ᯓ cortis x fem!reader
ᯓ synopsis: texts with your boyfriend who might be a teensy tiny bit jealous
ᯓ warnings: just a cute lil smau! keonho and martin are kinda mean (not to you!) LMAO
ᯓ authors note: my first smau 😳 idk why the formatting is like this i'm so sorry 😓
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The whole thing starts because James refuses to stop talking.
You are sitting comfortably across his bed with one of his hoodies swallowed around your frame, legs tucked beneath you while the evening settles quietly outside his room.
The rain had started earlier and now soft tapping sounds press against the window while music hums somewhere from his speaker, low enough to blend into the room without demanding attention.
James is stretched lazily against the pillows with his phone balanced in one hand, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who has spent the last fifteen minutes bothering you.
“You know,” he says without looking up, “I’m starting to think you only date me for my clothes.”
You glance down at the oversized sleeves covering your hands and shrug.
“That’s not true.”
He finally lifts his eyes.
“Oh?”
“I also date you because you buy me food.”
That earns a quiet laugh.
“Wow.” He presses a hand dramatically over his chest. “Good to know my personality never made the list.”
“You have one?”
James lowers his phone slowly.
And immediately, you know that expression.
The one that means he is about to become unbearable.
“That’s interesting,” he says, sitting up a little. “Because I was just thinking the exact same thing about you.”
You smile innocently and continue scrolling on your own phone.
Unfortunately, he takes your silence as encouragement.
“You’ve been stealing my hoodie all day, insulting me for free, and now suddenly I’m the problem.”
“You are the problem.”
“That hurts.”
“You’ll survive.”
He narrows his eyes, clearly entertained rather than offended.
The thing about James is that he enjoys these little arguments far too much. Half the time they are not even disagreements anymore, just excuses to keep your attention focused on him.
And honestly, you encourage it more than you admit.
Still, tonight you suddenly feel like pushing it further.
So you lock your phone, look up at him, and sigh dramatically.
“You know what?” you say. “I think I’m upset with you.”
James does not even blink.
“No you’re not.”
You stare at him.
“That was quick.”
“Because I know you.”
You fold your arms.
“Well maybe you don’t.”
His mouth twitches.
“That sounds so fake already.”
You try keeping your expression serious.
“I’m being serious.”
“Mhm.”
“I am.”
“No.” He sets his phone aside completely and leans back against the headboard, looking entirely too relaxed. “You’re entertaining yourself.”
You narrow your eyes.
“You think this is funny?”
“Actually I think you’re funny.”
That annoyingly calm smile stays on his face while you sit there trying not to laugh.
Which only irritates you more.
“Maybe I should stop talking to you.”
James tilts his head.
“For how long?”
You hesitate.
“A while.”
“That’s not really specific.”
“Oh my god.”
He looks at you carefully for another second before shaking his head.
“You don’t even sound mad enough.”
You grab the nearest pillow and throw it at him.
He catches it immediately.
“There,” you say. “Better?”
He considers it.
“Still not convinced.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re cute when you’re pretending.”
That makes you sit up straighter.
“I’m not pretending.”
James looks genuinely thoughtful for a second.
Then, with complete confidence, he says, “Okay. Leave then.”
You blink.
“What?”
“If you’re really mad.”
He gestures toward the door casually.
The confidence in his voice bothers you more than it should.
So naturally, you decide to commit.
“Fine.”
You push yourself off the bed and start walking toward the door.
Behind you, James stays suspiciously quiet.
For approximately three seconds.
Then you hear movement.
Followed by footsteps.
You do not need to look back to know he is following you.
“You walk so fast,” he comments.
You ignore him.
“That’s kinda impressive actually.”
Still nothing.
You reach the hallway while he trails after you with absolutely no shame.
“Babe.”
Silence.
“You know I hate you ignoring me, right?”
You continue walking toward the kitchen with your arms crossed while he follows at an annoyingly relaxed pace.
You open the fridge despite not wanting anything at all, mostly because you need somewhere to stand.
James leans against the doorway.
“Babe, come on.”
“I’m upset.”
“No,” he says calmly. “You’re just really bored.”
You close the fridge harder than necessary.
“You don’t take anything seriously.”
“That’s not true.”
“You literally don’t believe me because you don’t love me anymore.”
He studies you for a second.
Then his eyes drop toward the hoodie.
“Alright then, take off my clothes.”
You look down.
“Shut up!”
You push past him and head toward the living room instead.
Again, he follows.
And somehow that annoys you while also making you smile.
“You know what your issue is?” you ask.
He looks delighted immediately.
“Oh this sounds promising.”
“You always think you’re right.”
“That’s because I usually am.”
“That is genuinely insufferable.”
“And yet,” he says while falling into step beside you, “you’re still here.”
You drop onto the couch dramatically.
He sits beside you.
Too close.
You move away.
He moves too.
You glare.
He smiles.
“You’re irritating.”
“You’ve said that already.”
“But I mean it more now.”
You try scooting away again but his knee bumps yours before you get far.
“You know,” he says softly, “if you were actually mad, you’d be quieter.”
That makes you pause.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You talk more when you’re fake mad.”
Your jaw drops.
“You study me now?”
“I pay attention.”
For some reason, that answer throws you off more than you expect.
Before you can respond, his fingers poke lightly at your side.
You immediately grab his wrist.
“James.”
“There she is.”
“Stop.”
“You smiled.”
“I did not!”
You let go of his wrist and look away dramatically.
For once, he quiets.
The teasing fades into something softer while the rain continues tapping against the windows.
Then you feel him looking at you again.
“You done?” he asks quietly.
You keep staring ahead.
“No.”
“Mhm.”
“I’m still upset.”
He nods thoughtfully.
“That’s terrible.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“A little.”
You try staying serious.
You really do.
But then his shoulder nudges yours.
And again.
And once more until you finally crack.
A laugh slips out before you can stop it.
James looks victorious immediately.
“Oh wow,” he says softly. “Look at that.”
You cover your face with your sleeve.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yes I do.”
He smiles.
“That’s a lot coming from someone who kept kissing me last night.”
You groan quietly and lean back against the couch.
The worst part is that he looks so pleased.
Then his hand reaches toward yours and somehow you already know where this is going.
His fingers slide gently through yours before you can pull away, warm and familiar.
The room feels quieter suddenly.
The teasing still lingers between you, but softer now.
He squeezes your hand once.
Then looks over.
“You know,” he says, voice lower than before, “for somebody trying to leave me five minutes ago…”
You look at him.
“You’re holding my hand pretty hard.”
Your face warms instantly.
You try pulling away but he does not let go.
And unfortunately, his smile only softens.
“You’re awful,” you mumble.
James leans back against the couch, still holding your hand between both of his like he won something.
“Sure,” he says quietly. “But you were never actually leaving.”
READ PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE
ZHAO YUFAN × FEM!READER ──── fluff, angst, humor ‧₊˚🦀༉‧₊˚. 그 예쁜 ︵ IDOL!JAMES &READER, exes2lovers (includes ocs!!!) 🥭⋆₊˚⊹ غافل بن گیا# ⋆🍹˚⊹ after a messy breakup, the last thing you wanted was to see your fans shipping you and your (gorgeous) ex once again
(💭) &james is mine back AWF 🫵🫵🫵🫵 i literally dgaf, stay mad 🫵🫵😛😛
summary. in which james insists he isn't jealous when his teammates get a little too close to you
genre. fluff, established relationship, jealous bf james with a hint of clingy, reassuring
warning. cursing
wc. 1357
it was seonghyeon's birthday, and you're invited to the boy's dorm for the party. you knock on the front door and are welcomed by keonho. "holy shit, you look amazing." he opens the door for you and you smile in return. after stepping in, you look around to find your boyfriend.
"where's james?" you ask keonho, eyes still wandering the whole room—not finding his existence.
"he went to buy a cake for hyeon. you can wait here, i'm gonna grab some candles." keonho leads you to sit on a couch in the living room and rushes back to the kitchen.
the party is simple. they only invite someone who's really close to seonghyeon since the boy's very shy around others and they don't want to make him uncomfortable on his birthday. a few balloons sit randomly on each corner of the room. there's a banner on the wall that says "happy birthday, seonghyeon" with his photo on it.
not so long after that, you hear the clicking sound on the front door and see james holding paper bags in his left hand and a box of cake in the right. "cake's coming!" james yells. you approach him immediately and try to help him.
"babe!" james' eyes lighten and he smiles so brightly at your presence. "i thought you wouldn't come! i was so sad today." he kisses the corner of your lips before the two of you bring all the stuff to the living room.
"i decided to come since keonho wouldn't stop texting me while i am at work." james stops for a while, hoping he had misheard what you said. "my phone keeps buzzing all day, you know."
"why would keonho text you?" james squints his eyes in suspicion.
"he texted about preparing hyeon's birthday. he thinks i'm going to like this party." you answer absentmindedly while putting the cake on the table.
james shrugs off his shoulders, thinking it was no big deal. he doesn't need to be jealous. it's just keonho, right?
"here are the candles." keonho comes with a few candles in his hand. "hyung! you're home." he grins. james answers him with a quick smile before putting pink whipped cream on seonghyeon's cake.
"i wanna do it too!" you exclaim and ask james for the whipped cream. he lends you the whipped cream and settles behind you on the couch, absentmindedly pulling you back until you're comfortably sitting between his legs.
keonho sits right next to james' left foot—making him unintentionally sits right next to you. "do you think seonghyeon would like this party?" he asks you.
"definitely! why wouldn't he?" you shoot him a little smile and continue to put whipped cream on seonghyeon's cake.
"i know, right?" keonho nods. the three of you remain silent for a while before keonho interrupts again. "do you think hyeon would prefer green candles or blue ones?"
"i think green would suit his vibes more."
"that's exactly what i thought! that's why i brought mostly the green ones." he smiles brightly at you, and you answer with a nod.
5 minutes later, keonho asks you again. "would i look good in blonde hair? just like martin hyung."
"ask martin." james mumbles.
"you would! oh my god, it would be exciting don't you think, james?" you look at james—signaling him to agree with you.
"i don't know no james." james stares at you. who's james? where are baby, babe, honey and all the sweet nicknames going?
"okay, babe. it would be exciting, right?" you emphasize the word babe and squeeze james' thigh—forcing him to nod at your question.
"oh, i'm not hearing this." keonho closes his ears with both hands, causing you to laugh at his reaction.
15 minutes later, seonghyeon, martin, and juhoon come through the front door from the studio. everything went as planned and seonghyeon was so happy.
"you're coming! thank you so much!" seonghyeon gives you a brief hug and accepts your gift. "a ps5 for me? thank you! hyung is so lucky to have you." seonghyeon giggles and james just rolls his eyes.
the night is getting late. james drinks a cup of soda on the couch. martin plays an acoustic guitar and rumbles random melodies. seonghyeon and keonho play with the ps5 you just gave him. and you play chess with juhoon. "hey, that's cheating!" your voice heard— making james looks directly at your way.
"no, it's not." juhoon answered calmly. "you're not gonna win if you keep playing that old tactic, you know?"
"you know what? i always won back then using this 'old tactic'."
"that's why i called it old."
the two of you laugh and james' definitely not having it. he clears his throat and proceeds to stand. "i'm gonna get some rest. once again, happy birthday hyeon." he taps seonghyeon's shoulder before walking to his bedroom.
your eyes dart towards him until his figure disappears behind the door. you excuse yourself to the boys and quickly follow james. you knock his door, "can i come in?"
after he said yes, you come in and see he is curling in his white blanket—his back faces you. you close the door and hug him from the back. "hi handsome." you smile and kiss his exposed cheek. "you look so handsome today." your compliment makes his cheek blushed but he tries so hard not to smile.
he clears his throat. "thanks. you don't look bad either."
you mumble and play with his dark brown hair. "what happened, baby?"
"nothing."
"it seems like a thing." you answer him back calmly— still playing with his strands. he remains silent.
"are you jealous?" you bite your lips, trying not to laugh at this very serious situation.
james' eyes widened and he immediately turns around to face you. "what? me? jealous? no. absolutely not. why would i?"
you smile at his reaction and kiss his cheek. "you're looking extremely handsome today. what's with the glasses? i love it." you ignore his answer and touch his glasses.
"it's called fashion."
"i know, and you're looking too good with it." you pout.
"...okay, yeah. i'm jealous. but just a little. are you satisfied?"
to james, seeing you acting all pouty and clingy around him makes his stomach full of butterflies, just like how he met you for the first time. he loves you THAT much.
"i knew it!" you celebrate after his confession. "you could've just told me!" you cling your arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest—looking up directly to meet his eyes.
"i don't wanna ruin hyeon's birthday." he looks to the other side—or basically anywhere as long as he doesn't have to meet your puppy eyes, because he would genuinely become a jelly right now.
"aww," you pinch his cheek. "you know you're the only person i love for these past 2 years. out of everyone in that room, i've been looking for you since i stepped in this dorm today."
"you're literally the sexiest man alive and i'm not planning to let you go that easily." you smirk at him.
"stop, it's getting cringe."
"but you love it when i compliment you, though."
"you're right," he smiles and wraps your body in his embrace. "i love whatever you do."
you stay at your position for a while. "if you have to choose, would you pick me or the boys?" he suddenly asks.
"you." you look up at him, finding he's already staring at you. "really?" his eyes brighten.
"no."
"BABE." james looks at you in disbelief.
"of course i choose you, you silly." you kiss his lips briefly. before he could kiss you back, you were already breaking the kiss. so he decided to chase after your lips, making it the sweetest kiss you had after a long day.
"hyung, did you see my—" juhoon's voice was heard with the sound of the door opening. "i didn't see anything!" juhoon left right after he saw the two of you.
james lets out a loud sigh and you laugh. "we need to lock the door next time."
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you and james have been friends wayyy before his debut—actually, before his trainee days. your parents knew each other from work, so whenever they’d hang out, you two would play at the tiny playground nearby. ever since then, you’ve been glued at the hip.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ click⠀﹢⠀more ❫
even when james became a trainee, you guys texted every day, met up whenever you could, and stayed close. to this day, you both refuse to admit you’re anything more than “just friends.” the members never let you live it down though. every time you two do something couple-y, they always say “just friends don’t do that.”
it was keonho’s idea to do slideshow night after he saw it online. it’s where you make slideshows about whatever you'd like and present them.
you made a whole presentation on why ___ is the best food. james did his favorite music artists and why. seonghyeon argued why martin should be drafted into the nba, and keonho passionately defended why spiderman is the best superhero.
then it was martin’s turn. he cleared his throat, looked straight at you and james, and announced his title: “top 5 things ‘just friends’ don’t do.”
the second the words left his mouth, everyone turned to stare at you two.
“seriously,” james said, smiling but clearly annoyed.
“you don’t want me to present?” martin asked, smiling.
you spoke before james could. “no, go ahead.”
#1: "friends never have to say they’re just friends."
he wasn’t wrong. every time family or strangers saw you two together, they’d glance between you and go, “so… are you guys, like, you know?”
you’d both immediately respond, “nooo, we’re just friends.” james would nod, “mhm, childhood friends, actually.”
martin let out a little laugh to himself before flipping to the next slide.
#2: "friends don’t sleep in the same bed together."
you and james had only done that once… or twice… or a few times… it doesn’t matter. your ac was broken at your apartment, so he let you crash at his dorm. just sleep. obviously.
before moving on, martin pointed at james. “this one’s specifically for you.”
#3: "friends don’t spend their whole entire bank account on the other friend."
you weren’t fully sold on this one. you’ve known each other since you were kids—spending money on each other felt normal. like that time james bought you a chanel bag with all the cute chains and a vivienne westwood necklace to match his the second he got his first idol paycheck. nothing crazy:)
#4: "best friends don’t touch as much as y’all."
another fair point. you hug a lot. he sometimes rests his head on your shoulder from behind. it’s not like you’ve ever sat on his lap or anything… 👀👀
the fifth slide wasn’t even a real point.
#5: "just say you guys want each other bad at this point." martin threw his hands up dramatically.
you and james shared a glance.
“we’re just friends though,” james said.
you agreed. everyone in the room groaned.
“bro, c’mon mannn,” seonghyeon complained.
james just smiled, clearly done with their nonsense. “i’m tired anyway, i’m heading to bed.”
“it’s only 12pm,” keonho said. martin nodded in agreement.
“yeah well i’m older than you guys. i need my sleep.”
as james walked out, keonho called after him, “grandpa!” and the rest of them cracked up.
you followed a little after. the second you left the room, the members all looked at each other holding in their laughter.
you walked into james’ room. he was pulling out clothes, about to shower.
“you good?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“yeah, i’m good. you?”
“yeah, i’m fine.”
“sorry if martin’s slideshow made you uncomfortable.”
“no, it was fine. i actually liked it. it was funny.”
he smiled, glancing back at you while digging through his drawers for sleep pants. “mmm, yeah. some parts were funny.”
you flopped down on his bed, way too comfortable for someone who’s only been in it “a few” times.
“sooooooo,” you dragged out.
“soooooo?” james mocked, turning around.
“hypothetically… if we weren’t ‘just friends,’ would you mind that?”
he fully turned to face you, sleep pants in hand. “why do you ask?”
“well… i just feel like we act more like a couple than friends.”
“oh yeah?” he said, stepping closer.
“yeah.”
he paused for a second, then asked, a little unsure, “do you wanna be my girlfriend?”
you were caught off guard. “uhh… i mean, yeah.”
“really?” james looked genuinely surprised.
“mhm.”
he did a tiny silent celebratory dance. then he walked over, peppered your whole face with kisses, and planted one short, sweet kiss on your lips while you smiled. no hesitation at all—which was kinda shocking for someone who “never” kissed their best friend before 👀
“i’ll be right back, gotta grab something from the kitchen.”
“okay,” you smiled.
james opened the door and found all the members with their ears pressed against it, trying (and failing) to look casual.
he laughed under his breath. before he could say anything, keonho blurted, “you two dating now?”
james smiled and nodded. the members immediately started cheering and hyping him up like he’d just won the lottery. he threw his hands in the air, grinning like a dumbass who finally got the thing he’d been wanting for years—which tbh wasn’t that far from the truth.
FOUR MORE TIMES THE BOYS DIDNT LET JAMES MAKE A MOVE ON YOU AND THE ONE TIME HE FINALLY CONFESSED
➪ pairing : zhao james x 6th member reader
➪ summary : the long awaited continuation to part one. james experiences a few more situations where it feels like the universe is against him. that is until he finally gets the chance to confess to you, uninterrupted.
➪ other notes : part two is finally here omg after 5 months. super nervous about releasing this but i hope that i did good. but enjoy the fluff and frustrated yearner james <3
keonho : the “day off in NZ” incident
in all honesty, you weren’t too hungry. you had a very big breakfast compared to your members despite the manager’s warnings. now that you guys are at jimmy's smokehouse, you scan through the menu, considering even getting something off the kids menu for a small portion. you’re sitting in between keonho and martin but james glances over at you. he thinks you have such an interesting thinking face. realizing you’re worried about what to get, he’s about to speak up and propose to share with you even though he has a big appetite. “y/nie, wanna share a burger ?” keonho suddenly asks with a bright smile. “aren’t you already sharing with hyeon ?” “yeah but i wanted to try a burger too,” you shrug at his words and agree. and just like that, james’ moment was taken away before it even started. it doesn’t help that when you get your drink, keonho takes a sip from YOUR straw. has the guy ever heard of hygiene ?! james feels an immense feeling of deja vu swarm him, he’s going crazy. why does everyone think this is normal ??? and as keonho cuts into his half burger, james is staring him down. “hyung, do you want some ?” keonho offers and james immediately softens. “no, you eat,” james encourages him with a small smile of shame. what was he even thinking ? it seems normal because it is normal. he takes a deep breath, he really needs to tone it down.
seonghyeon : the “D+100 🥳” incident
all of you, except for martin and juhoon who were holding it in, were a puddle of tears right now. debuting was the biggest goal the group and to finally be experiencing it was insane. you had barely gotten through your family’s congrats video without crying before sobbing your way through your short thank you speech. despite james also crying, he couldn’t stand to see how your eyes became a fountain of tears. he wipes the snot away from his nose before walking over to you, stopping in his tracks when he sees seonghyeon reach you first. the younger boy immediately engulfs you into a tight hug which you gladly return. “we made it hyeon !” you wail, crying into his shoulder. “i know !” he hiccups, hugging you tighter. james watches the whole scene, eyes still red and puffy. but instead of being upset, he smiles. “you’re such a crybaby,” you say to seonghyeon and he laughs at your words, “you’re also crying !” with that, james turns away from you two. he isn’t mad at all, this isn’t about him. this is about all of you and the hardships you’ve had to face as a group. maybe he can’t coddle and comfort you right now but he’ll do it later. yeah, later, for sure.
juhoon : the “NY food-struck” incident
new york had so much to offer. it was bustling with people, all eager to try the different yummy foods. james had mainly stayed close to you until you went with martin and seonghyeon to pommmes frites. out of every food you guys were planning to try, you were most excited for the fries so you just had to tag along. not to mention you also promised to bring keonho something back to the hotel. whilst waiting for you guys, a bright light bulb appeared in james’ head. he tried to convince juhoon to come with him to go get ice cream. not only because he wanted some but also because he overheard you saying earlier that you wanted a sweet treat. eventually, juhoon trails behind, reminding james that he’d need to pay since the fries trio has the card. james didn’t mind however, he was just excited to see your smile. he bought a cup of your favorite flavor, paying an overpriced amount of money. having to put his wallet away, james asks juhoon to hold his cone and your cup. by the time the five of you meet up again, juhoon still has your cup before holding it out to you. your face immediately brightens up as you thank juhoon, not james. “wow ju, you remembered my favorite flavor ?! thanks !” juhoon smiles at your reaction but doesn’t inform you that james was actually the one who remembered and bought it for you. and it’s not like james can outright say it, it could come off as rude. so instead, he sucks in a breath, bothered by the situation but it’s fine, just fine.
martin : the “2025 MAMA are you ready” incident
after the performance at MAMA, it’s safe to say that everyone is beyond exhausted, both physically and mentally, though some more than others. once backstage, james immediately searches for you, it just felt right. midway through his searching, he hears a familiar cough. he turns around and sees you, hands on your knees, hunched over a bucket as your eyes water from the force of your harsh cough. james immediately rushes over to you, stumbling over his own feet before placing his hand on your back. “y/n, are you-“ but before he can continue, martin comes over and holds your hair away from your face. “hyung, you go, i’ll take care of her,” martin reassures james as you continue your coughing fit which james is sure will lead to vomiting. “no i got it,” james insists on staying but martin firmly shakes his head. “you already lost your voice and i know you pushed yourself more than you should have, so please, rest. we’ll go back the dressing room once y/n feels better,” martin’s tone is assertive and it’s in these moments james remembers that martin is the group’s leader, selfless and caring for his members even if he’s also tired. and so james reluctantly accepts, feeling his stomach pool with guilt and annoyance that he wasn’t able to be the one taking care of you. he really has to do something.
the “2025_cartalk” incident
james couldn’t think of a better time than right now to confess. sure there’s a camera pointing straight at you two but he can easily go in and cut out the more intimate part of the conversation. he can feel himself start to get queasy, reliving the same situation from months ago. except now, there’s no way someone would interrupt the two of you, unless there was a drastic incident…which he hopes won’t happen. the initial interview / q&a the staff had provided went as well as it could. nothing to write home about but it was still special to james. “hey actually, could i talk to you about something ?” james asks, squeezing his bag of chips tightly. “of course, what’s up ?” you reply, moving in your seat to face him better. james pauses for a few seconds, exhaling with fear. “the truth is that i’ve been hiding something from you, well technically all of you for quite a bit.” james swallows whatever dry saliva he has in his mouth. “and you’re only telling me ?” “for now ! i’ll tell them soon, i swear,” you smile at him, encouraging him to continue. james takes a final breath, “i’ve liked you for the longest time as more than just friends and everytime i look at you, it feels like my heart is going to burst out of my chest.” finally, james had the chance to tell you his feelings. you shift uncomfortably in your seat, your smile dropping at the realization, and a single word comes out of you, “oh.”
ZHAO YUFAN ✶ 𝓛 ATE NIGHT C𝓞NVERSATIONS FOR THE PLATONI𝓒ALLY DOOMED
SYN you can handle your drunk best friend. you can handle his whining, his dramatics, even the possibility of him throwing up on your couch. what you can't handle is him looking you in the eye and start confessing every feeling he's buried since the day he met you.
❤︎ ٰ zhao yufan ⭒ f!r ‹𝟹 ⸻ the art of loving 𓈒
you're kneeling on the floor in front of the couch with three different medicine packets spread beside your knee, trying to remember which one doesn't make people drowsier than they already are.
the apartment smells faintly like alcohol and peppermint because you'd forced james to chew gum the second he stumbled through your door, swaying with one shoe untied.
a bucket sits beside the couch within arm's reach, a bottle of water balanced on the coffee table, and your phone is plugged in nearby in case he suddenly decides he's dying and needs emergency reassurance at three in the morning.
meanwhile, he's completely relaxed about the whole thing, sitting there with his head tipped back against the cushions and his hands folded over his stomach like he's on vacation instead of one bad movement away from throwing up. every few seconds he watches you move around with lazy eyes, following you silently while you mutter to yourself about electrolytes and whether soup would've been smarter than instant noodles.
"you're doing too much," he says eventually, his voice rough and sleepy as he watches you crouch by the table for the third time in five minutes.
"you said the room was spinning," you remind him without looking up, tearing open the medicine box to double check the dosage instructions again.
"yeah, but in a fun way," he replies with a lazy grin, shoulders sinking deeper into the couch cushions.
you shoot him a flat look while unscrewing the cap off the water bottle. "drink before you start speaking nonsense again."
"i've been speaking nonsense since birth," he takes the bottle from you with both hands because his coordination is terrible right now, fingers brushing yours for a second too long.
you sigh and move closer, pushing his hair back from his forehead because it keeps falling into his eyes every time he blinks. he lets you do it without complaint, sitting unusually still while you stretch the soft headband over his head and tuck the loose strands away from his face.
the second your fingers brush near his ears, he closes his eyes with a dramatic exhale almost like you've just granted him peace after years of suffering.
you ignore him and lean back to inspect your work, making sure nothing's bothering his skin because drunk james becomes weirdly sensitive to everything. his gaze stays fixed on you the entire time, heavy and unfocused but quieter than usual and that makes you nervous.
"you're pretty," he says suddenly, staring at you with the kind of sincerity only drunk people seem capable of.
you don't even look up from the medicine packets in your lap. "you're drunk. you must be seeing things."
"no, i mean it," he insists softly, brows furrowing slightly, hating that you brushed it off so quickly.
"mhm," you hum absentmindedly, pretending to focus very hard on reading the back of the medicine box.
"did i ever tell you that before?" he asks after a pause, voice quieter as he tilts his head against the couch.
you pretend not to hear him, too busy rearranging things on the table that honestly don't need rearranging anymore. the bucket is already in the perfect spot, the water bottle is full, and the medicine instructions are facing upward so even half asleep you could read them, but keeping your hands occupied feels safer than acknowledging the softness in his voice.
james watches you for another long moment before shifting slightly on the couch, the blanket sliding down one shoulder as he tilts his head. his eyes look glossy under the dim light, but there's something oddly awake about the way he's staring at you.
you can already tell he's about to start talking again, and drunk people always say things they don't remember later. right?
"the first time i met you," he starts slowly, eyes drifting toward the ceiling, "i thought you hated me."
you snort quietly at his words. "because i did."
"no, you didn't," he argues, shaking his head against the couch cushion with sleepy confidence.
"i remember rolling my eyes at you," you remind him, lips twitching into a small smile.
"yeah," he says with a crooked, tired grin, "and i liked you immediately because of it."
you finally glance over at him properly, and he's smiling to himself, probably replaying the memory in his head. his fingers tap lazily against the water bottle while he talks, words slightly slurred but still clear enough for you to understand every single one.
outside, rain taps softly against the windows, filling the spaces between his sentences while you stay crouched beside the couch listening. he looks strangely boyish like this, hair pushed back with the ridiculous plush headband and cheeks warm from alcohol and exhaustion. it makes him easier to look at and harder to ignore at the same time.
"you were sitting in the corner at that stupid party," he continues, blinking slowly as his gaze drifts back to you. "everyone else was trying so hard to look cool, and you looked miserable."
"i was miserable," you admit dryly, leaning your shoulder against the side of the couch.
"and you kept glaring at me every time i got loud," he says, sounding far too amused by that fact.
"you were very very loud," you point out, remembering exactly how unbearable he'd been that night.
"but you still handed me your charger when my phone died," he murmurs, smile softening at the edges.
you remember that night embarrassingly clearly once he mentions it. he'd spent nearly an hour making people laugh in the middle of the room while you sat on the armchair wishing your friend would finally decide to go home already.
at some point he'd dropped onto the floor beside you out of nowhere, smiling like you'd been friends for years, and asked if you had a charger because his phone was 'on spiritual life support.' you expected him to leave after that, but instead he stayed beside you talking nonsense until two in the morning, counting your silence as participation.
looking back on it, that was probably the first mistake either of you made.
james watches recognition settle across your face and laughs softly to himself.
"i remember thinking," he murmurs, rubbing sleepily at one eye, "‘she's mean, but like . . . in a pretty way.’"
"you're actually unbearable drunk," you tell him, even while heat creeps annoyingly into your face.
"no, no, listen," he says quickly, lifting a hand toward you as if trying to physically stop you from brushing him off again.
"you need water, not a confession, james," you mutter, reaching over to push the bottle closer to him anyway.
"i thought you were the kind of person who'd leave early and never talk to me again," his voice drops softer near the end that you almost miss it over the rain. the joking tone fades little by little until he's just looking at you with tired honesty sitting heavily behind his eyes.
you stop fussing with the medicine box and lean back against the couch instead, arms resting loosely over your knees while he talks.
"but then you kept showing up, you know?" he starts blinking heavily while his thumb rubs against the condensation on the water bottle. "you answered my messages even when they were stupid."
"yeah, they usually were stupid," you reply quietly, unable to stop the small smile pulling at your mouth.
"you remembered things about me," he continues, eyes still fixed on you.
"well, someone had to," you joke weakly, trying to lighten the sudden heaviness in the room.
"and every time i thought maybe you were getting tired of me, you'd do something that proved you weren't."
for a second neither of you says anything after that. the apartment falls quiet except for the distant hum of the refrigerator and the rain outside your windows.
your bestfriend stares at you with heavy eyelids, looking seconds away from passing out, but knowing him and his stubbornness, he will fight sleep just to keep talking.
"you make me feel safe," he says quietly, gaze dropping toward his hands for the first time.
your breath catches before you can stop it. "okay. you're definitely drunk."
"i know," he agrees with a small, tired smile, looking back up at you again. "still true, though."
"you should sleep before you start getting emotional. don't wanna see you cry your eyes out," you mumble, looking away first because holding eye contact suddenly feels impossible.
you don't know if he'll remember any of this tomorrow morning, and honestly you're not sure which possibility is worse. because if he forgets, then this becomes yours alone to carry.
"i met you and suddenly wanted to stay alive long enough to see you again the next day," he says softly. "that's kinda emotional already."
you stare at him for a long second, completely speechless for once in your life. he just blinks slowly back at you from under the ridiculous headband, looking so calm after casually dropping something devastating into the middle of your living room.
then, like the universe deciding you've suffered enough emotional damage for one night, his expression abruptly twists. you react instantly, grabbing the bucket and shoving it toward him while he groans and folds forward.
"oh my— waitwaitwait," you mutter, scrambling closer while holding the bucket steady in front of him. "there he is."
"i think i'm dying," he groans into his hands, voice muffled and pathetic.
he stays folded over the bucket for another minute, breathing dramatically like he's just survived something life threatening instead of one too many drinks and a bad decision involving tequila.
you sit beside him on the couch, one hand rubbing slow circles against his back while the other keeps the water bottle balanced on your knee.
his hair keeps slipping out from under the headband no matter how many times you push it back, strands sticking slightly to his forehead from the warmth in the room.
the second he leans away from the bucket, you immediately hold the water toward him with narrowed eyes because you already know he's going to fight you on this for absolutely no reason. sure enough, he squints suspiciously at the bottle.
"drink," you tell him firmly, nudging the bottle closer to his chest.
"i don't want it," he complains instantly, voice rough as he sinks deeper into the couch.
"you just threw up."
he turns his head away the second you try to hand it to him. you stare at him in disbelief before grabbing his jaw lightly to force him to look at you again. his skin feels warm under your fingers, cheeks flushed from alcohol and exhaustion, eyes half-lidded in stubborn refusal.
normally he's annoying in a loud, energetic way, but drunk james becomes difficult like a sleepy child fighting bedtime.
"james, please," you sigh tiredly, scooting a little closer so he can't avoid you as easily.
"i said no," he mutters immediately, keeping his eyes fixed somewhere near the floor instead of looking at you.
"you need water."
"i need the room to stop moving first," he complains weakly, pulling the blanket higher over himself.
"you're making this harder than it has to be."
"nah."
"please just one sip," you plead, trying to push the bottle back into his hands again. "you're going to wake up feeling horrible tomorrow."
he groans softly under his breath but still refuses to take it from you. you reach over, brushing his hair back again because it's sticking to his forehead from sweat. the second your fingers touch him, he goes quiet. his eyes close briefly like he's trying to focus on that instead of the nausea twisting through him.
"just a sip and i'll stop bothering you. promise."
"you never stop bothering me," he murmurs lazily.
"i'm serious."
"so am i."
"okay, james—"
"i like you."
the words cut cleanly through the middle of your sentence. your hand freezes around the water bottle while he keeps looking at you with this awful honesty that makes it impossible to pretend he's joking.
the room suddenly feels too warm, too quiet, every sound outside the apartment fading underneath the sharp pounding in your chest. james doesn't look away after saying it either. if anything, he looks relieved.
"you're drunk," you say quickly, forcing your expression into something unaffected even while your chest tightens painfully.
"i know i'm drunk," he says quietly, his brows pulling together slightly. "but i'm not confused."
"you don't mean that."
"yes, i do. i've meant it for a long time."
you look away first. "james . . . "
he watches you carefully, trying to decide whether he should stop talking while he still has the chance. but something about the way your fingers tighten around the water bottle must give you away a little because his expression softens instead of shutting down.
he leans his head back against the couch again with a quiet exhale, eyes fixed on the ceiling for a second before drifting back to you.
"i think i realized it the night you stayed with me at the hospital."
months ago, sometime past midnight, james had called you sounding strangely calm after getting into a minor accident on his way home. he kept insisting he was fine, said it wasn't serious, told you not to come because he'd probably get discharged soon anyway.
you completely ignored him, of course. you showed up at the hospital twenty minutes later still wearing pajama pants and mismatched flip flops because you left so fast you hadn't even noticed.
"you were angry at me," he continues quietly, eyes lowering toward his hands. "like genuinely angry."
"because you got hurt."
"no," he says softly, shaking his head once. "because you were scared."
you swallow hard but say nothing.
"i think nobody's ever looked at me like that before." he's talking slowly, carefully, like each sentence costs him something to admit out loud.
you remember sitting beside his hospital bed at two in the morning while fluorescent lights buzzed overhead and he kept trying to joke around despite the cut near his eyebrow and the bandages wrapped around his wrist. you'd spent hours pretending to be annoyed with him because being angry was easier than admitting how terrified you'd felt getting that phone call.
"you stayed the entire night even after i told you to go home and you fell asleep sitting in that horrible chair beside me."
you look down at the water bottle in your hands.
"and every time i woke up," he continues softly, "you were still there. i remember thinking that if i lost you someday, i genuinely wouldn't know what to do with myself."
there's nothing playful about his words anymore, nothing easy to laugh off or blame on alcohol. he looks exhausted saying it, eyes slightly red from being sick and tired and maybe from holding this inside for too long.
you don't think you've ever heard him sound this vulnerable before. james is always the person filling silence, making people comfortable, making everything lighter than it really is. but right now he sounds almost scared.
"you make everything feel less lonely," he admits quietly.
your throat feels tight suddenly.
"you made me want to tell you everything first. good things, bad things, dumb things. half the time something happened and my first thought was literally just ‘i need to tell her.’" he laughs weakly to himself before looking down again. "and whenever you got quiet or pulled away even a little, i'd spend the entire day wondering if i did something wrong. did i fuck something up? was it something i said?"
"you shouldn't say things like that drunk," you whisper.
his eyes lift back to yours immediately at that. there's something devastating about how serious he looks. it's almost like he's been waiting forever to say this and hates that it's happening under circumstances where you can dismiss it tomorrow if you want to.
he shifts slightly closer without seeming to realize he's doing it, shoulders brushing yours lightly beneath the blanket. "i tried not to like you. i really did."
"james," you say again because it's the only thing your brain can manage.
"but then you started becoming part of every important thing in my life without even trying. and one day i realized that every version of my future somehow had you in it."
"you take care of me even when i make it difficult," he murmurs, eyes flicking briefly toward the untouched water bottle still in your hands. "you remember things about me. you stayed."
your chest feels painfully tight, heartbeat uneven while he watches your expression carefully, bracing himself for rejection.
you stare at him for another long second before finally loosening your grip on the water bottle. he watches your face carefully while you unscrew the cap. you try not to think too hard about the fact that your hands are shaking a little when you hand the bottle over.
"and i think," he says slowly, almost embarrassed by how honest he sounds, "a part of me started loving you because of that long before i admitted it to myself."
he glances at the water bottle again. "can i have the water now?"
"here," you murmur quietly, finally placing it into his hands.
"thank you," he says just as softly, fingers brushing yours for a second before pulling away. he takes a slow sip of water while you sit beside him trying very hard to keep your breathing normal.
you glance away first again because looking at him too long suddenly feels dangerous. beside you, he swallows carefully before lowering the bottle into his lap.
"there," you say quietly, mostly because the silence is starting to make you awake of everything. "see? that wasn't difficult."
"i think i'm too exhausted to fight you anymore," he murmurs with a faint tired smile.
"that's dramatic."
"you like dramatic."
"i tolerate it."
he lets out a quiet laugh, but it fades quickly. his thumb rubs absently against the side of the bottle while his gaze drifts downward again.
"can i say something selfish?" he asks after a long pause.
you glance at him carefully. "you already confessed. i think we passed selfish a while ago."
he let's out a weak laugh, staring down at the water bottle in his hands for a moment before finally speaking.
"i really, really want it to be me someday," he admits softly. "the person that gets to stay beside you."
your chest tightens immediately.
"but if it isn't . . . " he pauses briefly, jaw tightening a little before he continues. "if somebody else makes you happier than i can, then i think i'd still be okay with it."
you blink at him quietly, caught off guard by the steadiness in his voice.
"because i like seeing you happy more than i like the idea of you liking me back."
you know he's not saying it in some self-pitying way or trying to make himself sound noble. if anything, he looks almost embarrassed admitting it out loud. like he hates that loving you has become something so genuine it stopped being about what he gets in return.
"that's a really sad thing to say," you murmur after a second, trying to keep your voice light even though it comes out softer than intended.
"it's true, though," his shoulders lift slightly in a helpless shrug.
"you shouldn't just accept that."
"i'm not accepting it." his eyes linger on your face before drifting away again. "i'm saying i wouldn't want you to stay with me out of guilt if your heart was somewhere else."
it's clear that he wants you to understand exactly what he means without making this harder for you than it already is.
"i think . . . " he exhales quietly. "i think loving someone should feel kind, even when it hurts."
you stare at him silently.
"my feelings for you were never supposed to become your responsibility. i never wanted you to feel trapped because i couldn't shut up about them."
"you're not trapping me."
"but i don't want you sitting here panicking because you think you owe me an answer tonight either."
that shuts you up immediately because unfortunately he's right. your thoughts have been spinning ever since he confessed, emotions crashing into each other too fast for you to sort through properly.
and even now, james is more worried about making sure you're comfortable than protecting himself from getting hurt.
"you know what my favorite thing is?" he asks suddenly.
"what?"
"when you laugh so hard you hide your face."
you groan quietly. "i don't do that."
"you do," he says with a tiny smile. "every time."
"and when you're excited about something, you start talking really fast."
you shake your head immediately, but he just looks amused in that sleepy, affectionate way that makes it impossible to argue with him properly.
you glance down at your hands.
"and you pretend you're cold whenever you want someone to stay close to you longer."
"that's not true."
"it is. i notice everything about you."
he says it so simply too, without expecting anything for it. maybe to james, paying attention to you was the easiest thing he'd ever done.
"i don't know," he murmurs. "i just— i think you deserve someone who looks at you and feels lucky every single day. if one day that's somebody else . . . then i'll still be glad they found you first before the world got mean enough to change you."
you look at him helplessly while he smiles softly to himself, already accepting something you haven't caught up to yet. there's no bitterness in his voice when he talks about losing you to somebody else someday.
"because you're good," he finishes quietly. "you don't even realize how good you are."
you can tell he's getting sleepier by the second, the water bottle loose in his hands. his words are slower, softer, shoulders sinking deeper into the couch cushions
you should probably make him sleep properly soon. instead, you stay exactly where you are.
he's debating whether to say one more thing before finally letting himself rest. then his mouth curves into something faint and sad all at once. "do you remember that charity gala thing martin tried setting us up for?"
your brows pull together immediately. of course you remember.
it had happened many months ago during one of your friend group dinners when everyone decided it would apparently be funny to pair the two of you together for the annual winter charity gala. couples tickets were cheaper, your friends had argued. besides, you and james were already attached at the hip anyway. the entire table had erupted into teasing almost instantly.
"oh my god, no," you'd said back then between embarrassed laughter while everyone kept talking over each other. "james would actually hate that."
you remember how easy it was to brush off at the time. how harmless it felt. just another joke. another thing to laugh away before anyone looked too closely at why your face had gone warm so suddenly.
beside you now, james smiles weakly, remembering the exact same thing. "you laughed so fast. was the idea of us together that ridiculous?"
"it wasn't like that," you say before you can stop yourself.
he shakes his head gently, still smiling. "no, i know. you didn't mean anything bad by it."
you swallow hard.
"but i remember everybody looking at me after you said no." his fingers tighten slightly around the bottle. "so i laughed too."
you remember him leaning back in his chair that night, grinning easily while waving your friends off like the idea amused him too. he'd joked about how unbearable you'd be as a date. everyone laughed and the conversation moved on quickly after that.
but sitting here now, hearing him talk about it like this, you suddenly wonder how much effort it took for him to sound casual back then.
"if the decision was only up to me," his eyes are unfocused, drifting through the memory more than speaking to you directly, "i would've said yes."
james lets his head fall back against the couch again with a tired exhale, exhaustion finally winning against the alcohol and emotions keeping him awake this long. still, he keeps talking anyway.
"i wanted to say yes so badly. it was embarrassing. i remember thinking . . . " he pauses, blinking slowly. "i remember thinking that if you'd looked at me for even one second like you wanted me there, i would've agreed immediately."
your fingers curl tightly in your lap.
"but you laughed first."
the worst part is that you remember why you laughed. not because the idea sounded impossible or because you didn't want it.
you don't know what to say to that.
"you should've told me," but the words feel painfully insufficient the second they leave your mouth.
"i couldn't. you looked so sure."
you'd laughed because everybody was staring, because your heart had jumped into your throat too quickly, because the idea of people noticing how much james already mattered to you had terrified you more than the joke itself.
but he didn't know that. all he saw was you rejecting the possibility before he even got the chance to want it openly.
"and i . . . i think i liked you too much already to hear you reject me twice in one night."
you look down quickly because suddenly your eyes burn. james shifts slightly closer without thinking, his shoulder pressing more fully against yours.
"if it was up to me," he says again, sleep beginning to pull at every word, "i would've said yes."
he blinks heavily, fighting to keep his eyes open while his fingers slowly loosen around the water bottle. the confession seems to have drained the rest of his energy.
"i would've gone with you. would've worn whatever stupid suit they wanted." his head tilts slightly until it rests against your shoulder without him realizing.
"if it was up to me," barely awake, he keeps mumbling the same thing over and over. "i would've said yes."
"i would've stayed beside you the whole night. would've said yes immediately if it was my choice." the words start slurring together near the end, exhaustion finally overtaking him.
you stay frozen beside him while his breathing gradually slows, warm against your shoulder.
maybe if he says it enough, someday you'll finally say yes. maybe if he says it enough, he'll finally get the happiest night of his life instead of just dreaming about it.
"always yes with you."
he says one last time before sleep takes him completely, handing the dream over to another universe because this one never gave it to him.
