summary: You’re a studious university student, Jungkook is a hot barista. Pretty straightforward, right? Nope, not when you spend all your time playing the Sims instead of studying, and Jungkook is the crush you're convinced will never like you back.
warnings: this is E for Everyone, sweet caramel frappucchino fluffy fluff, maybe a sprinkle of secondhand embarrassment, y/n has relationship anxiety
word count: 10k
They say the amount of effort you put into something directly determines how much you get out of it. At least that’s what your advisor tells you every month you visit him, begging for direction. But your advisor is beyond done with life, and you? You’re a college student. Worse, you’re a college student majoring in anthropology.
Justifying the student loans to your parents was bad enough. You were undeclared for your first two years, and after one (1) cultural anthro course that you chose for an easy A elective, you signed the paperwork.
“That’s it. You’re an anthropology major!” Your advisor told you with a smile.
It sounds alright. You like people. You like culture. It’s not as heavy on the reading as history or literature, and it’s not as heavy on the math as science and engineering (your parents were real bummed when you dropped Engineering 101 a week in).
Maybe it was just the pressure to have everything decided by the end of your second year. Either way, you’re set. You’re not sure if you even like anthro anymore, to be honest, but you chalk that up to being in the spring semester of your third year of university.
You know you should be figuring out your life (you’re almost a senior!) or at least working on the 8 page paper for your Advanced Gender and Migration course that’s due in a week. Still, you feel no remorse as you sit in your favorite coffee shop, hunched over your laptop with your headphones in, like all the other diligent students in here, playing the Sims.
All of your essays for that class are just rants about gender inequality anyways, and your professor passes you with flying colors. Fine, make it flying color, singular. It’s still passing.
“One vanilla latte and one strawberry danish for Y/N!”
Before you get up to grab your order, you close your laptop on instinct. It’s a short walk to the counter, but you take your time, allowing the others waiting for their orders to leave. You tell yourself it’s because you’re polite, and you don’t like to swarm the counter.
Jungkook turns around and greets you at the counter with a smile that you return warmly.
Yeah, it’s definitely because you’re polite.
“What are you working on?” He asks. “You were really concentrating just now.”
You were concentrating, but it was on adding a new wing to your Sim’s mansion.
“Just an essay,” you say.
“Sorry to take you out of the zone, but you can’t forget to eat, okay?” He hands you your danish and your coffee. He’s got this little smile on his face, and it makes you grin like a fool.
“Okay.” You nod and take a bite out of the danish as proof that you’re listening, and it prompts a laugh from the barista.
Jungkook leans over the counter a little further. “Hey, Y/N, I was thinking…”
“Yeah?”
“Well—”
“No one’s paying you to chat up the customers, Kook!” Hoseok wacks Jungkook in the head from behind as he fetches a new bottle of chocolate syrup. “Go get me the new box of toffee syrup from the back. You’re the only one who can lift those anyway.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, but another stern look from Hoseok has him straightening his posture and waving goodbye to you. When he makes his way into the back room to grab something or the other, you make a point to glare at Hoseok.
“You didn’t have to scare him away, Hobi,” You complain.
“More like you’re gonna scare him away,” Hoseok says, and your glare fades to resignation at the knowing look in his eyes. “We just hired the kid a month ago. At least let him earn enough to buy one of his textbooks.”
“Who says I’m gonna scare him away?”
“Your goat laugh does.”
You take a sip from your drink. “You’re snappy today, Hoseok.”
“Thank you for the observation,” he says, eyes on the drink he’s mixing. “If you really cared, you’d tip me more.”
“You still owe me for that time you stole my donut holes.”
“That’s what you get for buying a bag of donut holes.”
You scoff, but you know it’s all friendly banter. You wave him a farewell before taking your food back to your table. Hoseok sends a dazzling smile your way, and you can’t help but forgive him for the goat laugh comment. You and Hoseok have become good friends in the year or so that you’ve been coming to Cafe O’ Lay.
It was the day you moved into your apartment in your second year. Even though you have two lovely roommates (Jin and Jieun always have your back), your apartment is a lot different from the dorms that you lived in during your first year of university. Cafe O’ Lay is just down the street from your apartment, and since then, it’s become your safe haven.
You were there for hours on end during finals season, your highlighters shoved between multiple (emptied) mugs of coffee. You were also there when it wasn’t finals season, on those calm afternoons where it was calm enough for you to chat with the employees.
You’re a regular. The employees at Cafe O’ Lay will even save you a strawberry danish on the days you usually visit. Some are even nice enough to let you use their employee discount once in a while (thanks, Hoseok).
This semester has been a little...different though. It’s all the same, for the most part. You still visit the shop every other afternoon after your classes, you still sit at your table by the window, and you get your latte and danish (sometimes just tea to spare yourself the sugar). There are only two differences this semester.
The first one is that you haven’t actually been doing any homework. You can’t even blame it on senioritis since you’re still a measly junior, but you might as well. At this point, you’re going to class every day with nothing in your bag but your laptop, your wallet, and a pen you found on the floor.
You honestly don’t get it. How can you spend hours each week at Cafe O’ Lay that are supposed to be fully dedicated to getting your assignments done and somehow still come home with nearly all of it left to do? Where does the time go?
You open your laptop, and the screen lights up with the Sims.
That’s it. That’s what you’ve been doing instead.
You’ve created a Sim version of yourself that you live vicariously through. No, it’s NOT sad or pathetic. No one can convince you that the Sims wasn’t created for this exact purpose.
Your Sim is amazing. You named her Y/N so you wouldn’t get too carried away, but she’s got clothes worth more Simoleons than you make dollars in a month at your part-time job as a secretary in the science building on campus. Your Sim is a successful actress, which is what you wanted to be after you starred in your grade school’s showing of Annie. Too bad your talent for theater at age 8 didn’t carry over to age 21.
Sim Y/N is everything good about you—she’s creative, funny, and outgoing—minus the emotional baggage and poor work ethic.
Jin found out about your Sim fantasyland one fateful afternoon when Cafe O’ Lay was closed, and he never lets you live it down. He says it’s his duty as your best friend to balance his love for you with a healthy amount of mockery.
It’s not your fault for getting lost in this alternate universe fantasy you created for yourself. Things are just better in the Sims. You call it coping and leave it at that.
And that brings us to the second difference in your life since the semester began: Jeon Jungkook. He’s apparently a junior just like you, a fact you found out from Hoseok and Google before you worked up the courage to ask him yourself. It’s not that he’s intimidating—how could he be, with his shining eyes and chirpy “Welcome to Cafe O’ Lay”—but it still took you a solid week before you were able to say more than “Hi. One small caramel macchiato and a strawberry danish please.”
You don’t have a crush on him, despite what your nosy roommates and Hoseok seem to think. You’re simply curious about him—that’s all. And who could blame you? Your eyes drift over to his form behind the counter, hauling boxes of syrup out of the backroom. He’s wearing his usual barista outfit: a stained apron over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Yum,” you all but sigh.
The girl sitting at the table next to yours looks up at you. Apparently it was louder than you thought. You hold your danish up and wave it at her.
“I highly recommend these!”
She lets her gaze linger for another painfully awkward moment before turning back to her laptop.
It’s like your mind is a whiteboard, your thoughts are the scribbles on it, and Jeon Jungkook is the fateful eraser. The only thing that saves you is your Sim, who set her kitchen on fire while trying to cook eggs. You exhale before bringing the danish to your mouth. At least you and her have more in common than just a name.
“Hey, Y/N!”
You look up from the Sims camping extension, instinctually slamming your laptop closed.
“You don’t have to do that. I already know that you’re playing the Sims.” Hoseok scoffs at your guilty expression before setting down a steaming mug in front of you.
You grin at him. “Oh? What’s this for?”
“Bribery.” Hoseok shoves his hands in the pockets of his apron. “Come to the open mic tonight.”
“Hmm.” You pretend to think about it, lifting the mug to take a sip.
“C’mon, please? I know it’s not your scene, but if there’s only 3 people there, I’m going to cry.”
“The 3 people being…?”
“Me, Namjoon, and Yoongi,” he says, not without a grumble.
“So your roommates? Who have no choice in the matter?”
“You don’t have to rub it in.”
You purse your lips. “I dunno. After what happened last time-”
“We all agreed to never force you to sing in public again,” He says with a strained smile.
“It was humiliating.” You stare into the tea Hoseok made you, trying and failing to suppress memories of Hoseok’s last open mic he hosted at Cafe O’ Lay.
Your friends all pressured you to sing a song. Jin even announced to the crowd that you’d had plenty of practice singing in the shower. Unfortunately, your short-lived musical theater days were well behind you, and it’s now one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. You’re sure your voice cracked at least 5 times, even if your friends assured you that it was angelic.
Your bad memories aside, it’s a nice event, where plenty of students gather to perform or speak. But hosting one now, mid-semester, when everyone’s starting to feel burned out? It’s either going to be a hit or an entire flop.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Hoseok reassures you.
“It was,” you deadpan.
He only chuckles in response, scratching at the back of his head. “Look, Y/N, I am promising you right now that you can just sit back and have a fun time watching everyone else. It’s no big deal. I’ll even bring you that overpriced gelato that you love.”
You look at him curiously, your interest piqued. “The lavender honey flavor?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t know, Hoseok…” You trail off.
“Jungkook will be there.”
Your eyes widen above your mug, and Hoseok’s smile relaxes into something much more smug. He’s got you, and he knows it.
Goddamnit.
“What? Why would that matter?” You fix your eyes back on your tea.
“Whatever, maybe it doesn’t,” He shrugs. “But he’ll be there. You know, if you wanna flirt with him sometime when he’s not working.”
“Shut up,” you say, swatting at him. He only takes a step away from your flailing hand and laughs.
You have priorities, you tell yourself. Essay to do, people to call, money to make, Sims to manage. Your priorities have always been a little fucked up though, and you’re never more sure of it after hearing the next words fly out of your mouth.
“I’ll be there.”
Hoseok cheers, earning both of you rude looks from other people studying in the cafe. “Great! Bring your friends!”
You don’t want to bring your friends. You really don’t. It’s not that you don’t adore them, but they have an intolerable urge to embarrass you in front of anyone and everyone.
“Y/N,” a sing-song voice calls from behind you.
Seokjin is on your bed, face smooshed against your heart-shaped pillow. His dark hair is fanned out on it, and he frowns when you ignore him. You can see him flailing around through your mirror, but you still refuse to turn around.
“No.”
“I don’t like that color on you.”
You frown at the orange jumpsuit you chose. “Who asked you?”
“You did,” he says. “You came home and said, and I quote, ‘Jin, please help me choose something to wear in front of the hot barista. I’m a fashion disaster, and I could really use your keen eye and lovely personality.’”
“I did NOT say that.” You turn around and fall onto the bed next to him.
“It’s okay, honey.” He pats your head like you’re a lost puppy. You hate how nice it feels. “I could see it in your eyes.”
You both lay on your crumpled duvet in silence for a moment. The sun is setting outside your window, reminding you of the time.
“Should I really change out of the orange?” You ask.
“Duh.” Jin stretches out his hands and sits up like a zombie. “Hurry up though.”
He runs a hand through his hair, dusts off his pastel pink hoodie, and checks himself out in the mirror before leaving. Unbelievable.
“Are you not gonna change?” You call.
“Nope.” He pops the “p” sound and grins at you. “I don’t need to. You, on the other hand.”
You throw your heart-shaped pillow at him, but he closes the door before it can hit him.
“Hoseok’s done it again.”
You think it would sound more flattering if it wasn’t Hoseok talking about himself in third person.
Something about the night has completely changed the cozy hole-in-the-wall cafe you’re used to seeing. The cafe is decked out in fairy lights that your friends ooh and ahh at in support. Hoseok beams at them, and you figure the least you could do is compliment is hard work.
The lights glow and change colors with the ebb and flow of the crowd in the cafe. There’s a decent turn out, and the sparkling lights and chilly air draw in more people to enjoy a cup of tea and live entertainment. It’s not like a club, where you feel smothered by the people packed against each other. People are sprawled around the cafe, mingling with each other and sipping drinks.
“See, I told you that you’d like it,” Hoseok says. His grin is almost too smug.
You roll your eyes. “It hasn’t even started, Hoseok.”
“Yeah, yeah. The sign up sheet is in the front. Stay away from it, please.”
He grins at you again before leaving you with Jin and Jieun at a nice table towards the back. You’re fine being in the back, and you’re fine staying away from the sign up sheet. You almost want to sing again, just to spite Hoseok. It says something about your friendship with Jin that he has the same thought.
“Let’s do a duet, Y/N,” he urges you, leaning over your shoulder. “It’ll drive Hoseok insane.”
He cackles right in your ear.
“We can do that without publicly humiliating ourselves,” you say.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Jin asks, bemused.
“She can’t be fun tonight, Jin,” Jieun says from the other side of the table. “That barista she has a crush on is here, remember?”
“Oh, right. Lame.”
“I’m right here.” You try to appear angry at your friends’ insults, but you’re preoccupied looking for Jungkook. You spot his familiar head of dark hair near the front, talking to Hoseok. “And I don’t have a crush. It’s just casual intrigue.”
“Ugh, I can’t watch this anymore.” Jin is gone before you can turn your head back to him. You figure he’s off to talk to some of his other friends who are around or maybe to run Hoseok up the wall. In ordinary Seokjin fashion, you expect him to circle back to your table once his social battery runs out. You give him an hour.
With one friend gone, you turn to Jieun.
“Which one is he, Y/N?” She stands on her tiptoes to see over the people that begin to gather around the stage area. “Which one’s Jungkook?”
“You’re so loud.”
“You’re so stubborn.”
“Shut up, someone’s starting to speak.”
Hoseok introduces the open mic, reminding everyone to sign up and perform.
“Welcome, everyone! This is the first open mic of the year—yes, I know it’s April—and if tonight goes well, I hope we’ll be able to have more of these. There’s a sign up sheet going around if you want to perform. If you don’t, that’s okay too!” He lingers on you when he says that, and you resist the urge to hide.
Hoseok pats the stool at the center of the stage. “If you need any help setting up, me and the boys are right here.” He gestures behind him at Jungkook and Taehyung, another barista who usually works mornings. “Let’s get this party started!”
Everyone applauds and whoops, and you can’t help but join in on the fun.
The first one to go is the lovely Park Jimin. You know him from your part time job as a secretary in the science library. Jimin’s actually in science, unlike yourself, and he has bailed you out of answering scientific questions from students many, many times.
After Jimin sings a song that has the entire room swooning, someone else goes up to the mic and performs a slam poetry piece. You pointedly ignore Seokjin’s lecherous grin from the front, and you ignore Jungkook too. Jieun brings you coffee at some point, and the two of you enjoy the show.
In between acts, she leans over to you, and you rest your head on her shoulder. Friendship is what really matters, right?
“Y/N, hey,” she whispers. “What’s your plan of action?”
You straighten immediately. “What do you mean?”
“Well, sitting here and watching people sing is great and all. But you keep glancing over at Jungkook, and he keeps glancing here at you.”
“You’re just imagining things. Besides, I’m not going to leave you here.”
Jieun shifts in her seat beside you, and you can read the expression on her face like it’s the front page headline: Guilt.
“Listen, Y/N, don’t look now, but there’s a girl near the plant over there—I said, DON’T LOOK—who’s been checking me out.”
She’s right. The girl by the plant is cute, and considering the heart eyes she’s been sending Jieun, your friend’s going to get lucky. The guilty look, the girl by the plant, it’s all coming together.
“This wasn’t even about Jungkook,” you hiss. “You just wanted to get rid of me so you could invite plant girl over here.”
Jieun’s lowered eyes confirm your theory. “I see it as a win-win.”
If you thought Jieun was going to be any more supportive than Jin, you were sorely mistaken. Whatever happened to girl power? Women empowering each other? What happened to feminism?
When you voice your thoughts, she just laughs at you, a soft tinkling sound that’s 100% more melodic than your singing. “I’ll have you know I’m all for feminism, Y/N. I love women. In fact, I love women so much, I want to go over there and empower that girl over there.”
“Empowering and gay sex aren’t synonymous.”
“Says who?” And with that, she’s gone. So much for bringing friends.
You sigh, turning your attention back to the performer. It’s a student who you don’t recognize, but she’s singing a song while strumming an acoustic guitar. Her voice cracks—just once—and you swear you almost get flashbacks to the last open mic. You shudder, downing the rest of your coffee.
“Are you sitting alone?” Jungkook slides into the chair that Jieun left empty. He’s wearing a black hoodie over ripped jeans, and the minute he sits down, he begins absently drumming his fingers over his thighs.
You shrug. “I wasn’t at first, but my friends abandoned me.”
“Well, I’m here now,” he says. “I won’t abandon you.”
Your cheeks heat up, and you silently thank Hoseok for investing in color-changing lighting. At least the blue lighting doesn’t make it as obvious how flustered you are.
“At least, not yet,” Jungkook adds, a little sheepish.
You give him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
“I’m up next, I think.” He gestures at the girl singing in the front and lowers his voice to avoid disrupting the performance. It seems like she’s nearly at the end of her song, and she hits a high note that elicits whoops from the crowds.
“Oh, you’re going to perform? What are you gonna do?” You ask. You spot Jieun at the other side of the cafe, next to the girl she abandoned you for. She makes eye contact with you and winks before turning back to the mysterious stranger.
“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” Jungkook says. The lights change from blue to purple, casting colorful shadows on his face.
You lean forward, eyes sparkling. “Let me guess, you’re secretly a ventriloquist.”
“Damn, you got me. It was supposed to be a surprise.” He smiles, teeth and all, and your heart stops for a second. “What about you? Are you going to do something?”
You bark out a laugh, and you thank the applause in the room for covering up how loud it was. “Hell, no.”
“Sad. I wanted to see you sing.”
You freeze. “What?”
“Hobi mentioned that you sang last time. It’s a shame I never got to see it.” Jungkook smiles sweetly, and you can tell he’s being sincere. Poor, misguided Jungkook. You thank the universe that he wasn’t around for your traumatic singing at the last open mic. It’s bad enough that Hoseok and Jin would sing the same song around you to tease you, but if Jungkook had seen it? You wouldn’t be able to face him again.
“No, it’s really not. I’m not very good.” You scratch at the back of your head, not knowing what to do with your hands now that your coffee mug is empty.
“I’m sure that’s not-”
“Jungkook, get your ass over here!” Hoseok calls from the front. The girl who had been singing is putting her guitar away, and Hoseok waves Jungkook over for his performance. Jungkook’s face creases with panic for a fleeting moment before relaxing again.
Jungkook stands up, looking stressed, and you grab his arm for a moment.
“Hey, you’re gonna do great,” you tell him, and you mean it. “Puppet or not.”
He smiles, his eyes crinkling into smiles of their own. If only he knew how that smile turns you into putty in his hands.
As Jungkook and Hoseok arrange the stool and mic for him, you lean back in your chair. You were joking about the ventriloquy, but you wouldn’t put it past Jungkook. He’s odd, in an endearing and hilarious way. You know he’s artistic, if his experimental coffee art on your caramel macchiatos was anything to go off of. You never took him for a performer though, what with his shy personality and the way he blushes his head when you pay him a well-deserved compliment.
He settles on the stool, the lights shifting to an orange that makes him all but glow. Looking at him now, you can see it. He sits with confident posture and a slight tilt to his mouth as he surveys the audience. His eyes meet yours, and the ends of his mouth curl into a smile.
“Hi, everyone,” he says into the mic, waving a hand. “I’m Jungkook, and I’ll be singing a song I wrote. It’s called Still With You.”
There is a light pause before the music begins. It’s soft music that seems to fill the cafe with soft blue light when the colors change yet again, reminding you of a warm summer rain. The audience goes “oooh,” and you can’t help but join in. It’s already beautiful, relaxing, and freeing all at once.
Then, Jungkook begins to sing.
You don’t expect it. You definitely should have. His speaking voice is already beautiful; you should’ve expected him to be an amazing singer. There’s just something special about watching him, eyes closed, fully immersed in the music, singing with a voice that is as golden as 24 carat gold jewelry or maybe the sun itself.
“Might wanna close your mouth,” someone murmurs beside you, and you whip your head around to see Jin sitting beside you again. “A bug might fly in there.”
You don’t reply, you simply turn your attention back on the beautiful man on stage and pretend he’s serenading you on a rainy summer night.
It’s not just you. By the end of the song, the whole cafe is swooning and applauding Jungkook with a vigor he seems unaccustomed to. He blushes and ducks his head down to hide the ear-splitting grin on his face. He catches your eye when he looks back up, and the satisfied look in his eyes is your second reminder to close your mouth. You manage a grin at him, and his smile only grows wider.
“Thank you for listening,” he says into the mic.
A few boys swarm Jungkook, Hoseok among them, and you assume those are his friends. You take a deep breath and swivel on your chair to face the table. Jin is already looking at you, chin resting on his palm.
“I see it now,” he says with an infuriatingly knowing smile.
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying,” he continues, despite your grumbles. “I get it.”
Jieun takes the moment to insert herself back into the conversation. “Who can get it?”
“Jungkook.” Jin says. Jieun doesn’t recognize the name and stares blankly at the two of you until he explains further. “The barista Y/N has a boner for. We literally had a whole conversation about him before.”
You bury your face in your hands. “Why would you say it like that?”
Jin shrugs. “It’s true.”
You can’t stop thinking about Jungkook. It’s interfering with your ability to pay attention in lectures, your focus when you’re writing your essays, and even the health of your sims. Even when you’re sitting in the cafe with a coffee, danish, and The Sims in front of you, your head keeps looking over at the counter and searching for the familiar dark head of hair.
“Are you whipped or what?”
“Huh?” You turn your head away from Jungkook. Jin’s sitting across the table from you since you’re supposed to study together on Tuesdays.
“You didn’t even notice me speaking to you because you keep staring at Jungkook.” He looks a little miffed, but it’s nothing a little attention won’t fix.
“Aw, are you upset that I ignored you?” You taunt, drawing your index finger down your cheek in a fake tear motion. “I’m so sorry, Jin. How could I?”
“That wasn’t my point,” he says, although he looks assuaged. “What I meant is that, you keep looking over there for a certain someone, and that makes me think that you have certain feelings for this certain someone.”
“I don’t speak riddles, sorry,” you say, eyes focusing back onto your screen where your Sim is talking to her Sim boyfriend. You know exactly what Seokjin is talking about, but that doesn’t mean you can’t pretend you don’t. For starters, it’s hilarious to play dumb with Jin. You love to see how annoyed he can get, how red his ears will turn.
“Fine. Let’s talk about your massive, pathetic boner for Jungkook the barista.”
Oof. To hear it said so plainly...it hurt a little bit.
“That was rough.” You look back up at Jin, and he lolls his head in the palm of his hand. “You can’t even be gentle with your best friend?”
“No.” The lack of hesitation makes you snort.
“Okay, well, I suppose I’ve been feeling like,” you begin to say, watching the interest pique in Jin’s eyes, “like maybe there’s a small chance that I’m a little bit infatuated with Jungkook.”
“Oh, a confession!” Jin straightens up and slams his palms onto the table, making your cup of coffee tremble. “I didn’t expect you to cave so soon!”
“It’s not a confession! Besides, you saw him sing. No one in that room escaped without delusional feelings for that boy. He’s insane.”
“Maybe you should tell him that.”
“And why would I ever do that? I like it here, Jin. I’m not gonna ruin my favorite spot just because of a stupid schoolgirl crush.”
“I dunno, I think the feeling’s mutual.” Jin snags a bite from your danish before you can swat his hand away.
“You don’t know that.”
“I have a feeling.”
“A feeling isn’t enough.”
Jin sighs. “You always do this, Y/N. You always have to wait until you’re 110% sure about something before you take a risk, and you end up losing the opportunity.”
“Sue me for being cautious–!”
“It’s not cautious, it’s self-sabotage!”
“Are you guys doing okay over here?”
You and Jin turn your heads to the intruding voice at the same time, and the shock on your faces is almost comical. In comparison to Jin’s sky-rocketing brows and wide eyes, you look like a fish, all but gaping at the barista who stands near your table.
“I heard you two having an argument, and I just wanted to check if everything’s alright,” Jungkook says, shifting on his feet. He fiddles with the ties on his apron, absently rolling them into balls and unrolling them in his fingers. You can’t help but be hypnotized by the motion.
“We’re fine, thanks,” Jin replies pleasantly. “I’m just helping Y/N get through one of her many issues.”
Jungkook has an eyebrow. “What issues?”
You blanch. Jin gives you a smug look, and you return it with one that’s nothing short of pleading.
“Nothing! No issues!” You assure Jungkook, coughing to cover up how shrill you sound. “You know me and Jin, the besties we are, always playing around. Sometimes I think we’ve been besties for far, far too long.”
Jin clears his throat. “It’s true. Y/N would be lost without me.”
You shove your elbow into his side, and when Jin tries to do the same to you, you grab his elbow. He lets out a frustrated noise. Jungkook stares curiously at the two of you, before his eyes light up.
“You guys remind me of myself and my older brothers.” His eyes are warm and affectionate. “We were always fighting, but it’s out of a place of love.”
Why is it that everything about Jungkook makes you feel warm, your chest a hot air balloon rising up and up and up? He proceeds to tell you about all of the antics he and his 2 older brothers get up to, all the pranks they pull on each other, and all you can do is admire him. Here he is, telling you about the time he covered the toilet seat with plastic wrap and videotaped his brother pissing on it, and all you can do is think about what a fun and lovely person he is.
Jin offers some of his own anecdotes from your past—fortunately not any embarrassing ones—before Hoseok is calling Jungkook back and scolding him for “fraternizing with the customers.” As if both Hoseok and Jungkook don’t already loiter around your table to chat every time you’re here.
The silence after Jungkook leaves is so thick, you think if you stuck your hand out in the air in front of you, it’d get stuck.
Jin steals the last piece of your danish while you take a sip of your lukewarm coffee. He chews thoughtfully before speaking. “He’s perfect.”
You nod miserably. “I know.”
With your undeniable crush on Jungkook, you think maybe you’ve been neglecting your Sim’s mental health and wellbeing. It might be insane to say so, but you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness for Sim Y/N. While you’ve been daydreaming about a certain hot barista, she’s lost her job as an actress (because she set the coffee machine on fire, ironically enough) and her Sim boyfriend left her at the altar. Or rather, he was kidnapped by aliens the night before their wedding, but either way, your Sim is going through a rough patch.
You check the time—it’s still afternoon. You have plenty of time before you have to write your next essay, this one about cultural diasporas through the ages. Your Sim hasn’t gotten out of the bathtub in 14 Sim hours, so you suppose it’s worth it to spend some extra time playing. It only takes a minute of watching Sim Y/N weeping in the bathroom to convince you that you should make a new Sim, a partner just for her. She’s done so much for you, she deserves it.
You spend the next two hours choosing the details of your new Sim. You begin to manufacture the ideal man for your Sim, and in some ways, for you. He should be a little nerdy, a little mischievous. Done, and done. He should be funny and shy at the same time, with a cute smile. Done, done, done. It makes you feel a little bit like Dr. Frankenstein when he was creating his monster, but you dismiss the thought when it’s time to choose the Sim’s outfit.
When your new Sim is complete, you survey your handiwork with satisfaction. He’s perfect, and he’s perfect for your Sim.
“Hey, Y/N, wanna try this new type of latte I’ve been experimenting with?”
You glance at the familiar voice with a bright smile. “Of course, when would I ever say no to free coffee?”
Jungkook grins and places the mug on the table in front of you.
Your eyes drop back to the screen to your new Sim, and an unsettling feeling strikes you deep in the pit of your stomach. You look back up at Jungkook. You look back down at the Sim. Back up at Jungkook.
“Is everything okay?” He asks.
Holy shit. You just made a Sim version of Jungkook.
You need a moment to process it, but with Jungkook staring at you with concern, you don’t have a moment to spare. You knew you liked Jungkook, but enough to create a Sim of him? Unintentionally? When you were creating your ideal man? It’s too much. The screen itself makes you feel exposed. All he would have to do to see the abomination you just created is look down.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine. All good,” You sputter, closing your laptop, and the abrupt slam startles Jungkook. “Just looking at my grades.”
He cracks a smile. “That bad, huh?”
You sigh. “Even worse.”
“This might make you feel better,” he says, nudging the mug towards you.
The coffee that Jungkook created is steamy, covered in foam latte art that he’s definitely been practicing. Today’s art is a melting outline of a kitten, whiskers and all. It smells divine, like cinnamon and something else aromatic that you can’t name. When you take a sip, you want to melt, melt straight into the coffee and live there forever.
“Jungkook, this is amazing,” you breathe, your eyes closed to savor the taste on your tongue. “This might be my new regular.”
When you open your eyes, Jungkook’s moved to the seat across from you, amused and proud and bashful all at the same time. The glow of the afternoon washes over him from the window you’re seated beside.
“I’m serious, you could add this to the menu. Hell, you could start your own coffee shop at this rate.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Thanks, but don’t let Hoseok hear you say that.”
“Maybe if I tell him, he’ll start paying you more. You must be in demand in the cafe industry.”
“It’s true, I am.”
You take another swallow of the coffee, not caring about the foam collecting on your upper lip like a mustache.
Jungkook laughs louder this time, watching you inhale the coffee. “You got something on your face, Mario.”
Without a single warning, he’s leaning over the table and wiping off the foam from your upper lip. It’s a gentle swipe of his thumb, nothing more, but it stops your breath. You stare straight into his eyes; you don’t even risk blinking. Jungkook’s eyes are always starry and glittering like there’s an entire galaxy inside of them, even at 4pm.
You once told Jin and Jieun about Jungkook’s eyes, and they were less than enthusiastic. Jieun told you to save the whole “waxing poetry about someone’s eyes” thing for marriage, and Jin complained about how often he has to horny shame you lately.
Then, as if things could not get any more difficult for you, Jungkook takes his thumb and pops it into his mouth.
You follow his movements, not sure if you’re breathing or not. All he does is grin at you. “You’re right, it’s amazing,” he says.
He’s a maniac. He has to be stopped.
You can only blink at him.
Jungkook says nothing of your inability to speak or move, and he takes it as an opportunity to grab your mug and take a sip of it. “You know, it’s funny that you looked so horrified at your grades, since you’re always here studying.”
You nearly choke on your own spit. You’re even more screwed than you thought.
You’re good at the slow game. It’s like Jin said, you won’t take chances if you’re not sure. The only exception might be choosing anthropology as your major, and that was more out of pressure to choose a major than a meticulous and calculated choice on your end. If there’s anything that can break your cycle of hesitation, it’s peer pressure.
Unfortunately for you, your roommates know this about you.
Jieun lays on the couch with her head in your lap and you’re slumped onto Jin’s entire person. The three of you look like one disturbing mass of a human from far away, one with limbs sticking out at every angle. It’s a comforting tradition of yours, where the three of you get comfortable and snug on the couch and watch shitty movies together. Your side commentary is usually more entertaining than the movie itself, but that’s the point.
“What is the world’s obsession with fuckboys? I don’t get it,” Jieun complains, shifting her body in your lap.
Seokjin snorts. “It’s about confidence. And having a big dick. Everything is always about either of those things.”
“Or both,” you chime in. “Usually both.”
“Speaking of boys that Y/N wants to fuck…” Jieun eyes you, a small grin on her face.
Seokjin snorts again, and you can feel the movement in his chest from where you’re draped over him.
“That wasn’t what we were even talking about, dipshit.” You shove her lightly. She doesn’t even react to your push, but the mischievous light twinkling in her eyes tells you that she’s going to continue the topic.
“So? I needed a segue to talk about Jungkook.” Jieun says indifferently, as if she doesn’t feel you stiffen when she says Jungkook’s name. As a pre-law student, Jieun never had any qualms about interrogating you. She could always tell when you’re lying and when you’re telling the truth, better than you could yourself.
You heave a sigh. “You guys should just give up now. I’m not good at making the first move, you know that.”
“This is boring,” Seokjin complains. “We already know Jungkook likes you back.”
“What?” You sit up. “Did he say something about me? Did you talk to him?”
“No, I can just tell,” Seokjin says.
Your shoulders slump, and your friends laugh at you.
Jieun rubs your back soothingly, and you crash back down onto your awkward pile of bodies.
“It’s not enough to just KNOW.”
“Why not? My instincts are always spot on.”
“Like they were with Yoongi.”
“Don’t throw that name in my face, you whore.”
“I’M a whore?”
“Shut up!” Jieun all but throws the two of you off of her with the force of a much larger person. She huffs and glares at you, probably because you and Seokjin had started getting physical with each other and she had been collateral damage. “You guys are so annoying.”
Jieun turns to you first. “You—Y/N! Why are you making this harder than it needs to be? You like this hot barista-” You open your mouth to make a half-hearted protest but she beats you to it. “No, you like him! You made him a Sim, for god’s sake. That’s basically your love language. If he rejects you, which he probably won’t, then so what? You wallow, we buy you some gelato, and you move on.”
You hang your head in shame. Jieun makes everything sound simple, approachable, and much easier than you do. You’re the opposite, always seeing the intricate details before you even see the big picture. Your friends don’t have to say it, and you know they wouldn’t, bless their souls, but you’re a coward. Always flirting and making impulsive decisions then ducking for cover, hiding, and refusing to see the consequences.
But what if it could be simple? What if it is? What if you went up to Jungkook and told him “Hey, I like you, wanna go out?” You’ve said more to him before.
You take a deep breath and ease your worries with these thoughts, but before you can tell your friends about how the pep talk had worked, Jieun had turned to Seokjin.
“And you! Where do you get off, telling Y/N what to do? You danced around Yoongi for months. You put yourself in the friendzone!”
Seokjin appears to go through a similar internal battle as your own, only his doesn’t seem to have much of a resolution. You pat him on the shoulder before drawing both your friends’ hands into your own.
“It’s no use yelling at him now, Jieun, but this has been really helpful. Even though you guys are a pain, you made me realize that I might be a little stupid. But not anymore! I’m going to ask Jungkook out this week!”
For the sake of friendship, you ignore Seokjin’s mumbled “a little?” and Jieun’s fond eye roll.
“Seokjin, we can do it together!” You tell him, eyes bright. “You ask Yoongi and I ask Jungkook. It’ll be fun.”
Seokjin’s face falls by the end of your explanation. “It’s too late. Yoongi’s dating someone else. I saw him sucking Park Jimin’s face off the other day.”
“Good for him.”
Jieun punches your arm. “What Y/N meant to say is, it’s okay, Jinnie! There’s other fish in the sea.”
“Not like Yoongi,” Seokjin says forlornly.
“That’s rough, buddy,” you say, squeezing his hand.
“I mean, you’re a catch,” Jieun says, her pep talk never finished. “Who would turn you down? THE Kim Seokjin? Only a fool.”
“Only a fool,” you echo.
That seems to make Seokjin feel better, and you can tell from the way he sits straighter (his posture is no joke) and puffs out his chest like a bird that’s got the best nest. Instead of a nest, he’s got the best friends. It was mostly Jieun’s magic, but you like to think that your silent support means something too.
“Thanks, guys,” he says.
You missed a sizable chunk of the movie, but it’s not hard to pick up where you left off. You snuggle closer to your friends, and you think even if it doesn’t work out with Jungkook, you’re in good hands.
You’ve changed your mind. You love your friends, but if things don’t work out with Jungkook, you’ll be crushed. This is why you prefer to pine from afar, where your feelings aren't on the line.
It’s another quiet day in the cafe, and that only adds to your nerves. The calmness of the place guarantees some time to talk to Jungkook, but you start to get in your head. What if he only talks to you because it’s part of his job? Would it be better to ask him after work? When does he even get off his shift today? What if he rejects you, and the cafe is no longer a comfortable place? Would that even be a bad thing, since you’ve been spending way too much money on fancy coffee and danishes lately? What if you never speak to him again out of sheer humiliation? What if he never speaks to you again because of the awkwardness?
Your mind is a breeding ground for doubt. Even watching Sim Y/N and Sim Jungkook dance together at their neighbor’s party isn’t enough to calm you down or distract you. Your Jungkook-like Sim isn’t actually named Jungkook. You named your Sim Y/N to ground yourself in reality, and for the same reason, you couldn’t name her partner Jungkook. That would be too far, even for you.
Instead, his name is Jongkook, and he’s a bartender.
Yeah. You think it’s embarrassing too. It’s why you’ve been even more vigilant to hide your Sims whenever Hoseok or Jungkook float around you.
Today your mind seems to be elsewhere though, and when you hear an intentional cough from behind your shoulder, panic immediately courses through your veins.
“Is this what you do instead of studying?”
You turn to the right, and Jungkook is all but resting his head on your shoulder, peering at the Sims on your screen. He’s so close to you that you can smell his soft linen and coffee smell, but you can’t even enjoy it. Instead, you want to scream. You open your mouth, but you’re frozen. Is this sleep paralysis? God, you hope so.
Before you can shut your laptop off, he registers what he’s looking at. “Is that...me?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“N-no, no, it’s not you,” you say, voice cracking.
“You even spelled my name wrong.” He tilts his head curiously at Jongkook the Sim. “It’s Jung, not Jong.”
“I-I-I-”
This is your worst nightmare. This is it. You thought your worst fear was singing in public again, but nope, it’s this right there. You can only watch Jungkook in horror as he squints at your Sims, taking in their names, outfits, appearances.
“Wow,” he says, turning to you, “this is really thorough. Tell me, do we have children yet?”
You choke on your own spit.
“No! This isn’t based on you!” You sputter, trying to create some half-assed excuse on the spot. “These aren’t my Sims, they’re my friend’s. I was just, um, watching them for him.”
Jungkook looks at you closely, his eyes twinkling in the cafe’s lights. You can hear your heartbeat knocking, no, banging, against your chest. You can hear the blood pounding through your body, in your ears, and the twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes makes you think he can hear it too.
“You don’t have to lie to me, Y/N,” he says, his voice sounding like a song with a melody that you can’t place. “Besides, I’ve known you were playing the Sims for months now.”
Somehow, that’s what does it for you. Your jaw all but unhinges. “You what?”
“Yeah, I mean, you’re not as stealthy as you think.” Jungkook laughs, and it hits you that he is laughing at you.
You lift a shaking hand to shut your laptop, finally. “I have...I should go.” You sound weaker and softer than you intended, your voice trailing off into nothing. The sound of the coffee shop bustling around you saves you from further embarrassment.
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Hey, I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You avoid looking him straight in the eye, standing up and packing your stuff up with the finesse of a baby deer. Your hands fumble with your laptop charger, and it falls onto the ground. Jungkook attempts to gather it off the floor with you, but Hoseok being a competent employee saves you for once.
“Jungkook,” Hoseok calls. “Jungkook, get the F over here or else I’ll really say the F word in front of all of these people.”
You meet Jungook’s gaze when you stand up with your charger. He looks at you with concern, his eyes asking you what he did wrong. You feel too exposed with him looking at you like that. He waits in front of you for one moment, one long moment, before you move towards the door and he moves towards the counter.
By the time you’re down the street, you let out a breath. You feel dampness on your face. You raise your head to the sky, and when you realize it’s not raining, you crumple a little bit more.
The door is loud when you open it, like the sounds of the keys turning in the door and the sound of entering your empty apartment alone are amplified somehow. Seokjin finds you later, silent and face down on your bed.
“Oh, no, honey.” He sits beside you, running a warm hand through your hair. You turn towards him and wrap your hands around his torso. He hugs you back even though the position is awkward.
“Jungkook saw my Sims,” You say, partially muffled by his thigh.
Seokjin pauses thoughtfully. “And what did he say?”
“He laughed.”
Seokjin gives you some comforting pats on your back. “What did you want him to do?”
You shrug helplessly against his leg, and he sighs.
In the week that you’ve been studying in the library instead of Cafe O Lay, you’ve done 3 essays. You actually started them early too. Of course, that might be because you no longer have the heart to play the Sims, but you blame the distracting environment of Cafe O Lay. It’s a coffee shop, after all. Not the perfect place to study. Especially not with certain people roaming around, flexing their forearms while they mix shakes and absent-mindedly pushing their hair behind their ears.
You’re holed up in a table in the quietest nook of the university library. This is really the perfect place to study. You should come here every day. Your grades would probably skyrocket.
When you shift in your chair, it makes a squeaky noise. Someone shushes you, and you whisper a “Sorry” that’s met with a hiss.
You cringe and turn back to your essay.
It’s silent for a long time—so long that you lose track of the passage of time. When you glance at the time, you realize only 10 minutes have passed since you got here. Staring at the glossy finish of the table, you come to terms with a few different facts:
The library is not for you. It’s too quiet. The people are not friendly. Who are you kidding? You’re miserable here.
You miss coffee and danishes. How are you supposed to get shit done if you’re hungry and tired?
You miss Jungkook. You definitely have a massive boner for him, in the eloquent words of Kim Seokjin. You miss his jokes and his funny expressions and his laughter.
You’re startled from your trance by the sound of two plastic cups hitting the table. Even more startling is the face of Jeon Jungkook, smiling down at you.
“What are you doing here?” You whisper, alarmed when he sits himself down in the seat across from you.
He quirks a brow and pushes one of the drinks towards you before taking out his own laptop. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m studying with a friend.”
Studying with a friend? He brought you a drink? He smiled at you? You try and fail to keep the bewilderment off your face. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. You do see the ends of his mouth curl up when he takes a sip of his drink.
It’s something cold with a lot of whipped cream and sugar and coffee. He even got the little caramel sprinkles on top that he knows you love.
You can feel your forehead pinching from the effort it’s taking you to resist this drink.
“What’s the catch?” You ask, although your hand is inching towards the drink of its own will.
Jungkook shoots you a bemused look. “Why would there be a catch?”
You can’t find a logical answer for him.
True to his word, he starts pulling study materials out of his backpack: a notebook, a textbook, a pencil case, a laptop, over-the-ear headphones.
To say you’re bewildered is a massive understatement.
It takes you a few minutes of fumbling and blatantly ogling Jungkook, who patiently smiles back at you, before you can relax your shoulders and spine.
An hour later, he’s still there, deeply immersed in whatever he’s studying. You know it’s been an hour because you’ve been watching the time slowly tick since he got here. You’ve been watching Jungkook’s eyes flit across his screen and his hands jostle restlessly and his leg bounce under the table and his hair brush against his eyebrows. There seems to be no point in doing essays to distract yourself from a certain someone if he’s sitting right in front of you.
At one point, he pulls his headphones down to rest around his neck and shuts his laptop. You busy yourself with clicking and typing at the 1 page, mostly empty word document that’s open.
“Y/N,” he says.
You look up at him like he’s caught you off guard. “Yes?”
“Are we gonna talk about it?”
“About what?”
He sighs. “About how I saw your Sim of me and then you ran away and haven’t been to the coffee shop since?”
Wow, he was straight to the point, wasn’t he?
You sip at the drink he got you, as if it’s not empty. The straw makes a loud sputtering noise that has several students glowering your direction.
Jungkook waits.
You bury your face in your hands. “Can’t you tell? I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sorry you had to see that, that I even made you into a Sim in the first place. That was probably the most embarrassing moment in my life.”
“What’s so embarrassing about it?”
“You laughed! You knew about the Sims all along!” You catch more people trying to telepathically kill you and you lower your voice. “Oh my god, you’re laughing right now.”
Jungkook looks like he’s using every muscle in his body to prevent himself from laughing. You suppose that should count for something.
“I’m not laughing,” Jungkook says, grinning. “Okay, I am laughing, but not because it’s embarrassing. I think it’s cute. No, I think you’re cute.”
“You what?” Your voice is so loud this time that you get an actual “Shush!” from someone.
Jungkook’s shoulders shake silently from how hard he’s laughing. You throw all your things into your bag haphazardly and drag him away.
A moment later, you’re sitting on the stairs in the emergency stairwell of the library.
“You WHAT?” Your eyes must be bulging out of their sockets, and you’re staring at Jungkook like he turned green and pregnant and started speaking Simlish. Not unlike Jongkook the Sim bartender, who was the next alien abduction victim..
Jungkook beams at you. “See? Cute.”
It shouldn’t be so mind boggling that someone finds you cute, but you’ve always had anxiety around love and romance. That’s why you never approach people you’re attracted to, and it’s why you never intended on pursuing Jungkook.
“Tell me something,” Jungkook says, sitting down on the stairs next to you. “How did Sim Y/N and Sim Jungkook meet?”
“At a bar. He works at a bar.”
“Are they happy together?”
You hum. “They were happy, but then he got kidnapped by aliens and returned the next day green and pregnant. Sim Y/N was upset about that.”
Jungkook nodded sympathetically. “The baby’s not hers, huh?”
“Nope. It’s very tragic.”
“Is there any hope?” Jungkook nudges you with his arm, and you turn to face him.
Your faces are much closer than you realized. Every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn away and scootch farther away and maybe even tell Jungkook you are unwell and go home immediately and never see him again. Maybe not every cell though. There’s one that sounds suspiciously like Seokjin, and it’s telling you that there is hope, for maybe more than just your Sim. It also tells you to stop self-sabotaging your life.
You somehow manage to stay there and enjoy staring at Jungkook’s sparkly galaxy eyes up close.
“Yeah, I think so,” you tell him. Your voice isn’t more than a warm breath.
Your eyes drop to his lips, and you spot a mole on the bottom lip. You lift up a hand to touch it, but you stop yourself before you can.
Jungkook puts a hand against yours and interlaces your fingers. He stands up, lifting you up along with him.
“Let’s go get something to eat,” he says, searching your face. “Like a date. Is that okay with you?”
You nod, and the ends of your mouth are floating upwards like balloons. You smile so widely at Jungkook that you fear you’ve accidentally cosplayed as the Joker. He cosplays as the Joker right back.
You trudge hand in hand back through the library.
“Let’s go get coffee,” you say.
Jungkook groans loudly.
Someone shushes you again, and the two of you hightail it out there, giggling like the lovesick fools that you definitely are.
A/N: I had a blast writing this 2 YEARS ago, and then I left it unfinished in the vaults like I do with every work of writing I start. I rediscovered it recently, thought it deserved an ending, and here I am posting it! I am so glad I could finish a longer one-shot for this blog even if I'm not actively writing fanfic anymore. Hope you enjoy!
genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au
word count: 1.3k
warnings: none
You roll your shoulders and stretch your neck to no avail. You must’ve developed this impenetrable ache when you were hunched over your Potions essay last night in the common room. Or maybe it was when one of the idiot chasers on the Quidditch team (surprisingly not Jungkook this time) hit you between the shoulderblades. Either way, you are not having a good time, and this time it has more to do with the physical pain of sitting against this rickety, unsupportive library chair than the mental pain of working on a project with Jeon Jungkook.
“Need some help?” Jungkook grins at you from across the table. The both of you had been working on this project for a while now, and you just now notice how few people are left in the library.
You scowl at him, cursing the day McGonagall decided group projects were the new thing. “Don’t mock my pain and suffering, Jeon.”
You massage the back of my neck and wince at the permanent crick that had taken residence in your already exhausted body.
“Try rolling your head around,” he says. You can’t tell if he was joking or actually trying to help, but then he starts rolling his head around. “In circles like this. It always helps me.”
You frown, but you roll your head slowly in a circle just as he did. Halfway through, you’re struck by a stinging pain. “Ow, ow, fuck.”
“Are you okay?” Jungkook leans over the table and reaches toward your neck, as if to examine it himself. You swat his hand away.
“Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing or something?” He offers, unfazed.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just-” You attempt to stretch your neck again “-really annoying.”
It’s more than annoying. It hurts like hell. But you’re not about to tell Mr. Jeon “Go to the Hospital Wing” Jungkook that. If you went to the Hospital Wing everytime something hurt, you’d never leave.
Jungkook stands up. You stare up at him blankly and ask, “Where are you going? We’re not done yet, and I am not doing this entire thing myself.”
He doesn’t answer, instead walking around the table and standing right behind me. “Y/N, I know you like to pretend to hate me and whatever, but what if I said I could solve all your problems?”
“I highly doubt that, Jungkook.” You deadpan. “And what do you mean pretend to hate you?”
“Trust me, just this one time.”
“No thanks.”
He sighs. “Listen. What I’m about to tell you is top secret information.”
“Top secret?” You repeat, bewildered, craning your head up to look at him. Jungkook is a bit red in the face. Although you’re not sure how you got yourself into this impromptu secret-spilling with him, you can’t deny that you’re curious. “This better be good.”
“You can’t tell anyone.” You sneak another look at him over your shoulder. He’s serious. Even the sparkle in his eyes is dull. “I mean it.”
“Okay, fine. I won’t tell anyone.”
“So,” Jungkook starts slowly, “my mother suffered from a lot of aches and pains when I was a kid. She became really interested in all sorts of home remedies, massage therapies, herbal treatments, the sorts. And she taught me all of it.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, just processing that Jeon Jungkook, Quidditch Extraordinaire, Hogwarts’ Golden Boy, the Doofenshmirtz to your Perry the Platypus, was well-versed in massage therapy of all things. You also don’t mind letting Jungkook simmer in nerves as he waits for your reaction.
You turn around in your seat fully to face him, watching with pure joy as he shifts awkwardly on his feet. He avoids your gaze, all but hiding behind the palms of his hands.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he mumbles. “I told you because I thought it might help.”
You try but you can’t hide your shit-eating grin. “Jeon Jungkook. Are you offering me a massage?”
He sticks you with a pointed look. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be. I’m only offering because the Quidditch team needs you uninjured at the game this weekend.”
You open your mouth to tease him more, but all of your thoughts are drowned out by the unbearable pinch in your neck. With a grimace, you turn back around in your chair and gesture to your neck.
“Okay, sure, do it. Work your magic.”
The second Jungkook’s hands brush at your neck, you start to realize that maybe this isn’t such a good idea. First of all, you’re in a very public library, even if it’s nighttime and most students are back in their common rooms. Second of all, your project has been abandoned midway. If you don’t finish tonight, you’ll have to meet up with Jungkook again. Third of all, isn’t it weird? To have Jungkook massaging your neck? You couldn’t say. You’ve never been in this situation before.
The moment Jungkook pressed a finger onto a specific point on the back of your neck, all of these concerns whooshed out of your head. Suddenly, the fact that you’re in a library seems trivial. Your eyes flutter closed at the next touch.
It’s like your body is made of buttons, and Jungkook knows exactly which ones to press. It’s too good, like bite-your-lip-so-you-don’t-moan-like-a-weird-freak good.
“You good?” He says softly after a little while.
You mumble something intelligible, eyes still closed. He laughs but continues doing his magic—literally. You think he took out his wand for a moment, and after that, a wonderful, cold sensation spread throughout your back and shoulders.
You don’t open your eyes until after he stops. He actually has to say, “You can open your eyes now.”
The overwhelming smugness all over his stupid face meets you when you open your eyes, and it’s enough to make you cringe in embarrassment.
“So. How do you feel?” He asks, settling back into his seat across from you.
You purse your lips and busy yourself with shuffling your papers around.
He rocks back and forth in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. The relief in your neck was enough for you to let him have his moment.
“Thanks, Jungkook.” You stare stubbornly at the parchment that you had been working on before.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He’s enjoying this too much.
“I said thank you,” you snap.
Stupid Jungkook and his stupid skills. It’s not fair that he’s good at everything, even something as random as massage therapy.
The smile on his face is warm, but still, he says, “You don’t sound very grateful.”
“Don’t push it.” You roll your eyes at him, and if possible, his grin widens. In your absent thoughts about slapping the grin off his face, a thought strikes you. You grin back at him. “Now that I know about all your wonderful...skills, I sure hope that information doesn’t somehow fall into the wrong hands.”
Jungkook’s smile falls.
“Imagine the people I could tell,” you whisper, relishing the momentary fear you catch on his face before he replaces it with casual nonchalance.
Y/N: 1. Jungkook: 0.
Fine, you suppose Jungkook gets a point for massaging your neck for 10 minutes.
“You wouldn’t,” Jungkook says. “Not after I made you feel like heaven on earth.”
“I think you give yourself too much credit.”
“Some would say I deserve the credit.”
“Your mother, perhaps?”
“You, actually,” he all but leers at you, “and those noises you made just now.”
He gestures at your neck.
Fuck. You thought those noises were in your head.
The corners of Jungkook’s lips curl up at the lack of an immediate comeback.
Y/N: 1. Jungkook: 2.
A/N: I haven't updated this series since Jan 2022 because life got busy (grad school) and I started writing an original story. This has been collecting in the dust for years, so I figured it's better to post as is than not at all. I may do the same with some other fics, but no promises.
my friend has been diagnosed with brain tumor. her family needs help to send her to Turkey for operation. we have been gathering funds for a week but haven't gotten anywhere near to the goal. we only have 5 days left before operation and dont know what else to do other than ask for help. please if you can, donate
Dear people, I am put in a position where my sister’s life depends on the sheer benevolence of complete strangers. My sister, 16 years old A
Sumary: after 3 months of silence, Yoongi waits for 3 hours to see Jungkook. That to only get 3 minutes with him.
word count: 2.1k
Genre: angst. just angst. nothing more.
warrings: major character death, spirits, witch yoongi, ANGST, car accidents, heartbreak, THIS IS ANGST.
a/n: well well well. look at me writing my fav trope. i’ll be the first to say this isn’t my best work but damn do i love this shit. anyways anyone who reads it. good luck <3
5:53 pm
Yoongi didn’t think much when he looked at the clock and he saw it was well past five, around the time he asked Jungkook to come over. Having known the boy for more than five years, he wasn’t surprised. He can’t remember a time when Jungkook was on time for anything. It was his thing to be late, apologizing but never truly feeling sorry and Yoongi let him. Everyone in their friend group let him. Giving up after 2 years of nagging, resigning themselves to the fact that he wasn’t going to change. Yoongi doubts the younger one suddenly started respecting other people’s time in the last 3 months.
As much as he kept telling their friends it wasn’t their intention to stay away from each other. That it was just a mere coincidence, they were both busy. He knew no one was buying it. Not them, not Jungkook, and definitely not himself.
It was his intention. Clearly remembering his words.
“I think we need some time apart.”
It wasn’t a coincidence. They both avoided one another like the black plague. Yoongi tried not to think about the dull ache all over his body every time he met up with his friends, quickly scanning the room and not finding a boy smiling up at him like he used to. It hurt. It hurt more than Jungkook’s words had.
“Hyung. I’m sorry. I don’t think I feel the same way.”
Things were awkward between them. Jungkook wouldn’t even look at him while Yoongi acted normal, secretly clinging to the uncertainty in the younger's voice when he turned him down. The little blossom of hope was more overwhelming than Jungkook accidentally finding out about his feelings. It suffocated him.
They needed space. They needed time. Maybe then “think” would be gone from that sentence. Maybe then everything would be fine.
Three months Jungkook let him be.
Three months Yoongi focused on himself and his practice.
Three months and the older finally gathered enough courage to reach out for the person he missed the most.
He sent a letter to Jungkook. An actual, handwritten letter, where he asked Jungkook if he wanted to hang out. April 5, 5 pm, at Yoongi’s place.
An answer came in a few hours in the form of a text.
Kookie: hyung, what’s up with the letter? do i need a formal invitation now? damn you could have just texted. im happy to come over :D
Yoongi had just smiled and asked him what he wanted to eat. Jungkook said anything was fine but anything wasn’t fine.
Anything wasn’t enough.
Yoongi ended up going to the grocery shop and buying everything in need to make Jungkook’s favorite meal. After all, he was seeing him for the first time in three months.
Three months without Jungkook when once three days was too much.
Three days without Jungkook meant one of them wasn’t okay.
Three days meant turning up on each other's doorsteps with a warm bowl of soup or a shoulder to cry on.
Thinking back Yoongi wonders if that played a role in their fallout. Not enough time apart, not enough space. Maybe they could have set boundaries. Maybe then he wouldn’t have ended up heartbroken and without his best friend.
But past is past. It doesn't matter how much he wants to change it, there’s nothing he can do other than accept it. Let it flow. He’s going to be okay.
They’re going to be okay.
So Yoongi waits. Sits and waits for Jungkook. Actually, he does everything but sitting.
He cleans his entire house. Sets the table. Rearranges his crystals. Talks to his plants. Tries not to cry. Sweats through two shirts. Drinks a glass of water. Pulls his head out of the toilet. Tries to warm himself up. Takes a headache medicine.
And after two hours of nausea, sweaty palms, and frozen feet, he sits down to meditate.
It’s easier these days. With his mind much calmer and years of practicing on his hands, he finds the world stripped away from him quickly.
He focuses on his breathing.
In and out.
In and out.
In and out.
He focuses on his heart, beating differently. As if it’s actually broken and can’t function like it used to. Yoongi tries not to think about why it’s the way that it is. Why is he the way that he is.
He can’t do this right now. Not right now.
A sudden shiver runs through his body and familiar but strange energy enters his house. It’s strong, quickly overpowering Yoongi’s mental shield and affecting his mood. A tight ball gets stuck in his throat as tears prickle his eyes.
No.
Yoongi’s not gonna let anything ruin this moment for him. Not himself and especially not the spirit in his house. He has been waiting for too long.
He quickly gets up, marching over to the shelf he knows he keeps his incense on. He needs to clean the house. He needs to clear this energy. It feels too much like the heartbreak that has rooted itself in Yoongi’s heart. He can’t handle this when Jungkook is going to walk in any minute. He can’t do this.
The weight of the wooden box in his hand feels familiar and tracing its pattern calms the witch down.
He’s going to be okay.
Yoongi’s about to take out one of the sticks from the opened box when he hears the voice he loves the most in this world. It’s just as soft as he remembers, airier, and filled with so many emotions Yoongi feels dizzy.
“Hyung.”
Yoongi’s eyes get stuck on the clock for a moment, it’s moving slower than normal.
8:50.
He closes his eyes. Counts to 60.
8:50.
He needs to get the spirit out of the house.
“Hyung.”
Another call and Yoongi can’t help but follow it to the living room. Box in his hand forgotten but clutched tightly. Its corner digging into the witch's palm. But Yoongi doesn’t care because…
He’s here.
Jungkook’s here. He’s here.
They’re going to be okay.
Jungkook is standing in his living room with a little sad smile playing on his lips. He looks good. Yoongi recognizes the flannel he let Jungkook borrow a long time ago, wrapped around the younger’s torso. It makes his heart skip a few beats, almost going back to the way it used to beat.
It’s funny because Yoongi didn’t hear the door open but he didn’t feel the way an hour flew by either and Jungkook has his keys. He probably let himself in.
Jungkook’s eyes are focused on the box of incense in his hands with so much pain that the witch gets the horrible urge to hide it behind his back. Anything to make him happy.
Anything to make them okay.
They’re going to be okay.
When Jungkook's gaze settles on him, he rethinks that statement. His big eyes are filled with sorrow. Sorrow and something Yoongi can't quite put his finger on… guilt? regret?
oh no.
Did he come all the way here to tell Yoongi they can’t be friends anymore? Maybe he still pities him. Maybe he feels the same.
Yoongi’s lost in his head. He is lost in his fear and hope. And if not for the wave of emotion that hits him from Jungkook next time he calls him, he would probably still be lost.
“Hyung.”
Three times.
It’s desperate and broken. Small, barely a whisper and yet it reaps Yoongi's heart right out of his chest. The box from Yoongi's hand hits the ground with a little thump but to Yoongi it shakes the entire world.
“No.” is all he manages to let out as he looks at Jungkook again. He feels bright, brighter than anything he has ever seen but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s only energy left of him. “No.”
His bottom lip wobbles and his eyes fill with tears as he strides towards Jungkook, stopping right in front of him. His eyes meet younger’s. He lifts his shaking hand. He needs to know.
Jungkook’s brows furrow as he pleads.
“Hyung don’t do it.”
He knows Yoongi has never been good at making physical contact with spirits. The witch has always been a little too open, vulnerable. Emotions of death pain him. Yoongi won’t be able to handle his pain but he can’t stop him. Not with just his words. So Jungkook just closes his eyes as tears slide down his face. He can’t watch this. Not when all he has done lately is hurt Yoongi.
Yoongi slowly puts his hand on what would be Jungkook's cheek, trying to wipe away the tears. Instead, the wave of emotion makes its way to his heart and spreads all over his body. Heartbreak. Remorse. Sorrow.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
Yoongi feels lightheaded. Jungkook shouldn’t be in this much pain. He feels weak. He feels helpless. Yoongi’s knees give out. He falls to the ground, hand clutched to his chest. Jungkook shouldn’t be in pain. He shouldn’t be dead.
Dead.
It’s real.
Yoongi shuts his eyes, tears slide down his cheeks and the first sob wrecks his body.
Jungkooks falls in front of him, wanting to reach out, wanting to comfort his hyung but he can’t do that to Yoongi. Not again.
“no. no. This isn’t real, “ Yoongi cants over and over again as if he’s performing a ritual. Maybe, if he closes his eyes tighter, maybe, if he chants harder, it will all go away. ”this isn’t real. This can’t be real… it-It's a dream…. a nightmare.. this- this isn't real." except it’s not a nightmare.
Yoongi’s breaths are coming out short and wheezy. His throat has decided dying is easier than breathing, tightened itself up, and won’t let air get to his lungs. His rib cage feels like it's collapsing, his lungs burn. Pressure from his head travels down his neck. His vision blurs. This can’t be real.
Yoongi’s about to pass out when he hears Jungkook’s desperate pleas.
“Hyung breathe.”
The witch’s mind comes to a screeching halt. He only has god knows how long with Jungkook. He can’t waste it. He can’t leave Jungkook alone. Not again.
Yoongi opens his eyes. Jungkook’s not bright anymore.
The older forces himself to take a couple of breaths before he chokes out.
“How?”
Jungkook’s lips twist in a bittersweet smile and he averts his eyes.
“I was coming here and it just came out of nowhere. it … it came out of nowhere hyung.. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. He shouldn’t be sorry.
“No. no, go back. Go back to your body.” Yoongi begs, shuffling forward. “ go Jungkook. Please.”
Jungkook looks worried that he might actually get pushed and the Yoongi ’s heart screams at him. Jungkook knows he won’t feel the pain but Yoongi will.
He bites his lips and Yoongi watches as the younger's temple splits open. He gets lighter.
“I can’t. Hyung, I can't.. I tried… i’m already dead.”
Dead. Jungkook's dead. Only energy, that will fade over time, left from the boy he loves. Jungkook’s dead.
Blood trickles down his face and joins the tears. He shouldn’t feel this pain.
“I just got you back. You can't…” Yoongi whispers. His eyes are glued to the boy's broken nose. “You can’t leave me now.”
“hyung. Yoongi hyung. I need you to listen to me okay?” Jungkook chokes on his words. ”I’m sorry… I'm sorry. I-i was stupid and I didn’t know better. I love you too Yoongi. I love you so much. And I’m… I’m selfish to tell you this now but I love you.”
Yoongi waited so long to hear those words. He waited so long but now it just feels bittersweet like the smile on Jungkook’s red lips, painted by blood. It feels too much like the goodbye Yoongi’s not ready to say.
“It’s been a long time and..if-if you don’t feel the same way again I understand but hyung, I love you.”
They’ve been here. These words were said 3 months ago. This time it’s gonna be different.
“You’re gonna be okay hyung. Everything will be okay.”
Jungkook tells him so sincerely that Yoongi feels sick. How can he actually think Yoongi’s going to be okay. Jungkook will be gone. How is he supposed to be okay?
“I’m so s’rry hyung. I'm s’ s’rry.”
He shouldn’t be sorry. He shouldn’t feel this pain.
“Jungkookah. I love you.”
Jungkook smiles. The blood from his mouth joins the tears and his eyelids sag. He’s barely visible. Almost gone. Still, he’s smiling. He’s smiling for Yoongi.
“Everything’ gonna be okay…” he whispers, fading away. “you’re gonna be okay Yoongi.”
Yoongi sits there. Looking at nothing. He…He can’t feel his heart.
YOONMIN MY LOVE 😭😭 ISTG NINAAAA THIS GET BETTER EVERY TIME I READ IT! namjesus 👆🥰 literally you dont know how much i love flustered jiminnnn *screams* SEROTONIN BOOST
Welcome to Spellbound! These drabbles will be loosely connected, and all the characters will be in the same universe. There is going to be some overlap and continuity within the drabbles, but you should be able to read them individually and in whatever order.
I was going to focus this on Jungkook x reader, but the gods of fate (and writing ofc) laughed in my face. I'm going to be writing at least one for each member (possibly more since there are other pairings hehe).
genre: hogwarts au, e2l, fluff
pairings: jungkook x reader, yoongi x jimin, namjoon x jin
drabble #1: a normal friday afternoon
You and Jungkook get into trouble during Potions class.
im not your baby i am older than you and i only know this by random chance and not bc we're best friends or anything bc i am completely random stranger
"and she said she's not her baby just because she's older"
