#CHoi Youngjae fanfic

[kookinglikeachef]

GOT7 reaction to someone badmouthing their s/o

Ot7 reactions

kookinglikeachef: Really missed these 7 chaotic divas!

Mark:

He doesn’t do all that talking. They either square tf up or stfu. He’s not trained in martial arts for nothing. Ever heard of the roundhouse flying laptop or the air con strike? Talk about his s/o and find out. He dare them.

Jay B:

No words would be said. Fuck with lawyer Lim’s s/o? They’d wake up one day and they’re losing everything. Their job, home, friends. SHUNNED by society. It doesn’t matter. Any other day he would've served them a two piece and a biscuit and we ain't talking food.

Jackson:

OH, so you wanna BOX?! Shits gonna turn into Waffle House. So when he hears them talking. He’s ready to fuck shit up. “Keep my s/o’s name out of your fucking mouth.” And hit them with the Will Smith cause tf they think this is?

Jinyoung:

DISGUSTED FACE. He is utterly disgusted and you know the face I’m talking about. He’s gonna beat them with the ahgabong. Really wants to murder them. Probably does. And he’ll get away with it, too.

Youngjae:

Laughs at them. Like head thrown back, chin touching his chest laughing. Calls up his sister so she can laugh at them too. Whoever was talking bad about his s/o is gonna wish they didn’t. Finds them the next day with his s/o and the rest of GOT7 so they can all point and laugh at the mf since they wanna be so desperate for attention.

Bambam:

“Oh you wanna talk about mothers! It’s mother time. Okay. Your mother so dumb-” he’s gonna roast them to no end and make a whole performance of it. Then it becomes a trend. Their life will be a living hell if someone’s smacking their gums about his s/o. Only he’s allowed to badmouth his s/o (lovingly).

Yugyeom:

Stomp stomp stomp little bitch. He’s not letting someone talk about the love of his life like that. And he’s been taking boxing? Will knock them tf out if he has to but he’s cocky and lets his height do all the talking for him. Learned it from his hyungs. (But if they’re bigger or stronger, then he’s 100% crying). Hope his s/o can handle their own.

[tangerineastronaut]

Hi! I saw you take requests.

May I request something with GOT7 Jackson Wang and best friend!reader, in which the reader starts developing feelings for him and start thinking he’s the one for her? <3

Friends, Just for Now | Jackson Wang (Part 1)

The one where your best friend can't keep his secret anymore (and you're oblivious).

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 6.6k (oops) Warnings: Cheating (not between jackson and reader), lots of profanity, nicknames, namecalling, minor injury, reader wouldn't know love if it smacked her in the head, holy shit they're kind of annoying af A/N: this was so fun to write, love me a good idiots friends to lovers. I'm also cheesy af, feel free to call me out. Please excuse any errors there may be, I usually proofread after posting. ❣️The love I received on my yunho imagine has literally made me do happy dances, I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 8 years and you guys are just literally the best. I love you all so much! Requests: Open (link below)

Part 2 is on its way!

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

🎧 FRI(END)S by V

“Come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen. You never listen.”

Two things went through your mind, though you refused to lift your head from where it was tucked against your knees. 

One, you hated that nickname. Pie. He thought it was so cute, and it probably would’ve died off had you not reacted to it the way you did. One missed smear of cherry on your nose 3 years ago and suddenly you’ve been christened. It was his favorite story to tell. 

And two, Jackson Wang was going to get his shit rocked if he didn’t leave you alone. 

“Fuck off,” you say bitterly, pulling further into yourself.

He was right. He had warned you.

You’d hoped Leejin was different, that the rumors were just exaggerated. Surely he didn’t cheat on every girlfriend…right?

“Wrong,” Jackson had laughed. “He’s a fucking dog, y/n.”

You’d rolled your eyes, and then Jackson said three words to you that had kind of hurt. Not kind of. A lot. They’d hurt a lot. 

“You’re not special.”

Leejin was so nice, he was smart and funny and headed for a successful career with his family’s business (so what if his parents probably paid off the school to make sure those student conduct violations never stuck). You wanted to be special. Spent 4 months trying to be. It wasn't an eternity, but you tended to put your whole heart into everything, and it almost always ended up like this.

But Jackson’s words rang true, painfully so, when you received a text from an unknown number earlier today—screenshots of messages between Leejin and some girl, including explicit photos. The unnamed person had said nothing else; you wondered if it was the girl from the screenshots, but you didn’t reply. You simply texted Leejin to go fuck himself before blocking him on everything, running straight home to your apartment, praying that Jackson wasn’t there. He was, of course, as you split the rent. You hated the look on his face when you barged in, nose red and snotty from crying.

It wasn’t smug, it was just…"come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen." 

You heard him sigh now, no doubt running a hand through his hair. It was blonde; you’d made fun of him at the time he'd dyed it though begrudgingly had to admit it suited him. But he was going to be bald before he was 40 if he didn’t stop tugging at it when he was stressed.

“Hey. Hey, stop. I hate it when you cry, you know, makes my joints hurt or something,” he says, kneeling beside you.

The fuck…? What does that even—

But you were too upset to stop, so he muttered under his breath, poking at your head until you whipped it up to slap him away. He looked like such a boy, hugging his knees and giving you a pleading look. Fine. Bastard.

You sighed and uncurled yourself, your knees screaming from the pain of turning into a human rollie pollie for the last half hour. Jackson sighed as well, no doubt relieved that you weren’t ugly crying anymore. 

He waited until your sniffles were a few minutes apart before moving, sitting criss cross on the floor. His brown eyes were soft, a rarity, truly, though you knew he was already formulating ways to tease you about this when it was more irritating than painful. 

“Done?” he asks, more to comfort himself than you. You sniff and nod, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Well, his sleeve. He made a face, realizing that you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, but made the apparent decision to yell at you later. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” you mumble, resting your cheek on your knee.��

“When am I ever?”

“Jackson, I swear to fucking—”

“I didn’t say anything, pie.”

“If you don’t drop that god damned nickname, it was one time, one little bit of cherry filling, I don’t even like cherry pie, you’re so fucking annoying—”

It was his turn to interrupt, but he didn’t. He just watched you, an irritating twinkle of amusement in his eyes. You scoffed and tucked your face away again, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that. Or at all, really. If there was one thing you’d learned after being friends with him for so long…the asshat had some eyes on him. Had this way of using his gaze to set the mood, able to stop your arguments or rile you up with micro expressions like an olympic gold medalist of manipulation. 

“Want some ramen?” he asks, tilting his head as though speaking to a kicked dog. You crinkle your nose without looking at him. “Want some cake? Some candy?”

“I want you to leave me alone,” you grumble. 

“Want a bath?”

You sigh, refusing to humor him with an answer he already had. He snapped his fingers like he’d just solved the equation of the century, having the audacity to ruffle your hair as he stepped over you unnecessarily to get to the door. You could hear him down the hall, the sound of the bathroom cabinets opening and closing, the water running, hopefully set on hot like you liked. 

“You're out of bath bombs,” he called. You frown. 

“I’m not, they’re under the sink.”

“Why’d you move them? Next to your menstrual equipment, eww.”

That’s why. You felt sorry for whatever unfortunate woman Jackson decided to wife up—the man was addicted to hot baths and cotton candy bath bombs. You’d have to move them again though, now that he knew about your stash. Besides, you’d sent him to the shop more than a few times when you were cramping and out of pads (and chocolate); he would not be impeded by them.

Jackson was waiting for you by the time you dragged yourself to the small shared bathroom. He bowed dramatically, gesturing toward the tub which was steaming hot, as you liked—a meal’s gotta cook. 

You mumble a thank you as he walks past, though he pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed.

“Get naked, and give me my damn sweatshirt,” he says, pointing accusingly at you. You pout, immediately clutching your pearls.

“Is that why you never get laid? Jesus, would’ve thought you were smoother than that,” you huff. He impatiently tugs at your sleeve, rolling his eyes in that sassy way that always made you giggle and made him more irritated—a win win scenario. 

“It’s a $30 shirt, not a snot rag…pie.”

“You’re a snot rag,” you mumble. You turn your back to him, crossing your arms at the hem and tugging it over your head. You were still in a bra thankfully, though still covered your chest as you tossed the material at him. 

Jackson caught it smoothly, though he wasn’t even looking at the sweatshirt. You didn’t realize he was looking at you until you reached for the button of your jeans. His eyes weren’t lower than your lips, but he looked a little…off. You expected a joke about a food baby or maybe how pale you’ve gotten, but he says nothing. 

“Hello?” you say, shaking your head. “Is that all? Want my pants too? Gonna do my laundry for a change?”

Jackson blinks like his brain finally returned to his skull. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head and backing out of the doorway. Before he closed the door, however, his eyes leveled with yours, so intense it made your breath catch in your throat. Was he mad? Over a sweatshirt?

“Leejin is a fucking idiot,” he says before turning on his heel and heading down the hall. 

You stare at the spot where he stood, even after he’s gone. The hell was his problem now?

By the time you’ve finished your glorious bath, you waltz into the living room like a princess. Jackson looks up from his place on the sofa, deadpanning and tossing his phone on the coffee table as he takes in the freshly purloined hoodie you're sporting.

“Gonna lock my closet,” he says, shaking his head. You beam at him, cutely crinkling your nose as you pad to the kitchen. You tug open the fridge, thinking maybe you could cook something simple for the two of you. It was kind of late to make anything grand, but you wanted more than ramen. 

The empty shelves make your eye twitch. 

“Seriously?” you huff, gesturing around. “Would it kill you to get groceries once?”

“You always complain when I do,” Jackson shrugs, flicking through netflix with the remote. “Got the wrong brand, got too many, didn’t get enough—”

“I always text you a detailed list, but whatever,” you grumble, low enough that it doesn’t provoke a response. “Since you’re a big man baby incapable of buying groceries, you can buy us something at the convenience store.”

“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. 

“Of what? Weaponized incompetence? I agree, get dressed,” you hum. 

Ten minutes later, you’re walking side by side down to the convenience store. The apartment’s location was perfect—five minutes from campus one way, five to a 24 hour convenience store another. Perfect because you both had a habit of wanting to come home when you were drunk after a party, starved and craving foods that you’d regret the next day. 

The doors chimed a welcome as they slid open, allowing you inside. You made a beeline for the sweets, Jackson went straight for the energy drinks. 

You perused the aisle for a few minutes, making your choice and going to find your roommate. You rounded the corner and froze. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to block someone in real life. So while you’d never see Leejin’s social media posts, it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t run into him on a saturday night at the convenience store near your apartment. 

You feel a mix of emotions—anger, shame, disbelief among them. You knew it wasn’t impossible, it wasn’t even unlikely, as this store was one of only a few. But it felt so damn unfair that he’d happen to be here, hours after you found out about what he’d done. 

“Is that all you’re getting?” Jackson snorts, frowning as he eyes your bag of chips. But he notices your stillness, following your gaze to see Leejin, casually chatting on the phone as he looks at the protein bars.

You expect him to snort, maybe make a comment just loud enough for the other to hear before pulling you away, but Jackson surges forward so quickly he nearly knocks you over. You grab his arm, both to steady him and stop him from…whatever the hell he’s doing. 

“Where are you going?” you whisper, tugging him back with as much strength as you could muster. 

“He broke your heart and I’m gonna break his fucking face.”

He moves again, this time dragging you along on the linoleum floor. Fortunately, Leejin is too preoccupied with his call to notice. The thought makes your stomach twist, briefly wondering who he’s talking to. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out, what’s the matter with you?” you hiss, trying to shake sense into him. Jackson yanks his arm away from you, dropping the energy drinks on the nearest shelf before storming off. You stare after him, mouth agape in disbelief. 

You arrive home 15 minutes later, having hid near the bathrooms until Leejin had left. You’d bought (and paid for, irritatingly) your snacks and Jackson’s drinks, but when you shove into the apartment, it’s empty. Lights off, no sign of him. You worry for a few seconds—had he waited for you and bumped into Leejin instead? But you surely would’ve heard something outside. You opt to text him and choose to believe he’s being broody and walking through the streets like a sad music video.

> what the fuck? is your deal? Where are you??

You’re confused and groggy when someone taps at your cheek, not realizing you’d even fallen asleep on the couch. You rub at your eyes, squinting, processing the sight of Jackson standing over you, t-shirt stuck to his form, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. 

You’ve had weird dreams about him before, ones that you’d rather never speak of again, and they usually start out like this. But this Jackson rolls his eyes in a way that sweet, sweet dream Jackson would never. 

“Get up, jesus. Your back is going to hurt,” he says. You slowly sit up, realizing he’s right. Apparently not only had you fallen asleep on the couch,  but you’d fallen asleep sitting up, sleeping in an unnatural slouched position. 

“Ow…”

“Told you.”

“No it’s…hey,” you snap, waking up a bit more now that you  remember that you’re actually pissed at him. “It’s your fucking fault, what happened to you? You just disappeared! I was worried!” 

You’re surprised to see Jackson bristle. He’s not shaken easily, least of all by you, but he glances to the side and tugs at his t-shirt, separating it from his damp skin. 

“Went to the gym. Figured I should cool off,” he says. You want to be pissed at him more, say something else, but your back hurts and you’re sleepy. Plus, you’re glad to see he’s alright. Mostly.

“Whatever,” you finally grumble, trying to stretch out your neck. “What time is it?”

“Dunno, around 2 a.m.,” he replies casually. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Great,” you huff. “You go shower. I’ll go roll over and die happy now that I know you’re alive.”

You stumble down the hall to your room, sighing at the sight of your unmade bed. What was the point if you were going to mess it up anyway? You hear Jackson follow shortly after, the bathroom door opening and closing. The shower starts, and you shuffle beneath the covers. 

You wake up not long after, whining in protest as you’re jostled. 

“It’s me,” Jackson says, rudely pushing you over. “Scoot.”

You wanted to shove him away, to point out that “scoot” should be said before you rob someone of their bed, but you can’t be bothered. Besides, once he settles next to you, you realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and he smells nice and clean. 

Sleepy, groggy, annoyed, relieved, you curl against him like a bunny seeking warmth. You feel him stiffen, though you think little of it. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, not sounding the least bit tired. You couldn’t say the same for yourself, unable to open your eyes as you reply. 

“Mm. ‘s warm down here. Night night.”

You hear him sigh, then shuffle, and then he’s rolled over to face you, offering a human-made cocoon that you happily burrow into. He’s soft and warm and smells like his manly body wash—and your shampoo, damn it. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says, soft enough to count but not enough for you to notice. 

Waking up tangled with Jackson was, unfortunately (?), not all that unusual. When you were upset, you found your way to his bed, and despite his protests you knew he didn't actually mind. It went both ways—you'll die before you admit that you like it, if only because he's a human heater.

You still feel groggy, squinting and fumbling around for your phone. Such a task is difficult when there's deadweight slung over your waist, but you manage, bringing the device to your face.

10:43 a.m.

Oh good. You slept 8 hours—and half the day away, to your brain at least. You toss your phone down, debating whether or not you should just go back to sleep. You choose instead to roll over, addressing the sleeping shirtless man keeping you pinned to your bed.

Your camera roll was filled with photos just like this, because Jackson slept like a baby. Literally. Hands curled into fists, face relaxed, head tilted to the side. His blonde hair is mussed from sleeping with it wet last night, and you dodn't hesitate to run your fingers through it for no reason at all. It was soft and surprisingly thick, but you weren't about to dial back on the baldness theory.

Jackson stirred, though didn't wake up, shifting to lie on his back. Freed from your restraints, you sat up and had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Of course the curtains parted like that, of course he was sleeping like a prince now, sunlight arcing off of his jaw—it even highlighted his stubble in an annoyingly poetic way. What kind of gods were kind enough to give him of all people that face?

He really was kinda...pretty.

No, not kinda. Jackson Wang was beautiful. You were his best friend, but you weren't blind. Maybe you'd become a little numb to his charms, but you'd seen what he could do to people with just a look, even without malicious intent. He was charismatic on top of that, though you were the only one who got to see the side of him that wasn't.

The side that stole your shampoo and commandeered your bed, anyway.

So fine, you knew he was pretty. But he was kinda sorta extra pretty right now, and maybe you wanted to remember it later.

You shifted to grab your phone—a never-ending quest for material to bully each other over—but the movement apparently jostled him awake. You sheepishly smiled as he blinked a few times, using the heel of his palm to rub the blurriness away.

"Really?" he asked, voice rough, eyes leveling to the phone in your hand. "Fucking creep."

"You have like a thousand pictures of me sleeping," you point out, narrowing your eyes. Jackson nods, rolling over and hugging your waist, his head resting against your hip.

"That I do—you're cute when you drool all over yourself. I'm working on a collage."

"Asshole," you mutter, prying his arms off of you. You make an attempt to escape, but as expected, you're smoothly hauled back down.

"Where you going?"

"I need to pee, wanna come with?"

"It's early."

"It's almost 11."

"Yeah, early."

Jackson grunts before you can reply, practically placing you in a chokehold as he rolls over. You have no choice but to go with him, ending up flopped over his chest like a dead fish.

He says nothing for a moment, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. It's not difficult to squirm out of his grasp this time, though rather than allowing you to slide off, the apparently-awake-Jackson moves both hands to your hips.

Your stomach does that funny thing it sometimes does around him, like a little alarm that says 'hey! getting too close!' Listening to this alarm had prevented a lot of mistakes over the course of your friendship, mistakes like wanting to kiss him when you were tipsy, noticing the way he looked after a long workout, hair plastered to his forehead, the fuzziness you felt that time your heating pad broke, and his warm hands wound up on the lower half of your tummy to stave off the cramps.

Mistakes like that.

His eyes open again, and you do your best to look irritated.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says, suddenly unnaturally serious. "I was just trying to cool off, and my phone died, so I didn't see your text until after I got home."

You're not really sure how to respond—it was always strange when conversations got like this between you, regardless of the topic. It was so jarring, so far from the usual cracked out nonsense. You decided to nod, then shake your head, then nod again.

Jackson was a badass, most people knew as much. He was trained in martial arts and practically ate protein for every meal. But despite this, he wasn't typically an aggressive guy. You'd only ever seen him throw one punch—an ex of yours a couple years ago who threatened to post a nude photo of you. Needless to say, the guy deleted them, made difficult thanks to the blood smearing his screen as it dripped from his nose.

"It's fine, I get it," you say. "Just...why were you so mad at him? Did he do something to you?"

Jackson blinks up at you, shifting so that he's partially sitting up on his elbows.

"I told you, y/n," he says, shaking his head like you're an idiot. "He broke your heart, I was gonna break his face. You should've let me get one hit in at least."

"He didn't break my heart," you groan, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that serious, you know that. We'd only been dating for 4 months."

"...I watched you cry for an hour because someone stepped on a worm—"

"—that's different. It's literally a living little creature, what if that's someone's girlfriend, hm? What if she asked her boyfriend 'would you still love me if I was a worm' and he said yes except now they can't live wormily ever after because she's smushed all because some horrible person can't be bothered to step aside for a worm?"

Jackson stared up at you, blinking slowly, looking 175% done with your shit.

"What the fuck is wormily ever after?"

You sigh, leaning forward until your head is on his bare shoulder. You have half a mind to bite him, though you resist. You will be civil—for now.

"I don't know," you mumble. "No early birds, no hot sidewalks?"

"I....you're so fucking weird."

"Lots of guys are dickheads, but you were ready to knock him out. Really, Jackson, was that all? Promise he didn't say something to you?" you ask, voice muffled against his warm skin. Just one lil munch. It'd be good payback for him scaring the hell out of you last night.

Jackson exhales, and there's suddenly a hand tugging at your tangled mess of bedhead until you're sitting up, looking down at him.

"I wanted to kick his ass for the same reason that I never bring anyone home," he says quietly. His eyes are serious, no sparkle of humor in them, and it makes your stomach twist. You didn't like it when Jackson got serious.

"What? Because of me?" you ask. "I don't care who you fuck as long as I don't have to cook them breakfast."

Mostly true—you were afraid of walking out of your bedroom one morning and running into a really pretty girl, someone with perfect grades and clear skin, who has the audacity to be beautiful and nice. Someone only Jackson deserves. But you leave that bit out and give him a half teasing smile.

Jackson doesn't return it. He grunts, moving his hand up to tug at his hair. You slip yours beneath his, mumbling for him to stop doing that.

"You really don't?" he finally asks, swallowing hard enough that you see his throat move.

"Don't what?"

"You don't care who I fuck?"

His question catches you off guard, though not as much as the fact that he still looks dead serious. This seems like something the two of you should be laughing over—not something to talk about whilst you're currently straddling your best friend in your bed, who happens to be naked from the waist up.

"I mean...no?" you say, shaking your head in confusion. "Should I?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Should you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You didn't like riddles, and this felt like one. You'd tried to stay out of his business over the four years you've been friends, though come to think of it...you'd never met any of his girlfriends after the first six months. You'd assumed he was so busy with classes and his extracurriculars that there just wasn't much time for anything past shallow hookups.

But...you couldn't remember a single time that had occurred. He was home every night, never brought company over for that purpose.

"Jackson," you say quietly, palms resting on his chest. When the hell did he get so muscular? There was a noticable firmness beneath your fingers, and you briefly considered billing Leejin for your services in making sure he didn't get the shit beat out of him. "I feel like this is an inside joke and I'm out of the loop. You're upset? Why?"

"Why would I be?" he counters, irritatingly smooth. The hands on your hips squeeze once, like he's trying to talk to you in morse code. It's annoying.

"Quit," you mumble, biting your lower lip. "I'm trying. Stop being mean and just tell me."

He sighs, moving a hand to his face.

"If you don't already know, then it doesn't matter, alright?"

"Wh—"

You're cut off as he suddenly shifts from beneath you, leaving you tumbling to the sheets when he stands. Just like the last two times for some damn reason, he prepares to storm out of the room.

"Jackson, wait—shit."

You trip over the edge of your nightstand, catching yourself on your hands. Your lamp tumbles to the floor, thankfully not shattering on the carpet. Still, the ache brings tears to your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you sit down.

"How many times have I told you to push that against the wall!?" Jackson says, rushing over to you. You lean back against your bed, grimacing as you look at your knee. It's not the worst scrape you've ever gotten, but it is bleeding, and it burns.

"Hang on, pie." He leaves the room, and by the time he returns with the pack of bandaids and peroxide, you're covering your face with one hand and hugging your knee with the other.

"Hey, it's not so bad," he says, obviously in partial panic mode as he kneels in front of you and tugs at your ankle. He probably thought that's why you were in tears, but it was moreso the fact that he was being...just...weird, and you didn't like it.

You quietly sit there, hands over your eyes as he uses a cotton ball to dab at the blood. You don't even flinch, it doesn't burn—perks of having an MMA star for a roommate; he knew how to bandage a cut (a common occurence for your clumsy ass, unfortunately).

After a few minutes, he pats the side of your calf, and you finally uncover your eyes. There's a bandaid over the scrape now, and you let your knee fall to the side. Jackson is looking at you, and you nod.

"That's good, thanks," you mumble quietly.

"You sure?" he asks. You frown, nodding quickly. But his hand moves up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb swipes below your eye.

Tears.

That alarm goes off inside of you, but Jackson doesn't move his hand, so you let it sit there and you feel your stomach tying itself into a knot. You're a little worried it's not gonna come undone.

"I wasn't crying because of that," you say, swallowing as you glance away shamefully. "I...I don't like this, Jackson. Feels weird. If I did something to make you mad, I wish you'd just tell me—"

"I'm not mad at you," he replies. You sniff, and finally his hand slips away, though only to rest on your uninjured knee. His fingers twitch, like he wants to do something but won't let himself. Slap you, maybe, for never listening to him and always ending up hurt because of it. You would, if you were him.

"You keep running away from me," you point out, a little surge of anger from last night returning. "You keep acting like I'm supposed to know everything you're thinking, and I don't, because you won't tell me stuff. I tell you stuff, the least you could do is text me a grocery list of what the fuck is going on inside of your brain, so I'm not sitting here thinking I'm gonna lose my best friend and roommate over something I don't even know that I've done. I'm sorry we ran into Leejin, it's not like I knew he was gonna be there. I'm sorry for thinking I was special in the first place and ending up where you said I'd be."

Jackson sighs and tilts his head, and you hate yourself for crying more. It wasn't a big deal, things were a little crazy after yesterday. You didn't even love Leejin, it had just...hurt? Your pride? No one wants to know they're less than a second choice. But Jackson had acted like Leejin was out for his blood, and every time he runs away, it feels like he's escaping you.

"You're not gonna lose me," he finally says, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I've got a lot of shit to work through, you know? It's not...it's not your fault though."

"Like what?" you ask, worry lining your brow. "If you'd just—is it money? Because we can figure out rent—"

"It's not money," he interrupts. "I promise, it's nothing like that."

"Then what?" You huff, a little more irritated than concerned. "Parents? Grades? Girl trouble?"

"Yeah," he nods, licking his lips. "That last bit."

"Girl trouble?" you ask, somewhat surprised. For some reason, the fact that he hadn't told you about a girl bothered you more than the idea that there was one at all. You shared everything with him; if he'd kept her a secret, it had to have been a little more serious.

"Do I know her?" you ask tentatively. Please say no, I don't want to go through a list of the hottest girls I know.

"Yeah," he replies. Fuck.

"Oh. How long have you been dating?"

"We're not."

"Then...?"

"She's an idiot."

"It's a mystery as to why you're single, really," you say, rolling your eyes. "So she's an idiot because she won't date you? Sounds kind of shallow on your end."

"She's an idiot because she keeps dating jackasses who don't give a shit about her. I don't give a damn if she ever chooses me or not," he says plainly. You frown.

"Maybe she's insecure?"

"She is. Very."

"Huh. Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful."

"Oh. Hm."

Well what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations? Sorrows, sorrows, prayers?

"Okay..." you say after a beat. You were not good with advice, especially when it came to love, obviously. He didn't say love though. Infatuation, maybe. Still, you were not an expert. "So if she keeps dating jackasses and won't date you, why do you bother? Why not just forget about her?"

Jackson's eye twitches. You don't notice.

"Hard to forget someone you see every day, pie," he says. You scoff.

"Okay, I'm calling bullshit. I'm literally the only person you see every day."

"Mhm."

"Then you're lying?" you ask. Jackson deadpans.

"Please, for the love of god, never reproduce."

"Rude," you mutter. "Fine, so I know her, she's insecure, pretty, dates assholes, you allegedly see her everyday?"

"All of the above," he says. You frown, lips pursing as you rack your brain for answers, going through the hot insecure girls you know like a filing cabinet.

Wait.

Your eyes widen. Jackson's do the same, and then he smiles, like he's proud of you.

"Oh my god, is it Kim Sujin?" You ask, covering your mouth. "The girl with the—"

"Jesus fucking christ, y/n," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...you're fucking with me? That's what this is. You're not this dumb, right? Please say no. I feel like I'm in middle school right now, holy shit."

You open your mouth to argue, to insist he was being unfair (you didn't even like puzzles!) but he suddenly leans forward, palms cupping both of your cheeks. He pulls you toward him, nose inches from yours. You've been this close to him before, but you're suddenly dizzy now, a little out of it as you wonder if this is really happening to you—or if this is another sweaty-jackson-standing-over-me dream. Jackson, who has freckles on the tip of his nose and won't stop looking at you like that, the knot pulling tighter and tighter.

"Stop thinking before you hurt yourself. 'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" he asks.

Is that oka—?

"Kiss?" you mumble, swallowed up by those god damn pretty brown eyes. Jackson nods, head tilted, primed to kiss the cluelessness out of you, apparently. "Y-yeah, that's fine."

"It's gonna be...it's gonna be a lot, okay? Like not just a peck. You're fine with that?"

"Yep," you nod.

Jackson nods back. And then he kisses you.

He doesn't release your face, squishing your body between himself and the bed behind you. His lips press to yours, insistent and warm, though you can tell he's being cautious—if you wanted to push him away, you could. But you did not want to do that.

Because Jackson Wang was kissing you, and he's a really good kisser.

You briefly forget that you have hands, so when you remember, you waste no time in using them. One cups his jaw, feeling the edge of it press into your palm. The other fists his blonde hair, tugging it gently.

Jackson groans into your mouth, and that alarm in your belly turns into a fucking war drum. You feel the knot tighten and snap, and suddenly you're pushing him back, scrambling into his lap.

You kind of want more, kind of want to put your tongue in his mouth because he's warm and tastes good and you can only imagine how much better it would be, but he beats you to it. His tongue swipes over your lower lip and you eagerly open for him. He breathes in as soon as you do, and it feels like he's stealing your soul. Fuck it? He can have it?

It's messy, a tad bit desperate, definitely not the poetic kiss of rom coms, but you don't give a shit. It feels good, feels warm and right, like you've been kissing him in your head every day for the past 4 years.

By the time you manage to separate, you're trembling an embarassing amount. You'd blame the buzz on coffee if you'd had any, but you just hide your flushed cheeks and rest your forehead against his shoulder. You can tell that for once, Jackson's brain seems to also have short circuited, as it takes him a minute before he finally wraps his arms around you. You can hear his breath—as shaky as yours, thank god.

"Was that okay? Was it weird? Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asks, tilting back on one palm to look at you, his other arm secured around your waist. You sit up, shamelessly biting your lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes. He mistakes this for discomfort, all but shoving you out of his lap, hands flying to his hair.

"Fuck, I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to. I wasn't gonna...I'm so fucking sorry y/n, if you want me to move out—"

"You're gonna go bald," you mumble, a little blitzed out as you rest on your hands.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Stop freaking out, okay?" you offer, finally looking up at him. God he looks...scared. Hair messy, brown eyes wide. So unlike his usual cocky self that you're a little shaken, caught between wanting to protect him and wanting to kiss him again.

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" he asks softly. That alarm is now everywhere, setting off in your chest at his concerned tone. You shake your head.

"No. I'm okay," you reassure him. "A little irritated."

Jackson's head snaps up, worry on his face. You feel guilty, so you quickly clarify.

"You said I'm not special," you say quietly, looking away. "If you were talking about me just now...why did you tell me that?"

He looks confused, like he can't remember (of all the things he's said to bully you—while you kept a detailed record). But he seems to finally recall the conversation, rubbing his forehead as his lips spread into a smile.

"What's funny?" you puff.

"I meant to him, pie. You're not special to him. Not that you weren't special at all, or to...to me," he explains, looking part amused and part shy. You soften a bit, unable to help but pout.

"Then you should say that!" you say, gesturing at nothing. "You can't just go around telling people they aren't special."

"I don't make you feel special?" he asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

Well, yes, but that's not the point. You choose not to reply.

Just like most things when it comes to you, however, he already knows the answer. He looks a little too proud of himself as he reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into him. You're not quite in his lap, but you lean heavily against his side, your chin resting against his chest.

"What if we mess it up?" you ask, looking up at him. He frowns, not understanding. "Us. What if...what if we mess us up?"

"I don't see how we would," he laughs. "We're practically married."

"Gross. We are not."

"We split the bills, pie."

"Most roommates do."

"We cook together."

"Most roommates do."

"My mother loves you."

"Your mother loves everyone."

"Not true. And my father loves you."

You pause, then squint.

"Your father has good taste," you say. Jackson rolls his eyes. He looks a little conflicted, like he can't decide what's too much, what's too soon.

"I do," he says quietly.

You hate that, for once in your life, you know exactly what he's saying without him saying it. And god damn it, you feel your eyes burning.

"Don't...ugh," you whine, looking away from him. But he's not having it, taking your chin and tilting your face up. You're faced with glassy eyes that make you want to die.

You hated it when he cried. Maybe you make his joints hurt or whatever, but you've only seen Jackson cry twice, once when his family dog died, and another when he was drunk and had convinced himself you weren't his friend anymore. Both times, you'd never felt so helpless. The way you feel now.

"Y/n, I—"

"Please don't," you breathe quickly, swallowing down your tears. You immediately panic at the look on his face, like you've slapped him. But you tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head.

"No, I-I mean, I know you do, and I...I'm pretty sure I do too. I just...I can't say it now, alright?" you explain. "I'm sorry, I just—you know me better than anyone. I don't...don't wanna fuck it up, you know? I don't wanna lose you, I'm so bad, so stupid when it comes to this—"

"Hey, hey, shh..." Jackson says, gently shaking your chin. "I'm not upset, okay? Just relieved, a little scared. I don't want to fuck this up either, yeah? I want...I want what we are today and I want it tomorrow, even if that means we stay just like this."

His thumb brushes your lower lip. God, you want to kiss him again.

"No rush, pie, okay? I'll wait for you, even if..." he sucks in air and looks away, as though the idea hurts to even consider. "...even if it's never for us."

You want to kiss him again. Would that even be appropriate? After what you just said? After the emotions threatening to disrupt the foundation of your life for the past four years?

"Can...can I kiss you again?" he asks softly. You swallow and nod.

"Please."

[kpopyourcherryy]

Accuracy - Pt 4 (M)

Length: 2.9K word count

A/N: Enjoy part 4 of my Accuracy series finally after so long~ Mark and Youngjae really are something else

Kink(s): Creampie!, Dick!Drunk, Impact!Play, Praise! Kink, Degradation!, Double Penetration!, Anal!Play, Aftercare!,

A deep shudder ran through your entire form.

Every cell inside you were burning hot with a need for more- to feel all of them no matter how completely spent you were. Soft, needy pants escaped your plush lips as you laid there with your face pressed into the dampened black velvet as Jackson sinful tongue lapped up the remnants of the mess him and his Hyung had made inside you.

“Mhmmm-“ He groaned, the vibration of his voice against your cunt was just as earth shattering given just how sensitive you were.

“So good~ All mixed like this~“ He cooed, pressing hot kisses along your slit. Kissing your sore bum, before doing the same to your entrance. “Poor baby’s gonna need a break after Youngjae and Mark get a hold of her- don’t you think Jaebum Hyung?”

Though his tone seemed to have a sliver of concern for your physical wellbeing, that smug smirk plastered on his face as he watched the two men approach said otherwise.

JayB hummed, biting his lower lip as his head cocked to slight ever so slightly. His narrow, fox-like gaze trailing over your bruised and used form. He was glad to not have a partner to share you with- though it would’ve been fun to ruin you just like the others had and were about to do, he liked the thought of getting you all to himself.

Tapping his chin with his fore finger, he nodded, “How do you feel about coming and spending the night with me, y/n?” He asked, his voice smooth and silken. “We won’t have an audience though, it’ll just be you and I.” He says that like it’s a bad thing.

You nodded biting your lower lip, smiling this dick drunk-esque grin as Jackson gave your bum and encouraging caress before making his way back to his owner the second Mark and Youngjae surrounded you.

Mark chuckled at the sight you were, so disheveled and out of it— all because of them. “Well, we’ll take that as a yes.” His words came out in a playful hum as his large hand trailed up your spine, paying extra attention to just barely ghost over your warm skin.

“Our managers will take care of everything, love.” He cooed, his gaze flickering between you and Youngjae. Watching as the younger man stalked behind you, his gaze maybe even more predatory than his own as he could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “Whatcha thinking about so hard?” He grinned, knowing whatever his friend was coming up with would surely earn you a needed break.

Youngjae’s plush lips curled into a devilish grin, his canines looking so sharp in the dimmed lighting. His darkened gaze caressed your soft curves, mentally memorizing every other place he thought should be bruised and marked. “I think-“ He began in a purr, the rasp in his voice going straight to your pussy making your writhe in your spot. “I think we both deserve to be buried in this sluts tight pussy.”

SMACK!

The second the contact sounded, our audience went silent. Wanting to watch and take in every detail of what the pair were about to do to you.

His fingertips connected with your swollen cunt, his middle finger sliding down your slit only for a moment earning a simultaneous gasp from both you and him as he felt your slick coat his finger.

He slapped your pussy again, once then twice more. Each time causing you to mewl and jump at the sudden jolts of pain and much-needed friction.

Mark groaned at the sight, the way your body moved and wriggled against the tightly wound belt around your wrists, the way your makeup smeared down your cheeks from the rough face fucking you'd just endured. It all drove him so close to just saying fuck it and burying himself to the hilt inside your right then and there, but he knew his friend and his sadistic mind. He knew what he wanted to do to you was far too good to just brush off.

"Both of us?" Mark chuckled again, licking his plush lips while Youngjae's middle digit teased your sore hole, groaning at your soft gasps from the mix of discomfort and need.

The other man nodded, that smile permanent on his face. His hands roughly groped at my backside as Mark's intertwined in my hair. Grabbing a fistful, roughly lifting my head up from the soft plush velvet to meet his heavy-lidded gaze. "How does that sound to you, little y/n?" He cooed with this playful edge to his tone, he watched you carefully taking not of every little movement you made from the wriggling to the way your brows furrowed with worry. "Would you like Youngjae and I's cocks both stretching that beautiful little cunt?"

His questioning brought you back to your strange reality somehow. Your eyes fluttered open, peering up at him with a soft roundness as you couldn't muster a word. He shook your head roughly, eliciting a fear-filled yelp from you as he egged you on, yet he seemed to have taken your nervous silence as hesitation.

The pair shared a look, one you couldn't fully decipher in your state. Suddenly, Youngjae wrapped his arms around your soft waist. Tightly snaking around your gentle curves, lifting you with ease. A soft gasp left you as his strength surprised you more so than his domineering persona. He placed you on top of his friend, holding you up as Mark freed himself. His hardened length sprang free the moment he yanked down his jeans- his cock was just as pretty as he was, smooth and all a singular shade of a blushed pink with mouth-watering veins wrapping around his lengthy shaft with a pretty reddened tip.

"God-" I croaked out as I drank him in while Youngjae handed Mark control over my body. The angelic man practically purred as he helped you place yourself on top of him- lining your entrance up with him. Grasping your hips, he swiped his tongue across his lips, groaning as he watched his length disappear into your swollen cunt. Your clingy walls gripped him so tightly that --he mentally swore to himself. "Jesus fuck, y/n-" He growled as he buried himself to the base, helping you grind your hips against his pelvis- your moans mixing with his and the sounds of wetness sloshing between your connected bodies. "You've been fucked how many times tonight? And your pussy is still so fucking tight-" His words came out in a needy haste as he leaned you onto his chest, holding your trembling form so tightly as he pumped in and out of your heat- slowly and tentatively just to make sure you felt every inch of him. "And so fucking wet- I can feel you dripping down my cock."

Youngjae let out a satisfied sigh as he watched from behind. The sound of his belt coming undone- then his jeans filled the room along with the sounds of the two of you. "God Hyung.." He groaned, stroking himself as he hardened in his palm. "You should see just how fucking good her pussy looks hugging your cock." He grins nearly ear to ear as he closed the distance.

The couch dipped behind you as he knelt down on it with one knee. Using his free hand, he scooped up your leaking juices with two digits. Clicking his tongue as he brought them up to his mouth, his lips enveloping the sopping fingers. "Mhmm-" He rumbled at the sweetness of you mixed with his friends. He loved it. All of it. Watching such a pretty little thing get so ruined like this. He wanted to ruin you even more. He pressed his spit slicked digits to your tight ass hole. Chuckling as he watched you squirm.

"Should I put my cock here?" He teased, relishing in the way your tight muscle took in his fingers. Pumping them in and out slowly he continued stroking his length, reveling in the way your beautifully pathetic whines were muffled by the way his friends hand wrapped your head- keeping you in such a vulnerable position while simultaneously shutting you up. "Or..." He drawled, pulling his fingers out of your ass despite your needy muscles holding him tight. Trailing his fingers over your perineum back to your filled cunt, "Here?"

You shook your head at first, your mind and body already reeling with Mark's steady pace inside. Drawing in then out over and over in this way that already felt like too much. Two of them. At the same time?? You wouldn't survive that whatsoever. That would send you over and edge that you weren't sure you'd ever make it back from.

He leaned forward, dipping down, trailing fiery kisses up your spine sending a new wave of goosebumps all over. His lips reached your ear as Mark grunted beneath you, whispering how good you felt while his friend's words had you swirled with every emotion all over again. "Cute-" Youngjae breathlessly hummed, a dark rasped laugh vibrating against your temple as he place a rough kiss to it. "How you think you have a choice."

Your eyes instantly lulled back, his words were all too much even as Mark's movements stilled. "I'll- I'll use that in my next fanfiction about you-" Your mouth uttered despite how brain dead you felt.

The pair chuckled at your boldness, "Write about this too." Youngjae growled as Mark pulled out of you just enough to let him in. A hiss left his gritted teeth as the pair slide back into your heat together. Their lengths melded together as your tightness bound them as they inched passed each ring of resisting muscle.

The feel of them both, the burn, the stretch left you voiceless as your body instantly went limp between them. Adoring and accepting every bit of them with sharp, whined gasps and struggled breaths. "Oh- God- Fuck-" You whimpered, your words broken and still being muffled by Mark's tightened hold on your face. His fingers bruisingly pressing into your cheeks as both men let out strangled breathes, panting like feral animals at the feel of both being buried to the hilt.

"That's it-" Mark cooed, using his free hand to pet your sweat-dampened hair. "That's our girl."

The soft praise sent a wave of euphoria throughout your entire form. Your warm breathes being caught in his hand.

"Mhmm fuck baby-" Youngjae mewled, his hands massaging and groping your softness almost as if he were committing every curve to memory. "You're doing so well-" He purred as Mark dragged his nails up and down your trembling side. "-Just breath baby, let us in." They began a steady pace after allowing you a minute to adjust to the intense stretch. Every thrust earning the neediest sounds from all three of you. His gaze moved from watching the way the older man's face contorted with bliss as he held you firmly in place, but the way your eyes rolled back into your skull all over again as your body fully relaxed between them told him you were loving this just as much as they were. "Look at you-" He hummed, giving your ass a firm SMACK! as the room filled with obscene sounds. "Such a willing little fuck toy."

Mark's pace inside you quickened just as the younger man's did. Panting as his parted lips rested against your forehead, "We should fucking- take you back with us-" He grumbled through gritted teeth, "We should take you back and make your our personal little pet. Our special little pet with such a pretty hole to fuck whenever we want." He added, released your mouth only to hear your moans become louder and louder as they picked up the pace. "Fill you with our cum~ Every. Fucking. Day." He grunted, slapping your cheek, "We'd take such good fucking care of you."

"Would you like that, slut?" Youngjae growled from behind, his hips snapping- both men pounding into you. "Would you like being taken away and used by your favorite idols whenever we want?" He smacked your ass again earning a pained cry from you, rubbing the reddening area as if to try and soothe the sting. "We'll treat you like a princess, y/n."

Your head buzzed as their assault had you seeing stars. Your body warmed as another orgasm was barreling towards you whether you wanted to cum again or not. "Y-Yes- please-" You whimpered, your voice somehow even more desperate sound then as their movements became harsh- each thrust harder than the last.

Suddenly, just as you were about to fall over the edge, their movements came to a standstill. Youngjae pulled out of your well used cunt, allowing Mark to turn you onto your back, laying you back down on top of him- his cock still planted inside you. Licking his lips, your dazed eyes met Youngjae's predatory glare- his own glazed over with need. "There ya go-" He mumbled, pressing his manhood back inside you, sighing at your warmth enveloping him. "I want to see that pretty face when I cum inside you."

Their pace started all over again, Mark's hand returned to your mouth, muffling your sounds as his freehand held one of your thighs apart giving him and the other man better access.

You became an absolute mess as you felt every bit of them. Every inch, every ridge every vein. Taking them both like this left you feeling so much more than you thought possible. "Ah~ Hngh~~" You moaned against Mark's palm. Saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, leaking down your chin as your high raced towards you. Your body trembled, your walls tried clamping down on their members as ecstasy washed over you, yet it was futile with how stretched you were around them.

"Fuck, kitten-" Mark growled beside your ear, his pace quickening with his friends. Both trying to keep up the same speed inside you, both desperate for their own highs. "I felt that- felt your sweet little cunt cum all over us."

You fervently nodded, taking shaken breathes as their pace refused to let you ride out your orgasm in peace.

"Shit-" Youngjae cursed, a snarl plastering his sweet features as the became unforgiving. "-I'm about to cum. What about you, Hyung?"

Mark nodded against you, planting frantic little kisses along the side of your face, a silent praise to just how good your body made them feel. "Gonna cum- so fucking much-" He mewled, the pair drilling into you with erratic thrusts. Their grunting and rasped growls music to your ears.

"Look at me." Youngjae demanded down to you, his hand grasping at your legs so tightly as their hips began to sputter. "Eyes on me when we cum so fucking-" He punctuated his words with a violent thrust eliciting a throat shredding gasp from me. "-deep in your pretty pussy, y/n."

Your gaze floated upward, refocusing from the obscene sight that was your bodies connecting to his angelic face. His eyes locked with yours as the pair drove themselves as deep as they could possibly manage, lewd whines leaving them as they filled you to the absolute brim with ropes of their release. Coating every bit and ridge inside you just as your essence dripped from from.

Mark's head rested back against the cushion as Youngjae caged the both of you between his arms, steadying himself not to just collapse on top of the two you. "Holy fuck-" They said in sync, the pair laughing as if they didn't just destroy your pussy.

Your head laid back against Mark's shoulder, lulling to the side, as he moved his hand from your mouth grazing your jaw before wrapping possessively around your throat.

"Good fucking girl, y/n." Mark muttered against your ear lobe, nipping it slightly as he kissed the side of your face again.

Youngjae smirked, raising a hand to gently massage your breast, cupping the globe in his hand as his fingers rolled over your hardened bud, "Such a good fucking slut-" He gave your breast a soft slap as he leaned down, planting a soft peck to the inner side of your knee then again against your calf. "You take dick so fucking pretty."

Somehow, in some twisted way, their praise after so thoroughly defiling you felt so good. It did nothing but make you want to do more to earn more and more from them.

Slowly, they pulled out, the three of you hissing as the cool air brushed against your well used cunt. Gently Mark laid you down onto the couch, leaning down as he tucked his softening cock back into his jeans, finally kissing your lips so sweetly before pulling away to allow Youngjae the same privilege. His hand brushed through your hair, comforting you as you laid there so spent. Your body so exhausted as tears suddenly filled your eyes, trickling down your flushed cheeks. "Jaebum-Hyung is going to take care of you for us tonight okay, princess?" He cooed, pressing his lips to yours once again. "He's going to get you all cleaned up, okay?" His hand came up to your face, cradling it so delicately before Jayb shooed him away.

His lips replaced theirs as his thumb brushed the falling tears from your cheek, "Shh, shh," He purred, though his voice and touch were so gentle- so welcomed, an edge of something else laced it. "Let's get you back to my room okay?"

~~~~To Be Continued~~~~

[slytherinshua]

EROS & PSYCHE

genre. fluff. greek god au. warnings. although it is an eros and psyche au i don't follow the actual story of psyche and eros. kissing. not proofread. pairing. eros!youngjae x psyche!fem!reader. wc. 593. request. requested by anon for #32: "one more kiss". a/n. idk why i made this a greek mythology au i just like aus okay SO I HOPE IT SLAYS. also for those of you who don't know, eros is the greek equivalent of cupid and psyche has butterfly wings sdjksd anyway.

When you heard the snap of a twig beneath your feet, you knew you were screwed. You silently cursed in your head, whipping your head up to see if he had heard the noise. Of course, he had.

He had his bow drawn straight at you, the gleaming golden arrow that he regularly drew replaced with a blunt lead one, serving the opposite purpose. Instead of making people fall in love, it would erase any desire for love and instil fear instead. The boy used it mostly to keep people from pestering him.

When he saw that it was you, though, his face brightened and he loosened his grip on the bow. Jumping down from the hill he had climbed, he jogged over to you, a boyish smile on his face.

“You need to stop sneaking away from home, Eros. Your mother keeps sending me to find you.” You hit him lightly on the shoulder, teasing him by calling him by his god name.

“Everyone tries to bribe me to make their love come true at home. I feel like I’m being used.” Youngjae shuddered, securing his bow on his hip and freeing his hands of all sharp objects. He practically bounded into your arms once he was free to do so, nearly knocking you off balance.

“I missed you, Psyche.” His words were earnest. A few days of not seeing you felt far too long for the boy more in love than even his arrows could replicate. He grinned as he pulled back, his nose scrunching slightly. His eyes wandered over your face, admiring your unmatched beauty. Your hair blew slightly in the breeze, and your butterfly wings swayed gently.

“I saved 4 marriages and got 15 new couples together in 3 days. Pretty impressive, right?” He fished for compliments, his eyes searching your face eagerly. 

“Your aim has definitely gotten better.” You smiled.

The boy scoffed, “My aim was always good. What do you mean?” You laughed, a sound that Youngjae would probably never get tired of.

“Weren’t you the same one who missed me by half a mile with an arrow?” You teased, leaning a little closer to him, eyelashes fluttering. His cheeks blossomed with pink tones from the close contact, but he was still able to think of a suitable response even in his nervous state.

“You’re in love with me now regardless. I don’t think my arrows would’ve done much when you’re already obsessed.” His words wrung true, as even in the moment you couldn’t take your eyes off his face. He was the most stunning boy you had ever seen, face suitable for that of the son of the Aphrodite. Your gaze faltered to his lips, your stare too obvious for him to miss. He smirked slightly, the satisfaction of knowing you were entirely charmed by him greater than any remarkable feat he pulled off with his arrows.

He pulled you into an ardent kiss, holding you with a gentle but firm hand on your waist. There was something more natural about his kisses than anything else. His entire purpose was to love— it was intuitive to his nature. Each kiss, each glance, each smile, had you falling ever deeper into the drunken feeling of adoration for him. And the kiss had the same effect. 

He pulled apart only to hold you comfortably in his arms again, hearts racing in sync. You caught your breath, hands finding his, lacing together with his warm fingers. 

He lifted your chin up with his other hand, “One more kiss, hm?” 

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,,

@50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @imyuna-06,, @kristianities,, @stannwjnss

[xmhaoluvr]

INVALIDATED; TWS YOUNGJAE x READER

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Sobbing was all YOUNGJAE could hear upon entering his shared apartment with his girlfriend. With how loud the sobs were, he knew that she didn’t hear him come home

Changing from shoes to a pair of home slippers, he went to set down his things on the couch before going to their shared room. Once he opened the door, the sobbing immediately stopped and he saw the blankets moving subtly; tried to be subtle at least

He changed into his pajamas before tucking himself next to her and immediately spooning her

“I’m home,” he said, kissing her cheeks ever so lightly a few times before hugging her tightly and then letting loose “Have you eaten?” he nodded upon her question “How about you?” “I did, too”

“…”

“…”

“Are you alright?” he asked, voice soft and in a whisper, trying to not hit a button yet it did. Her tears suddenly started coming out without a warning, her sobs earlier turned into bawling as she turned around to bury her face into his chest

Oh how he hates hearing her cry, especially like this. It’s like he can’t do anything to make her feel better

He caressed her back and head, kissing it from time to time while her clutch on Youngjae never loosened

Once her cries calmed down, he asked her, “Are you willing to tell me?” she nodded and told Youngjae about everything

If Youngjae liked your friends before, he surely didn’t now. The way they made you feel so invalidated was so wrong. And they’ve always done this? Oh he was so ready to confront them for you

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he planted a kiss on the top of her head “If only I knew how you felt, I would’ve tried to do something so that your friends will stop doing that. You deserve to feel and know that your feelings are valid and never a kill-joy. How you feel is important. What they did to you should never be excused, it doesn’t matter if they’re a friend or not, the fact that they kept invalidating your feelings should be an enough sign to cut them off,”

He wiped her teary eyes that listened to every words he said

“But they’re the friends I have…” you said sadly and Youngjae shook his head. He held your face with both of his hands, rubbing his thumb on your cheeks ever so lightly

“You have me, and I can introduce you to my friends! They’re the kindest people I’ve ever known– and! Will never make you feel invalidated”

He placed a light kiss on her forehead, it felt like a feather just dropped by

“I love you so much, love”

end! sorry if this is bad lol. i wrote this feeling down bc i felt invalidated so this is vv self indulgent 😅 i might make another youngjae one that is better than this and *venting starts here* i just felt so invalidated earlier that i left the group chat :( i wanted comfort and a shoulder to cry on because it wasn’t the first time it happened and i just didn’t know how to confront them *venting ends* i wanted comfort and a shoulder to cry on and youngjae was the first one who came to mind; very chronically online i know lol but he just looks like the type of person to give the best comfort and hug, i love him so much no one will understand ☹️

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

[hoodiejaebum]

where do y'all read your fics these days?

is it ao3 or like. bc I literally only see people with 25 notes and their fics are decent in the got7 tag so yall have to be going somewhere else or there's rly only this many ahgase here

[luckymilkshakerebel]

Falling Out of Tune

Genre: Angst, sad ending

Cast: youngjae Got7 x female reader

---

The rain outside mirrored the heaviness in your heart as you sat in the small café where everything had started. The memories of late-night conversations and stolen laughter with Youngjae played on repeat in your mind, but today, those memories felt distant—like a song you could no longer sing.

Youngjae was late. Again.

You stared at your untouched coffee, your fingers tightening around the cup. This wasn’t the first time he’d kept you waiting, but tonight, the wait felt different. There was a tension between the two of you, one that had grown over the past few months. His packed schedule, the late-night rehearsals, the unending spotlight—everything that had once seemed manageable now felt insurmountable.

The bell above the door jingled, and you looked up, spotting him. His face was shadowed with exhaustion, his hair slightly damp from the rain. He approached your table with an apologetic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Sorry, I got caught up at the studio,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you.

You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s okay.” But it wasn’t.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the hum of the café filling the space between you. Youngjae glanced at you, his expression softening when he saw the hurt in your eyes. “Y/N, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You looked down at your hands, your throat tightening. “Do you even need to ask, Youngjae?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally met his gaze. “We’ve been drifting apart. You’re always busy, always distracted. I know your career is important, and I’ve tried to be patient, but…” Your voice cracked. “I don’t even feel like I’m part of your life anymore.”

Youngjae’s brows knitted together, guilt flashing across his face. “Y/N, that’s not true. I’ve just been under a lot of pressure lately. You know how demanding this life is.”

“I do,” you said softly, “but I also know that love is about making time for each other, no matter how hard it gets. And lately, it feels like I’m the only one trying.”

His hands curled into fists on the table, his jaw tightening. “Do you think this is easy for me? Balancing everything? I’m trying, Y/N. I really am.”

“Are you?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Because it feels like I’m just an afterthought to you now. Like I’m not even a priority.”

Youngjae flinched, the words hitting him harder than he expected. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted quietly.

“I don’t need words, Youngjae,” you said, your voice cracking. “I need actions. I need to feel like I matter to you.”

The weight of your confession hung in the air, and for a moment, Youngjae looked like he wanted to reach out, to comfort you. But he didn’t. Instead, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “But maybe… maybe I’m not what you need right now.”

The finality of his words sent a sharp pain through your chest. “What are you saying?”

He looked down at the table, his voice barely audible. “Maybe we’ve been trying to hold on to something that isn’t working anymore.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him, searching for any sign that he didn’t mean it. But the sadness in his expression told you everything you needed to know.

“Is this really what you want?” you whispered.

Youngjae hesitated before shaking his head. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s best for both of us. And I don’t think I can give you what you deserve right now.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally fell, and you quickly wiped them away, trying to keep your composure. “I thought we were stronger than this.”

“So did I,” he said, his voice breaking.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there, the love you once shared lingering like the last note of a song. Finally, you stood, your legs shaky as you grabbed your bag.

“I guess this is goodbye, then,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Youngjae stood as well, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You nodded, unable to speak. As you turned to leave, you felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look back. The sound of the rain greeted you as you stepped outside, the cold drops mingling with your tears.

The melody of your love had ended, leaving behind an aching silence. And though your heart was shattered, you knew that someday, you’d find the strength to write a new song—one that didn’t hurt so much to sing.

Hi, because of the GOT7 comeback and youngjae is my favourite member... So here we go

[cheolsfae]

Hiii,Good morning 🫶🏼Could i ask for a tbz sunwoo current love life reading?

Good afternoon! Sure thing!

August 6, 2024

*for laughs!*

Past: 5 of swords, 2 of pentacles

He could have had a fight with someone he was seeing recently. He kind of resents them in someway. He might not be seeing their side of things. He's just too focused on how they made him feel rather than look at what their true intention was. I don't think this person meant anything harmful to him he took it and may have twisted it around until it fit the narrative he wanted. He wasn't looking at the big picture of everything as a whole.

Present: queen of pentacles, strength

Currently, he could be seeing someone knew. It's fresh start with this person. From the very beginning. This person feels more nurturing than the previous partner, at least to him. It's the same type of person, it's just someone knew that he doesn't really know yet and it feels nice. That's all. Same type of person just new look. Does that make sense? He feels like they are better in every way though, which is funny.

Future: 9 of cups, ace of wands

Anyway, he sees this person as a wish come true. Like holy hell, they are mine. This person is my person. He might be a little possessive but that's going to change because this person will not stand for it like the last one. It's refreshing for him. This person might be a challenge for him and he loves that about them.

[shykpop]

Got7 icons

Like or reblog,If you save/use

Credits always welcome

Ask is open

psd: @colour-source

[thealternateuniverse]

T-shirt

Got 7 (python era because they all look magical in their comeback) x reader

Warnings: Mentioned of drugs, alcohol, and cursing | Also, I apologize for dragging your faves here 😭, it's for the plot.

word count: 6824 (kinda long)

You had been hanging around the boys for as long as you could remember, and somewhere along the way, you developed a silly infatuation with Mark.

But everything changed the day you returned the shirts you had borrowed—those same oversized shirts you always woke up in after crashing at their place.

-------

You jolted awake, immediately aware that the room was far too bright—strangely so, given that your room barely got any sunlight. Blinking against the light, you scanned your surroundings and were met with the all-too-familiar gray interior of Mark’s room. Great. You’d blacked out drunk again and somehow ended up here.

Perfect. Just perfect.

At this point, Mark was probably sick of you, always throwing yourself at him when you were wasted.

You searched for your things and sighed in relief when you saw them neatly placed on Mark’s nightstand—especially your phone. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

Last night had been a blast. Jackson had gone all out hosting the weekly frat party, even inviting the alumni. And Bambam? He had one simple job, to make sure you made it back to your dorm. Clearly, he’d failed miserably.

You sighed realizing you are wearing....probably one of Mark's shirt. How you changed, you have no idea.

You tiptoed your way out of Mark’s room, careful not to make a sound as you headed toward the living room. But the moment you stepped in, you froze.

Yugyeom.

Standing there, shirtless, his sweatpants dangerously hanging low on his waist, his tattoos on full display like they had a personal greeting just for you.

“Uhh… how bad was I last night?” you asked, bracing yourself for the inevitable humiliation. Whatever the damage was, you’d make a mental note to suffer over it later.

Yugyeom simply rolled his eyes and took a slow sip from his Pocari Sweat bottle.

Well… damn. That was kind of hot.

“Dunno,” he finally said, voice casual. “Mark hyung and I had to drag you and Bambam here.”

Trust Yugyeom to be his usual sassy self. Judging by how disheveled he looked, he was probably just as hungover as you. Another reminder to curse Jackson later for whatever lethal concoction he had served last night.

“That bad, huh,” you muttered.

Yugyeom scoffed. “Yeah. And your confession to my brother sucked so bad I wanted to dig my own grave because of secondhand embarassment.” He shook his head, as if physically cringing at the memory.

Your stomach dropped. Confession? Oh, no.

Mark already knew about your infatuation with him, of course he did. But what he actually thought or felt about it? That part remained a mystery. He’d always treated you like a little sister, though. Doted on you, looked out for you… and that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Damn it. He definitely saw you as nothing more than a kid sister.

You groaned, rubbing your temples as if that could somehow erase the embarrassment.

“So what? At least he knows I like him,” you said, forcing confidence into your voice. Own it. No regrets.

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. “News flash—you're not his type.”

You wanted to cry.

Your head was pounding from the hangover, Yugyeom was ruthlessly crushing your delusions, and now you had yet another embarrassing confession to add to your growing list of regrets.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“I hate you!” you shouted, frustration bubbling over.

Yugyeom barely spared you a glance, taking another sip of his drink. “Yeah, whatever, brat.”

"Probably why the girls always liked your brother." You snapped, crossing your arms.

"Because you're straight up mean and an ass, Yugie. Even if you were the last man on Earth, I'd rather fuck a cow. "

You spun around with a dramatic stomp, refusing to let violence win today, even though you were dying to kick him.

"I'd rather too if you're the last woman on earth. You're a whack anyway." He shouted, you intentionally slammed the door when you got out of their apartment and started the walk of shame to your dorm.

--------

You sighed for the hundredth time, gripping the paper bag tightly. Your friends had been pestering you all day, asking what was inside and why you weren’t your usual, enthusiastic self yapping about Mark. You had retreated to your room and sulked after Yugyeom rubbed it in your face that you weren’t Mark’s type and called you a brat. Then you had all the shirts you borrowed from him washed, ready to return them to Mark and maybe, just maybe, start moving on from your feelings for him.

"Oppa," you called out to Mark. He was talking to JB but excused himself to turn toward you.

"Y/N... are you okay now? You blacked out last Saturday." he asked, his voice filled with concern. You didn’t answer, only handing him the paper bag. He hesitated for a moment before taking it from you.

"Sorry for the trouble, and I guess I’ve gotten used to borrowing your shirts every weekend." You said scratching the back of your head.

Mark took a peek of the shirts inside the paper bag, confusion still over his face.

"Uhh.. well I don't mind the trouble, as long as you are safe. But these shirts are big enough to be mine. These are Yugie's."

Your jaw dropped.

What the actual fuck!

"WHAT THE FUCK?!! OPPA ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

Your scream caught Mark off guard. Other students turned to look at the two of you, curiosity in their eyes.

How the hell had you ended up wearing Yugyeom’s shirts? It had been his T-shirts all along?

Mark chuckled, clearly finding the situation amusing.

"Well, he usually takes care of us when we’re too drunk. Doesn’t drink much himself, except for last night. Jackson made sure we all had hangovers."

More reason to beat the crap out of Jackson. But that could wait... first, you needed to deal with this minor inconvenience. You had always assumed the shirts you’d changed into whenever you crash at their apartment after parties were Mark’s, but now it turned out they were Yugyeom’s.

Turns out, even the room was Yugyeom’s! You always seemed to wake up in their apartment, but you’d never noticed it was his. Whether it was from a hangover or hunger, you were usually too out of it to pay attention.

"Oppa, I think I’m going to have a headache," you said dramatically, massaging your temples. Concern flashed across Mark’s face, but a smirk crept in when he realized what was really going on.

"You can ask Yugyeom. My job’s just to make sure I drop you guys off, then I’m off to my gi—"

Mark’s eyes widened, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have. You grinned, piecing it all together.

"Oppa, you dating someone, don't you?" Surprisingly, you didn’t feel disappointed that Mark might like someone else. Instead, you felt a strange excitement bubbling up.

Mark tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck by lowering his head and scratching the back of his head.

Too bad it wasn’t Mark who was taking care of you when you were drunk—no, that little shit Yugyeom had to do it instead.

"And I think you like Yugyeom, you're just infatuated with me."

Your smile faltered, then dropped.

Yugyeom? Hell no! He’s straight-up evil. It’s like he exists just to make your life miserable.

You remembered how he’d always tease you back in elementary school, exposing your crushes to everyone. Not a single attractive trait about him.

"You're kidding, right?" You shot Mark a glare. He raised both his hands in surrender.

"A'ight. I'm just teasing you."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. Great! Things turned out differently this time.

--------

"Man, Y/N is out again," Jackson said, shaking his head as he handed Mark another shot of Hennessy.

"Where is she?" Mark asked, scanning the room.

Yugyeom clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair to mask his irritation. Why did they keep inviting her to these parties, knowing damn well she couldn’t handle her liquor especially with the way Jackson and Johnny threw them?

"Yugie, you're not drinking tonight?" Youngjae offered him a glass, but he shook his head.

God, he wanted to get drunk. He’d had a few shots already, but he couldn’t let himself go past his limit.

"I'm good. I have class tomorrow." Lie.

He didn’t have any classes. His hyungs looked at him like he’d just grown a second head.

"Since when do you care about attending class?" JayB gave him a knowing look.

"Yugie, you've been sneaking out of the parties lately. What are you up to?"

Mark snorted, and Yugyeom shot his brother a glare.

"Nothing, hyung. Just not feeling it lately," Yugyeom mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Jackson raised a brow, not convinced. "Right. And it just happens to be every time Y/N is around?"

Yugyeom scoffed, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. Her parents will kill him and Mark if they don't take care of her. "Coincidence."

"Yeah, sure." Mark chuckled, taking another shot. "So, where is she this time? Passed out in the bathroom? Dancing on the table?"

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his chest tightened. He hated how predictable this was. Every damn party, it was the same thing. Y/N drinking way past her limit, getting into trouble, and him like a fool watching from the shadows, pretending he didn’t care.

Johnny, who had just walked up, smirked. "Last I saw, she was out on the balcony with some guy. Looked pretty cozy."

Yugyeom's grip on his glass tightened. "Who?"

Johnny shrugged. "Some dude from the basketball team. Seemed harmless, but you know Y/N—"

Before he could finish, Yugyeom was already pushing past him, making his way toward the balcony. He wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he got there.

All he knew was that he had to get her out of here.

"Your brother is whipped." He managed to hear JayB before swimming in to the crowd

Yugyeom had been roaming around the house, searching for you, but to no avail. Every room, every hallway, even the bathrooms—nothing. It was as if you'd vanished.

Meanwhile, Y/N had already made your way back to where everyone was gathered.

"Have you seen Y/N yet?" Mark asked, noticing the sulk on Yugyeom's face.

Before anyone could answer, a familiar laugh rang through the air.

"There she is!"

All heads turned just in time to see you stumbling toward them, practically draped over Bambam like a human koala. Arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you clung to him as if he were your lifeline, making it nearly impossible for him to walk straight. The two of you wobbled forward, an amusing sight of chaos.

Jinyoung's brows furrowed as he took in the scene. "What the hell—where the hell have you been?" His voice carried a mix of concern and exasperation.

Bambam groaned, struggling to pry your arms off. "Hyung! Y/N is a handful," he whined before gesturing helplessly. "The gummies must have kicked in!"

"Where did you even get gummies?" Yugyeom asked, irritation lacing his tone.

"Jungkook," Bambam answered shortly before leaning back against the couch.

At that moment, her bloodshot eyes lit up as she spotted Mark. "Oh, Mark Oppa!" she slurred, stumbling toward him. Mark was quick to catch her before she could fall.

He steadied her and turned to everyone. "Let her ride out her high first, she's both drunk and high. How many did she take?" His eyes scanned her for any signs of injury.

Bambam shrugged. "I don’t know. She was already at it when I found her."

Mark sighed and carefully sat her down beside Yugyeom. Luckily, she was too high to cause any trouble just sitting there, completely spaced out.

Yugyeom's night wasn’t going as planned. Jackson was on a mission to make sure everyone was too drunk to go home or to attend class the next day. JayB sat quietly, zoning out. Jinyoung had already passed out. Youngjae had snuck off to leave before he got too drunk. Jackson was everywhere, shoving drinks down everyone’s throats. He came back dragging a drunk Minghao and Jaehyun behind him. Mark just watched in silence, but Yugyeom noticed he was barely holding it together.

Yugyeom could feel his eyelids getting heavy, his exhaustion and alcohol setting in. Meanwhile, Y/N, freshly off her high, challenged Jackson, claiming she could still handle more shots. But she kept knocking things over, clearly out of it. Yugyeom had to sit her down, restraining her from grabbing more drinks. In the end, he took her shots instead.

"Hyung, we need to get out of here." Yugyeom nudged Mark while holding a passed-out Y/N in his arms.

Mark nodded, draping Bambam’s arms around his neck so they could sneak out quietly. They didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Jackson. ---

"Yugie, it's already past Y/N’s curfew. She’s out cold there’s no way she can sneak back to her dorm," Mark said, glancing at the passed-out Y/N on Yugyeom’s lap.

Yugyeom’s head was pounding, the alcohol hitting him harder now. They had just dropped Bambam off.

"You can let her sleep in your room. You sleep in mine. Do anything stupid, you're dead," Mark warned, shooting him a sharp glare through the rearview mirror. It's always the same warning when Y/N had to crash in their flat during the weekend. Her parents will kill both of them if something happens to her. "Why, where are you going?" Yugyeom asked with curiosity, a grin spreading across his lips.

His brother shot him another glare, so Yugyeom quickly shut up. "You should be worried about me, Hyung," he muttered. Knowing Y/N, taking care of her when she’s drunk is like looking after a toddler, such a handful. Good thing she is out tonight.

Yugyeom shook his head, remembering he had to carry her all the way here. Damn, he was tipsy, and he prayed he’d make it to his room without falling over.

He groaned as he finally laid you down on his bed, collapsing onto the floor beside it. He was too dizzy to move. "Fuck." Y/N cursed

Yugyeom got up to check on you, surprised to find you awake. His eyes widened as he realized you were stripping your clothes off.

"Shit... what the hell are you doing?"

He immediately sprang up from the floor to stop you, but you were too stubborn.

Yugyeom cursed silently, his frustration growing. She'll never fucking touch another alcohol Just why am I the one who had to deal with this? Fucking gummies Fuck Jackson, Fuck Jungkook

Out of all the times, Nayeon Noona had to not be available now. She was the one who usually took care of this stuff. His duty was to drag or carry Y/N home, not deal with... well, this.

"Huh? Who TF—oh, Yugie," Y/N said, flashing him a sheepish smile.

"Y/N..." Yugyeom groaned in frustration. He walked over to the bed, gently trying to lay her back down. He wanted to sleep too, he’d had enough drinks to know a hangover was coming tomorrow.

But Y/N had other plans.

"It’s hot in here, Yugie. Where’s Mark Oppa? He’ll change my clothes." Y/N started scanning the room for Mark. When she didn’t see him, she pouted.

Yugyeom felt his ears burn. Since when did Mark change her clothes? It had always been Nayeon!

"Okay, I’ll get you a shirt, and you can change yourself, brat. No Mark tonight," he said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

He walked over to his cabinet to grab a shirt. Luckily, he wasn’t running out of shirts just yet, most of them were still with Y/N, and she hadn’t bothered to return any of them.

Yugyeom turned around, holding out the shirt for her—only to freeze in place, cursing under his breath. "What the—?"

She was already naked, save for her underwear. His eyes widened in shock as Mark’s earlier warning echoed in his head.

"Goddamn it." Yugyeom groaned, quickly looking away as he walked toward her.

Yugyeom tossed the shirt, and it landed right on Y/N’s face. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, exhaling a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Leaning back against his door, he muttered under his breath—

"Just what the fuck."

He and Mark had known Y/N since childhood. Back then, she was shy and timid, always clinging to them for protection. If they weren’t around, she’d inevitably get picked on by bullies.

But middle school changed everything. The once quiet and reserved Y/N was long gone. After being spoiled by Jackson, JB, and Jinyoung, she had turned into a complete brat—throwing fits whenever she didn’t get her way.

And her growing infatuation with Mark? It irritated the hell out of Yugyeom. Mark was too nice to reject her outright, always treating her like a younger sister. But Y/N? She saw things differently.

Yugyeom woke up with a pounding headache, the effects of last night’s drinking hitting him full force. He was still wearing the same shirt from the night before, his hair sticking out in every direction. Too exhausted to change, he had simply collapsed onto his brother’s bed.

Yugyeom froze. She was awake.

Slowly, he turned around to face her. Thankfully, she was wearing a shirt—his shirt. It was oversized on her, hanging loosely off her frame. He gulped. Damn, when did she start looking hot in my clothes? She always wore his shirts, so why did it feel different now?

"Dunno..." he answered casually, shaking off the thought. "Mark hyung and I had to drag you and Bambam here."

Y/N’s face twisted in disgust. "That bad, huh?"

Yugyeom scoffed. "Yeah. And your confession to my brother sucked so bad, I wanted to dig my own grave from secondhand embarrassment." He shook his head, physically cringing at the memory. Having to endure her slurred, love-struck confessions on the way to Mark’s car was pure torture.

Y/N, however, seemed unfazed. "So what? At least he knows I like him," she said with confidence.

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. "News flash—you're not his type."

Y/N’s face turned red, and she shot him a glare. He knew he had struck a nerve. It was always the same—the fuming expression whenever things didn’t go her way.

"I hate you!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over.

Yugyeom wanted to tease her more, but he knew better than to entertain her tantrums. Instead, he barely spared her a glance, taking another sip of his drink. "Yeah, whatever, brat."

Y/N huffed and crossed her arms. "Probably why girls always liked your brother." She gave him a smug look before adding, "Because you're straight-up mean and an ass, Yugy. Even if you were the last man on Earth, I'd rather fuck a cow."

Yugyeom’s jaw clenched. He didn’t give a damn if girls preferred his brother over him. It wasn’t like he was interested in them anyway.

Y/N spun around with a dramatic stomp, storming out of the room. Yugyeom sighed, rubbing his temple. Between his pounding headache and Y/N’s tantrums, this morning was already a disaster.

"I'd rather too if you were the last woman on Earth. You’re wack anyway," he called after her, but the only response he got was the sound of the door slamming shut.

"Women!" he muttered in frustration, running a hand through his messy hair.

Not long after, the door creaked open again, but this time, it was Mark. His older brother looked just as disheveled, still wearing the same clothes from last night, holding paper bags in his hands.

Yugyeom blinked. "What the hell happened to you?" --------------------

Y/N’s laugh rang across the cafeteria, drawing attention to her and Mark. Whatever they were talking about must have been hilarious, judging by the way she leaned into him, grinning from ear to ear.

Jinyoung and Youngjae exchanged a glance.

"Y/N seems extra clingy today," Jackson commented, shaking his head before taking another sip of his smoothie.

Yugyeom furrowed his brows, watching the two of them curiously. Mark and Y/N had been inseparable since this morning, and for some reason, it was bothering him more than it should.

"Anyway, Jooheon’s throwing a party tonight for his birthday. Are you guys coming?"

God. Yugyeom had just recovered from the worst hangover last week, and now there was another party.

"I’m in if you guys are going," Youngjae said.

Jinyoung sighed. "I’ll go, but I’m not staying long. I don’t want another hangover. Last week was the worst—fuck you, Jackson." He shot the older boy a glare, but Jackson only laughed in response.

"I’m coming! Jooheon invited me earlier," a familiar voice chimed in.

They all turned to see Y/N, now settling into the seat beside, unfortunately—Yugyeom.

"Yeah, and we'll have to drag your ass back home when you're drunk," Yugyeom said dryly, rolling his eyes at Y/N.

But she didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, she turned to Mark and Jay B with a sweet smile.

"Oppa, you're going to drive me home, right?"

Yugyeom sat up straighter. Did she just ignore me?

Mark sighed. "Just don’t go over your limit, Y/N. Please?"

"Of course!" Y/N beamed.

Yugyeom scoffed under his breath. "Just what the hell."

"Yeah, so you don’t inconvenience us into driving you home," he snapped.

Y/N shot him a glare. "What’s up with you?"

"Nothing!" Yugyeom barked back, quickly gathering his things and walking out of the cafeteria.

For some reason, he was pissed today. Since when did Y/N start following his brother around like a lost puppy? He understood the obsession, but did she really think sticking to Mark all day would get her anywhere? ---------

"Slow down, Yugie. It’s not even midnight yet." Jungkook took the bottle from Yugyeom, eyeing him warily. His friend had been drinking like a madman all night.

Yugyeom didn’t understand what was wrong with him either. He’d been cranky all day.

"I’m good," he muttered, trying to sound convincing. But Jungkook clearly wasn’t buying it.

His gaze swept across the room until it landed on Y/N, who was laughing—no, flirting—with Wonwoo. His grip on the shot glass tightened.

Mingyu and Jungkook followed his line of sight before exchanging a knowing look.

"Tsk." Yugyeom clicked his tongue and downed another shot, drinking like it was his last night on earth, completely disregarding the inevitable hangover.

"You’re drinking like you’re heartbroken, Yugie," Bambam teased, completely oblivious to the daggers Yugyeom was mentally throwing at Wonwoo and Y/N.

"And I think I just figured out who broke your little heart." Mingyu grinned, glancing between Y/N and Yugyeom.

---------

You promised Mark and JB that you wouldn’t drink too much tonight. So, you made it your mission to interact and avoid alcohol as much as possible.

You arrived a little late but made sure to greet Jooheon and hand him your gift when you walked in.

"Y/N, my girl!" Jooheon embraced you warmly.

"Happy birthday, Heony," you said, returning the hug.

"Enjoy the night, girl. You look beautiful," Jooheon winked, making you blush at the compliment.

"Thanks! And happy birthday again."

Jooheon placed both hands on your shoulders and led you towards where the boys were hanging out.

"You might want to keep up. Yugyeom’s been drinking like there’s no tomorrow, and it’s not even midnight yet."

But you had sworn to keep your drinking in check tonight.

"Perfect. Thanks, Heon." You gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Instead of diving into more alcohol, you grabbed a margarita. The plan was to avoid overindulging and stay busy by chatting with everyone. You decided to make a detour and joined Wonwoo, Hoshi, and Minghao.

"Mind if I join?" you announced, flashing a smile.

"Y/N, thank god. These two are boring me," Hoshi grinned, clearly relieved to have some fresh company. "What's up?" You asked, sitting down beside Wonwoo.

“Not much lately. Same old boring school stuff,” Minghao said, pulling out his phone to check something.

“Boo hoo. School is boring,” you teased, casually sipping your margarita.

Wonwoo glanced around, his gaze landing where JayB, Jackson, Jinyoung, and Mark usually were. “You’re at most of these parties. Surprised the boys aren’t hovering?”

You followed his gaze but didn’t spot them. They were either scattered or just keeping a low profile, not that they ever hovered, but they always made sure they could see you.

You chuckled. “Nah, I can go anywhere because of them.”

"And Yugyeom looks at me like he’s going to kill me later."

Your smile faltered. You’d been trying to push Yugyeom out of your mind these past few days. The shirts you took from him were still in your possession, Mark refused to take them when you tried returning them, they weren’t his so he basically told you to return it yourself to Yugyeom.

You and Yugyeom fought like cats and dogs daily, as if his sole purpose in life was to annoy you and ruin your day. Yet, somehow, he still looked after you. It didn’t make sense. He always seemed the least concerned, never missing a chance to call out every stupid thing you did yet there he was, always watching over you.

"What did I do?" Wonwoo asked, sounding offended.

What the hell? Likes you? More like he’s dying to kill you. First Mark, now Minghao. The idea was absurd. You couldn’t help but cackle.

"You guys are overanalyzing. What he feels toward me is pure hatred, mutual, by the way," you said, shaking your head.

"Wanna bet, Noona?"

Everyone turned at the sound of the new voice. Mingi.

Since when did he get here?

"Mingi, sneaking out again, huh?"

Mingi scratched the back of his head as he plopped down beside you. Being a freshman and the rowdiest one at that, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

"Don't tell anyone," he said with a grin. "Jooheon hyung invited me. His party’s way too lit to miss."

Mingi is the definition of chaotic energy wrapped in a freshman package. Along with his partners-in-crime, San and Beomgyu, he’s always at the center of the mess, loud, unpredictable, and effortlessly funny. Despite his wild antics, there’s an endearing charm to him, making it impossible to stay mad at him for too long.

To you, he’s like an annoying but lovable little brother, constantly trailing behind with his silly little crush. He doesn’t take it too seriously, but that doesn’t stop him from sticking around whenever he gets the chance. Whether it’s teasing, playfully pestering, or just showing up uninvited, Mingi has made it his personal mission to be wherever you are much to their amusement (and occasional frustration).

You glanced over at Yugyeom. He wasn’t looking in your direction anymore, but you caught the moment Jungkook took the bottle from his hand. Was he drunk already? Yugyeom rarely got drunk, his alcohol tolerance was impressively high.

"So, Noona? What do you think? Looks like Yugyeom hyung really likes you," Mingi said, leaning forward with his best attempt at puppy eyes.

You looked around at the others, all watching you expectantly. The attention made your cheeks warm, and you couldn’t help but blush.

"N-no, obviously we’d kill each other before that ever happened," you stammered, trying to hide your embarrassment.

But what Mingi did next caught you completely off guard.

“Oi! Mingi, you little shit! Why'd you kiss her?!”

Your eyes widened as you turned to see Minghao smacking Mingi, who seemed utterly unbothered. If anything, Mingi looked thrilled grinning ear to ear and bouncing in his seat like he’d just won the lottery. It was just a peck on your cheek but still, it caught you off guard. Your head immediately turned towards where Yugyeom is, but he's already gone. "You're so dead meat, Mingi." ----------

Your goal to stay sober? Success.

You’d had a few drinks here and there, but still being clear-headed at 2 AM was a win. Most of the night had been spent mingling, caught up in conversations rather than alcohol.

Still, you couldn’t shake the habit of glancing around, searching for any sign of Yugyeom. You hadn’t seen him since you were with Wonwoo and the others earlier, and for some reason, that nagging thought lingered.

“Good job!” you muttered to yourself, patting your own back while smiling like an idiot in front of the mirror. You headed to the restroom to touch up a bit.

"I’d tap Yugyeom. I wanna ride on his lap."

"Yeah, like, he's tall and everything."

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but these girls were loud enough to make it impossible not to hear.

Ride him, huh?

You pulled out your phone to message the group chat, hoping to get an update on Yugyeom, but the responses were slow—probably because the guys were all already too drunk. But why were you searching for Yugyeom? You weren’t sure, you just knew that you had to talk to him.

“He's pretty out of it. Some girl tried to make out with him earlier, but he accidentally knocked her over.”

For some reason, the thought made your blood boil. "Good luck riding him, then."

The girls turned towards you with a look of surprises on their face. But you only rolled her eyes and walked out of the restroom.

Now you really had to look for Yugyeom. ---------

It didn’t take long to find him mainly because they’d become the damn show in Jooheon’s pool. The chaos had taken over, and now Jooheon’s pool was flooded with drunk and half-naked students.

Yugyeom, Jungkook, Mingyu, and Jaehyun stood there, drenched. The only thing they were still wearing? Their pants. Obviously they're drunk.

“Kyum.” You called, sighing. The nickname felt strange on your tongue after not using it for so long.

Yugyeom turned towards you, his eyes half-lidded and his cheeks flushed, clearly feeling the effects of too much alcohol.

“What?” he asked lazily, draping his shirt over his shoulders as he shifted his weight.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the fact that his half-naked form and his hair that's sticking everywhere was distracting you more than it should.

“Not having a good time? You don’t seem drunk,” he remarked, voice casual maybe a little too casual.

"I swore to Mark not to get wasted tonight."

He walked towards you, and what he did next completely caught you off guard. Yugyeom leaned forward, his face burying itself against your neck. Water still dripped from his hair, cascading down to your shoulders.

"Mark... blah blah blah. For once, can you stop talking about him?"

You weren’t sure how to react. What happened to him? Why was he suddenly acting like this?

"And don't even mention Mingi. I made sure to drown him earlier," he added, his breath warm against your neck.

"What? Are you even serious right now?"

Yugyeom let out a dry laugh. "Yeah? How dare he kiss you."

What the hell? So he did see that earlier?

"We seriously need to talk. Get a shirt or something, it’s cold," you said firmly, but Yugyeom didn’t budge.

"I’ll try… I’m too drunk, I guess?" He blinked, looking around, squinting as if trying to see past his dizziness.

"Okay, at least let’s get you inside and find you a shirt." You grabbed his arm, ready to guide him in. But the moment he took a step, Yugyeom stumbled.

"Oops. My bad." He giggled unapologetically.

"Y/N! And why are you still dry and sober?"

You barely had time to react before Mingyu clearly just as drunk grinned at you. Bambam and Jungkook trailed behind him, all of them looking suspiciously like they were up to no good.

You narrowed your eyes. "I’ll kidnap your friend for a while. You can have him back after we talk."

The three exchanged knowing looks. Definitely plotting something.

"Not gonna happen," Jungkook said, shaking his head before turning to Mingyu.

Sensing potential danger from these idiots, you instinctively stepped back. "I swear to God, I’m wearing heels, Jeon Jungkook. If you take another step, I will kill you with them."

But they didn’t look the least bit fazed.

"No killjoys tonight, Y/N."

Before you could protest, an arm wrapped around your waist. You barely had time to scream before gravity betrayed you—

SPLASH!

You hit the water. "What the fuck!!!! Just what the fuck!!!"

You screamed the moment you emerged from the water, sputtering as laughter erupted from the sidelines.

Jungkook, Bambam, and Mingyu were doubled over, finding the whole scene way too entertaining.

Before you could process your next move, an arm wrapped around your waist again. Instinctively, you swung, nearly throwing a punch—only to realize it was Yugyeom.

You immediately clung to him, your heart racing. Great. You had landed in the deeper part of the pool, where your feet couldn’t even touch the bottom.

"Just what the hell, Kyum?!" you snapped, exasperated.

He didn’t even look the least bit guilty.

"Oops?" he said, grinning.

"You dragged me in with you! I don’t have spare clothes, and I’m still wearing my heels!"

Yugyeom just chuckled, holding you effortlessly in the water. "Should’ve taken them off sooner, brat."

You were this close to dunking him under.

You didn’t realize how close you were until your breath hitched.

Yugyeom’s arm was still around your waist, holding you steady in the water. His bare skin was warm against your soaked clothes, the alcohol in his system making his grip a little looser, a little more relaxed.

Your mesh top clung to you like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. The way Yugyeom’s gaze flickered downward before snapping back to your eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

Half-lidded from the alcohol, his dark eyes held something unreadable, something that made your stomach flip.

For once, he wasn’t teasing you. He wasn’t rolling his eyes or throwing snarky remarks.

He was just looking.

Your throat felt dry despite being surrounded by water.

"It's cold, we should get up," you said, quickly averting your gaze.

But Yugyeom’s grip on you tightened.

"I thought we were gonna talk. What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

Your mind went blank.

What was it? Just moments ago, you had been so sure, so determined to get him alone and say something. But now, with the weight of his stare and the warmth of his body against yours, your words were stuck somewhere in your throat.

Yugyeom studied you closely, his voice quieter this time.

"And you haven’t called me Kyum in a long time…" He tilted his head slightly, eyes searching yours. "What is it now?"

You swallowed.

You could tell him. Right now.

Or you could do what you’ve always done, brush it off, pretend nothing’s changed.

Your fingers twitched against his shoulder. "It’s nothing," you mumbled.

Yugyeom let out a small scoff, but he didn’t let go. "Liar."

"Oi! The two of you, lovey-dovey there, huh? Done with your lover's quarrel?"

Jungkook’s voice rang out, followed by loud laughter from Mingyu and Bambam. You felt your face heat up not from the alcohol or the water, but from the way Yugyeom still hadn’t let go.

He didn’t even react to Jungkook’s teasing.

You expected him to roll his eyes, make some sarcastic remark, or at the very least push you away in annoyance like he always did. But he didn’t.

Instead, he stayed still, watching you.

For some reason, it wasn’t cold anymore.

"We should get out," you tried again, but your voice came out weaker this time.

Yugyeom hummed, tilting his head slightly. "Then go."

You frowned. "You're the one holding me."

A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Am I?"

Your stomach flipped.

What the hell was up with him tonight?

"You're drunk. It's cold." You tried to reason, shivering slightly as the cool night air hit your wet skin.

Yugyeom only tightened his grip, his gaze unwavering. "Not until you tell me what you wanted to talk about."

You huffed, pressing your palms against his chest, trying to push him away, not too hard, though. "Kyum, not now."

His eyes flickered at the nickname again, his jaw clenching. "Then when?"

You fell silent, biting your lip.

Jungkook’s voice interrupted the tension. "Alright, alright, lovebirds. Enough of the eye-fucking. Get out before you both catch a cold."

Your breath hitched again.

"You tell me now, or I'm gonna fucking kiss you and cause a damn scene," Yugyeom said, his voice low and unwavering.

You turned sharply to look at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. His dark, half-lidded eyes held yours, challenging, no, daring you to say something. The water dripped from his hair, down his sharp jawline, and onto his bare shoulders.

"You're drunk," you repeated, but it came out weaker this time.

"And you're avoiding," he shot back.

This wasn’t the Yugyeom who always rolled his eyes at you, who constantly teased you like you were nothing but an annoying little sister. No, this Yugyeom was looking at you like he actually gave a damn.

You swallowed hard. "Kyum… stop it."

His lips twitched at the nickname, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he took a slow step toward you, water cascading off his body.

"Last chance," he warned, tilting his head slightly. "Tell me, or I’ll make sure everyone here knows exactly what’s been going on between us."

Your stomach flipped. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Yugyeom smirked, and for the first time tonight, it wasn’t one of amusement—it was something else. Something dangerous.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Yugyeom let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his wet hair. He looked at you, his jaw clenching like he was trying to hold something back.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" he muttered, shaking his head.

Your frustration boiled over. "No, I fucking don’t! One second, you act like I’m the most annoying person on earth, and the next, you're pissed when I talk to someone else! You say you don’t care, but you always have something to say about what I do, who I’m with—"

"Because it drives me fucking insane, Y/N!" Yugyeom snapped, holing you closer. "Watching you throw yourself at my brother like he’s ever gonna see you the way you want him to. Watching you act like a spoiled brat because you know they’ll always give you what you want. Watching you flirt with guys who don’t deserve your attention."

You blinked, your breath caught in your throat. "What...?"

His chest rose and fell heavily, his fists clenched at his sides. Then, as if all the tension left him at once, he exhaled and chuckled bitterly.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating. The sounds of the party in the background felt miles away.

"Do you hate me, Yugyeom?" Your voice was quieter now, almost unsure.

His eyes snapped back to yours, something unreadable flickering in them. Then he took one last step forward, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of him despite the cold water.

"If I hated you," he murmured, voice dangerously low, "I wouldn't be losing my mind over you every damn day."

"So, the shirts..." You trailed off, everything finally clicking into place and believing Mark. The t-shirt, the room you’d assumed was Mark’s...

"Yes! Fuck me!" Yugyeom cut in, his voice filled with frustration. "It’s my room you were sleeping in when you were drunk, and it’s my fucking shirt you’re wearing. You look so damn hot in it, but it drives me crazy every time you think about it being Ma—"

He didn’t finish his sentence. You cut him off with a kiss, sealing his lips against yours. The sound of cursing from the boys and the cheers of those around you filled the air.

Yugyeom froze for a second before his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you in like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. The cheers and whistles from your friends faded into the background, drowned out by the rapid beating of your heart.

When you finally pulled away, slightly breathless, Yugyeom’s dazed expression made you chuckle. His hands still held you tightly, as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

"You—" he started, his voice hoarse, but you cut him off with a smirk.

"Thought you were gonna kiss me and cause a scene?" You teased, raising a brow.

He blinked, then let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are a brat."

"You like it," you shot back playfully.

Yugyeom rolled his eyes, but the way his fingers traced circles on your waist told you everything you needed to know. Maybe he didn't hate you after all. Maybe it was something else entirely.

"Oi! Disgusting! Get out of the water!"

"Yugyeom! What the hell are you two doing in there?!"

"Were they kissing?—Hey, Yugyeom! I swear to God, if you get out of that water..."

"Nice one, Y/N noona! Don’t drown me again, Yugyeom hyung!"

You can hear Mingyu, JayB, Jackson, and even Mingi shouting from the sidelines, but Yugyeom doesn’t care. He simply grabs the back of your neck and kisses you again.

" This Motherfucker" - Mark

Yugyeom didn’t even bother looking back at the chaotic mess of friends yelling from the sidelines. He just smirked against your lips, his grip firm as he pulled you even closer. The warmth of his body against the cold water sent shivers down your spine, though you weren’t sure if it was from the temperature or the way he kissed you like he had something to prove.

"You’re unbelievable," you muttered when you finally pulled away, your fingers curling into the wet strands of his hair.

"Yeah?" He tilted his head, his thumb grazing your jawline. "And yet, you kissed me first."

You rolled your eyes, pushing against his chest. "Shut up, let's just get out of here before they actually drown us."

"Agreed," Yugyeom chuckled, finally letting you go, but not before throwing a glare toward the group of idiots watching like it was some drama premiere.

As you both waded out of the pool, soaking wet and dripping onto the pavement, the jeering only got worse.

"Yugyeom! I trusted you!" Mingyu feigned betrayal, clutching his chest.

"Yugyeom, you little shit, I knew it!" Jackson cackled.

"Just get a damn room!" JayB groaned, tossing a towel in your direction.

Yugyeom caught it effortlessly and draped it over your shoulders, his lips still curved into a smug grin. He leaned in, whispering against your ear, "I meant what I said. Let’s go somewhere else."

Your breath hitched, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you. Instead, you scoffed, giving him a playful shove.

"Get me food first, and maybe I’ll think about it."

Yugyeom laughed, shaking his head. "Brat."

And just like that, whatever tension had been lingering between you both had snapped into something else entirely.

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

⟡ ݁₊ . got7 ⟡ ݁₊ .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ot7 imagines

♡ got7 as supermarket cashiers ♡

♡ got7 as my aura loss moments ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Flight Log: Arrival (Review)

➳ back to main masterlist

[woojiniepk]

Flower [31/08]

— capa disponível para doação.

[thurst-day]

Hello all! How've you been?

I'm just here to drop a short fic that I wrote in 2020? And when I read it again I felt so overwhelmed because I miss GOT7 so so muchhh it hurts.

It was written from Jinyoung's POV and feelings and his struggle I guess.

I hope this fic could help a little to ease the pain of missing our boys.

The Day // from Jinyoung's POV ♡

[kpopyourcherryy]

“Soft, needy pants escaped your plush lips as you laid there with your face pressed into the dampened black velvet while Jackson’s sinful tongue lapped up the remnants of the mess him and his Hyung had made inside you.”

RUH ROH CHAT

Looks like Accuracy part 4 will be out soon 🫡🫶🏻

[slytherinshua]

　　　tws masterlist ⟡₊ ⊹

⋆˙⟡ = author's pick !

　　　　shinyu

just us two (req)

genre: academic rivals to lovers. mutual pining. fluff. lil angst. | wc: 2.4k.

misunderstood kiss (req)

genre: fluff. | wc: 1k.

soft thoughts !

one

　　　　dohoon

your racing thoughts

genre: hurt/comfort. | wc: 556.

handle with care (req)

genre: fluff. | wc: 603.

　　　　youngjae

eros & psyche (req) ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. greek mythology au. | wc: 593.

　　　　hanjin

memento (req)

genre: fluff. highschool au. | wc: 547.

　　　　jihoon

hit reset (req)

genre: fluff. comfort. | wc: 896.

just like you (req) ⋆˙⟡

genre: fluff. | wc: 452.

　　　　kyungmin

nothing yet . . .

　　　　other

beach dates with tws ! (req) ⋆˙⟡

starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 614.

pet names/nicknames they call you (req) ⋆˙⟡

starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 548.

it's a prank ! (req)

↳ how tws react to you pranking them. starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 640.

tws as boyfriends (req) ⋆˙⟡

starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 2.2k.

can't shake this jealousy (req) ⋆˙⟡

↳ how your boyfriend reacts when another guy flirts with you. starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 1k.

tws as love tropes (req)

starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 2k.

sweet night (req) ⋆˙⟡

↳ how your boyfriend reacts when you can't sleep. starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 612.

how tws hug (req)

starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 234.

you, clouds, rain (req) ⋆˙⟡

↳ tws coming home after a tiring day. starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. comfort. headcanons. | wc: 714.

handholding with tws (req)

starring: ot6 tws. | genre: fluff. headcanons. | wc: 200.

[sinnobuns]

Okay so I have a shitload of requests for Day6 and Guki was the Day6 admin so those requests are gonna be deleted due to me not having even the slightest feeling for who they are as people. If it were under any other circumstance I would be happy to recruit a Day6 admin but this is ultimately my decision and my blog so we are gonna start over with that specific area. As of right now, requests are closed but I'm gonna look over what we had in the drafts and see what I can get back into and push out for you guys in order to stay relevant.

I am partial to got7 as they are my BG but I would be willing to try my hand at say, Monsta X or EXO. BTS is not totally out of the question but I AM super rusty at solo writing. I am a thousand percent sure it's gotten a lot better over the years but I think it's gonna be a process getting back into it for sure. I would also be willing to explore SVT in the future but as of now, as mentioned above, I am keeping requests closed for the time being. I would imagine I could get a few things done before the new year and start to open reqs again.

In the meantime, I want y'all to know how grateful I am to be able to come back to this blog and do what I can to make up for that massive absence I had, and if anyone wants to request got7 stuff on my main blog you can do so here.

All my love,

-- Admin Def