“Shit, Santa’s cuming tonight!”

You smiled as the boys showered you with praise. And cum.

When they were finally spent, they stripped off their clothes and climbed in bed with you, exhausted. You three formed a pretty, sticky sandwich.

You, Daveed, and Rafa were oblivious as people came in to get their coats.

You just accepted thier ’Merry Christmases’ with contented snores.

#djs2kholidayvisit #ask dj #dj will answer #daveed diggs #rafael casal #bay boys #quinn #daveed diggs x reader x rafael casal #daveed x rafa x quinn #greatest of all time fic

[gukyi]

if i told you | jjk

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

{friends to lovers!au, college!au}

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

check out the post-script drabble here!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew that already. How could you have forgotten? 

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

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

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

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

“Have you tried babysitting?” Chaewon supplies helpfully. 

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

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

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

Jungkook pouts. He knows you’re right. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Jeon Jungkook is the sole best decision of your life. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s so hard to say no to him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I’ve heard,” you muse. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And who are you to resist?

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

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

You’re best friends. 

This is normal. 

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

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

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

God. 

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

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

Sighing, you pick up. 

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

“Chaewon—”

“Oh, Y/N! How’s it going?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Who’s that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chaewon,” you tell him. 

“Oh, why was she calling?”

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

“To do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about food?”

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

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

“Gross.”

“Let’s not sit in bed all day.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure thing, is Chaewon coming?”

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

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

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

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

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

Who else could it be?

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

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

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

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

You: ok next time then!

[October 23rd, 1:03PM]

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

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

You: yummm sure thing!

[October 30th, 9:58AM]

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

[October 30th, 11:13PM]

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

[October 31st, 2:02AM]

You: ok You: thanks for telling me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a knock on your door. 

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

And then, you hear,

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

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

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

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

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

“What was Yeonjoo dressed as?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, don’t you want that?” You ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He dashes down the hallway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s a goddess.”

“Indeed.”

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

Not surprising. Jungkook excels at everything he does. 

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

“She said I’d make a good boyfriend.”

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

“You good?” He asks, brows furrowed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about a dress?”

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

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

“Me?” You frown. “Why not Jungkook?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing separates the rich from the poor like morality. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Im Chaewon, is that you?”

“Mrs. Kim!”

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

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

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

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

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

You are not pre-law.

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

“Yes, definitely,” you say awkwardly. 

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

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

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

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

“Just murder me.”

“Have any tips?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tired?”

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

“I’m honored,” you say sarcastically. 

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

And then, you spot him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That night, you stay at Chaewon’s place. 

“You’ve been acting weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it? How?” Chaewon says. 

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

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

“You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bullshit.”

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

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

“Why would I?” 

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good?”

Jungkook moans again in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you aren’t that lonely. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

Oh, God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can’t say you didn’t do the same. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, what—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, it did, but Jungkook, I can’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighs. 

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

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

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

“You do?” Jungkook asks. 

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

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

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

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

“Mine too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

↳ check out the post-script drabble here!

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

[gm--requests]

Love Grows - Soft Dom! Jung Jaehyun

r e q u e s t s - closed

g e n r e - s m u t & f l u f f

w a r n i n g s - fingering, oral (f. recieving), fuck boy Jaehyun at the beginning, breeding kink, size kink (kinda), praise, light! body worship, a mentioned by never explored Daddy kink

o r i g i n a l  c o n t e n t - i did write this

w o r d s - 4425

a / n - i did not proof read this. i feel like this fic took me 40 years to write... i don’t know why but fuck i had no motivation for this so i really apologise if it isn’t any good. MERRY HOLIDAYS BTW. n e ways this is written with a plus-size reader in mind. anyone, of course, can read it, and i highly encourage it because i worked hard on this piece, but there needs to be a common understanding that there will be no dramatic throwing of anyone through a wall or anything lmao. like the plus-size community is hella underrated and i hope that i do all my babies justice.  also please leave feedback if you have any. also please do not engage in unprotected sex unless you are in a long term relationship with a trustworthy partner.  that being said please enjoy sex as much as you want with the use of aforementioned protection!

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

You disliked a lot of people. Your eighth grade science teacher who called you out for falling asleep one day in his class, the three boys who bullied you from the second grade until senior year, Selena Gomez based completely on the fact that she dated Justin Bieber and now you’re too far into your life to feel any different. But never in your life had you ever found an enemy. Never had you ever stumbled across someone that you would go as far as to say you hate, until you met Jung Jaehyun. 

The two of you had met in college, long after you’d gained confidence and well into the final stage of frontal lobe development. Meaning he had no excuse to be the way he was; obnoxious and cocky but in a more flippant way, having apparently had too many girls toot his horn for him. If life were to ever work in your favour you wouldn’t have ever met him, but there he was in every single sociology class you had. Of course this was due to the fact that two of you shared a major, but you’d be damned if it didn’t feel like he was taunting you on purpose. 

Every, single, day this overly charismatic , 90s rom-com image of a man would walk into the room and make a beeline for you. A smirk that you had grown to hate more and more every day, plastered to his face. He knew he pissed you off, of course he knew! That was why it was so much fun. Your immediate microaggressions felt more like a challenge to him, not to mention, he couldn’t stop now. Not when the two of you had been playing, what he considered, a nice game of cat and mouse, for almost a year and a half now. 

“Hey Princess, I can tell that you’re already happy to see me,” he purred as he slid into the seat next to you. He couldn’t help the way his smirk widened into a smile as you rolled your eyes at him, opting to open your notebook instead of answer. He rested his head in his hand as he watched you grab your pencil case from your bag and begin outlining for the lesson. 

“Always a good girl,” he said cheekily, “so prepared and ready.” 

A slow heat crawled across your cheeks, “Do you always have to talk to me like that? There are literally twenty-three other girls in this damn class.” 

“But all these other girls don’t let me play like this,” he responded. 

“Jaehyun,” you say as your turn to look at him properly, “I feel like I tell you this every single day, but I really can’t fucking stand you.” 

He bites his lip, “God I love it when you play hard to get.” 

Your face hardens, “There really is no getting through to you is there?” 

“I just know you don’t mean it,” he answers, placing his large hand on yours. You snatch your hand away quickly and bow up at him. Jaehyun laughs, “Plus, I really feel like I can just be normal around you.” 

“Harrassing me until I’m ready to beat you up, is your normal?” 

“C’mon Princess, you can’t possibly hate me that much.” 

“You’d fucking be surprised,” you mumble as the teacher walks into the class room. 

Class goes normally, Jaehyun taking every chance he had to turn around and wink or grin at you, sometimes pretending to scratch the back of head, but really hiding his large hand to make finger hearts at you, and just like that the day moved forward like clockwork. 

You walking to your classes, working hard to ignore his presence while he followed at your side, saying hi to what seemed like every human who walked by, hims, hers, theys, and everyone in between, at one point he even stopped to hi-five a little kid who was with his mother. For every second in between those random greetings, he was talking to you, well-- talking at you. About school, about his sports practice, his next game, his job, everything, and your responses were short, if they happened at all. 

Right in front of your next class he stops you. His arm shooting out and caging you against the wall next to you. Your eyes shoot open in shock and he grins widely, his dimples making small concaves on his cheeks. Before you can even open your mouth to talk, he is speaking. 

“Go on a date with me.” It isn’t a question and yet you don’t struggle at all to say no. His smile fades a bit, but his eyes stay determined. 

“I’ll make you a deal, give me one month,” he brings his free hand up and shows you his index finger, “just one. Be my girlfriend for one month, and if you don’t end up catching feelings for and falling hopelessly in love with me, I’ll leave you alone forever.” 

He watches you as you contemplate the idea. It would be so nice to finally not have to deal with him following you class to class or annoying you in said classes, but it all seemed too good to be true. I mean one month passes like it is only 2 days when you’re a busy college student. Not to mention, he was an overachieving shit head. Being on the football team as well as having a part time job and being in the drama club, how much time would you really have to see him off campus?

“What are the stipulations, and hurry up,” you say glancing at your phone, “we only have 5 minutes until class starts.” 

His smile widens again, “We be a normal couple. That means holding hands, hugs, dates, the whole nine,” this time you cut him off by holding up your index finger. 

“Try the whole 8 or 7,” you say dryly, “I will not kiss you, I will not have sex with you, and you will not distract from my studies, I’m barely passing calc as is and I’m not going to let this little game of yours get in the way.” 

Somehow his face lights up with more excitement, “Okay! Is that all?” 

You try to wrack your brain for more, but nothing important comes to mind, “Yes, for now, if I think of any other boundaries I’ll let you know, I guess.” 

He grabs your phone from your hand and turns around quickly so that you can’t grab it from him. Jaehyun taps on the screen a few times and eventually you hear his phone ringing in his pocket, “I took the liberty of adding my contact to your phone, I even gave myself a cute nickname and some emojis,” you glare at him as he passes your phone back to you and you read the contact name Daddy 💞💞 , “Also your password probably shouldn’t be all zeroes… that is super predictable,” you roll your eyes and go to walk away from him, but he calls out to you. When you stop, he grabs your small chubby hand in his large veiny one and you freeze, “Does that no kissing rule apply for cheek and or forehead kisses?” 

You notice the other student rushing to classes staring at the two of you and your brain malfunctions, “N-no, I guess not.” 

“Awesome!” he exclaims, before dragging you through the doors of your next class right as it’s beginning. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe that is how our relationship started,” you mumble in embarrassment as he grabs your hand from across the table, giving it a loving squeeze. 

“I knew you liked me y/n, no one can resist me,” his words are cocky, but his voice is oozing with love, “I really am glad I asked you to go out with me for a month. I had never wanted a relationship so badly,” you look up to meet his eyes and he grins. You look at those dimples you used to hate when you were younger, that now were one of your favorite things about him. 

“You were such a nuisance, but somewhere down the line I realised that I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have you to annoy the ever loving shit out of me,” you tease and his smile turns to a pout. 

“How are you still so bad at saying that you love me? It’s been 3 years now,” he says with a laugh and you giggle back. 

“I do love you. I think I loved you about a week and a half into that one month, and that is so ridiculous to admit. I was so confident that you’d never get to me. I was also convinced that you were the biggest player in existence.” 

“To be fair, I was,” he says with a sigh, “but the day I met you, I was hooked. No girl had really ever told me no or put up a genuine fight. The fact that you didn’t want me was the thing that made me want you at first, but then I realised that I was actually falling… Super fast, might I add,” You hide your cheeky grin behind your glass of wine and he rolls his eyes, “You were funny and hardworking. You were a challenge in every way possible and to this day you still are. You teach me something new every single day and I really don’t know what I’d do without you, y/n.” 

Jaehyun lets go of your hand and shuffles out of his booth seat, your eyes narrow in confusion as you watch him stand beside your table. He shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out a black satin box and you get light headed. Your brain takes 10 extra seconds to process each one of his movements and the syllables coming out of his mouth as he kneels next to the table, his eyes sparkling brightly. 

“Y/n, since the first day I met you until this moment and forever into the future I have been and want to continue to be captivated by you and your endless beauty and brilliant mind. Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife? Will you marry me, y/n?” 

You know everyone in the dimly lit 5 star restaurant is turned around staring at you, waiting tensely for your answer. You don’t know when your hands came up to cover your mouth or when you decided to speak, but it didn’t matter. You nod quickly, “Yes, yes yes, a million times yes.” 

The restaurant erupted in applause as Jaehyun slid the engagement ring on your finger and you slid yourself from the booth seat in order to be wrapped up in his strong arms. He squeezes your plushness into his toned body, in a grip that is almost suffocating, but you don’t mind. He pulls away to kiss you lovingly and soon the claps and cheers die out leaving you two standing beside your table. 

“C’mon let’s go home, I already paid,” he said with a grin. You reach back to the table and chug what is left of your wine and he laughs, before dragging you out of the restaurant. 

The entire walk out to the car and the ride home you are staring at the beautiful ring on your finger, watching it glitter as it catches the light from the bustling city passing by.

“Ya like it?” Jaehyun questions, taking a quick glance at you from the driver's seat. 

“Mhm” you hum happily, a small smile on your face. 

You look over at him and the smile grows wider. He’s so handsome, one hand on the wheel, the other gripping your thigh, his gaze focused on the road. When you guys hit a red light he looks over with a devilish smirk. 

His grip on your thigh tightens, the flesh spilling out around his fingers, “Keep looking at me with all that love and I’m gonna pull this car over and take you in the backseat.” 

Your eyes widen as you sputter some type of excuse and look away, he just laughs, “Three years and you’re still just as easy to tease,” his hand moves in between where your thighs are pressed together and you automatically respond to the touch, sliding down a bit in the seat to spread them a little further apart, “and call me a crazy man, but knowing that that ring on your finger came from me and that you’re gonna be taking my last name really makes me wanna fuck you.” 

You think your eyes bug out of your head at the confession and he just laughs before retracting his hand and placing it normally again on your leg. You stare at him in bewilderment as he calmly hums along to the song on the radio like nothing had happened at all. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite how you thought it would be once you got home, it was the opposite. There was no aggressive pushing of your body up against the nearest surface or haphazard throwing of clothes, instead it was all slow, sensual kisses and roaming hands. 

Jaehyun held your hand in his as he led you through the front door of your shared home and into the bedroom. It was cheesy and romantic, the way that there were rose petals delicately covering each surface and soft lighting casting dark shadows over both of your features. 

You would have loved to ask him how he had all of this arranged, but didn’t have the chance to as his lips found your own. Pressing softly against your own, setting what would be the tone for the night, slow and full of love. He cradled your face in his large hands, leaning down to pull your face closer to his. His tongue swiping against your bottom lip as his right hand trails down to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it. Though he doesn’t apply any pressure, your breath hitches and he smiles against your mouth. His tongue slipping between your parted lips and into your mouth. He kisses you as if this is his first time being allowed to have all of you, tongue roaming around your mouth, as you do your best to put up a bit of a fight. The hand placed on your throat squeezes a little as his left hand comes down and taps your butt gently in warning. 

Jaehyun pulls away, his pupils blown out, much in the same manner as yours, and his voice deep, “Just let me take care of what’s mine tonight, m’kay, princess?” 

It isn’t really a question and you know that, so you respond with an almost nervous nod and he smirks, “Good girl,” he praises as his hands grab the soft rolls of flesh at your sides and pull you closer. His lips are once again back on yours, except this time they don’t stay as long. As he turns your bodies, his lips find their way to your jaw and then to your neck. He sucks on and nips at your throat with purpose, aiming to mark you as he backs you up to the bed.  

His dangerous lips end at your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your body, “I’m gonna take real good care of you baby,” he whispers before pulling away from you. His hands come to the bottom of your dress and he slowly pulls it up, watching with hungry eyes as your soft skin becomes visible for him. Carefully he pulls it over your head and discards it before he wraps his arms around you. His nimble and practiced fingers remove your bra leaving you in only your underwear. 

“So damn beautiful,” he all but growls as his hands come to cup your breasts. They are large and skilled, massaging as his thumbs swipe over your hardening nipples. A soft sigh leaves your mouth before he uses his own to smother all other sounds at the source. Backing you up to the bed, he pushes you down, the backs of your knees pressing up against the bed and buckling quickly. His large, muscular body towers over yours long enough for him to bask in the glory of your tiny, fleshy body.

Jaehyun abruptly climbs off of you and removes his clothes. You ogle him as he pulls of his shirt slowly, giving you a show. Next is his belt, followed by his nice fitted slacks. Finally he is left in nothing but his Versace boxer-briefs. His lip twitches as he fights to the urge to tease you for staring so brazenly, instead he kneels on the floor, at the end of the bed, and places your thick thighs over his shoulder, his face lined up with your panty covered pussy, “You’re already excited baby,” he says smugly as he drags his tongue over the visible wet spot on your crotch and your breath hitches, “Gonna make sure you get real loud for me, m’kay? Don’t hold back any of those pretty sounds, understand?” 

“Yes sir,” you pant out as his hands grab at the elastic band of your underwear and rip through it, the sound makes your eyes widen and your grip on the bed sheet tighten in anticipation. Jaehyun doesn’t keep you waiting long, dragging his tongue through your folds haphazardly, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently. The immediate pleasure surprises you and your hips jerk up. You can feel his lips curve into a smile against you before his tongue is back to lapping at your glistening folds. 

Your moans flow out freely as he pushes his tongue into your sopping hole, slurping obnoxiously. Your hands find their way to his hair as you try to bring him even closer to you, wanting more of him. Instead he pulls his tongue out of you and flicks it against your clit. A high whine leaves your lips along with pleas for more and on a night like this one, he isn’t in the business of denying you anything, so he pushes a long finger inside of you. 

All you can do is cry out his name as he nips at your clit and fucks his finger into you, “Gettin’ close, Princess? Want another one?” 

“Please, please, more,” You moan out. Jaehyun obliges, stretching you out a bit further as he adds a second finger, except this time after two pumps, he slips in another. Three fingers are stretching you open, spreading and curling, before he decides to press them against your g-spot. Almost instantly you’re seeing stars, pulling at his hair and screaming out his name as you cum all over his fingers. He keeps moving them in and out of you until your high finally dissipates. 

“You took my fingers so well pretty girl, can’t wait to watch you take my cock,” he purrs before shoving his messy fingers into his mouth one by one, cleaning them off. Your body heats at the action. 

“God, have you no shame?” You try to tease, but find your breath leaving your body as he lets your thighs fall off his broad shoulders and crawls back over you. 

One hand holds him up while the other grips harshly at your love handles, he grins, “Nope, none at all,” pressing his lips to yours chastely, “scoot back and get comfy, Princess.” 

 He climbs off of you, removing his boxers and you turn around, crawling towards the headboard. Jaehyun’s eyes can’t help but fall to the curve of your ass and the glisten of your first orgasm that still resides on your thighs. His gaze is followed by his hands, before you can lay comfortably he is squeezing at the expanse of flesh, smacking at it lightly. All he does is hum in satisfaction as his hands keep jiggling your ass. You open your mouth, but he takes it upon himself to flip you on to your back, so a small yelp leaves your lips instead and he chuckles. 

“I know I tell you this everyday, all the time, but fuck!” he exclaims and you smile, “You’re so damn perfect I don’t know what to do with myself,” he straddles you again, his fingers gently trailing over your body, “everything is just so pretty. You’re so soft. The curve of your body is captivating, I want to be touching you at every moment of every day and I’m so glad you’re mine.” 

He grabs your left hand in his own, bringing it to his face. Jaehyun kisses your palm, each finger, and then the ring, “Jung y/n, has a real nice ring to it,” his lips kiss from your wrist up the length of your arm, his hands gently resting on your plush stomach, “And after tonight, give it two weeks, and we’ll have a third member of this Jung dynasty.” 

You laugh, “Most people call it a family, y’know? And what makes you so sure there will be another member of this,” you pause and fight back another giggle, “dynasty?” 

Jaehyun smiles, but the glint in his eyes is dark, “Oh after the way I plan to fuck you, I don’t think there is anything to worry about,” his large hands rub small circles on your stomach, “There might even be two in here when I’m done,” his smirk is cocky. 

You look at him flustered and unamused, “Oh hush! That isn’t even how that works,” you murmur and break eye contact, as he laughs this time and says something about how cute you are when you get worked up. 

The intensity returns as his grip on you tightens and his mouth goes back to kissing each inch of visible skin. Pulling your thighs apart, he slots his body between them, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. His thumbs rubs slow circles on your clit until your breathing is staggered, then the same three fingers that were in you before, are pushing into you once again. Your eyes almost roll back at the sudden intrusion a loud groan falls from your lips. 

“Had to make sure this pretty little pussy of yours was still ready to take me,” he says matter-of-factly, removing his fingers and wrapping the hand around his painfully erect cock. All you do is huff in response and he smiles. Jaehyun watches your face contorted in pleasure, as he lines himself up and pushes into you. His movements are slow at first, making sure his entirety is resting inside of you, a low moan leaving him as you pulse around him. 

He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist before pulling out slowly. You aren’t even left with enough time to beg him to speed up before his hips are snapping against yours. Your eyes shoot open as you’re quickly filled with him once again. He sets a pace quickly, a slow pull out, allowing you to feel the drag of his cock, and a harsh thrust back in, making you feel so full that you swear you feel him in your throat. 

Your moans are rapidly resorting to pleasured babbling and whimpers, which fuels his ego and arousal. He soon has you all but folded in half. Your knees pressed to the sides of your head as he stuffs you full over and over again. 

“S-so good,” he stutters as you clamp around him, “You feel so fuckin’ good y/n, wanna feel you cum around me.” 

His praises are coming out in winded huffs and that makes you fulfill his desires even faster. You cum on him seconds later, but his hips never falter. 

“Pretty baby girl, takin’ me so damn well,” he says with a hint of adoration, “You look so stunning when you cream on my dick like that, can’t wait to fill you up, make you cum again so you can milk me dry.” 

Your face heats up at his words and you can’t help the lewd noises that leave you as he speeds up his thrusts, “Please gimme your--” you begin begging, being cut off only by his cock hitting the perfect place inside you. 

“Give you my what, princess?” he questions cockily, repeatedly aiming for that same spot. 

You try to answer but it all comes out jumbled and unintelligible, leaving him chuckling above you, fucking into you with an unending fervour.

“C’mon baby what did you wanna say? Want me to fuck you full of my cum, knock you up real good? Is that what you want?” 

“Please, J-Jae, Jaehyun please,” you cry out, your nails dragging across his back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake. He hisses at the slight sting, but like everything else, it only spurs him on further. 

He humps into you with obvious purpose, “I’m- fuck, I’m gettin’ close princess, gonna, gonna fill you up real nice, gonna give us a real pretty baby,” he voice is broken and labored. 

His eyes close and his hips stutter, eyebrows furrowing as a long, low groan leaves his mouth. He slams his hips into your once more as he pumps you full of his cum. You clamp down around him involuntarily at the feeling of his hot arousal filling you up. 

As his high finishes washing over him, he opens his eyes and releases the mating press he had you in, instead opting to wrap your legs back around his waist. He presses his sweat dampened forehead to your own. A content smile dusting across his soft lips.

“We gonna just stay like this?” 

“Of course we are, princess! Can’t let any of this leak out of ya, defeats the whole purpose.” 

Jaehyun carefully rolls to his side, pulling your plush body along with him, still buried to the hilt within you. 

“I think I should tell you to get used to this, as my wife you should know that I want a never ending dynasty.” 

“Stop calling it a dynasty,” you chastise and he laughs, “and maybe when you have to harbor these children for nine months and then push them out of your pee hole, we can talk.” 

Jaehyun laughs a bit louder, “Okay so maybe we will take a good break time in between children then.” 

You roll your eyes and bury your head in his chest, his hands coming to cup the back of your head as he plants a kiss on the top of your head, “Yeah, maybe.” 

#stuck in a smut #nct #nct2020 #nct127 #NCTU #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #smut #nct jaehyun #nct127 jaehyun #nctu jaehyun #nct smut #nct127 smut #nctu smut #nct2020 smut #kpop smut #soft dom!jaehyun #kpop plus size smut #kpop plus size reader #plus size #plus size reader #plus size smut #nct127 jaehyun smut #jaehyun.blooms

[bookishofalder]

Joke of a Batman

Spencer Reid x Male!Reader

Request: @meowiemari Okie dokie!!! So Spencer x male reader where the reader is the driver for the robbers. They arrested him after finding him in a gas station getting snacks. While driving in his car with Morgan, Reid, and Hotch, the reader is in the passenger seat telling them the location because he was just there for the money. Hotch and Morgan went while Spencer stays to keep an eye on him. Reader’s playlist in his car plays old Justin Bieber songs and it’s gonna be me by NSYNC. Spencer sees his embarrassment and  awkwardly sings a bit so he doesn’t feel shame. Later in absolute a few minuets the two started singing and as soon as Morgan comes back with Hotch, they both quickly turn off the playlist and exchange numbers. :)

Warnings: Swearing, implied SMUT (super brief)

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I loved writing this, and hope I you enjoy. This was my first time writing the reader as male-so please tell me if I can improve! Tried to keep reader description as vague as possible. Thank you to @mermaidxatxheart​ for encouraging me to get writing :) 

“That’ll be $11.75, please.” The bored gas station attendant droned, staring at you expectantly. You began to pull out a few bills from your wallet, ready to get home and eat your pint of ice cream in peace, but before you could count out what you needed, a voice behind you cut in.

“He’s no longer going to be making a purchase today, actually,” Spinning around in alarm, you find yourself face to face with two imposing men, one with a deep frown and overall authoritative air with his crisp suit, the other a handsome but tall and physically intimidating specimen.

With a gulp, you stuff the cash in your wallet. Who were these guys?

“Y/F/N?”

You nod as heat creeps up your neck, burning your face. Fucking Peter Robbins, you always knew, was going to be the death of you. And now it looked like your latest foray into his questionable life was going to land you in jail. These had to be cops.

You knew you should have ignored his call. You’d been telling yourself for years not to help him, he was just going to get himself in trouble again and call again, and you got nothing out of it. He used you because he knew you liked him. The two of you had been friends for years, and it didn’t take him long to realize the ways he could manipulate you because of how you felt.

It took you a lot longer to catch on to what he was doing.

But fuck, you still came running when he called, didn’t you? Like you were some joke of a Batman and he was shining his light into the sky calling for you. If only.

“That’s, yeah, that’s me.” You replied, slowly shoving your wallet into your front pocket before holding your hands in front of you in surrender. Whatever happened, you decide at this moment that you never want to see Peter again. Because giving that man a ride in hopes he’d one day say he was interested was not worth this.

“Mr. (Y/L/N), we’re placing you under arrest,” The frowning man held out his badge, showing you he was one Agent Hotchner from the fucking FBI. You tuned him out, your ears suddenly ringing, alarm shooting through you. Getting arrested was one thing, but the FBI? What in the living hell had Peter gotten into? Got you into?

He called you for a ride. It was just supposed to be a ride.

You were surprised when they didn’t cuff you, but you weren’t stupid enough to question them. They led you outside, where the gas station was quiet, only their large black SUV and your Honda Civic parked out front. You kept your eyes down, a sting threatening the corners but you were not going to cry. You needed to take this one step at a time, and not overreact. You surely didn’t fuck up that badly, did you? They’d said ‘suspicion of aiding a crime’, only suspicion.

“Listen, kid,” The bald Agent whose name you learned was Morgan turned and faced you, his expression serious. You bristled slightly at him calling you ‘kid’, but based on the crows' feet around his eyes, maybe he was older than he let on. “We know that you were just the driver today, and that you’d probably have no clue what’s going on right now.”

You raised your eyes to meet his, “Peter Robbins has ensured I fuck up my life at least once a year for nearly a decade. This is just...a new level for me.” You shrug, trying not to think of what your family was going to say when they found out. Would you lose your job?

“We’ve been watching Peter and his associates for a while now,” Agent Hotchner replied, and your brows raised in surprise. “Yes, he’s escalated from petty crimes that upset the local sheriff to armed robbery. Unfortunately, one of his partners happens to enjoy killing. Which is why we were called in.” He stops speaking abruptly when another Agent, you assume from the gun on his belt, steps around the SUV and up to your group.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. This Agent is stunningly handsome, much younger than the other two. His eyes, which met yours for only a moment before flitting away, were a soft honey brown that sucked you right in. He had a bit of a shadow along his jaw, his wavy brown hair unkempt in the best kind of way, as though he’d just rolled out of bed looking that perfect. And you could tell he didn’t even realize the power he had. Standing next to two burly, thick muscled Agents, you could understand why. But in your brief assessment of this new man, you could see the lean strength of him, the muscles of his lower arms, veins in his hands. He was tall, too, taller than either of the other men, which was saying something.

“What’s up, Reid?” Morgan asked, and the new arrival-Reid-held up his phone.

“Garcia can’t pull anything from the Honda, it’s, her words, an ancient species.” He spoke quickly, almost as though the words couldn’t find their way off of his tongue quickly enough. You tried not to fixate on his mouth, because damn it, his lips were perfect.

Absentmindedly, you crossed your arms across your chest, feeling tense and tired. When Reid’s eyes followed the movement, you felt frozen under his gaze, watching with your breath held as it dragged slowly up to your face. His expression was unreadable, yet you still felt your cheeks grow warmer.

“Listen, (Y/N), we know you don’t have any real part in Peter’s crimes. We intercepted his calls and texts, we know he asked you to pick him up today, last minute.” Agent Hotchner said, his eyes burning into yours.

You looked away from the other men, shame flooding through you. “Peter always calls, and I always answer. But I really don’t know anything about what he does, I didn't know he was even with anyone else today. He asked me to pick him up right out front of the pharmacy, that’s all.” You couldn’t help the edge to your voice, the wordless plea that they understand you had no clue what was going on. And if innocent people were dying, you would do anything you could to help them put a stop to it.

Reid tilted his head slightly as he watched you, “We’ve seen the messages, (Y/N), we know how he treats you, giving you a little, yet taking a lot,” The tears almost threaten now, so you glance away, looking at the ground as you nod, “And he doesn’t even tell you what he’s taking, the danger he’s putting you in. He’s going to go away for a long time, but you don’t have to.”

At this, your head snaps up and you look between the three men, expecting them to laugh and finally cuff you. But they all wear the same neutral expression, all watching you.

“Like I said, I don’t know much abou-“

Reid shook his head, politely interjecting, “We understand. But you know where you took him today, right?” At your nod, Reid stepped a little closer, peering down at you, “We need you to take us to him. And tell us any other addresses you can remember picking him up from or taking him to in the last year. Can you help us? You won’t be under arrest if you can give us what we need to stop Peter and the men he’s working with.”

You almost wanted to laugh. Of course, you would help, regardless of whether you were still under arrest; you had no loyalty whatsoever to Peter. You only ever showed up for him because you hoped, each time, that it would be the time he would go beyond flirting. That the feelings were mutual. But if he was committing crimes-fuck, robbing people, working with a murderer, then you were done with him.

“I can tell you addresses, and I can show where he is now, I just,” You paused, closing your eyes briefly to pull in a breath, steadying yourself, “Please, don’t hurt him, if you don’t need to, I mean.”

Reid’s eyes, which you found the moment you opened yours, visibly softened at your words. He seemed a little surprised, you thought, though it was hard to tell. He was difficult to read, and you’d only just met him. He nodded reassuringly before looking to Agent Hotchner expectantly while you waited, your insides in knots.

“(Y/N), Spencer is going to go with you in your vehicle, and we’ll be following behind. Take us as close as you can without being obvious. Reid,” He turned to the handsome agent, “We’re going to check the car first, can you-“ He gestured wordlessly in your direction, which made you frown in confusion.

Reid nodded, and you watched as the two other agents moved to search your car, while he moved toward you. “I’m going to search you for weapons, okay?” He explained, holding his hands out as if waiting for your permission.

You stared, perhaps a beat too long, at his long-fingered hands. With a shy bob of your head, you looked to Reid, “Of course, I understand.” And the agent began to pat you down as you stood awkwardly.

It wasn’t as though the action was intimate or affectionate, but for whatever reason, you did feel his touch was hesitant. He was gentle, considerate...it surprised you. And then his hands slid up your back as he stood in front of you, and you became acutely aware of the thin cotton t-shirt your wore, instantly becoming self-conscious. You wondered what he thought of you, of your body.

Mind out of the gutter, you told yourself.

It was then, when Reid leaned back, his hands sliding from your back to your chest, that time seemed to stand still, just for a moment. They moved across your stomach briefly, and as they began to pull away, the search complete, you looked up. Reid was staring at you, his cheeks flushed, eyes heavy. You caught your breath, his gaze was so intense, but before you could even try to think of what to say, he was swiftly stepping back, breaking eye contact with a heavy swallow.

You were kind of relieved. That had been almost too intense, whatever that was. The relief lasted only moments until Agent Hotchner called out that your car was good to go, and you remembered you had a twenty-minute car ride alone with the Reid.

Fuck.

+

The first few minutes of the drive are bearable enough, Spencer takes the wheel as you give him directions to the subdivision where you had dropped Peter off. It’s when the silence starts to press in, and you don’t know what to say to fill it, that things swiftly change.

Sensing the tension, no doubt, Reid reaches out to the audio power button and hits your stereo on. With an internal groan, you suddenly wish you could just jump out of the moving vehicle when the song you’d been listening to picks back up.

'Cause I've had everything But no one's listening And that's just fucking lonely I'm so lonely Lonely

You had put on a playlist you considered your ‘sad songs’ compilation for whenever you were let down by Peter or any other man. You enjoyed wallowing in self-pity for just a little while after each encounter. But now, as Justin Bieber crooned sadly, you didn't feel sad, just humiliated. You were in your car with a fiercely hot FBI agent who had given you some kind of fucking bedroom eyes just minutes ago as he pats you down, and this song plays.

Your expression must have been obvious, as you saw Reid look at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, frowning somewhat. When the song ended, you didn’t get a chance to be relieved before ‘Somebody to Love” began playing. This time, you sighed aloud, sinking somewhat into your seat and wishing you could dissolve into a pile of goo like the Wicked Witch.

Until that is, you glanced up and saw Reid’s fingers tapping gently on the steering wheel to the beat. Surprised, you looked around to the agent and he was mouthing the words, singing along with the chorus. Stunned, you just watched him for a moment, quickly finding yourself enraptured by the way his plump lips moved around the words, how his tongue would wet them between lines, how his eyes-

Fuck, he was looking right at you. You smiled quickly but looked away, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You really had much bigger, more important shit to be concerned with right now, yet here you were wondering what the hell this perfect man, this FBI agent that was far too handsome for his own good, was doing singing along with the silly song, and why the look he gave you had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Not to mention, the guilt that accompanied those thoughts, brief as they were, of what the lips would feel like on yours. What they would feel like on your body. Wrapped around your cock. Fuck.

He hadn’t said anything, but his fingers continued to tap along with the beat with ease. Eventually, when you directed him to the final turn, you chanced another glance at him. As if expecting your gaze, he turned his head and smiled at you, “I’m Spencer, by the way, Dr. Spencer Reid.” You blinked. Doctor?

“Oh, uh. Wow. Nice to meet you, Dr-“

“You can call me Spencer,” He cut in, his expression somewhat amused.

You nodded, “Nice to meet you, Spencer. Though I wish it were under different circumstances, perhaps where I wasn’t a criminal piece of shit.”

He pulled the car over, stopped at the community mailbox you had described as the perfect place to park. Once he’d turned the engine off, he turned to face you, those warm eyes giving you a gentle look. “You aren’t a criminal piece of shit, (Y/N),” Oh, you loved the way your name sounded coming from him. “I’d go as far as to say you’re a victim in all of this.”

You scoffed, waving a hand in protest, “No, I really should have known better than to help Peter.”

But Spencer shook his head, “As I said earlier, we saw the messages. He manipulates you, and he doesn’t ever tell you what he’s actually doing. He just gets you to give him rides, acts like it’s a way to hang out when really he’s using you as a cover because, in reality, you’re a law-abiding, hardworking, kind man. Men like him don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, (Y/N).”

Letting out a breath, your mind went blank at Spencer’s words, failing you entirely. You believed every word he’d said, and you felt warm all over at the intense way he watched you, it was almost...protective.

Before your mind could reboot and you could trust yourself to open your mouth and not simply drool, a tap on the window drew your eyes beyond Spencer. Agent Hotchner stood there, waiting patiently with his arms crossed.

Spencer climbed out of your car, but you stayed put, glad for a moment to close your eyes and try to steady your beating heart. After this was over, you were climbing into your bathtub and staying there for the rest of the week. Maybe the rest of the month.

“Prentiss and JJ are parked at the North end, they’re going to come with us. Can you wait here, with (Y/N), and call Garcia and have him give her the other locations?”

You heard Spencer agree and bid his fellow agents goodbye before climbing back into your car. He smiled warmly at you, and you couldn’t help but return it, your own shy and uncertain. “You heard what our task is?” He asked you, his head tilted again, watching you curiously.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. But first, can you give me your phone, please?” He held his hand out expectantly. You handed it over, first pointing it towards your face to unlock it. His fingers brushed yours when he took the phone from you, and if you hadn’t been looking at him already, you wouldn’t have believed it was intentional. But it was because at the slight contact, your eyes had widened and Spencer...Spencer had smirked.

He clicked around on your phone for a moment, hit one final button and then passed it back to you, looking satisfied. When you took it back, his phone chimed in his pocket. Confused, you peered down at your screen to see he’d added his name to your contacts and sent himself a text from your phone. Well fuck.

He was watching you with an amused expression, “Once this case is over, (Y/N), I’d love it if you would allow me to take you to dinner.”

“I, wow,” You stammered, nervously running your hair through your hair. His eyes followed your movement, and you saw a glint behind the warmth, of desire. Hunger. You didn’t think twice. “I’d love to, Spencer.” He grinned at you.

And surprising even yourself, you reached out and squeezed his hand. And when he returned the pressure and ran his thumb softly across the back of your hand, all thoughts of Peter left your mind as *NSYNC played in the background and you didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

✨Taglist: @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @snitchthewitch

#reader insert #fanfic #fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #bau x reader #bau fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #fic request #reid x reader #feedback appreciated

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-OT7

 2020 has been shit. Covid, Quarantine, tours cancelled, dreams stopped, life at a standstill. And when the boys are nominated-finally-for a Grammy, there’s nothing more you want to do than celebrate with them all, yet, you’re separated by walls and the sense of responsibility to keep them safe. And you feel as if your heart is finally breaking. However, they’re determined to see you-one way or another. 

Tags: BTS, Bangtan boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS x you, BTS x reader, Poly!BTS, boyfriend au, Kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, kim namjoon, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook, Fluff, Angst

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Title: Life Goes On

“Please, please, please.” You find yourself muttering over and over beneath your breath, like a mantra that you can’t seem to stop. 

“Nominations for Best Pop Duo/Group Performance are as follows-” 

The voice of the woman on the TV seems to be ringing in your ears, sounding as if it’s coming through a tinny phone speaker, and you swallow hard, screwing your eyes shut, as you sit at the break room table, fingers clenched into white knuckles in your lap, half eaten lunch long forgotten. 

“They’re gonna get it, (Y/N).” Tara, one of the fellow nurses, reaches across the table and squeezes your hand in her own, offering you a gentle smile, as you try to give her a weak grin back in return. 

And then, the TV sounds through the silence once more. 

“Justin Bieber, Lady GaGa, Taylor Swift-” 

You can feel your mouth drying with each name listed, and just as your heart is squeezing in your chest, and your throat is feeling as if it will close and cut off our breathing completely-

“And BTS.” 

Your mouth falls open, as cheers erupt around the break room, and Tara is shrieking beside you and clamping down on your hand, as others who you know from work are standing up to congratulate you with pats on the back and high fives. 

You feel numb. But in a good way. 

“They did it.” You say breathlessly, voice hitching on a sudden emotional laugh, as you stand up from the table and hurriedly wipe at the tears that are pooling in the corner of your eyes. “I have to make a phone call.” You say to Tara, who waves you off with a knowing look, and an expression that says she’ll take care of the floor till you get back. 

Barging into the women’s bathroom, you utter a hasty apology to a patron who is almost hit by the door, and ignoring her blatant glare, lock yourself into the end stall, fingers shaking as you struggle to click on Namjoon’s contact information. 

He’ll be the one who is most likely to have his phone on him at this hour. 

You tap your foot on the tile, impatiently listening to the ringing in your ear, as you wait for him to pick up, glancing down at the watch you wear on your wrist. 

It’s 3 AM, but surely, they haven’t gone to bed right after the announcement. 

Not after this. 

“Hello??” Namjoon’s voice sounds in your ear, breathless and excited and loud, and you instantly feel your heart squeeze at the sound. 

“Hi!” You manage to push a smile onto your face, and clutch the phone tighter to your ear, as you adjust our seat on the cold lid of the toilet. Your fingers claw desperately at the speaker next to your ear, as if you can will yourself through the phone and beside them. “You did it! You guys did it, Joonie!” 

“Hold on! I’m putting you on speaker.” There is the rustle of hasty fingers pressing buttons, and then Namjoon’s voice, slightly distant now, comes back in your ear. “Can you hear us, jagi?” 

“Yes!” You laugh, and choke slightly on the tears that are suddenly making an overwhelming lump in your throat. “Who’s there? Tell me please?” 

“Me, noona!” Jungkook’s voice is loud in your ear, and you hold the speaker away a bit, a grin lighting up your features at how incredibly alive he sounds in this moment. You can practically envision him jumping up and down while he talks hurriedly over the noise of the other boys. “Did you watch? Did you see? We got the nomination!” 

“I know, Kook!” You laugh, and the sound is watery, which you hope doesn’t translate through the phone, as you reach up to wipe across your nose with the back of your hand, the tears leaking over and streaming down your cheeks now in warm drips. “I saw. I’m so proud of you, baby boy.” 

“I’m here too, baby girl.” Jimin’s warm, soft tones fill your ear now, softer than his brother’s, but no less excited, and you bite down hard on your bottom lip, as a wave of missing him comes over you unexpectedly. “I can’t believe that we did it.” 

“I can.” You respond firmly, the waver leaving your tone for just a moment, as your fingers clench around the phone. “I can one hundred percent believe it, Jiminie.” 

“Taehyung didn’t even react to the nomination.” Namjoon sounds over the phone once more, laughter in his voice, and then you hear the solid sound of someone pushing him aside, as he laughs loudly, the phone sounds becoming fuzzy for a moment. 

Then Taehyung’s voice, loud and clear and defensive, echoes in your ear. “Yah! I was caught off guard, that’s all! I was in shock!” 

“Understandable.” You laugh once more, and the quiver is back, as the lump in your throat grows, as you hear them laughing and teasing one another, without you. Again. “I’m so proud of you guys. I love you. And-” You take in a deep, shaky breath, before you reach up to wipe away a sudden flood of tears with the palm of your free hand. “I wish I could be there to celebrate with you.” 

“Shit, don’t cry, jagi.” Namjoon is back, and you hear shushing in the background, before his voice is loud and clear once more. “We didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“No, no!” You wave your hand in the solitude of the empty bathroom stall, and pull your knees up to your chest, as you fight for breath through the sudden tears clogging your chest and throat. You manage to laugh, though it comes through as more of a half strangled sob. “You didn’t. I’m sorry. I just miss you guys. That’s all.” 

“We miss you too, sweetheart.” Taehyung’s voice is low and serious, and you can imagine the worry in his dark eyes. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening, signalling that you’re no longer alone, has you rising to your feet, brushing at the tears that continue to fall. 

“Okay. I have to go.” You sniff loudly once more, and reach for a wad of toilet paper to wipe your face. “I’ll call you all once I’m off shift. But remember-” You put your lips close to the speaker, and close your eyes, imagining their faces. “I’m so so proud of you. And I love you guys.” 

********

“Did you get to talk to Yoongi?” Your roommate looks up from stirring the ramen she is making for dinner, and offers you a curious look, as you sit at the kitchen table, eyes still puffy from the nap you had just taken after getting off your shift. 

“Yeah.” You yawn, stifling the action with a hand, and your throat and mouth feel raw from all the crying you’ve been doing, and from being exhausted. “He and Hobi and Jin called me on the drive home. They had all fallen asleep.” 

“Ah.” Your roommate grins at you, waving the large slotted spoon in your direction. “That’s cute.” She raises an eyebrow at you. “Did Yoongi cry?” 

“Yes.” You laugh, and the sound is slightly melancholy. “I think we all cried together for the first like ten minutes of the phone call.” 

Turning off the stove, she hands you a bowl of steaming ramen, sitting across the table from you, before she says softly, “You really miss them, huh?” 

“Yeah.” You sigh heavily, stirring the food around, not feeling much like eating, as your heart once again aches in your chest for the millionth time that day. “I hate being apart from them. I wanna celebrate with them, and see them after I get off work, and be in the same bed again. I don’t sleep well when I’m alone.” You laugh, and glance at her sheepishly. “I sound pathetic, don’t I?” 

“You are pathetic.” Your roommate grins. “But I bet they miss you just as much.” 

Your phone, buzzing loudly on the table, distracts you from the conversation, and flipping it over to see the lit up screen, a thin smile spreads across your lips, as you glance over at her and say, “Speak of the devil.” 

Pushing aside the bowl of still steaming ramen, you pick up the call, and before he can say anything, you greet him excitedly, “Is this Grammy Nominated Min Yoongi I’m speaking to?” 

There is a slightly amused chuckle from the other end of the phone, but when he speaks, his voice is hoarse and quiet, as if he’s just woken up from a deep sleep, “Hey, baby.” 

You are suddenly worried, and fiddling with the chopsticks in front of you, your roommate shooting you a questioning look, you angle your body away from her and ask carefully, “Yoongs, you sound tired. Are you okay? Did you just finish therapy? Make sure you’re drinking plenty of water and resting.” 

“Shit, baby. I’m fine.” Yoongi interjects, and his voice holds a tone of exasperated bemusement at your worrying. “I didn’t call to talk about me. I have a surprise for you.” 

You try to think of what he could be referring to. Yoongi was in Daegu. Had he sent you something? Something to be delivered? You felt excitement and curiosity, and a hint of confusion, start to gather in your stomach. 

“What are you talking about?” You ask, standing from the table, already headed toward the front door of the apartment. You hadn’t heard anyone knock, but maybe you had missed it? 

“You should go out on your balcony.” Yoongi’s voice fades for a moment, as if the phone has moved from his mouth, and then he’s back again, and his voice sounds slightly less exhausted than before. 

“Why?” You stop in your tracks, and spinning on your heel, head back through the kitchen, as your roommate watches you curiously, toward the living room and the sliding doors that lead out to the balcony. “Seriously, Min Yoongi, if this is some sort of joke-” 

Yoongi laughs, and you can practically picture his bright gummy smile flashing. “Trust me, baby. I’d never do that to you.” 

Letting out a grunt as you push open the one side of the sliding door that always stick, you step out onto the balcony, instantly shivering in the chilly Seoul air, and holding the phone between your shoulder and chin, so you can wrap your arms around your body for warmth, you ask suspiciously, “Okay, I’m outside. Now what?” 

“Now look down.” 

Wait, why did his voice sound so close? So lifelike? As if it weren’t being transmitted from hundreds of miles away through the tinny speakers of two cellphones? What the hell-

You almost drop the phone out of your hand in shock when you step to the balcony railing and see the surprise Yoongi has been referencing-in the form of seven very tangible, and very real, grinning faces, staring up at you from the grass of the apartment courtyard. 

“What-” You gasp out, letting your phone slip into your pocket, because your hands are shaking so much right now, you’re afraid you’ll drop it anyway. “What are you all doing here?” 

Taehyung grins boxily up at you, hands hidden deep into the pockets of his long overcoat, his breath fogging the air, dark hair covered by a beanie. “We wanted to celebrate with you.” 

Your eyes rove over them, and you put a hand up to your mouth as you catch sight of Yoongi, arm in a sling, gums on pink display. He gives you a little wave with his free hand. “Surprise?” 

“You’re here too!” You lean onto the railing for support, leaning farther to take in the vision of them, drinking in their smiles and their faces and their mere presence. “You’re all here! I don’t understand.” 

“We can’t be with you yet,” Jimin jumps in, cocking his head, blonde hair falling into his eyes as he looks up at you affectionately. “But we can see you, at least from a distance. And we wanted to let you know, in person, that we miss you, baby girl.” 

“I miss you too.” You breathe out, warm tears starting to well in the corner of your eyes once more. “But-” You gasp, and wave your arm at them, gesturing to them one by one. “You guys did it! You got a grammy!” 

Namjoon chuckles, and he shifts from one foot to the other in the cold, making you realize that you have barged outside without a jacket and shoes, and you’re slowly starting to feel numb. “Not yet we didn’t, jagi. But with a little luck we will.” He winks at you. 

“Yah.” Jin throws his arm around Namjoon’s shoulders and shouts up to you, his loud voice naturally carrying to the balcony. “Don’t ruin the moment with logic, Namjoon!” 

“I was sleeping and missed it!” Hobi announces, rolling his eyes, before he motions to you and then to his face. “But when I got up, I cried! I couldn’t believe it!” 

You feel warmer just having his sunshine smile shine up to you, and looking down at the seven boys, you don’t even feel the cold anymore. You’re just glad they’re here. 

“Noona, were you excited?” Jungkook chimes in, his dark eyes barely visible beneath long bangs and a pulled down beanie, hands stuffed into the pockets of his puffy winter coat. He dances from foot to foot, as if he can’t stay still. “Did you watch it at work?” 

“Yes!” You laugh, hands gripping the icy railing, as you grin down at Jungkook. “I was on break, and when the news broke, everyone cheered for you guys!” 

“Like this?” Taehyung asks with another grin, before he starts whooping loudly and pumping his fist in the air, each yell echoing off the empty courtyard. 

You laugh, you can’t help it, as they all join their brother, shouting and calling in triumphant, making fools of themselves just to see you smile-Yoongi even joins in. 

“What is all the ruckus out here?” Your roommate appears at your elbow, her tone stern, but a teasing smile on her lips, as she leans over the railing beside you and stares down at the boys. “Will you guys shut up?” 

“Haven’t you heard?!” Taehyung crows out, shooting her a wink. “We’re grammy nominated artists!” 

“I heard, I heard.” She grins now, and slinging an arm around your shoulders, calls down to the boys, “I haven’t stopped hearing about it. (Y/N) never stops talking about you guys, you know.” 

“We know.” Jimin looks smug, and you feel a blush come across your cheeks, as you elbow your roommate in the side. “We never stop talking about her either.” 

“Gross.” Your roommate makes a face and leaves your side, headed back into the warmth of the apartment. 

You sit there for another moment, basking in the joy of simply being able to see them in person after so long, and then leaning once more out over the railing, as far as you can go, hands cold and body numb, you shout out over the courtyard as loudly as possible, for all to hear, “My boyfriends are Grammy nominated, bitches! Did you hear that? GRAMMY NOMINATED!” 

Yoongi and Namjoon look suitably embarrassed, as the rest of the boys once again start crowing out their achievements, and you can’t help the grin that goes across your face as you watch them-your boys. 

2020 had been shit. 

But they made it all worth it. 

And it was only onward and upward from here. 

Together. 

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan seonyandan #bulletproof boy scouts #beyond the scene #bts drabble #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fiction #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts text #bts text post #quarantine #2020 #fluff #angst #magicshopnet #purplearmynet #bts fluff #bts angst #ot7 #kim seokjin #bangtanarmynet

[nnnnnjkkhf]

the experiment | kth ft. pjm

◇ kim taehyung x reader ft. pjm

◇ smut; slight angst  | E2L!au | poolparty!au

◇ word count: 4.3 k

NSFW CONTENT | 18+

notes: this is my first ever fanfic, so i apologize if you think something is wrong. pls don’t hate me <3

warnings: soft dom!taehyung, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (m&f receiving), masturbation, protected sex, public fingering (wHOOPS)

summary:  one of your group mates for research was giving you a hard time just because he was always annoyed by you and the attention the boys are giving you, but you don’t know that.

 —

“Ding!” a message from Jungkook popped on the top of your screen while searching for the list of equipments you needed for the experiment. Shit, you mentally cursed. You looked up, and everyone in your group was staring at you.

“Why the hell are you texting when we are still discussing the things we need for this research?” Kim Taehyung snapped. Yes, snapped. This guy was giving you a headache ever since you’ve been classmates this school year. He hates you and you don’t even know the reason why. Jeongha, one of the girls in your group, smirked. 

“Maybe one of her boys is texting her for booty calls.” you glared at her. 

“Maybe you're just jealous that no one’s texting you.” you said, mimicking her facial expressions.

“Shut up, ___. I was asking you why you are texting when we’re discussing our experiment.” Taehyung said out of irritation. This guy. He doesn’t even know if I was really texting or not! I need to kick Jeon's ass later for texting me when he knows I’ll be in an important group meeting!

“Well, one of my boys needs me. If you’re done talking, maybe I can leave?” You didn’t wait for his response and started to walk away from the group. He is so annoying. I’ll just send my part to Ji-eun later, so I won’t need to interact with Taehyung. He’s getting on my nerves. You opened Jungkook’s message to check what was so important for him to message you during a group discussion. 

[1:48 pm] assjeon: “___! I got an invitation to Jimin’s pool party tonight. I know you won’t say no since you’re basically crushing on him since freshman year.”

[1:55 pm] you: “Who said I was crushing on him? I’m in love!”

[1:56 pm]  assjeon: “You? In love? Who are you kidding? The party will start at 7 pm, so I’ll pick you up later.” 

[1:57 pm] you: “Okay, dad, I got it.”

Good thing his message wasn’t that bad and you really needed it. Jungkook was your best friend since high school, so he knows you well enough to judge if you’re in love or not. Of course, I was kidding but damn, who could ever resist THE Park Jimin? He’s a walking meal for Pete’s sake! His ass looks so good. Any girl would say yes when talking to him. You still had enough time before the pool party so you went to Starbucks to get your favorite drink and went home to take a nap in your flat. 

—

You closed your laptop after sending Ji-eun the list of equipment you researched earlier before leaving the group meeting. If Taehyung wasn’t being an asshole, you would’ve already finished working on it earlier. 

It was already 7 pm, and you noticed Jungkook already went inside your flat. He had an extra key in case of an emergency. You got up and picked up the two different bikinis in your bed.

“Which one should I wear? Black or red?” You tried to put the bikini over your oversized shirt and asked Jungkook to choose your bikini outfit for the party. 

“If you wanna seduce Jimin wearing a bikini, I think you should go for the red one. It will suit your curves well.” He said while sipping his iced coffee. He already saw you naked because of one accident wherein your towel accidentally dropped on the floor while the two of you were dancing to the beat of your favorite song. He was flustered, but then he started laughing, so you guessed he didn’t care about it. It happened about a year ago, so you don’t care about it now.

“Okay. I’m almost done. Go start the car now or something, I’ll head out after this.” You said while packing some extra clothes in your canvas bag. He nodded and left your flat after leaving his drink on the table. What a jerk, leaving his mess for me to clean up after. Am I his mom or something? 

  —

 The drive to Jimin’s house went smoothly because Jungkook was a safe driver. There were already many people and some of your mutual friends since you arrived a bit late when you went inside. 

“___! Here!” Ji-eun called for you. She was seated on a couch with a group of people who you’re not familiar with except one, Taehyung. He’s with his guy friends, Seokjin and Yoongi. Why was he here though? Oh right, he’s Jimin’s best friend, and he lives here too. How could you forget? Isn’t it ironic how you would want Jimin to fuck the shit out of me but hate the nerves of his best friend?

“Hey, Ji-eun! You’re here early. How did the meeting go earlier?” You sat beside her and across Taehyung. He was looking at your figure, and his face screamed in disgust or so you thought. You felt insulted. Most of the guys you’ve encountered admire you because they think you’re pretty and hot, but unfortunately, Taehyung isn’t one of them. You focused your attention on Ji-eun since she was responding to your question. 

“Oh God, don’t even talk about it. Taehyung ended the meeting after you left because he was pissed. Don’t worry about it. Let’s go dance!” pissed? Of course, he was pissed. You literally told him that one of your boys needed you while having a meeting. On second thought, he deserved it. He accused you of texting during the discussion where i fact you were focusing on your tasks.

You went to the crowd with Ji-eun to dance. The party was a blast. After a while, you bumped into Jungkook while he’s grinding his hips to the girl he’s dancing with. 

“That’s gross, Jeon.” You whispered to his ear before you continued dancing. “You’re just bitter because Jimin’s talking to a girl, which is not you.” He said and smirked.

 You stopped dancing and scanned your eyes across the room to look for your crush, but instead of him, you locked eyes with Taehyung, who was drinking his liquor on the other side of the room. He was looking at you intensely, and you thought it was hot. Damn, I must be crazy. If he weren’t annoying the shit out of you, you would totally have the hots for him. He smirked. You broke the staring contest first and rolled your eyes, continuing the search for your beloved Park Jimin. There he was, talking to the girl who pissed you off earlier, Jeongha. 

“Ji-eun, I’ll get a drink for myself. You can stay here,” you said, and she just nodded as approval.

Jeongha was obviously into him because she kept on touching Jimin’s arms. Disgusting. Siri, please play that should be me by Justin Bieber. You mentally rolled your eyes and walked over to them, bumping into her on purpose. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were there. By the way, I heard your boyfriend looking all over the place for you.” You said while smiling innocently. You knew this bitch doesn’t have a boyfriend but you lied so Jimin would stop talking to her.

“Bitch! I have no-” Jimin cut off her sentence. 

“Wait—you have a boyfriend, yet you still kept on flirting with me? Get lost, girl.” He said and pushed her away. You smiled secretly like an agent who completed her mission. Jeongha glared at you and walked away.

“So, ____, do you have a boyfriend?” You slightly jumped because you thought Jimin’s going to walk away too, but he didn’t, and he started a conversation between you two! He even knows your name! 

“I’m not really into relationships.” True enough, you weren’t interested in dating—just plain sex.

“That’s good to hear, babe. Let me get you a drink. What do you want?” He smirked. 

“Surprise me.” He winked at you and went to the kitchen to get you a drink. Someone grabbed your arm. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” It was Taehyung. He looked pissed. Why does he look pissed every time he’s talking to me? 

“Why do you care?” You asked him back and shot him a glare. 

“Of course, I care. One second you were grinding your ass with the guy in the dance floor, and now you’re flirting with my best friend!” Taehyung’s mind went ballistic. His mind tells him that he’s just jealous because he’s not the one you’re flirting with, but he’s in denial of his feelings for you. 

“Damn. He’s old enough to take care of himself, you moron. And for the record, the guy on the dance floor was my best friend. Stop annoying me and get out of my sight.” you hissed. Did he think I was flirting with Jungkook? I treat Kook like my twin, and now he’s telling me I was grinding my ass on him? Gross.

 “Oh, you two know each other?” Jimin handed you a red cup with some sort of alcohol in it. 

“No.” both of you answered at the same time. Jimin laughed and just shrugged it off.

“Tae, this is ___, and ___, this is Tae, my best friend.” the hell I care, I already know about that. You just smirked and drank every bit of alcohol you had in your cup. You forgot you had a low tolerance with alcohol. “I wanna go for a swim. Do you mind?” you told Jimin. 

“I’ll go with you. Come with us, Tae.” why did he even invite Taehyung to go with you? You wanted to leave because things are starting to get awkward. Didn’t he notice the tension?

You started walking towards the outdoor pool and placed your things on the sun lounger. The two guys began to take their shirt off, and you were staring at Tae’s abs. Before he start to notice you, you look away and focused on Jimin instead.

“Like what you see, baby?” he smirked. Damn, he’s hot, and he’s confident about it! Of course he should be. Look at all those girls on the side, drooling over his body. Taehyung dragged him to the side of the pool and pushed him. Both of you were laughing because of Jimin’s reaction. 

“Aren’t you going to swim?” Taehyung said and jumped to the pool, not waiting for your response. You forgot what you were supposed to do because you saw Taehyung’s back while he was jumping, and he looked so damn hot. 

“Damn, I must be drunk,” you whispered to yourself. The water splashing to your legs made you shiver. It was cold. 

“What are you waiting for, kitten?” you didn’t hear the last word he said but you saw his lips while saying the word. kitten? What the hell, Taehyung? You slowly take off your oversized tee and shorts, attracting the attention of two men and other people who were near you, revealing your red bikini and your curves. “Damn,” Taehyung thought. Jimin whistled while eyeing you up and down and forced you to jump to his side. 

 After jumping, you rose and felt someone holding your waist. It was Jimin. He pulled you closer and went for a kiss. ”Is this okay?” He asked in between kisses. You responded by placing your arms on his neck and kissing him deeper. Jimin’s fingers slowly traced the inside of your thigh as they slowly traveled up the soft skin. A shiver went down your spine as you realized what was happening.” Jimin,” you said breathily, trying to close your legs. 

He merely tsked and pried your legs apart with his strong hands. “I know you want it, baby,” he whispered in your ear. Your head was thrown back as he reached his destination, slowly pushing a finger inside you. You look over Jimin’s shoulder and saw Taehyung’s back leaving the pool. Guilt suddenly washed over your face as you realized the both of you were with Taehyung, and you were in public. 

 “Wait, stop,” you said, holding Jimin’s arm while he was starting to thrust his fingers in and out of you. “What’s the matter, babe? Don’t you like it?” he asked. You liked it, but it felt wrong. “We’re in public, Chim. Maybe I should go swim for a bit.” he was flustered, but he didn’t stop you. He nodded,” Okay then. I’ll just go for a drink.”

You went over to the other side of the pool and observed the people surrounding you. They were busy and having fun enough for them not to notice what you were doing with Jimin. You’ve always wanted Jimin to notice and touch you, but right now, you feel like something’s wrong. 

You got out of the pool and caught some guys looking at your ass. Jungkook was walking towards you and when he got near you, he helped you put on a robe.

“What’s up? Jimin told me to give this to you. He didn’t look that happy.” he said while drinking from a bottle.

“I don’t know, Kook. I just don’t feel like fucking right now.” he was surprised but he didn’t say anything. Who wouldn’t? Even you were surprised. Your main goal when you went to this party was to get laid. What changed your mind? Moreover, who? You didn’t care about how Jimin would feel because you knew there were plenty of girls he could screw over. Besides, this is his party. 

That’s when everything got back to you. Kitten. That look in his eyes. Was it Taehyung? He left the pool without a word when he saw his best friend trying to finger-fuck you in the pool. Was he affected? Stupid, of course he’s not. He was just protective of his best friend because he said you were flirting with everyone and he obviously didn’t want his friend to get hurt. 

“Do you want to go home?” Jungkook said while clinging into your arms like a baby. “Let me go otherwise, you’ll get wet. And yes, I’ll go home. You can just stay here and look for girls to screw.” you said, grabbing your clothes from the chair beside the pool. “You sure?” he asked, and you nodded. “Alright, should I inform everyone that the queen is leaving the party?” he laughed out loud, making some heads look over the both of you, while you smacked his head, smiling.

You went to look for the bathroom on the second floor of the house because the first-floor bathroom was taken by some people making out. To your surprise, someone grabbed you and pushed you inside a room.

“What the hell?!” to stop you from screaming, he covered your mouth with his lips. His scent was very familiar, but you didn’t respond to the kiss. He stopped when he realized you weren’t going to react and rested his forehead against your shoulder. The room was dark, and only the moonlight from the window was the light source, so you can’t see anything but his silhouette. No way.

“Taehyung?” he didn’t respond. You were starting to feel butterflies in your stomach. The only person ever who made you feel like this. Crap. Why is he doing this? Were my thoughts earlier real? Was he really jealous? 

“Stop making me feel like shit, ____,” he said in a husky voice. He smelled and tasted like alcohol, so you figured that he was somewhat drunk. “What d-do you mean?” you responded. He moved his face away from you.

“It’s nothing. J-just leave me alone.” did you hear him right? leave him alone? “You basically dragged me into this room, kissed me, and now you’re asking me to leave? Who do you think you are?” he’s such a jerk! He didn’t answer your question but instead, he pulled you closer for a hug. You felt stiff, and you can’t even push him away. He’s making you mad, at the same time, driving you crazy. 

“I-I,” he sighs knowingly. 

“You’re what? Do you think this is some kind of a game?” you slightly pushed him to break the hug. “You treat me like shit whenever you get the chance, and now you act like a jealous boyfriend? What game are you playi—”  

“I like you!” He cut you off.

There was a moment of silence.

“You l-like me?” wow. I’m lost for words. All he did was get on my nerves, and now he’s confessing his feelings for me? “I liked you ever since. I was jealous because all you do was entertain and date guys that aren’t me! What do they have that I don’t?”

You honestly don’t know what to respond to him. You feel so overwhelmed. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing went out of it. Taehyung looked rejected and was about to leave when you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. It’s all or nothing.

“I kind of like you too, Tae.” and with that, he took off your robe and placed his big hands on your ass to carry you without breaking the kiss. He pinned you to the wall and started kissing your jaw down to your neck, leaving soft marks on it. Small whimpers went out of your mouth as your core clenched around nothing when you felt his erection poking your stomach. 

“Tae,” you heavily breathe as he continues to kiss down your collarbone. 

“Tae, please,”

“Please, what, kitten? What do you want?” he said, slowly dropping you back on your feet. “I need you,” you moaned as he slid his finger down your bikini top and cleavage down to your stomach. You helped him by removing the bikini effortlessly. He sucked your left mound while playing with the other one. An arousal-laced gasp falls from your lips as his hands drop to your inner thighs. 

 “Do you think you deserve me? After letting my best friend kiss and touch you like that? With me around?” his fingers hook under the fabric of your underwear, and he quickly slides them down your thighs.

“I’m sorry, please, I won’t do it again. I want you now, Tae.” 

“Will you be a good girl for me?” you nodded. “I need to hear you say it, kitten.” he looked at you before slowly kneeling so he can be eye to eye level with your pussy.

“Yes, daddy. I’ll be a good girl.”

After a swift glance up at your eyes, he leans between your thighs and drags his warm tongue against your clit. The feeling is almost like heaven on earth. His lips are soft, but sinful against your cunt. It’s not every day you receive oral sex this good, especially not from your oh-so-called-enemy. Taehyung’s right-hand finds comfort gripping your hip while his left-hand cups the flesh of your inner thigh. He lifts your leg to give him a better access for his tongue to enter you. 

“Can other guys eat you out and pleasure you like this? Hmm?” he said and continued what he’s doing. 

“No, baby. No one is as good as you. Fuck, I’m close.” 

You encourage yourself to be vocal to let Taehyung know that he’s making you feel great. When his tongue glides over the perfect area, you tighten your grip on his hair and emit a soft but loud moan. He’s listening to your vocals and then skillfully dragging his tongue against your most sensitive areas. You looked down at him and saw his erection. It looks painful.

You can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this. Even more intriguing to you, who taught him this. As his palms run along your soft skin, you notice the texture of his hands, slightly calloused and large, too. If he wanted to, he could probably crush you. All this daydreaming has you accelerating closer to your climax, so you quickly tug on his hair and pull away from his mouth. His lips and chin are slick with your arousal. 

You make it your next move to crawl onto the bed. As you turn to face him, he crashes his lips against yours and guides your almost-bare back to his sheets. The smell of his manly perfume floods your senses. Your tongues greet each other with passion, and the pure intensity of the kiss has you hot and unbothered. He breaks the kiss for a brief moment to tug his shirt over his head and pulls his jeans down along with his boxers. His muscles are well-defined and flex as he leans over to kiss you.

You’re both aware you need to prepare before taking his cock; otherwise, it’ll split you in half. He sank a single finger on your pussy, and you moaned loud enough for him to hear. 

“I bet Jimin didn’t even make you feel like this, huh. You’re such a slut. This cunt is fucking mine now, you hear me?”

His knuckle stimulates your clit as he gently fucks you with his digit. You wrap your thighs around his torso as he adds another finger. There’s a slight warmth from the stretch, but the pleasure almost drowns it out.

“All yours, Tae. Please, just fuck me already,” you playfully grin.

He got up and went to get something out of his wallet. He rolled the condom over his dick and slowly stroked it up and down. Damn, he looks so fucking hot. “Are you ready for me, baby?” you nodded. He’s so big. Will that even fit?

He wastes no more time. With a swift adjustment of his body, he positions his cock against your entrance and slowly sinks inch by inch. You dig your nails into the flesh of his back and emit a strangled moan. 

He sighs at the feeling. “God, baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

“Oh, my fucking..” You gasped. ”T-taehyung.”

Just when you thought he couldn’t reach any deeper, he pushed back your thigh and sank deeper. You pulled his chest against yours and rolled your hips, signaling him to start his sinful movements. His thrust had your back arching and your thighs shaking like never before. 

As you go in for another kiss, you take his tongue between your teeth and suck on the muscle, emitting a startled moan from his throat. His hips stutter slightly at the foreign gesture. He grips the headboard as he fucks you with all his might. He’s been dreaming about this moment since the dawn of time, so he’s going to make the most of it. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. He’s hitting deep and in all the right areas. 

A deep moan falls from his lips, and then another. He can’t seem to contain himself, but you’d be a fool to complain. His shaky breath and pretty moans are drawing you closer to your orgasm. 

A few more strokes of his hips and you’re moaning loud enough and coming around his cock. He follows closely behind, holding the entirety of his length inside of you and reaching his climax. The pressure is unbearably pleasurable. 

He lay down beside you as the both of you continued panting. “Did I do great, kitten?” he said as he made you turn to him and pulled you closer, kissing the top of your forehead. “Yes, Tae. The best sex I’ve ever had.” you grinned and cuddled him. You can’t believe that the guy who you thought hates you made love with you.

 —

 The sunlight woke you up from your deep sleep. You glanced over and realized you were not in your room. It’s a manly room. You guessed it was Tae’s. Oh, right. Memories from last night clouded your mind, and you blushed. Taehyung was not inside the room, so you figured he’s already downstairs. You checked your phone on the table beside the bed and saw two missed calls and three messages from Jungkook.

 [11:23 pm] assjeon: Hey, where are you? Did you get home safely? 

[12:02 am] assjeon: Bitch, reply asap. Are you home? 

[8:09 am] assjeon: Fucking ____. I swear I will kill you if you hurt yourself or whatever you stupid bitch.

His messages made you laugh. He’s acting like a mad brother. The latest text from him was just twenty minutes ago. You called him, and he answered right after.

 assjeon: where the hell are you, and why didn’t you go home last night?!

you: chill, dude. I’m still here where you left me.

assjeon: by that, do you mean you’re still in Chim’s house?

you: well, obviously. 

assjeon: thought you wanted to go home because you weren’t in the mood for sex last night. What happened?

you: well, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time, kook. Have to go!

assjeon: you better do! Take care of yourself. Love you!

you: love you too.

Call ended.

“We had sex last night, and the first thing you do in the morning is call another guy?” you stopped scrolling through your phone and looked up. Taehyung was standing there while holding a glass of milk. Cute, you thought. 

“Good morning to you, too. Are you jealous of Jeon? He’s basically like a brother to me! Thank you for the milk.” you said, smiling and walking towards him to reach the glass of milk. You noticed you were wearing your undies and an oversized shirt. Taehyung dressed you up while you were sleeping, and you felt those butterflies in your stomach again. 

He held your waist and pulled you closer so he could leave a kiss on your forehead, and you giggled. “I’m not jealous of him. Just the attention you’re giving him. Good morning, baby girl.” 

You gave him a peck on his lips. What a great way to start the morning. 

End.

a/n: Thank you for reading my first work ever. Do you want a part 2? 

taglist: @strwberryvmin​ @bonnyskies​ @hannahmaehudgins​ @adoringinsanity​

#kimtaehyung #parkjimin #jeonjungkook #btssmut #btsvsmut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #bangtansmut #bts fanfic au #bts au #bts enemies to lovers #taehyung dom #bts fanfiction

[raulfernandez]

can you tell me about K-pop?

i know nothing and i'm curious

Do you know that tiktok audio with the "I've waited years to tell somebody about my theories"? That was me right now, thank you very much :DDDD

Ok so this is kinda hard because kpop is like just the industry. It's basically pop music but in a different language, Korean. There are mostly groups, boygroups and girlgroups. There is one kinda famous "co-ed group" tho and one that disbanded.

Every group consists of multiple members, they perform as a group and mostly live together. Some groups have so called "Sub-units" which are like a group consisting of some members of that group, but not all of them. Some of them also get solo careers, but to that later.

Then we got entertainments. They are the companies which groups work for. Most of the entertainments form the groups by putting trainees together (it's kinda like an academy I guess. You get scouted, train at the entertainment and might eventually be part of a group). The "big 3" aka the most famous entertainments are JYP, YG and SM.

That's why Bts was kinda surprising, their entertainment (Bighit) wasn't popular at all back in 2013, but now they are probably the one with the most money (Justin Bieber is also under Bighit in some weird way)

Bts are obviously the most popular group I'm pretty sure you've heard atleast one song of them (dynamite) and blackpink are the most popular girlgroup (which I honestly don't understand but that's something for another time).

Some other popular boygroups: Exo, Nct, SHINee, Stray Kids, Txt, Ateez, The Boyz, Enhypen

Some other popular girlgroups: Twice, Mamaamoo, Loona, Itzy, G-idle, -Iz*one (I don't knoe to many cause am a bg stan lol)

The most complicated group to understand is probably Nct, cause they are 23 members, divided in 3 units rn (127, Dream and WayV (their Chinese unit) but two of their members aren't in a fixed unit yet and they had NCT 2020 last year where all 23 of them did some songs together. Then they also got Nct U which is a unit that always has different members everytime they release something.

The only fully selfmade group currently is Stray Kids (and I pride myself on that). Their leader Bangchan picked the members himself, his handwriting is their logo and they write and produce their songs themselves.

Then there's K-bands. They are basically like the groups but without the dance because they play the instruments. The most famous one is without a doubt Day6 (everybody loves them and they are called "The nations band"). Some others are: The Rose, N.flying, Onewe, Lucy, IZ, Eden

The last thing I can think of rn are Soloists, basically solo artists aka like every western artist, just a single person. The most famous ones are probably: some girls I can't remember, HyunA and DAWN, (they are a duo now aswell, but before she did solo stuff and he was in a group and then did solo), CL (the first female idol to attend the met gala btw), Kang Daniel, and some idols who are part of groups also have a solo carreer aswell (Baekhyun, Kai, Taemin, the blackpink members, some Red Velvet members aswell)

There is also a thing called "Isaacs" (I have no clue how to spell it lol) which is a sports competition where many groups compete against eachother in different categories like archery, sprint, etc...

That's like the main things I can think of right now but if there's anything you'd want me to be specific about please tell cause I have fun explaining it :D

#maria's #I really hope this wasn't too much 👉👈

[hannibard]

I recently got second hole earrings and it inspired me to write this!

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Read on ao3

“Do I really have to do this?” Geralt asked as he got inside his ex-girlfriends car.

“Yes.” Yennefer answered without looking at him before turning the engine on and exiting the parking.

“Hm. Can’t I just buy you a meal instead?”

“No.”

“What about one of those unicorn dildos you wanted?”

“Tempting but still no.”

Geralt sighed and raised his hand to run it through his hair before remembering that it’s up in a bun and doing so would ruin it, so he placed it back on his lap instead.

Yennefer rolled her eyes.

“Can you maybe chill a bit? You’re the one who bet that you could eat 80 hotdogs in a row without puking and you agreed that if you lost you’d get your ears pierced.” She said, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. “A deal’s a deal, you can’t just back out now.”

Geralt let out a frustrated grunt. “In my defense I was wasted at the time, but I know.”

“Then stop being a little bitch. What are you even worried about anyways? Don’t tell me you’re scared. It doesn’t hurt much, you’re barely gonna feel it.” 

“Fuck no Yenn. I don’t mind a bit of pain, you know that.”

Yennefer turned to wink at him. “That I do.”

They were both silent for a moment as they reminisce some of the better parts of their previous romantic entanglement.

Yennefer cleared her throat and asked again. “Then what’s the fucking problem?”

“I just… I’m not sure how earrings would look on me.”

Yennefer hummed and Geralt chuckled softly. “That’s my line.”

Yennefer laughed but then turned serious. “…I personally think they’d look very sexy on you and fit with your general rocker/bordering on too much leather vibe but if you really don’t want to do this then I can find another equally torturous way for you to settle this bet but without any permanent changes to your appearance.”

Geralt was somewhat shocked to see her yield this easily but he probably shouldn’t have been. He knew how good of a person she was underneath her cold exterior and he also knew that even though things didn’t work out between them she still cared a great deal about him, the same way he still cared about her. It’s the reason they became such good friends after their inevitable separation, and she would never push him to do something outside of his boundaries. 

He smiled softly even though she can’t see it with her eyes on the road.

 “It’s fine. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

 …

 They arrived at the piercing/tattoo parlor soon after, Yennefer telling Geralt about a new sushi restaurant she and her girlfriend, Renfri, went to last weekend as they enter the building. They walked up to the counter where a clerk with shoulder-length curly chestnut hair was waiting to assist them. “Hello and welcome to ‘Yellow Lotus Body Art’, my name’s Triss. Do you have an appointment?”

Yennefer nodded.

Triss smiled politely. “Great, could you please give me a name?”

“Geralt Rivia.” 

“Oh, for the ear piercings right? Please wait a moment while I go check if Jaskier’s ready.” She said before disappearing behind a door.

Geralt side-eyed his friend. “You made the appointment in my name?”

“You’re the one requesting their services so isn’t it natural?”

Geralt was about to reply with something snarky when suddenly the backdoor opened and the most attractive guy Geralt had ever laid eyes on walked out.

 He was a little bit younger than him, maybe in his mid-twenties and he had short brown hair in a teen Justin Bieber type hairstyle, that while long out of fashion looked really good on him and gorgeous cornflower blue eyes that seemed to look right into his soul. 

He was wearing an oversized dress shirt with wide pink and white stripes which was messily tucked into his skinny ripped jeans that were folded at the bottom. Several of the buttons at the top of the shirt were left unbuttoned, revealing pale skin covered with a thick patch of chest hair that made Geralt’s mouth go dry.

For shoes he was sporting a pair of brown leather oxford boots that were short enough to show his ridiculous SpongeBob patterned socks. He had various jewelry on, such as a black choker and a simple silver necklace around his neck, rings on his fingers and also several piercings on his ears as well as his nose, eyebrows and one single silver stud on his chin and his arms and collarbone were covered in tattoos depicting yellow flowers (buttercups maybe? Geralt wasn’t sure), music notes and many other random designs. Last but not least, wrapped around his wrist was a bracelet with the bisexual flag on which Geralt was especially happy to see and it made his heart soar with hope.

The man looked at both Yennefer and Geralt up and down with a glint in his eye and grinned widely. “Hello there! I’m Julian but everyone calls me Jaskier. I do both piercings and tattoos here and I’m very happy to make your acquaintance.” He clapped his hands together. “So! Which one of you is Geralt?”

The pair gave him a dry look, or at least Yennefer did because Geralt’s was closer to smitten more than anything else.

“What? I didn’t want to make any assumptions.” Jaskier said sheepishly and bit his lower lip. Geralt’s eyes were immediately drawn to the gesture.

Yennefer leaned on the counter and nodded towards her ex with a roll of her eyes. “It’s him.”

“Perfect! Please follow me.” Jaskier said and led them down a hallway and inside a room. There was a tattoo chair in the middle and the younger man motioned for Geralt to sit on it.

“Triss mentioned that it’s your first time getting a piercing correct?” Jaskier asked while putting on some plastic gloves.

“Yeah.” Geralt answered and avoided eye contact trying to not stare at the guy too much, something which was proving to be quite hard.

Jaskier sighed and looked up dreamily. 

“I remember when I first had my ears pierced.” He said and started taking various small packages out from a drawer and arranging them neatly in a surgical stand next to Geralt’s chair.

“I was in middle school and the guy I liked at the time had earrings so I asked him where he got them just to start a conversation and he told me and then offered to come with me if I ever wanted to try it out so of course I said yes and after I did it I became obsessed with piercings so here I am today.”

Yennefer snorted from the doorway where she was standing with her arms crossed. “Wait, so you basically just did it for some guy?” she asked in a judgmental tone which Geralt was confused about since she literally brought him here for an even stupider reason.

Jaskier just chuckled unoffended. “Not just some guy! I lost my virginity to him not long after.” He said and started opening the packages and taking various metal tools out of them. “And I’d blame it on the fact that I was a teenager at the time but even now when I fall in love it’s always fast.” He turned and winked at Geralt. “And hard.”

Geralt’s eyes widened and he blushed. He cleared his throat trying to feign nonchalance “Hm. That doesn’t really sound fun honestly.”

Jaskier made a thoughtful sound. “Sometimes it is and other times it isn’t I guess. Depends on how the other party will respond.”

He seemed to want to say more on the subject, but he was done with the preparations and he had no reason to stall. “Before we start, I must inform you that all the tools I’m gonna use have been sterilized and sealed in those packages you saw earlier to avoid infection so you don’t have to worry about that.”

He picked up a marker and came close to Geralt to mark the place where the holes on his ears would be made. Once he was done he held a mirror in front of his client. “Is this ok?”

The older man just nodded and Jaskier put the mirror back.

 “Have you thought about what sort of earrings you’d like?”

Geralt had in fact not thought about this at all. “Not really.” He answered honestly.

“Whoa seriously? How do you even come to a place like this without deciding that first?”

“…I lost a bet.” Geralt grumbled while Yennefer laughed.

“Well I’ll have your friend here tell me all about it while you go back to the counter and choose something with Triss. Come on now, off you go!” Jaskier said and kicked him out of the room.

Geralt was worried that his newfound crush was more interested in his ex-girlfriend than him so he wasn’t really paying attention to what Triss was saying, basically letting her pick the first thing she suggested before hurriedly making his way back to the room.

As he got closer, he could hear Jaskier’s beautiful laugh and he quickened his pacing. He was about to open the door when the question the tattoo artist asked Yennefer stopped him dead in his tracks.

“So are you guys together or…?”

“No no, we’re just friends currently. Tried the whole relationship thing out long ago and it didn’t work out. Though I must inform you that I’m dating someone else at the moment but Geralt’s single if you wanna shoot your shot.” 

“I just might.” Jaskier was saying as Geralt re-entered the room. 

Two pair of eyes looked back at him and the piercer shot him a charming smile. “Welcome back big guy! Come here and show me what you’ve chosen.”

Geralt handed him the earrings and sat back down. 

“Black studs huh? Not a bad choice for your first time.” He said and picked up something that looked like scissors, leaning over Geralt.

“You ready?” he asked and Geralt took a deep breath which was the wrong thing to do because his lungs filled with Jaskier’s scent and it was intoxicating. If he had to use words to describe it he’d say it was a pleasant mix of lavender and something citrusy with a hint of sweat coming through as well. 

His heart started beating faster and he looked at Yennefer all panicked. She just raised an eyebrow in return. “What? Need me to hold your hand or something?” 

Geralt growled and looked back at Jaskier. “Just get it over with.”

Jaskier shrugged and got to work. It stung a bit, but it didn’t bother Geralt in the slightest. He actually barely noticed it with Jaskier’s close proximity and the sound of his gentle humming as he worked being all he could thing about.

After he was done, Jaskier picked up a few cotton swabs and poured some sort of clear liquid over them before using them to wipe at Geralt’s ears.

“All done!” He said after stepping back to admire his work. He gave Geralt the mirror from previously to look at the earrings himself as Yennefer came over as well.

Geralt was pleasantly surprised to note that he really liked what he saw. They were very noticeable with his hair being white and all but they didn’t make him look any less masculine as he secretly feared. Plus, they fit quite nicely with his all-black outfit that consisted of black jeans, black combat boots, a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket.

Yennefer whistled appreciatively. “I don’t know about you but I love them.”

Geralt shook his head. “No no, I feel the same way. Thanks for convincing me to do this.” He turned to Jaskier who was smiling back at him. “And thank you for everything.” 

“Just doing my job.” He said in a sing song voice and turned around, bending down to rummage through one of the lower drawers and giving Geralt a very nice view of his ass. His shirt rode up as well, making the tramp stamp of a dragonfly he had tattooed on his lower back visible and Geralt felt himself getting hotter by the second.

Yennefer noticed him looking and smirked but didn’t comment.

Jaskier stood back up and handed him a piece of paper and a small card. He pointed at the paper. “This one has instructions on what to do after you go home, though the gist of it is clean the holes with a cotton swab drenched in saline solution two to three times every day for 2 months and then you’d be able to take those earrings off and try on others.”

He then pointed at the card. “And this is the warranty for the black studs.” He said and took the gloves off, throwing them in a trash can.

“If you somehow happen to lose them, come by and we’ll just redo the process ok?” 

“Yes.” Geralt answered and cursed himself for his bad social skills. How does he keep the conversation going?

“Oh, and I also think I should give you my personal number, y’know, just in case something happens.” Jaskier added and looked up at him expectantly.

Geralt was quick to take the chance that was given to him. “I’d like that.”

Jaskier beamed at him relieved. He took back the paper and quickly scribbled his number down before handing it to him. “Have a nice day Geralt. And Yennefer too.”

“I’m honored you remembered me. Come on Geralt, let’s go pay.” Geralt smiled and gave Jaskier a small wave as he was dragged outside by his ex.

“Goodbye Jaskier.”

#geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #geraskier #the witcher #fanfiction #text #mine #julian alfred pankratz #gerlion #dandelion #geralt x jaskier #my writing