#but on the last week of class i’m committed to doing it bc i never have to go back lol

[thehotpilot]

meeting people in real life is SO HARD like people who have the confidence to talk to and/or openly flirt with strangers astound me

[puck-luck]

among the sheets | jack hughes

SEQUEL TO BETWEEN THE TILES

warnings: unprotected p in v, jealous and possessive jack, dirty talk, creampie, lots of kissing (lfg), trickery, light breeding kink (shh), mentions of masturbation (m & f), fingering, light biting, praise, ignoring the apparent repercussions of taking Plan B (cappy says that it’s bad for your body and to be real? i’ve never taken Plan B so idfk and idfc about the repercussions) pairing: frat!president jack hughes x reader summary: “Frat! Jack getting jealous watching reader get paired with another guy in their shared class together for an assignment 🤭”, “ok but reader talking to another guy in jacks frat bc she’s like whatever ur gonna act like nothing happened so will i and he gets PISSED and finally breaks telling her that he can’t stop thinking about her” wc: 6916

Three weeks. Six classes. Two Mondays, two Wednesdays, and two Fridays. One entire Thanksgiving break. That’s how long it’s been since you and Jack hooked up at his party in the beginning of November. 

December comes with a new goal for you: that you’re not going to let Jack Hughes get into your head. After all, he’s just a frat guy. It’s typical for frat boys to get what they want– laid– and then ghost their hookup. You’ve seen it happen to your roommates and close friends in years past, who always seem to fall for the frat guy that can’t commit. He’ll string them along for a fuck, convincing them that he likes them, just so that they’ll come back for more. 

Your girlfriends never stay the night, never receive aftercare, and sometimes don’t even get to come. Yet– the boy is always allowed to stay the night at her place. And he always pulls her back in, even when he’s fucking other girls and lying about it. Your mind automatically goes to Jack’s frat brother, Cole, who was the puppeteer of a miserable situationship with your close friend a few years back.

You’ve learned, just through talking with Jack during class, that he and Cole are still close friends. Cole’s his VP of Brotherhood. You don’t share the fact that you know the girl who cried over Cole every week for the better part of sophomore year. 

No, that information you keep to yourself. Although, to you, Jack’s friendship with Cole is proof that Jack is doing the same thing to you. If he asked, you probably would fuck him again. After all, he’s been nothing but kind to you since that party. But, at the same time, he’s been kind– not flirty. 

The distinction between the two is clear. Heading into finals, you’re going to keep your head down and do your work. You’ll study, you’ll prep for the second-to-last set of finals you’ll ever take, and you will not allow Jack to distract you. He’s just some guy.

You’re a little nervous heading into your first class back from break. Today, your teacher is announcing the pairs for your final project. In this class, there’s an optional written exam. Instead, there’s the required project, where you have to research and present about one of the topics that was covered this semester. With your luck, you’re expecting that your teacher will pair you and Jack together. That way, you won’t be able to avoid him. It’ll be a nightmare.

Like always, you arrive to class before Jack does. Like always, you take out your computer and your textbook, rereading your most recent notes to make sure you’re up to speed on what you’ll talk about in class today. Like always, Jack drops into the seat next to you just before the bell rings, and like always, he peers over your shoulder to look at your computer screen, snooping.

“I see you haven’t changed over break,” Jack says, sounding disappointed. “I was hoping that we’d come back and I’d get to watch you shop for a dress for formal instead of having to look at your notes all the time.”

“I’m not going to any formal,” you reply. “I’m not in a sorority.”

Jack clicks his tongue like he’s just remembering, about to retort when your professor starts class. You shush Jack, then turn your attention to your prof. 

She tells the class that today you’ll be meeting with your assigned partner and choosing a topic for your presentation. Everyone will have to move around in the classroom to do so, which is a relief– unless Jack ends up being your partner, he’ll have to leave your side. You won’t be burdened with the weight of having a man who’s seen your face when you come right beside you.

She begins to read from the list on her computer and you get lucky– Jack isn’t your partner. Instead, you get Braden Schneider, who sits across from you in the classroom, close to the back. He tucks himself into a corner every class and you’ve seen him at office hours once or twice. When you’re partnered up, he gives you a little wave and a smile.

Jack is stuck with another boy from the class, a boy named John (you think) with whom he seems to get along. 

Once the class splits into pairs, Jack raises his hand to bid you goodbye and goes to join John across the way. Braden comes and takes his seat. You don’t know Braden well, but he’s passionate about doing a presentation about the topic that you know best, so you click almost immediately. You leave class feeling confident that you will get a good grade on this final, so good that it might bump you up from a B+ to an A-... or even an A, if you can speak as well in front of the class as you can research.

You and Braden leave class together, trying to decide when it’s best to meet up outside of class and start working on your presentation. As you walk down the hall, Braden tells you that he can’t meet up on Friday because he’s going to his girlfriend’s formal– you can’t seem to escape the topic of greek life. You decide to grab coffee on Sunday morning. Outside the building, Braden leaves you with another wave and a confirmation of “It’s a date!”

Then, Jack finds you.

“How was Schneider?” He asks, eying your classmate’s retreating figure. 

“He’s good. We’re getting coffee on Sunday. I think our project will go well. How’s… John?” You reply, fixing the backpack straps on your shoulders before setting off towards the parking lot where you parked today. This class with Jack is the last of the day, so you’re ready to head home. He walks back the same way, since the parking lot is about a block closer to campus than the frat houses.

“Johnny,” Jack corrects. Then, he shrugs. “He’s fine. Why are you getting coffee with Schneider?”

You almost burst out laughing. “For the project?” You explain, like it’s obvious. “We have to talk about it.”

“Why can’t you just go to the library? Or you could work on it during class time,” Jack says. 

Now, it’s your turn to shrug. “We want to get it done and he says he works best in a more relaxed environment.”

“Of course he does,” Jack scoffs. “Those fucking Nups. They never take anything seriously.”

“‘Nups?’” You repeat. “What the fuck is a ‘Nup?’”

“Nu Upsilon Rho,” Jack says. “Our rival frat. He’s one of the brothers.”

“So… because he’s in this frat that you don’t like… you think he’s not going to take the project seriously,” you deadpan. “Do you even know him?”

“I just think he’s going to ditch you with all the work because he’s busy,” Jack says with another shrug. He fixes his baseball cap, turning it so it’s backwards atop his head. 

“Well, I have faith in him. We’ve got a plan and he seems pretty into our topic, so I think everything will be fine.” You frown at Jack, narrowing your eyes at him. “Thanks for the concern.”

“Are you angry with me, or something?” Jack asks. “You seem mad.”

“I think you’re really overstepping,” you tell him. “My project isn’t your business. We’re not partners.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Why don’t you worry about yourself?” You’ve reached your parking lot, so this is the part where you turn left and Jack continues going straight. You cross your arms over your chest and he stops in front of you, turning to face you. You’re crowded on the left side of the sidewalk. Other students walk past you, sometimes looking at you to express their distaste at the obstacle blocking their way. 

Jack looks at you for a minute, holding eye contact without saying anything. He looks confused at your retort, a slight frown tugging at his lips. 

Those are the same lips that kissed your earlobe, your cheek, your neck. Behind them is the same tongue that licked into your mouth and slid against yours. 

You’re flushing a bit now. It takes a lot of concentration to tear yourself away from him, to look down at his feet. He’s wearing those white AF1s that he always wears, creased and gross after years of wear and tear, and that’s enough to bring you back to yourself. 

“We’re throwing a party on the last day of classes,” Jack says. “It’s, like, a final hoo-rah before finals. The theme is Ugly Christmas Sweaters. I’ll put you on the list, if you want to come.”

“Maybe,” you say. You probably won’t go. The last time you went to one of Jack’s parties, you ended up losing your head after one drink and fucking him in the downstairs bathroom where everyone could hear, just because he asked you to.

“Okay. It’ll start at nine. You can come early, too. I’ll be at the house all day.” If Jack is bothered by your uncertain answer, he doesn’t let it show. He bids you goodbye and turns away, heading towards the house. 

You watch him walk away, then you don’t think about him again until class on Wednesday. Wednesday begins exam review. Your optional exam is scheduled on the first day of finals week, in just ten days. You’ll only have two classes to summarize everything you learned this semester, since Monday and Wednesday are reserved for presentations, so it’s imperative that you pay attention. You have to pay attention in case your final project falls apart and goes completely south, the way that it seems Jack believes it will. You want to ace this final exam if you have to take it.

You barely speak with him throughout exam review on Wednesday, nor on Friday. You head to the library to work on other papers and exam reviews after your classes instead of going home, just so you don’t have to walk back with him.

If Jack’s not going to bring up the fact that you fucked, then neither are you. If he’s going to be a dick about the project, and the fact that you’re paired with one of his rival frat’s brothers, then you’re just going to ignore him.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t try to bother you during class, because he does. He’s insatiable like that. It’s impossible for him to go a class period without talking or without poking you and pouting for attention. You’re just the bigger person.

Jack’s presentation is on Monday and it goes fine. He and his partner are relatively monotone and they don’t seem to care much about their topic, so you’d say that they earned a solid C on the presentation part of the project. Hopefully their research and write-up is better and can lift their grade up to a B. You give him a high five after it’s done, just to congratulate him on completing the assignment, and he slumps in his seat. 

Your presentation is on Wednesday. You and Braden met for coffee on Sunday, like you said. He told you a bit about his girlfriend’s formal on Friday, then you got down to work. You both pulled through with your end of the research, so organizing your presentation was easy. You were in and out of the coffee shop in less than two hours, feeling fully confident that you’d be able to present well and receive an A.

On Wednesday, everything goes off without a hitch. Your professor looks impressed, scribbling only a few notes on her sheet of paper. You try not to look at Jack, lest he distract you, but he’s staring at you the whole time. He gives you a tight smile after the presentation is over and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

After class, Braden comes over and gives you a hug. You’d gotten his number before your coffee date, but he assures you that he’d love to study together in the future. You’ll have a class together next semester, anyway– the same one you’ll have with Jack, since you’re all in your last semester before graduation and everyone always ends up in the same course. 

Jack walks with you to the parking lot on Wednesday, heading home in the same direction, but his hands are shoved in his pockets and his expression is oddly blank. When you reach your normal parting point, Jack stops.

“Are you coming to the Ugly Sweater party?” He asks. 

“It’s on Friday, right?” You ask, still beaming after your successful presentation. “I don’t have any plans, I don’t think.”

“Do you have an ugly sweater?” Jack asks.

“I think I can find one.”

“I have two. You can borrow one of mine.” Jack kicks a rock to the side of the sidewalk, out of the way. “Do you want to come to the house and grab it? I know coming to frat parties early, like… isn’t fun for most people. I’ll kind of be busy before, too, so. You coming to the house now to grab it would be better. If you have nothing else to do.”

His words are jilted and awkward. You’re just as aware as he is that the last time you came to the house, you came all over his cock and he shot off inside of you. You know Jack’s thinking about that because the tips of his ears have gone red and he can’t meet your eyes.

You’d rather face the frat house now, in the light of day, than go back on a Friday night when there is a huge crowd and you can barely hear Jack.

“Yeah,” you tell him. Your answer surprises Jack, but it makes him smile. 

“Okay,” he says, trying to bite back the big grin. “C’mon.”

Together, you bypass the parking lot where your car sits. You walk together to the row of frat houses down the block. Jack swipes into the house with his student ID, holding the door open for you.

You kind of think he expects you to keep walking, but you’ve never been to his room before. You’ve only been in the dancing room– which looks like shit in the light of day, on a Wednesday afternoon– the kitchen, and that bathroom down the hall. 

Jack waves at a brother who is sitting in the living room to the right of the foyer, then guides you upstairs with a hand at the small of your back. His touch is featherlight, his fingertips pressing against the back of your sweater, bunching up the fabric. 

You make it to the top of the stairs, turning towards the left. There are more doors on that side of the hall, so you expect Jack’s room is down there. There are two doors on the right.

Jack climbs the final stairs and hooks a finger through the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you gently towards the right. “My room’s over here,” he mumbles, reaching for one of the doorhandles. “The other one is the shared bathroom for the guys. If you need the bathroom during the party, you can go in this one instead of waiting downstairs again.”

You nod, not sure how to reply. You’re not sure if you can face that bathroom without wanting to repeat your encounter with Jack. 

It’s even harder seeing his bed– unmade, messy, and looking comfortable. The sheets are wrinkled and thrown around haphazardly, his pillows flat and squished like he was hugging them in his sleep.

“Sorry for the mess,” Jack offers. “I didn’t think…”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I don’t mind. My room isn’t much better.”

That’s a lie. You have a laundry basket for your dirty clothes and Jack seems to drop them in a pile in the corner. He’s got books out, whereas yours are stacked neatly on your desk. The truthful part is that you don’t mind– you didn’t expect a clean room in a frat house.

You take a seat on the edge of his bed, clasping your hands in your lap and bouncing a bit on the mattress when you sink into it. He digs through his closet, moving hangers and pulling boxes out of cubbies to try and find the ugly sweater that you’re going to borrow.

You spot a can of Zyn on his bedside table, which makes you laugh to yourself. You’re looking around the room for more when your phone dings.

You dig it out of your pocket, checking your messages. It’s Braden, who has sent you a picture of a coffee and a donut– and his girlfriend in the background– from the same coffee shop where you met up on Sunday. His message reads: “Thanks for the recommendation! Ordered your fav to celebrate our awesome presentation today. Jos says she’ll get the butter cream next time for sure :)”

“Who’s that?” Jack asks, already facing you when you look up with a truly ugly Christmas sweater in his hands.

“Braden.”

Jack’s face clouds over. His hands drop to his sides, the sweater drooping in his right. “You’re done with the project, though.”

“So what?”

“Why are you still talking to him?”

“We get along,” you explain with a shrug. “He’s nice.”

“He’s a Nup,” Jack says again, deadpanning.

You scoff and shake your head. “Jack, just because he’s in another frat than you doesn’t mean he’s not nice. I’m friends with him just like how I’m friends with you.”

“But we were friends first,” Jack complains.

“Does that mean that I’m only allowed to be friends with you?” You ask, teasing him slightly. The idea is absurd and you need to know if Jack really means what he’s implying. “Heaven forbid I have to tell my roommate that we’re not allowed to be friends anymore because the President of Pike doesn’t allow me to talk to anyone other than him.”

“That’s not fair, you know I don’t mean that,” Jack says. 

“Jack, honey,” you begin, an air of patronization lacing the pet name. “You’re overstepping again. Let me see that sweater.” You hold a hand out, making a grabbing motion at the lump of fabric in his hand.

“You can’t just look at it,” Jack says with a pout. “You have to try it on to get the full effect. That’s what my mom always says.”

A short silence hangs in the air as you both realize what he said. It’s not like you can pull this sweater over the sweater you’re wearing– you’ll be sweltering and it won’t fit right.

Jack looks so caught on the spot that you can’t help but burst into giggles.

“Jack,” you laugh. “Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off?”

“Well, you’d put a new sweater on immediately after,” Jack says, trying to make up for his blunder. His ears are burning again, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. “I’ll even turn around.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” you say, shrugging him off. You start to pull your sweater over your head, revealing the bra you’d thrown on this morning because it was on the top of the pile in your drawer. You weren’t expecting anyone to see it.

“I mean, technically, I haven’t seen it,” Jack jumps in. “You kept your shirt on when I fucked you.”

It’s so jarring when he says it so bluntly. You’d both been avoiding the mention of your… encounter… for weeks.

“Well, now you’ve seen it, so you’ve collected the full package,” you concede, pulling the ugly sweater over your head and standing to look at yourself in the mirror in the corner of his room. 

It’s ugly. That’s for sure. There’s fake tinsel, there’s a stupid Christmas saying on the front, and there’s probably a Santa hat or reindeer headband to match.

Jack comes up behind you, smiling at you in the mirror. “Do you like it?”

“It’s an ugly Christmas sweater,” You reply. “You weren’t lying when you said that.”

Jack seems to forget that the mirror shows his expression, because he bites his lip and eyes you. “Looks good on you.”

You laugh, pulling the sweater back over your head, leaving you in your bra. You go to move past Jack, approaching the bed where your old sweater lies. “I think you just like to see a girl in your clothes, J. You seem to have a possessive streak.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jack refutes. 

You fix him with a look, glancing over your shoulder and seeing him with his arms crossed over his chest. “Jack, you don’t want me to be friends with a boy in another frat. I think you seem to believe that I’m Pike property because you fucked me once in the bathroom.”

Jack’s eyes go wide.

“Not that we’ve talked about it, because we probably should,” you point out. “We’re friends and we’ve fucked, then you acted like it never happened.”

“So did you,” Jack says, defending himself.

“I did because you did,” you tell him with a shrug. “I thought you’d bring it up during class or one of our walks. I don’t know. Maybe that was stupid of me.”

“I just didn’t think you wanted me to bring it up,” Jack says. “I thought you’d want it to be a one and done. I mean, I–” He pauses, wincing a little bit. “I came inside you. We didn’t talk about that. I didn’t know if you’d… be mad at me. So I… didn’t… talk to you?”

“I’m not mad at you for coming inside me,” you reply, shaking your head at him. “I don’t mind that. I took a Plan B afterward and everything’s fine. My period is supposed to come sometime this week. Plus, I–”

You cut yourself off, snapping your mouth shut. Jack’s not someone who you’d share your kinks with under a normal circumstance. He’s not your best friend, he’s not someone you gossip with, he’s not someone who you’re fucking regularly. It happened once, halfway in public, and that doesn’t mean he’s entitled to information about you. He doesn’t need to know that you felt feral over the way he came inside of you, with that low groan that has been replaying in your head every time you pull out your trusty vibrator and take care of yourself.

Jack cocks his head to the side. He raises an eyebrow. “You what?” He queries, expecting an answer. When you don’t answer, he takes a step forward and asks again. “You… what?”

“I’m not saying it,” you announce. 

Jack smirks. “That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Hmm, let’s think,” he teases, tapping his chin with his finger, pretending to think. “You didn’t mind when I came inside you, so I think you might… like that?”

You pull your sweater over your head, covering yourself up again. You seal your mouth shut and look at Jack, who takes another step forward, his smile only growing.

“You… want it,” Jack surmises. 

You hope your poker face is good, because he’s mighty perceptive. You would absolutely rather have a man come inside of you than in a condom. But, once again, it’s not something you were planning on telling Jack after just one fuck.

“You might be just as possessive as me,” Jack teases. He’s close enough to touch you now, so he does. He places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb smoothing against your exposed clavicle. He pushes the fabric of your sweater off your shoulder a bit, displacing it. The knitted fabric is stretchy, so it moves easily. He leans closer. “You like when I come inside of you because, well, I’m yours that way, aren’t I?”

With his hand on you and his body so close, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen up.

Yes, you think. That’s exactly it. You hadn’t been able to place your finger on exactly why before now– Jack seems to have opened your eyes. Yes, you like it when a man is so desperate and overwhelmed by the feeling of you that he has to fill you up. He’s yours. He might be marking you up in a way that claims you, but his come is a sign that he’s yours.

“And I like it,” Jack continues. “Because you’re mine.”

A shiver actually runs down your spine.

And then Jack kisses you.

It’s sensual. It makes your brain melt. He’s gentle with it, his tongue caressing your lips until you open up for him. With one hand, he cradles your cheek. His other hand slides along your waist, underneath the bottom of your sweater. It feels like he’s branding your skin with his touch– or maybe all of the ‘possessive streak’ talk is warping your brain. 

“Why did you put your shirt back on?” Jack murmurs when he pulls away. 

He’s genuinely asking, which makes you laugh and pull him in again. Your laughter has him smiling, which makes it hard to kiss him properly. It devolves into a series of sweet pecks, interrupted by a breath of laughter or a wide grin before your lips meet again.

“No, really,” Jack says between kisses. “Why’d you put your shirt back on? I didn’t get a good look.”

“You are such a goof,” you reply, touching his hip. “Obviously I didn’t know we’d be kissing by the end of this conversation.”

“I think we should do more than kiss,” Jack says.

Again, a bout of laughter escapes you. He is so blatant and honest about what he wants. It’s such a male trait– you can’t imagine being so brash.

“You don’t think so?” Jack asks.

“You’re just so– I don’t know,” you say, feeling flustered. He’s still touching you, his hands are  greedy, roaming along your middle.

“Is it– too much?” Jack asks, matching your tone. His face contorts with concern. “If you don’t want to go again, we don’t have to. I would… fuck, I want to fuck you again.”

The sincerity of his voice surprises you. You know that he’s a man and men are often fueled by their desire to have sex with a partner, but Jack’s words blossom in your stomach like a flower opening on the first warm day of spring.

“You do?” You ask, coyly goading him into saying more. 

“Baby, I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” Jack reveals, groaning a little bit with want. “I can’t use the downstairs bathroom anymore and all the guys think it’s hilarious.”

“So is that why you didn’t want me talking to Braden?” You ask. “Because you’re jealous, seeing me have fun with another guy, meanwhile you can’t stop thinking about how my pussy felt around your cock?”

The dirty words make Jack keen in the back of his throat, tugging insistently at the hem of your sweater. 

You start to remove it, slowly, teasing him. As you watch his pupils dilate, fixing on your newly revealed skin, you continue to talk: “Have you been fucking your fist a lot, Jack? While you think about me?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice merely a whisper.

“Good boy,” you praise lowly, trying to make your voice as seductive and innocent as possible without feeling like a fool. “I’ve been fucking myself to the thought of you, too.” 

Your shirt comes off, dropping to the ground, but Jack’s eyes find your face.

He bites his lip, his eyes dancing along your features. “Fingers?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Been using a toy.”

Jack’s blue eyes are starting to look black, shadowed and heady with lust. They’re devoid of emotion– except for one: want.

“Good?” He asks.

Again, you shake your head. “Not as good as the real thing.” You bring your hands to his pants, popping the button on his jeans slowly, to build suspense or even give him a chance to kiss you again. He’s standing still, staring at you with those dark eyes, so you drag the zipper of his pants down and reach in, palming his length over his underwear. 

Jack’s eyes stay on you as you touch him, the blue of his eyes matching the navy of the midnight sky. 

You stroke him until you’re certain he can’t grow any harder. Then, you push his t-shirt up to reveal his stomach, somehow soft and toned at the same time. You scratch along his abdomen, lifting the fabric. His mouth curves up at the edges when you’re finally able to pull the shirt off of him, leaving his hair disheveled. It’s cute like this, you decide.

The air between you is tense, his gaze weighing on you. You kiss him again, just because you can, and you use the distraction to push at his jeans until they’re falling to the ground. His lips are wet against yours. He must have licked them while he was staring, while you stroked him.

One of his hands works on your jeans, but you’re much more concerned with the hand that’s petting over the clasp of your bra. He’s able to unfasten it quickly. Once your bra is loose, he acts quickly. He brings his hand to your front and pulls at the band of the delicate piece. He drops to a knee, leaving your lips behind, but kissing over your stomach as he tugs at your jeans. They’re tight around your hips, so it takes him a second to get them off, but his fervor and determination aides him.

Once he’s got you in your underwear, completely braless, he rises. He covers your skin in wet, messy kisses as he comes back up. He captures one nipple between his teeth, then moves to the other and sucks. His hands are flush against your ass, squeezing your skin and keeping you close. 

“Fuck, Jack,” you moan, threading your fingers through his hair and breathing in languorous spurts. 

“Wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs. “But I’ve been waiting for this for weeks. I can’t wait any longer.”

“So fuck me,” you tell him. “I want you to. I want you to fuck me now.”

Jack smiles against your skin, licking over your nipple one more time before he comes back to his height. “Music to my ears, babe.” He places a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth, helping you step backwards until you’re against the bed. “Lay down. Let me touch you.”

You obey, climbing onto the messy bed and making yourself comfortable among his pillows. Jack joins you, climbing up your body and planting another kiss on your lips. He takes a pillow from beside your head and brings it under your hips, tapping your sides so that you lift up for him. 

“Good girl,” he mumbles. 

His words are quiet, but they still give you a burst of pride. 

He’s already moving to pull your panties down, biting his lip in concentration. His eyes are fixed on the point between your legs, even though his face is level with yours. His hair is falling into your space, tickling your forehead. You take a moment to take him in. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you stare at him. You know Jack’s attractive, because you look at him all the time and you like looking at him, but in this moment, he’s a work of art. You might have stopped breathing.

You gasp when he touches you. His fingertips are blunt and careful as they sweep through your wet folds. 

The gasp takes Jack by surprise, his eyes flickering to your face, and he smiles when he meets you there. “Are you always this wet when we’re together?” He asks. “I’m imagining you in class, absolutely soaked even though I haven’t touched you.”

“Fuck off,” you laugh, bringing a hand to his hair again and smoothing it back. 

“That’s a no?”

“Definitely a no,” you say. “I’m not just wet because you’re around, Jack. It doesn’t work like that. This is because you’re a good kisser. And, well, because you sucked on my nipples.”

Jack brightens. “And I’ll do it again, too.”

You grip his hair before he can dip down and make good on his vow. “Slow down there, cowboy,” you say. 

Jack laughs at that, kissing your lips instead of finding your nipple. He swipes a finger against your clit, making you gasp again, into his mouth this time. 

“Mm,” Jack hums patronizingly. “Does it feel good?”

He fills you with his middle finger and thumbs at your clit, working the digits in tandem to make you whimper.

“Listen to yourself,” he says. “All that noise for me?”

“Fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Jack. I need you to fuck me.”

“You need it?” Jack teases, sliding his ring finger inside of you, joining the other. 

“Don’t be a dick,” you whine. 

“God, and I thought it was embarrassing how bad I want you,” he simpers. “But, you make a good point. We both want it. Let’s not wait.”

He removes his hand from between your legs, the empty feeling foreign and dissatisfying. He shucks off the final bit of clothing remaining between the two of you, throwing the underwear over his shoulder comically. It’s not sexy, but he’s so charming and goofy that you swoon anyway.

Jack fists his cock, stroking himself. He aligns himself with your entrance, teasing your folds and bumping your clit with the head of his cock. He smiles to himself, gaze meeting yours before he speaks. He quirks an eyebrow, coming lower to kiss you again because he just can’t help himself. “Let’s fill you up, hm? Just like you like.”

“Just like you like,” you parrot back.

He murmurs a quiet agreeance as he pushes into you. He goes slow, sinking into you in a direct contrast with how he fucked you last time. “Still so tight,” Jack acknowledges. “You feel just as good as last time.”

You hold his shoulder, one hand twisting into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He dips down to smear a kiss against your jugular, mouthing at the area where your pulse races. Jack starts to roll his hips, feeling you out. Even though it was the whole point, you realize suddenly that he’s bare inside of you. It’s like the piece of information was delayed and that you didn’t understand it until you felt him, felt the way his cock was weeping inside of you.

“Jack,” you moan, pulling him closer. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at the small of his back. You don’t let up, not until his pelvis is flush with yours and his stomach is practically touching your own. You need him to be close– you’re drunk on the feeling of having him inside of you, bare and leaking.

“I know,” he soothes, rocking into you. He kisses you again, his tongue lathering your lips and petting whatever area he can touch– teeth, tongue, the roof of your mouth… it’s messy, but driven completely by his desire, and you love it.

Your whines and whimpers, musings about how well he fills you, and your trembling touches fuel him. 

He fucks you deeply, making sure his cock brushes against your cervix with each thrust. You lose the ability to kiss him when he taps your sweet spot, keening in a way that has him grinning. You clench down involuntarily, which makes him choke a bit on his own breath and stutter his movements. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, if you keep squeezing me like that, this is going to end a lot faster than I want it to,” Jack tells you, grimacing through another thrust. He snaps his hips, showing no signs of stopping even though he seems determined to last. 

“I want you to come,” you goad, practically begging. “Please, Jack, fill me up. Need you to come in my pussy, I need it.”

Jack makes a choked moan in the back of his throat, his head dipping to bury itself in your neck. He nibbles your neck, keeping his teeth in place to quiet himself as he quickens his pace. His breath is like music in your ears, panting and turning high pitched when you squeeze him again. “Baby, shit,” he moans, dropping to his elbows, bracketing your head. 

You grind up against him, your hips lifting off the bed and the pillow completely. 

He rearranges his position, shifting his weight to one arm so that he can reach down and rub circles over your clit with his dominant hand. His fingers, the ones next to your head, toy with your hair. He thrusts as hard as he can, his thick cock pistoning into your heat and making your stomach turn over from the pleasure. 

The pressure on your clit sends sparks through your body. You can feel the pleasure in your clenched fingertips, the burning tips of your ears, and in your curled toes. He’s everywhere, and his cum is seconds from marking you.

“Be mine,” you plead. You mean to say, ‘fill me up, put your cum inside me until it spills out of me, come apart like your cum belongs to me,’ but what you hear is different. You hear yourself ask him for more than just a fuck– you hear a slogan from a chalky Valentine’s heart, begging for a romantic connection.

He’s a frat boy. He won’t acknowledge this, he won’t understand what you mean. He’ll take it the wrong way and he’ll never talk to you again, even if you show up to the party on Friday. He’ll say hello, then look over you to find the next girl–

“I’m yours,” Jack replies, breathless. “All yours.”

The relief that comes with his reply washes over you. You cry out, unable to stop yourself from clenching down on his member and succumbing to the pleasure that had been building up inside of you.

You let your release take hold of you, throwing your head back and baring your neck to Jack. He takes advantage of the newly revealed skin, sucking on the skin below your jaw. His nose presses against the side of your face, his breath wet against your skin. 

“Good, baby, so good,” Jack praises as he fucks you through your release. “Y’feel so perfect around me, gonna give you what you want, just another minute…”

His hips work in a frenzy, snapping into you with lewd noises that mix with the noises falling from both of your lips. It only takes a few more thrusts before Jack is shuddering in your arms, his lips coming to smudge a messy, passionate kiss against yours. He spills inside of you, filling you with his hot, intoxicating cum until there’s none remaining in his cock.

His hips slow when he’s done, his blinks becoming longer and slower as he regains his breath. He watches himself thrust into you a final few times, his mouth open slightly and eyes trained on the spot like he’s in a trance. 

You snap your fingers by his face, drawing his attention. “My eyes are up here, pretty boy.”

Jack bursts into a fit of giggles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and peppering you with kisses. He uses the leverage, and the wide expanse of his bed, to roll over so that you’re laying on top of him. He touches your hips, your ass, the smooth plane of your back, all the way up to your shoulderblades before wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping you there. 

He kisses you silly, cradling your cheek with one hand. Occasionally, he allows you to pull away, but you never go far. He’ll play with the strands of your hair, gazing at you with a satisfied, smug smirk on his lips. 

“It’s a date party,” Jack says eventually.

“What is?” You ask, your nose scrunching in confusion. 

“The ugly sweater party. It’s a date party. I was conning you into being my date.”

You barely stifle a laugh. “You’re a fucking freak.”

“Hey,” Jack complains, pouting. “Not all of us can just say shit like ‘be mine’ in the middle of sex.”

You pat his chest, clicking your tongue at him to reprimand him for mocking your words. “Says the boy who tried to trick me into being his date for a frat function.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Jack shrugs, pulling you in for another kiss.

It’s slow, like the first one. Your lips move together until you’ve both run out of air. Jack returns to your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“Gonna get you a Plan B in the morning,” he says. His tone sounds like he’s wondering, still thinking about it, although you know that he’s stating a fact and formulating a plan. “But I think, if we want to keep doing this, we’re going to have to figure something out about birth control.”

Normally, you wouldn’t allow a man to tell you what to do with your body. Today, though, you concede. He’s right. The world isn’t ready for a little Jack, and you don’t want him to stop coming inside of you, so you make a mental note to call your doctor tomorrow.

Still, you can’t resist the chance to make a joke.

“Maybe we’ll get you a vasectomy instead,” you tease, touching his bottom lip with your index finger. “They’re reversible, you know.”

note: i couldn't resist posting this, since i finished it before i expected to. I LOVE YOU FRAT JACK! (am willing to skip the plan b but only if you're also down)

[keisl0vergirl]

prove it

[parings] fuckboy!jungkook x reader

[word count] 1.4K

[genre] fluff, 2 drops of angst, member pining bc i love it

[summary] jungkook swears he’s done with his fuckboy ways and wants you, so you tell him to prove it.

[authors note] inspiration. idk this song gives me fuckboy!jungkook vibes😶‍🌫️.

“heard you got about 4 bitches, tried to say you have less boy don’t do it.”

“I’m telling you she’s lying.” Jungkook groaned, dragging his hands across his face, accidentally rubbing the sweat that had accumulated on them onto his cheeks.

“So you didn’t leave a party with another girl, hm? Jungkook, trust me it’s fine, you’re not mine and I’m not yours. You can do what you like.”

You and Jungkook had been going back and forth for the last 10 minutes and he was tired. Tired of you depicting him as a bad guy who plays around with girls, especially when you were the next girl he wanted.

He was spotted leaving a party with a random girl he met that night, your best friend snapping pictures for you. She sent them to you without a second thought; it looked like you was getting close to Jungkook and she didn’t want him to hurt you. No more than he already had.

Once he realised that you knew about his failed night, he had ran straight to your dorm, pouring his heart out infront of your door.

“But I don’t want anyone, I want you,” he reached for your hand, intertwining it with his. “Y/n, I know it looks bad but I promise you, we didn’t have sex. We were going to but then you popped into my head and I couldn’t do it to you.”

"Nice to know that I cockblocked you." You chuckled. In all honesty, you had been expecting a situation like this. Ever since Jungkook decided that you were the next girl he wanted to obsess over, it was destined to happen because despite your hidden hope, you knew he couldn’t commit to one person.

Jungkook was ready to drop to his knees, he could feel his eyes prickle every time you shot down his advances. “Y/n. It was a moment of weakness, I was drinking, I wasn’t thinking straight. You know how much I want us to happen—”

“Do I?” Scoffing, you crossed your arms. “Tell me Kook, have you ever showed me that you actually want me?”

He looked at the ground unable to meet your piercing gaze.

You was right.

All he’d done was confess his feelings for you and attempt to flirt. It wasn’t that he was shy but he had never felt this way for anyone and didn’t know how to show that in words or actions.

You sighed, “Listen, Jungkook. I believe you. We’re good.”

This is what he had wanted all night… so why did it feel like you were giving up?

“No!” He gripped your hand tighter, “I’ll show you I’ve changed. No more girls, no more flirting with anyone that flirts with me. Just you. Only you.”

“We’ll see about that.” You gave him a smile and with that, your front door shut.

3 weeks had passed. Jungkook did everything he could possibly do. He would be at your door by 8:20 with a bagel and a piece of fruit, knowing you didn't bother making breakfast on the days you had morning classes. It was his self proclaimed duty to carry your bag to all your lectures.

Today, however, had been your rest day. Your professor was ill and emailed you your work.

Someone must've told Jungkook that your professor cancelled as he wasn't knocking on your door with that stupid but cute grin he always had.

You still didn't fully trust him but you appreciated him making such an effort. Your friends, the ones that advised you to stay away from him and his heartbreaker ways, even told you about him curving his old flings, going as far as to block them on every social platform he had.

Hours passed and the sky finally dimming, you had finished your work a while ago and decided to take a nap. You hadn't been sleeping as well as you usually did, your current workload weighing on you.

A loud knock ripped through your apartment, you immediately hopping out of bed. It not only woke you up, but angered you.

Why was someone banging down your door as if you owed them rent?

Approaching the door, your frown was evident as you were ready to go off.

"Y/N?" Jungkook. “Are you home?”

You yawned, slowly unlocking the door. "What are you doing here? You know I don't take night classes, right? I tried once but I kept falling asleep when I was supposed to attend them."

Jungkook smiled at your rambling and stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I'm here because I want to spend time with you. My friends ditched me to go to some party, and I thought we could eat, watch a movie and chill." He raised his left hand, holding a white bag packed with food. The smell caused your stomach to rumble, he laughed as you buried your head into his chest.

"Yeah, come in." Jungkook had been in your dorm before, but it wasn’t when you guys were this close. It was a brief meeting, he came over to pick up something for a friend.

He was sitting on your small sofa with you cuddled into his side, a blush evident on his cheeks. The movie was one of your favourites, you even recited some of your favourite scenes, but that didn’t stop your eyes from closing. A good meal and cuddling always did this to you.

Jungkook noticed how relaxed you were, you even let yourself rest your head on his shoulder. However, the light snores coming from you were enough to tell him that it was time for him to leave and let you sleep.

Hooking his arms under your legs and shoulders, he tiptoed to your bed, gently laying you down. With a soft kiss to your forehead, he spun around, wanting to leave before he did something to wake you up. “Kook? Where are you going?”

“I’m going home, I didn’t want to keep you up. You have a busy day tomorrow.” He turned on his heel, heading for the door.

“Wait!” You sat up, going underneath your blankets and leaving them open. “Do you, uh, maybe wanna stay the night? I cant promise that it’ll be comfortable but—”

“I’d love it.” He took off his shirt and you immediately looked away. “Someone’s shy.” He laughed, happy to have some type of effect on you.

“Hurry up before I kick you out.” You argued back. He slid in next to you, feet reaching the end of your bed.

Since he met you, he's always felt some type of way about you but never took the time to delve deeper into his feelings. Until he saw you laughing and dancing with your friends in a party 5 months ago. There was something about how your dress hugged your curves, how your smile shone through the room, how you seemed to be the only one he could see, think of, in a crowd of beautiful women that changed his heart. He suddenly didn't know how to act around you, stuttering and making up excuses to leave conversations you were always in.

Yoongi and Jimin were the first to catch on, sitting him down and forcing him to face his feelings. It wasn't easy but they finally came up with the conclusion that he was crushing on you.. hard. Jungkook then tried to get rid of these feelings by going to every party around and doing what he does best, chatting up girls.

He had earned himself a name around college; one that he knew you would want nothing to do with. You had a bold personality; down to earth and friendly, but the one thing you valued was your privacy.

You lowkey strayed away from Jungkook when he began to embrace his popularity on campus. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing but you wanted a quiet life, preferably one without friends who had eyes on them 25/8.

It broke his heart when he overheard you say “Jungkook? The one who is known as a fuckboy? Ooh, he’s cool and all but not my type. I like mines quiet, calm not rowdy party animals.”

Which lead him to where he is now, he stopped the partying, stopped the girls. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed in the first place so it wasn’t hard.

“Hey, Kook?” You whispered, hands rubbing his cheeks.

“Mhm.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Yeah, he was too.

© 2021 all right reserved.

[1kook]

BORN SINNER III

→ MASTERLIST

summary; Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you. warnings; virgin jungkook, timid jungkook, church boy jk, a LOT of religious themes/discussion, catholic guilt, fear of sinning, mentions of masturbation, heavy doubts, a little paranoia/fear of being outcasted, jk has a crush, confessions, making out, boob lover jk has his boobs touched, groping/petting, light praise, very brief/light choking, jk is horny like 75% of the time, positive character development <3 rating; m (18+) wc; 9.5k

banner; as always, by @jamaisjoons​ !! ty ty ty!! <3333

notes; i have to apologize for delaying this update for so long. truth is, it was difficult to write the next part bc i felt like i had trapped myself in pt2-- jk wasn't showing ANY progress & i started to really hate his character. LUCKILY, with the help of my amazing editor n wife @kigurumu​ *audience cheers* i was able to put him back on the right track towards redemption! (& even more painful angst in the future!) sadly, that means that this part doesn't include any explicit smut, you'll see why. still, I'm very proud of how much i was able to build his character in this part and i hope you enjoy it!!! lemme know what u think <3

in the future, i will try my best to make sure the chapters aren’t so spaced out. again, i am so so sorry about taking so long to update this series

He gets your text the following Tuesday morning. 

Now, Jungkook has never been one to be overly invested in his cell phone; he uses it as much as he needs to, just checks his emails, takes some photos, and sends texts when necessary. But you had set up a particularly unique ringtone for yourself the other day, had sweetly asked for his phone as he laid against your chest. His skin had felt warm and the slightest bit sweaty, his body pressed so closely against you that he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. “Did you have fun?” you asked, fingers combing back his hair. He had hummed, eyes fluttering shut to the faint tapping of your fingers across the keyboard. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember the soft beating of your heart beneath his ear, the leg you had hooked around his waist to pull him closer. The memory makes him shiver. 

It’s a high-pitched bell sound that alerts him of your messages now, completely unlike the classic default tone he had set for everyone else. 

From the other side of his room, Jungkook immediately pauses to look at it, the lit up screen glaring back at him from its idle place on his bedside table. He always leaves it there in the mornings, beside his rosary and the picture of his family, as he gets ready for work. 

He knows exactly who it’s from— after all, that’s what you wanted when you stylized your ringtone —which is why his hand trembles in excitement as he unlocks his phone. 

[❤️]: picnic tomorrow? 🥰

[❤️]: after my last class of course

Jungkook’s first thought is that this was a date, his first one with you since he had met you. His heartbeat hammers at the thought, at the mere suggestion that the two of you would be able to spend more time together this week outside of your usual weekend… acts. Additionally, if you’re asking him on a date, then surely it means you view Jungkook as a potential suitor, just as he does you? Do you want to maybe date Jungkook? Jungkook certainly wants to date you— in fact, if he starts gathering his courage now, he might be able to properly ask you out tomorrow. 

Jungkook’s second thought is of that guilty, gross feeling that’s been gnawing at his insides for three days now, and how it was inevitably going to get worse when he saw you again. 

He had lied to you, Jungkook recalls, sinking down against his mattress, shirt half buttoned, as he stares at the screen. He had lied to your face during a critical moment, had felt that seed of doubt in his chest blossom more than ever. And not only had Jungkook lied to you, but he had lied to you about his feelings toward you. How could he ever hope to hold you close, to date you, when he couldn’t even be honest with you?

The memory of your curious gaze presents itself at the forefront of his mind, the soft sound of your laughter ringing in his ears. 

You had been so sweet to him despite his blunder, had cupped his face and kissed him on the lips when he dropped you off outside your apartment. “Not today,” you crooned, unbuckling yourself as Jungkook’s eyes trailed over your throat— ignoring your cross —and down your chest. “I have schoolwork to catch up on. But soon, okay?” Another sweet peck had left him trailing after your touch, your finger bopping the tip of his nose playfully. “Call me when you get home.”

And because he was so terribly, irrevocably smitten with you, Jungkook had done as you said and called you. He’d called you and then had whimpered against his sheets as you generously talked him through another sinful deed. You had softly sighed his name over the line, told him he was handsome and that you missed him. That you wanted him in your mouth—

And of course, he had felt… something afterwards. 

This is where his dilemma begins: Jungkook had felt something afterwards, and he’s not sure if it had been entirely good or bad. The longer Jungkook stays around you, hangs out with you, does things with you— the more he can feel parts inside of himself change. Because after the phone call, Jungkook had felt two distinct emotions within himself, both of which were up for questioning. 

First, there was that one feeling he was becoming all too familiar with, the crushing guilt that would consume him following any sexual interaction with you or himself for that matter. Why was he like this? Why did he indulge himself in such heinous pleasures when he knew, knew better than anyone, what committing such acts meant for the future of his soul? He was practically dooming himself the way he was now, but Jungkook just didn’t understand— why did something so bad feel so good?

But alongside that gnawing guilt was this tiny, weirdly pleasant satisfaction, a gratification that superseded the relief felt by an orgasm. It was this oddly serene feeling that settled over Jungkook in the moments following a climax, the soft brush of your hands through his hair, the low lilt of your voice. They made him feel like he was floating on the softest of clouds, kissed and pampered by its wispy tendrils. It made something inside of Jungkook feel different, new. Good. 

(In the back of his mind, Jungkook realizes he’s always felt that way. At the height of his pleasure, at the faintest brush of your hands against his. It was a staple of your presence, one that made Jungkook feel like he was walking on air.)

From whatever angle he looked at it, it just didn’t make sense. They were contrasting emotions; while one made him feel godawful, the other one practically made him transcend. The fact they could coincide, exist all at once, had Jungkook’s brain folding in on itself as he tried to figure out why. They kept him up the last few nights, eyes blankly staring up at his ceiling following his evening prayers. Mulling over everything he’s ever learned and been told, always circling it back to your beautiful presence in his life. 

He knows sex in itself is not bad— after all, that was how the beautiful process of life came to be —but years upon years of studying his religion, cultivating his faith, had all led him to the same conclusion: premarital sex was wrong. And for the past few weeks, well. That’s all Jungkook had been doing with you. 

It seems like every time you meet, you’re dead set on pleasuring him, turning Jungkook into a shivering, teary-eyed mess while you grinned from above. That confused him too— as far as Jungkook knew, the whole point of sex was to chase after your own pleasure, something you admittedly did not do. It was always Jungkook’s pleasure, Jungkook’s enjoyment that you wanted, covering him in languid kisses and long caresses until he was inevitably shooting his hot cum all over your lap and into your hands. 

You had told him it was okay, that he should never feel bad for enjoying himself. But, to return back to his original dilemma, he doesn’t quite know if he can trust your word. 

You’re a liar, that much Jungkook can look past his rose-tinted glasses to admit. While you may not have lied to him (or at least, Jungkook wants to believe you haven’t), the fact still stands that you are quite willing to deceive others in order to get what you want. He already knows you aren’t the biggest believer of the Church yourself, that you frequently brush off your religious duties in order to fulfill your own desires— the aforementioned sexual cravings probably the biggest one —so, quite frankly, Jungkook is untrusting of the rest of your practices. Were you lying to him, telling him all was well, just for your own benefit? Just because you wanted to drag him along on your lustful adventures? He wasn’t sure, and as much as he wanted to trust you wouldn’t, there’s a shred of doubt that plagues him. 

But still. 

Regardless of whether you are a liar or not, that didn’t make it okay for Jungkook to lie to you.

He taps his phone against his chin, brain a frenzied mess. 

If Jungkook really wanted to pursue this relationship with you, he needed to be honest with himself and with you. Did it bother him that you were so flippant with the Church, the one he himself feels so devoted to? Yes and no. Jungkook has never been one to impress his beliefs on others, and truthfully, he would not be the slightest bit bothered if you don’t believe in the same things he does. Would there be some awkwardness in your relationship? Certainly, but at least Jungkook would know the real you from the very beginning. 

But to him, posing as an avid follower when you really aren’t rubs part of him the wrong way. He’s slightly put off by that aspect of you, and justifiably felt that anyone would feel such a way if someone were to use something they love as mere leverage for their own personal gain. And to make matters worse, now that he’s been made aware, it weighs down heavily on his conscience. 

Part of Jungkook, as selfish as it may be, wishes you had never revealed your secrets to him. He may have been left in the dark a total fool, but at the very least he would have been a happy fool. Would he still feel guilt about all the sexual deeds he’s partaken in with you? Sure, but at least he would only have himself to blame. The way things are now, he’s unsure who really needs to be condemned. 

Realistically, it is Jungkook’s fault. He knows how you are and even more, he knows you would never proposition him for any such sexual deed if he told you no, if he simply denied you. But he doesn’t tell you no, and that’s the problem: Jungkook really likes you as you are now, questionable behavior be damned. He likes you when you make him cry and when you pinch his cheeks and when you snake your hand down his pants. 

He still thinks you’re amazing, gets this fluttery feeling when you look at him with that sparkling gaze of yours. Your laughter makes him smile, even if you’re not laughing at something he said, because the sound is just so comforting, warm and soothing, makes his entire body relax when you chuckle. You have this gentle touch, these delicate hands that carefully comb his hair back for him in the car sometimes, tracing the side of his face softly. Your smile makes him dizzy, makes him want to cup your face in his hands and kiss you breathless. And, of course, he can’t complain about your… other talents when he’s only been on the beneficial receiving end of said talents. That aforementioned satisfaction, as small as it may be and as difficult as it was to admit to, was something Jungkook has begun to look forward to on the occasions that you meet. 

But his inability to overlook his own beliefs and your confusing nature brings about a great strife within Jungkook. It’s the reason he hesitates outside the church after dropping you off, his car running as he glares at his steering wheel. Everything in him says to go inside and confess to his sins, relieve himself of this overwhelming sense of guilt and shame to the closest person to his Lord. 

But he’s scared. 

Scared that, despite the oath of confidentiality, word will get out. His fellow brothers in faith will hear about what he’s done and call him out for his lecherousness. But even worse, he’s scared of what will happen to you. Would Jungkook’s life be over if he were thrown out of his beloved church? As dramatic as he may be, no. But he recognized that there were different standards to which men were held in this society, that an act of desire by him would not ruin his name the same way it would you. 

And Jungkook didn’t want that. He wanted to keep you safe. Wanted you to be happy and smiling, regardless of how conflicted it made him, because he likes you. He likes you so much, despite the fact he has yet to uncover the true extent of your character. 

But the cloud of mystery is partially what intrigues him, has him pondering over your very existence instead of getting ready for work as he is now. He’s terribly enamored, thinks about you and prays for you every night. So maybe Jungkook is still the fool, because he still daydreams about you when he knows he shouldn’t. 

His phone buzzes in his hand—

[❤️]: i miss you bunny ☹️

—and his decision is made. 

Tuesday passes by in a blur and before he knows it, it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re texting him the location of one of the parks in the city. You had told him not to worry about the food because you would bring it. Jungkook’s only job was bringing the picnic blanket, a huge checkered thing he had spent all morning rifling through three stores for. He wants to impress you, desperately so, that he’s even wearing a nicer outfit today, darker tones unlike his normal warm palette because he had heard a woman at his job say men look cooler in dark colors. 

Suffice to say, he sticks out like a sore thumb at the park, the stark black of his jeans contrasting with the vibrant green of the neatly cut grass. Jungkook has half the mind to feel self-conscious about it, but then you’re calling his name from a couple meters away and his breath leaves his lungs. 

“Hi,” you greet, the handle of your wicker basket held tightly between two hands; Jungkook rushes to relieve you of the weight. “Did you wait long?” you ask, rewarding his gentlemanly behavior with a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth that kick-starts his heart back into action and has his face burning up. 

In all honesty, you have never dressed very modestly— not that you had to, nor that there was anything remotely wrong with that. Jungkook has spent many a mass service fighting the urge to glance down the front of your dresses and tops, ignoring the cleavage you liked to show off now and then. But apparently, what Jungkook had seen up until now was your version of dressing modestly. The dress you show up with today, an off day where there are no church ladies to impress and no unspoken dress codes to follow, makes his brain short circuit. The thin, thin, straps that hold it up giving him an all access view to the broad expanse of your shoulders and chest and collarbones and boobs—

“No!” Jungkook rushes to reassure you, fighting down the blush that threatens to travel further down his neck when you carefully straighten out the collar of his shirt for him. “I- I, um, just got here.” 

You beam at the news. “I bought cheesecake,” you tell him, looping your arm through his as you tug him along. “I hope it hasn’t melted yet!”

By the time the two of you settle at a suitable spot near the lake, the cheesecake hasn’t melted. It’s still cold and solid, tastes like heaven on Jungkook’s tongue, and you laugh when his eyes light up. You look gorgeous like this, nestled against the checkered picnic blanket with a glass bottle of sparkling water in your hand, sandals just beside the edge of the blanket. There’s the faint chime of a bicycle bell somewhere to his left and the chatter of birds as they flock over the pond. Wonderful sights that would normally take his breath away and make him marvel at their beauty, but when you smile at him so gingerly like that, all Jungkook can think about is you. 

He watches you slip a strawberry past your lips. “Tell me about yourself,” you hum, seemingly out of the blue, wiping the corner of your mouth with one careful finger. “Other than, like, church stuff,” you tease. 

As you lean forward for another one, Jungkook’s brain stutters for a moment, eyes focused on the curves of your boobs as they naturally follow the movements of your upper body until he’s dizzy. “Huh?” he says, and you snort. “Oh— me, right, yes um—“

“Your favorite color?” you suggest, tugging the skirt of your dress tighter around your legs. It’s not cold, but there’s a slight breeze that keeps rolling over the two of you, pushing your floral scent over Jungkook and fluttering through his hair. “Right now, all I know is that you like cheesecake because you ate three slices at the bazaar the other week,” you chuckle.

It’s such a basic question, the bare minimum of knowing a person. But when you look at Jungkook like that, blinking those long lashes at him, it makes him forget his answer. “Um… Red,” he murmurs, watching you tug off the stem of the strawberry in your hands. “And white.”

You nod, and then you’re stretching a hand outward to offer him the aforementioned strawberry. When he doesn’t open his mouth right away, you silently demonstrate first, until Jungkook is slowly parting his lips and accepting your strawberry. The flavor bursts on his tongue, sweet and sticky, coating the very tips of your fingers when you don’t pull away fast enough. Jungkook averts his gaze when you pop them between your own lips and suck them clean. 

“Red and white,” you repeat, unaware of the lustful images that flicker through Jungkook’s mind, the way his eyes unconsciously drop to the front of your dress, at the crevice between your breasts that he remembers oh so well, the tight suction around his cock as you— “They make pink, which is my favorite color.” He desperately clears his mind of the memories that flash before his eyes. 

It’s a pretty color, fit for a pretty girl. Jungkook keeps the thought to himself as he watches you sift through the contents of your basket. It’s the perfect compliment to give you, he knows it’d make you happy, but his valor disappears when you throw him a soft grin and he’s transported back to a more recent memory, the memory in the car instead. 

A bad influence, he had called you, had watched your eyes well up with an emotion he had never seen on you before. Sadness? Disappointment? Disgust? He wasn’t sure, all Jungkook could really remember was the acidity on your tongue when you had repeated the words back to him, the ghost of your touch when you had abruptly pulled away from him, shut him out. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so closed off before, not even when he had first met you and you were parading around with that staged shyness. 

And even when Jungkook had corrected himself afterwards (read: lied to you to cover his tracks), the emotion had lingered. Even when you had playfully brushed him off, he had caught your reflection in the window beside you as he drove to your place. The sullen look on your normally happy face, lips down-turned, eyes lowered. A look he had put there. 

And now he’s watching you carefully rip apart bread to throw at the birds with a tender smile. A cloud moves and suddenly the sun is beating down on your little picnic again, casting a beautiful glow across your skin that renders him breathless for the shortest moment, trapped by the sheer beauty you exude. You’re absolutely ethereal, and yet he had questioned you. Your morals, your character, everything. 

“__?” he says before he can stop himself. 

You hum, “yes, bunny?” before pausing your little feeding task to glance back over at him. When you look at Jungkook like this, meet his gaze straight on, he doesn’t see an ounce of ingenuity in your eyes. It might be Jungkook’s lovesick heart speaking, but he can’t imagine you ever lying to him. He looks away first, frowning at the various fruits sprawled between the two of you. 

You care about him, that much Jungkook wants to believe. And his beliefs are confirmed, when your voice drops an octave lower, becomes softer, as you murmur, “is everything alright?” The fruits are carefully set aside, breaking the wall between the two of you until you can shuffle forward, your knees bumping against his. Hands reach for his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against his skin. 

Before you can repeat your inquiry a second time, Jungkook finds himself asking, “do you like me?” 

Jungkook’s sudden inquiry makes your cheeks heat up just the slightest, your startled inhale barely contained. 

It’s like a scene straight out of a teenage romcom— a confession in a park, your hearts bared for each other. But it’s a little awkward, you have to admit, unintentionally giving Jungkook’s soft hand a nervous squeeze as his question rolls over in your mind. 

Duh, you want to say. But there’s something about the look in Jungkook’s eye— the eyes he very purposefully turns towards your hands, the hair he had let loose today providing him ample protection from your gaze —that has you pausing, carefully considering your next words. 

You had hoped by now that it was obvious, that Jungkook understood how much he meant to you, and didn’t require some dorky confession in the park. Partially because, well. This wasn’t your usual role. Usually, it was the guy confessing to you, raving about all your redeeming qualities in an effort to win you over. But with Jungkook, all you know about relationships is flipped upside down, forcing you to play a position you’ve never played before. 

Jungkook wasn’t like you; he was soft and sentimental, practically wore his heart on his sleeve for the whole world to see. And it was a massive heart, filled with so much love and adoration for the world around him, that you felt bad when he wore such sullen expressions on his face.

Expressions like the one he has now, lips pressed together tightly as he misreads your silence. He has honest eyes, a dark toffee color that sends tingles down your spine when he looks your way. They glimmer with a sort of innocence for the world, a thin sparkle that makes him look like a prince sometimes. He was devastatingly handsome, and now he was upset. “Um— it’s okay,” he stammers, trying to move the conversation along. But his eyes flicker around nervously, anxiously. Like your silence has left a burn mark on him, painful and delicate to the touch. 

His comment isn’t completely unexpected. How very on-brand for big-hearted Jungkook to try to save you from an uncomfortable interaction, even if it was caused by him. “Um…” he murmurs, “it’s okay. If you don’t, uh. Like me?”

It sounds flimsy, even to you. 

“No, no,” you rush to correct, your ability to speak slowly coming back to you only after the fact. “I do,” you admit, nerves on edge at this rather foreign situation. “I… like you a lot, Jungkook.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by his reaction. Jungkook blinks slowly, like his brain is still processing the information, and then, ever so artfully, goes up in metaphorical flames. “O- Oh,” he stutters, reaching a free hand up to press his knuckles against his face. The rosy hue that had first blossomed over his cheeks has now started crawling down his neck now, up his ears. It’s terribly endearing. “I— um. I didn’t know,” Jungkook rambles, and it’s so cute, so sweet, how a simple confession from you renders him this flustered.

His face emanates a warmth tangible even on your own skin, lips cutely quirking to the side as he fights off a bashful smile and the raging blush your words bring about. It certainly is a sight to see. His hair tickles his eyebrow, swept out of its usually neat style, but it makes him look all the more gorgeous. “Cute,” you chuckle, feeling the slightest bit shy at such a warm response from Jungkook. You sit back, giving him the space he needs, and turn your attention up at the big blue sky instead. “Really? I thought it was obvious,” you hum.

Part of you actually feels really awkward; as you said before, everything is so brand new with him.  With Jungkook, he flips everything around for you, makes you actually admit to your emotions as opposed to simply going along with his. It’s a nice change of pace, as difficult as it may be, and the results are rather… cute as well. (He bites down a smile, but the action makes his normally soft cheeks look more pronounced than usual.) 

“Because, I, um. Me too,” he says, voice wavering. He clears his throat and tries to meet your gaze under his fringe, but doesn’t last more than a second before he’s pointedly glancing at the picnic blanket beneath the two of you. “I’m— I like you too,” he admits, ears tinted a bright red. You figured as much but it was always nice to hear, especially from someone like Jungkook. “A lot.”

“Thanks,” you smile, placing a hand on his thigh. 

His lips pull into a shy smile, aimed at your knees because he can never look you in the eye when you shower him in praise and other gooey, mushy feelings. It’s the same in the car or against your front door— he always manages to give your hand a tight squeeze, maybe even a kiss if he’s feeling brave. But the second you try to tell him you’ve had fun or that you’ll miss him, it’s like all his courage fades away, leaving him a blushing, smiley mess.

He was cute like that. Despite being so kind and caring, it was like Jungkook’s entire being stopped functioning when those types of gestures were aimed at him. So you relished those moments, looked forward to them with a fluttery feeling in your heart that couldn’t be tamed. 

Today, he throws you for a loop. Just as that proud, giddy smile appears, cheeks and ears a pretty pink, it fades away. The excitement from your mutual confessions seems to remind Jungkook of something else, something less warm, that has him quietly mumbling, “I’m sorry.” 

It’s confusing, to say the least. Just a moment prior, he had been pursing his lips in a silly attempt to hold back a smile. Now he’s staring at the ground with a rather pensive look, his apology sitting heavy in his throat. “What for?” you tentatively ask after one long beat. It had been so sudden. In your mind, there isn’t a single reason for Jungkook to be apologizing to you, especially so out of the blue. There is, however, an inkling of fear brought upon by what can only be classified as insecurity; you had just confessed your feelings for each other, why was he sorry about that? 

Jungkook exhales, a quiet sound that is nearly lost among the bustling noises of the park. If you hadn’t been sitting so close, maybe you wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I just,” he huffs, pointedly glaring at some random spot of grass beside you. His features look sharper than ever now, jawline defined, brows narrowed together. It’s a rather misplaced realization, but Jungkook looks absolutely gorgeous with distress painting his face. “I was… being selfish before.”

In the few weeks you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize Jungkook was many things. First and foremost, he’s an absolute gentleman. Raised on manners and compassion, looking after others everywhere he went. He was caring and sweet, loved this world and the people in it so much. Soft-spoken but straightforward. He was dreamy, disgustingly so. 

But selfish? It definitely sounds like something Jeon Jungkook is not. 

Before you can interrogate him even further, it seems like Jungkook is dead set on getting through this alone. “I- I’m sorry,” he repeats, eyes downcast. Noticing his wavering confidence, you resign yourself to listening, hand giving him a reassuring squeeze. Finally, after a short moment, Jungkook murmurs, “...in the car.” You tilt your head to the side curiously, waiting for him to go on. “I said, um. Something rude.” 

It takes a moment for the memory to load, and when it finally clicks into place and begins rolling, you find yourself muttering a faint, “ah.” 

If it’s what you think it is, he’s talking about last weekend outside of the church. That terribly awkward encounter that had left a sour taste in your mouth afterwards. A bad influence, you recall him saying, the memory of his voice looped in your mind the entire drive to your place. 

In all honesty, it had stung a little. While you were aware that Jungkook had an ongoing mental battle, you hadn’t realized your role was that big in it. It’s the reason you had sent him home that day, made up a lie about schoolwork just to give him some space. It’s nothing new, everyone’s had someone think badly of them before; gossipy classmates, rivals, maybe even random strangers on the street. But it felt different when it was coming from someone as sweet as Jungkook, so polite and righteous, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Like he was stating a fact, not an opinion. 

It was a slip-up on Jungkook’s end, that much you could tell. Because he had been frantic to correct himself afterwards, had looked at you with these fearful eyes, like one wrong move and you’d slip from between his hands. Luckily, you weren’t that sensitive— definitely not as sensitive as him, at least —and such a comment had been practically meaningless moments later. 

Still, in those few moments where it was meaningful (read: the short period it took for Jungkook to get home and call you, the words looping around your brain until the harsh ring of your cell phone finally interrupted), it had left you wondering. Have you been pushing him too far, asking for too much? The way you saw it, you always gave Jungkook room to object to any of your advances. You know he’s trapped in his thoughts more often than not, but you pay attention to him, you really do. You make sure to take his reactions into account, try to offer solutions where possible. But, for the briefest moment, all of those efforts had felt fruitless that day in the car. 

What you say next is not a complete lie; sure, Jungkook’s comment had hurt for a bit, but here he was now apologizing for it. That was a good sign… right? “It’s okay,” you brush off, patting his cheek softly, hoping with every fiber in your being that it really was okay.

Your voice is gentle, soothing his doubts. Just moments prior, Jungkook had felt like he was asking for too much, especially when your feelings toward him were up in the air. But your earnest confession soothed the ache in his heart. It’s all he’s wanted these past few months, to belong in your heart like you do his. 

But the guilt from before, the tumultuous feelings he’s been harboring towards you since the weekend, dampens his excitement. From your confession alone, it doesn’t seem like you questioned Jungkook. You weren’t put off by who he was, what he loved. So why couldn’t Jungkook be like you, think like you?

“I’m still sorry,” he says again, feeling like a broken record when he catches this sympathetic smile on your face. The scraps of eloquence he had gathered while originally apologizing seem to fade away, leave him a stuttering mess when he tries again. “That was— I shouldn’t have said—“

“Hey,” you cut off, placing a hand against his cheek. It stops his fidgeting, forces him to meet your gaze head on. There’s a smile on your face but something inside of Jungkook says it doesn’t feel real. “I like you, Jungkook.” 

And it’s true and genuine, your words so honest it pains him to think he had ever thought otherwise. And you’re still smiling, even after being hit with the implication that Jungkook questioned your character and maybe that’s what hurts the most. That you still try to put on an easygoing expression for him after he’s said something hurtful. It’s the car all over again, that blank look in your eyes when he had spoken carelessly. 

Before he can apologize for the umpteenth time, you’re shaking your head softly, smiling anew. But this time, he can’t tell if it’s real or not. “I brought orange juice,” you say, expertly moving the conversation along. And just as Jungkook has been thinking for weeks now, it’s like you know him so well. You know when things make him anxious or uncomfortable, know just how to help him out. 

There’s a feeling of guilt that blossoms in his chest, but this time it’s different. 

It’s not the usual sticky gross feeling of before, the one that has him staying up at night repenting for all his wrongdoings. It’s a personal kind of guilt that comes along with the frank realization that, while you have been learning and adapting to being around Jungkook, he has not been doing the same for you. 

Though you may be a little playful at times, you don’t tease him for who he is, don’t stomp all over his beliefs as much as he deluded himself into thinking you do. (That whole, faux-believer thing was a different circumstance.) Like with the cross in his house the other day. As much as Jungkook wanted to believe what you had done was evil, he had, quite honestly, enjoyed himself afterwards. There wasn’t that heavy discomfort sitting on his chest anymore, that sense of shame lingering as you’d kissed his body and let him caress yours too, in the safety of your eyes only. It was enjoyable and fun, had felt exhilarating to be so intimate with you. 

And instead of being thankful for your mindful efforts, he had questioned your sincerity. 

The picnic goes by in a flash. Jungkook is sad he can’t enjoy it to the fullest, his brain filled with clamorous thoughts that circled around to torture him every few minutes. Still, the entire date feels like a dream, vibrant and beautiful, leaving him in a daze. He doesn’t want to wake up. 

By the time you suggest wrapping up, the sun is setting over the horizon, the windows and lights of the buildings around you slowly flickering to life like a sea of tiny stars. He feels weak in the knees as he helps you pack everything back in your basket. “All set,” you smile, walking beside him, knuckles brushing against his until you fulfill Jungkook’s wordless wish and slip your hand into his. 

Jungkook agrees, hoping his hand isn’t sweaty and that you mean what you say. “I- I liked the food,” he remembers to mention, the fact that you had so carefully and lovingly prepared all this not entirely lost on him. His compliment, as simple as it may be, has you beaming at him as you exit through the park’s front gates. His car is parked along the street, the sleek vehicle coming into view as you round the street corner, hands still fastened. “Um,” he mumbles, pausing beside it. You turn to face him, eyes clear and content. 

All good things come to an end, he supposes, reluctantly letting go of your hand when you tug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” you say, stepping up close, chest pressed against his. His breath hitched in his throat, eyes going wide when you nuzzle against his neck. Your hands slip around his waist. They wrap around him perfectly, make Jungkook feel like he was made for you. 

By the time he’s springing into action, jerkily raising his free hand up to your back, you’re stepping away. “Call me when you get home,” you wink, sending shivers down his spine when he remembers what happened the last time you said that. 

But Jungkook doesn’t think he can wait that long. 

You’re slipping further and further away, fingertips just barely brushing against his forearm, when Jungkook jolts into action. “How are you, um—“ he stammers, feels too big for his shoes when you tilt your head curiously. And then, “d- do you need a ride?” he mumbles, cheeks warm. 

It’s a feeble attempt at asking what he really wants. Offering you a ride home, while not a bad idea considering it was late and you had taken the bus here, is nowhere near what Jungkook really wants. What he wants is standing before him, thin spaghetti strap slipping down their shoulder, eyes sensually half-lidded and you know this too— because, again, you know Jungkook so well, know what he wants even if he can’t say it —as you step into his bubble again, peer up at him with your arms held behind your back. 

“A ride home?” you ask, blinking your long lashes in a way that robs him of his breath. And he can see that switch flick on inside of you, watches that pure and innocent gleam in your eyes slowly become replaced with something mischievous. Jungkook nods dumbly. “I’d love that.”

Jungkook blinks. “Great,” he chokes out, neatly dropping the wicker basket in his hands. In a way, it brings him back down to reality, lets him snap away from your hypnotizing gaze as he reaches for the keys in his pocket. “Let me— I just have to— yeah,” he stammers, clicking the button on his car keys one too many times, has it perkily beeping. Your lips press together into an amused smile, the last thing Jungkook sees before ripping himself away from you and yanking the back door open. 

He nearly throws the basket in like a madman, glassware be damned. It’s his last shred of rationality that tells him not to, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as he steps up to the edge of the sidewalk and carefully places it on the floor behind the passenger’s seat. 

When Jungkook rises back up, there is a hand that brushes against his forearm, a gentle touch that has him throwing a curious glance your way. He’s not expecting to be so entranced by the dreamy look in your eyes, feet glued to the ground as you trail your hand down, catching his wrist between your fingers. You’re standing so close, making Jungkook feel like he’s trapped between you and his own car. His entire body is on edge when you lean in, placing a soft kiss against the very corner of his mouth. It leaves a tingling sensation, and accompanied with the growing warmth beneath his skin, feels like he’s been burned. “I had fun,” you murmur, voice low. It sends a shock of electricity down his spine, a wave of exhilaration that has him fully turning to face you as you eventually step away, that same playful grin on your features again. 

A surge of confidence and greed overcomes him, has him stepping forward into your space despite the nervousness that builds within him. There’s a hint of surprise in your eyes that you quickly mask, placating his bumbling nerves with a delicate hand placed over his heart. He can’t breathe when you lean in, softly humming, “kiss me?” 

Jungkook’s lower lip wobbles. “O- Okay,” he concedes, voice but an airy whisper that is soon swallowed up. You taste like fruit and orange juice, remnants of your picnic clinging to your lips as you slowly consume Jungkook’s entire attention with this soft brush alone. It’s a rather short affair, one that ends all too soon when you pull away with a soft sigh against his lips. 

Your smile is so pretty when you angle it at him, has him taking one jerky step backwards. His back hits the car, feels trapped. But he isn’t scared, doesn’t find himself anxiously awaiting your next move. “Good boy,” you purr, reaching one graceful hand forward, playfully tugging at his tie, wrapping it around your knuckles as you use it as leverage to pull him close again. 

You’re just so pretty, Jungkook has always thought so. From the moment he first met you until now, there is something about you—a glint in your eyes, a quirk to your lips—that has had him under your spell for weeks now. 

Had Jungkook seriously despised you and your ethics, perhaps this feeling would have gone away. But the fact of the matter is that you make Jungkook’s heart hammer dangerously in his chest, a shot of adrenaline through his veins when you look at him with those low-lidded eyes, touch him with those experienced hands. He wants you so bad, even after all he’s learned, all he’s seen. He wants you over him and under him, pressed against him from head to toe. He wants and he wants, and he knows it’s bad to want so much, to be so greedy. But with you around, Jungkook finds himself giving into that greed, clutching at it like a lifeline. “We can, um—,” he stammers, placing one uncertain hand against the top of the door frame beside him. You raise your brows, egging him on yet patiently waiting all at once. 

Your gaze is so strong, and it’s in moments like these that Jungkook feels that feeling crawl up his throat. A serpentine gaze, a sticky sweet tongue. Everything he’s ever known says it’s wrong, but his heart and your confession says otherwise. He looks away, throws a bashful glance at the plush leather seats behind him. “In… inside?”  

And the offer has you positively beaming before him, that same flirtatious shimmer in your irises doubling at the words that roll off his tongue. “Oh my,” you swoon playfully, stepping back to, Jungkook assumes, allow him to get in. 

He plops down, feels like he would break out in a sweat if the evening temperature wasn’t so cool. The car’s interior blends into the shadows, his clothing practically indiscernible against the dark shade of the seats. A stark contrast to the pretty floral dress that suddenly spills itself over his lap when you climb in, the door tugged shut beside the two of you. All is silent, your thighs over his, hands on his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” you murmur, lips pulled into a smirk, provocative yet playful, like you know something that Jungkook doesn’t. 

Jungkook’s throat feels dry but he still manages to gulp. He’s drowning in your perfume and your body lotion, in the faint smell of the outdoors clinging to your clothes and your hair, the absolutely heavenly scent of just you in your entirety. “Hi,” he whispers back, voice lost beneath the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. And his quiet greeting is rewarded with two soft hands that crawl up his neck, cupping his face in their palms. 

“You were so sweet today,” you purr, nose nudging against his when you finally lean in, pressing your breasts against Jungkook. A tiny gasp catches in his throat, his hands instinctively going to your waist. “Can I kiss you again?” 

Jungkook has never wanted anything more. “Please,” he exhales, feeling like he’ll explode if you don’t kiss him soon. You take his request in stride, jut your face forward just the slightest bit until your mouth is pressed firmly against his, the movement of your lips a practiced rhythm that he just can’t seem to master. He still tries his best, puckers his lips when he feels it’s right, tilts his head when you urge him with a soft nudge. He tries his best and hopes it’s enough. 

By now, Jungkook has come to understand that there is a pattern to your kisses. You always start off slow and relaxed, mouth languidly moving against his as you lure him across a tightrope of anticipation. They gradually become more intense, pulling out whimpers and sighs from Jungkook that he had never known were possible. It’s a carefully crafted art form, the tongue that slides out from between your pillowy lips, dips into his own mouth with a giggly pant. “Good boy,” you hum in between, hands burying themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Always so good.”

Jungkook shudders when you eventually part, can’t catch his breath fast enough before you’re reaching for the buttons on the front of his shirt, easily undoing the casual tie too. “Relax,” you tell him, bypassing his lips for the warm expanse of skin just below. You kiss over his chin, down his neck, as your hands crawl beneath his shirt and around his naked waist. 

He’s ticklish, and when you brush against his ribs, he unwillingly releases a sharp huff of laughter. It’s followed by a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, cheeks a warm hue when you lean back in surprise at this new bit of information. “I— sorry,” he blurts out, because he doesn’t know proper make-out etiquette, doesn’t know anything really, except what you’ve shown him. 

But the sound makes you snort, looking at him with this gaze that drips with honey. “So cute,” you tell him, placing a chaste kiss against his lips, before disappearing back down to lavish his throat with filthier kisses. And with you laving your tongue across his skin, biting at every inch available, Jungkook is left to fuzzily stare over the crystal clear windshield. He’s struck with the faint realization that if someone were to look hard enough, they would see him through the tinted glass as he fell apart into the hands of a pretty girl. 

The soft smack of your lips against his skin is sensual, makes every hair on his body stand stiff. Your lips trail down the column of his neck, placing a bruising kiss at the juncture where it meets the rest of his body. “Oh,” he sighs, eyelids fluttering when a hand squeezes at his chest, thumb against his nipple. 

Another muffled giggle pressed against the base of his neck, and when Jungkook focuses his eyes again, he catches his own gaze in the rearview mirror. 

The sight of him is… weird to say the least. 

Even in the dark, his lips look thoroughly debauched, puffier and redder than usual, slick with saliva that isn’t entirely his. He doesn’t tell himself to, but his mirrored counterpart peeks his tongue out, runs it along his top lip sinfully. Startled by his own appearance, Jungkook jolts in place, feeling you shift in his lap with a soft little whine. “Bunny,” you frown, and Jungkook watches your side profile in the tiny mirror as you sit back up, press your lips against his ear. “Sit still for me,” you tell him, hand slithering up his chest, around his throat. Over his Adam’s apple, squeezing just the slightest. It’s not tight, but it knocks the air out of his lungs when he sees the action mirrored back at him on the reflective surface. 

That familiar guilt sticks in his throat, evident when your hand slips away and he swallows harshly, the protrusion just beneath his skin bobbing up and down. 

In the back of Jungkook’s mind, he can recall the religious story that surrounded this bodily feature; a sin and the consequence. A garden and a fruit, a beautiful woman by his side. 

Your hand creeps down between your bodies, palming over his quickly fattening cock, and Jungkook swears he sees stars, a strained whimper escaping from his lips that you giggle at. “Oh my,” he huffs, clutching at the skirt of your dress. You nuzzle close again, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his neck. 

Your hands are so soft and sweet, brushing over his cock like you’re simply caressing him out of adoration and not because you want him to cum, staining his seats and your dress. Either way, Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine what you must be thinking; before the date and his confession, he had been afraid that you would discard him. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t what you wanted, maybe he wasn’t what you needed. You were so confident in yourself and your actions, a stark contrast to Jungkook and his constant uncertainty, his fear of doing the wrong thing plaguing him at all hours of the day. 

Even now, with your hands expertly tugging his zipper down, he finds himself going back to that story. That apple in the garden, the consequences it had hailed. Never mind the fact you’re on top of him, claiming to like him, with your hands touching every inch of his skin. He keeps looping back to that Biblical verse instead, thinks about it when your fingers meanly let the elastic band of his briefs snap against his skin. “Ouch,” he flinches, voice a soft whine. He turns too quickly and too suddenly, nose bumping against yours because you’re still so close. 

You smile, puckering your lips for the lightest of kisses. It’s the little things like that that make Jungkook’s entire thought process stall, distantly aware of the fact that it’s, like always, you leading the majority of your encounters once again. Even during your picnic, it had been you who had practically held his hand as you navigated through basic information, asked for his favorite color and his favorite drink. Had it not been for your own proactive tendencies, Jungkook fears he would have never known your favorite color was pink or your favorite day of the week was Thursday. 

It’s a fact that makes him pause, jaw tightening as he once again realizes how little effort he was putting into knowing you. For someone who claimed to like you a lot, he rarely did the work to prove it. Even now, he’s too unsure of who he is and who you are to indulge you properly, instead watching you lead the scene as usual. Before he can stop himself, a sigh is escaping his lips. 

It must convey his emotions perfectly, because it’s enough to make your wandering hands pause by his waist. “Everything okay?” you ask, always knowing what he’s feeling. And it sucks that he couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“N— Yes,” he rushes to say, looking up at you with round eyes, the moonlight painting half of your face a paler color than usual, the other side shrouded in darkness. It makes your eyes look darker, makes Jungkook gulp loudly when you turn those inquisitive eyes on him. 

His answer doesn’t seem to convince you, and it’s with little to no hesitation that you sit back. It puts a distance between the two of you that Jungkook can’t say he’s a fan of. “Jungkook,” you say, voice stern yet warm, one hand reaching up to brush your knuckles against his cheek. “Tell me what’s bothering you?” 

It makes Jungkook nervous. He knows he thinks too much. Part of him fears that oversharing with you will drive you away, put you even farther than you are now. Maybe next time it’ll be a room’s length away, a football field’s length away. And he doesn’t want that; he wants to hold you close, he really does. But there are traditions he carries and beliefs he holds dearly that make it hard for him to do so, as much as it pains him. 

The only reason he knows he’s frowning is because you press your pointer finger against the corner of his mouth. You lean in close, nose bumping against his. It sends your scent billowing over him, makes him dizzy when he becomes aware of the hand he’s got on your bare thigh, the rumpled skirt of your dress pushed away. “Talk to me, bunny,” you murmur. You don’t make a move to kiss him, a fact that Jungkook feels both grateful and disheartened by. “Please?”

And he can’t deny you, not when you ask so nicely. You have this metaphorical grip on Jungkook, a tight hold around his throat that has made him act impulsively these past few weeks, desperate to be with you, to please you. Even now, despite how much he wants to withhold his thoughts, he finds himself quietly admitting them instead. “I want to know you,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eye. You don’t push him to. “I really, um. I like you, __. A lot.” It’s a repetition of his earlier confession. And still, it makes him nervous. A thumb brushes against his cheekbone, encouraging him to meet your solemn gaze even if it means being a blushing mess afterwards. “Before we, uh, do… things.” 

His words may be choppy and incoherent, but you understand him all the same. “You want to go out some more,” you clarify, removing your hand from his cheek. The phantom trail of your fingertips on his skin remains, feels colder when you lean away to allow him some more space. 

Jungkook nods quickly, hoping this rush of adrenaline might help him through this. He bites down on his lower lip, carefully analyzing your expression for any signs of disbelief or disgust. But all he sees is understanding, a cool expression that makes Jungkook’s heart thunder. “I…,” he says, glancing down at where he’s still got his hand on your naked skin. Something inside of him tells him to rub his thumb across it, an action he doesn’t think through until he hears a sharp inhale, watches goosebumps rise over the skin. “I’m sorry,” he rushes out, snatching his hand away before he can do something else of a similar sort. “I- I just—“ said hand now waves around wildly beside him “—I really like you, as a, um— uh. A person. And I—“ and this is where he becomes aware of his unbuttoned shirt and the way you’ve got your pretty pussy pressed against his thigh now “—I, um. I want to know me— I mean, you —better? More? Like—“

His embarrassing babbling is cut off with a gentle kiss to his lips. No tongue, no saliva. Just soft lips against his, a delicate hand against his shoulders. When you pull away, Jungkook unconsciously trails after the touch, eyes half-lidded and in a daze when you place a palm on his chest. “I got it,” you say, lips quirking into a tiny smile. “I want to know more about you too, bunny,” you admit, reaching for the front of his shirt. He watches on with flushed cheeks as you slowly button it up for him, finishing it off with a playful tap against the underside of his chin. 

You glance out of the window thoughtfully. Jungkook is suddenly reminded of how pretty you are, your skin practically glimmering under the pale moonlight. It catches on your necklace, a thin chain with a cross on the end. If he focuses his eyes behind you, his own reflection stares back once more. Jungkook’s entire body threatens to lock up tightly, but a single kiss on the cheek from you interrupts the process. “Do you wanna date?” you ask, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

Jungkook can’t agree fast enough. “I— yes,” he gasps, leaning forward too suddenly. It makes you flinch back in surprise, back pressing up against the driver’s seat behind you in surprise. You wouldn’t have fallen or anything, but Jungkook reacts like it was a serious possibility anyway, grasping at your waist and pulling you snug against him, soft thighs sandwiching his tiny waist. “Oh, God,” he frets, immediately moving to release you. 

But you catch him with two arms thrown around his neck, pulling Jungkook close to you for another kiss. Deeper and… meaningful, your satiny lips carefully slotted against his. While it surprises him at first, Jungkook finds himself melting into it soon enough. This was okay, he tells himself, and for the first time in a few weeks, he finds himself believing it. 

It was just kissing— intimate yet appropriate kissing —between two people who were seeing each other. Him, properly seeing you. His heart threatens to burst out of its cage for a second. It’s the first time since he’s met you that he can fully say he hadn’t felt nervous about his actions, hadn’t felt like he was committing some grave sin for chasing after your touch. It was just a kiss, simple and sweet, making both of you smile bashfully when you eventually pull away. There was no lying and no guilt, no tears and no stress. 

It felt good.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[hansolmates]

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k  a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits​ / @chillingtae​​ for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.” 

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.” 

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband. 

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend. 

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes. 

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?” 

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers. 

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.” 

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds. 

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy.  It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons. 

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?” 

“As if you care.” 

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.” 

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan. 

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.” 

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night. 

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.” 

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.” 

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid. 

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.” 

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.” 

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.” 

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?” 

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.” 

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop. 

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?” 

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?” 

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.” 

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.” 

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says. 

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.” 

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.” 

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table. 

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!” 

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.” 

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?” 

“Don’t ask questions.” 

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.” 

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?” 

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders. 

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility. 

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow. 

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted. 

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon? 

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through. 

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date. 

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist. 

“How was the walk over?” 

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.” 

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours. 

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is. 

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill. 

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?” 

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat. 

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?” 

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.” 

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?” 

“It… was mildly cute.” 

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.” 

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning. 

“Is that why you never hung out with us?” 

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.” 

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.” 

“And why is that?” 

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.” 

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?” 

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon. 

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth. 

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.” 

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.” 

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass. 

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.” 

Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple. 

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place. 

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?” 

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says. 

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.” 

“I do like Valorant.” 

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.” 

“He’s ripped as hell.” 

“I am ripped as hell.” 

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.” 

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry." 

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.” 

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.” 

“Okay yes one bad example—” 

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.” 

“See? It’s a mutual decision.” 

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!" 

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now." 

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.” 

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair. 

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.” 

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace. 

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish. 

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!” 

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.” 

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!” 

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.” 

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?” 

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.” 

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.” 

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.” 

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin. 

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her. 

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.” 

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.” 

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something. 

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?” 

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head. 

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—” 

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.” 

“Right,” you answer reluctantly. 

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.” 

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.” 

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.” 

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.” 

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks. 

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?” 

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store. 

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.” 

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?” 

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.” 

“But, Namjoon got us a table—” 

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.” 

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.” 

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.” 

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.” 

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes. 

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard. 

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork. 

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips. 

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.” 

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket. 

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?” 

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream. 

“Pray tell.” 

“She’s jealous of you.” 

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.” 

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.” 

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.” 

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.” 

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.” 

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?” 

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—” 

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that? 

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it. 

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon. 

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words,  “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.” 

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside. 

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.” 

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist. 

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place. 

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly. 

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.” 

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around. 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” 

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!” 

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it. 

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?” 

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger. 

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.” 

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.” 

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same. 

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent. 

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you. 

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton. 

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.” 

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.” 

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then? 

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?” 

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.” 

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.” 

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.” 

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks. 

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?” 

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick. 

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.” 

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.” 

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.” 

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.” 

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.” 

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink. 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.” 

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.” 

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini. 

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area. 

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place. 

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.” 

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side. 

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.” 

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.” 

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.” 

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on. 

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one. 

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy. 

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.” 

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for. 

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.” 

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified. 

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?” 

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?” 

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating. 

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week. 

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes. 

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double. 

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?” 

“But this is different!” 

“But Doyeon’s family!” 

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party. 

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.” 

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.” 

“Deal.” 

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body. 

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.” 

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.” 

“Excuse me—” 

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.” 

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?” 

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.” 

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.” 

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive? 

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.” 

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features. 

“Is it something urgent?” 

“Well, no but—” 

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.” 

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline. 

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest. 

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.” 

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting. 

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food. 

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?” 

He shrugs, “Looked around.” 

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this. 

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time. 

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products. 

“I wanna come!” 

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.” 

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?” 

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.” 

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.” 

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom. 

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design. 

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too. 

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height. 

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel. 

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean. 

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.” 

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in. 

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.” 

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.” 

“Then more kisses?” 

“Then more kisses.” 

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!” 

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college… 

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u 

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious 

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two. 

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button. 

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.” 

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”  

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u 

You: lool, why do u look constipated 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile 

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest. 

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge. 

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.” 

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind. 

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin. 

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.” 

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator. 

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet. 

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.” 

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?” 

“Because it’s tradition!” 

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?” 

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.” 

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down. 

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite. 

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure. 

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down. 

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better. 

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!” 

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship? 

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle. 

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you. 

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?” 

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family. 

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different. 

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.  

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together. 

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room. 

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes. 

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?” 

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!” 

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?” 

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods. 

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor. 

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down. 

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?” 

 “Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway. 

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy. 

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process. 

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!” 

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons. 

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice. 

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.” 

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you. 

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.” 

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words. 

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.” 

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double. 

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon. 

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you? 

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist. 

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.” 

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.” 

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?” 

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook. 

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.” 

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips. 

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.” 

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.” 

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.” 

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face. 

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands,  “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.” 

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you. 

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.” 

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs. 

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.” 

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt,  a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash. 

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—” 

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?” 

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back! 

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you. 

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment. 

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips. 

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer. 

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.” 

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.” 

“Thanks, Jungkookie.” 

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible. 

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket. 

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown. 

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her. 

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.” 

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?” 

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?” 

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her. 

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.” 

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something. 

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago. 

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful. 

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning. 

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone. 

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week. 

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged. 

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine. 

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready. 

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?” 

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?” 

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.” 

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings. 

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name. 

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent 

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.  

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain. 

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.” 

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—” 

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?” 

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding. 

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.” 

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.” 

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!” 

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?” 

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.” 

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.” 

“You’ll have to get through me, first.” 

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress. 

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.” 

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.” 

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin. 

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.” 

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.” 

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground. 

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”  

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision. 

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel. 

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.” 

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.” 

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t.  Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”  

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle. 

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?” 

���Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?” 

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now. 

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.” 

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations. 

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie. 

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon. 

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family. 

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online. 

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend. 

Or? 

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs? 

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter. 

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.” 

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.” 

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric. 

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon. 

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself. 

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…” 

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.” 

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.” 

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.” 

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.” 

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips. 

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline. 

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.” 

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair. 

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.” 

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.  

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?” 

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs. 

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.” 

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now. 

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.” 

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.” 

[bunchofstraydogs]

Dazai Osamu in a relationship

Just a lil warning before you proceed: dis a chonky one, kay?

○

Depending on why Dazai is in a relationship affects how he will act with his partner.

If Dazai is curious about them, enough to enter the relationship,

it will last at best a handful of months, at worst about 2 weeks. Enough to get to know them, test them out in terms of reaction, values, honesty and morality, and get bored of them. Thus leading to him braking up with the person or, if he predicts that the person would react badly and cause a scene, get them to break up with him. But even that is dubious because i doubt Dazai would make the relationship official. He would probably just act as if they're dating, leading the partner to believe they actually are without having to verbally confirm anything, and then as soon as he loses interest, pulls a now-you-see-me-now-you-don't and disappears with little to no notice. Hey, he never said they were dating, he calls everyone Belladona, the fault is that person's for being delusional. Yes, he is an asshole, what did you expect of Dazai?

But if Dazai is in love?? Unrecognizable.

I will make a separate headcanon(? whatever these are I'm writing) on what i think a person should be like to sweep Dazai of his feet, but now i want to concentrate on what he would be like in such a relationship.

Is it possible for Dazai to fall in love? Absolutely. He loved Odasaku and Ango, perhaps not romantically, but he's definitely capable of love. People like him- aware of the world's cruelty, dealing with demons and guilt, roaming the world for the sole reason that they haven't died yet, hoping to find something worthwhile they can feel the need to be selfish about and call theirs; don't fall in love, they crash desperately. It takes a lot for them to feel those emotions, but when they do, they can never really let them go.

He would try to act as he usually does in public and try approaching the subject of his trepidation and disarray in many different ways. Distancing himself and going as far to actively avoid them would just come back and bite him in his boney ass. To effectively avoid someone, you need to know their schedule, hobbies, interests, habits, etc. And having learned that would just constantly remind him of them, they'd never leave his mind. He'd look on the clock, see the time and know that they'll be in that specific class because he knows their whole curriculum and class schedule/ at the grocery because they're surly out of their favourite snack/ doing black laundry and yes, he knows unnecessary details about them as well. After that disastrous failure, he comes back running and commences new ways to handle that person. These beta testings are for him as much as they are for them. Just how much and what exactly does he feel for that person, what buttons can he push and which ones he doesn't want to.

When i say Dazai in love would be unrecognizable, i mean it. Not superficially, where everyone can see it, but where it matters.

After doing his best to rail in the unfamiliar feelings under control, going as far as using some of Mori's techniques, the realization of the situation he's found himself in hits him hard.

He comes back as if nothing happened.

The deadpan that person gives him and a "Are you done with your bullshit or do you need some more time to brood about issues you made with yourself?" He doesn't even blink, "Oh, my Belladona! Does that mean you've missed me? Were you worried about me as well??"

All of this was said in your typical, Dazai maniac style, the only difference is that he actually wants an answer. He wants to hear the confirmation, in whatever form it may come- he can read between the lines and body language, just give him something to work with. He's desperate.

While the public Dazai persona won't change, his inner musings and his approach to the love interest will.

Osamu will, sometimes sneakily, usually not so subtly, immerse himself into their daily life. Get them accustomed and used to his presence. What this will do is cause a sense of familiar coexistence, that of people living together; make the person unconsciously continue to include him in their activities; learn to depend on him (not in a unhealthy, yandere way, but if their car brakes down or they're feelinh unsafe, Dazai will be the first person they feel the urge to call) because Dazai can be reliable and he will be reliable for that special person. He will also be the first person they share good news with as well, because if someone is always there for and with you, it's only natural.

Make no mistakes, Dazai is transparent only when he wants to be.

The reasons he does this is because 1) he wants to gauge their reaction to his great interest in them, 2) mask his subtle advances which are the most important part of integrating himself into their life, 3) to get that person in the position where he needs them to be for him to move on to the next phase of his plan.

Now, i may have said plan, but that's a somewhat loose term since what he'll do next depends on their reaction. He definitely has a rough outline of the whole thing in his head, but he's also adaptable and ready to react accordingly to whatever they may throw his way.

[I will be using l/i or LI for "love interest" bc I'm tired of writing that person or whatever, okay? Good.]

Once his l/i made effort to go out of their way for him or commit any type of love language, basically:

act of service- pay for his bills, massage his shoulders, buy crab based food or alchohol he really likes for their own fridge so that he can have it when he's over (often) even if they don't like those things especially then

words of affirmation- thank you Dazai, how was your sleep?, please take better care of yourself i can't help you if you're not making an effort

physical touch- ruffle his hair, lean on him when tired, hold his hand or wrist because it's crowded and it would be a pain to search for you Dazai

gift giving- "I noticed you were running out of bandages", "I bought you food, figured your lost case would forget to eat", "saw this mackerel, reminded me of you^^" "BELLADONA, NO >:("

quality time- spending nights with him because he has insomnia, playing games at the arcade, drive around town run from the cops

He would be overwhelmed. In the best way possible. He'd feel overwhelmingly good and pleasant and warm and worried.

He didn't feel like this, ever.

Not even with Odasaku and Ango. They were probably his first friends, but that's the thing. They didn't make his heart race, they didn't throw him into panic attacks, they didn't overwhelm him, they didn't keep him up at night because he couldn't get them out of his head or completely monopolise his mind during the day.

He gets panic attacks.

A lot of them, actually. Usually he can fake being fine, but sometimes he hyperventilates and can't breathe and all that he can smell is the blood on his hands and his chest is as hollow as l/i's eyes. He knows what can happen. They can and will be used against him. Hell, it could even be an accident. He is vulnerable just because they exist and he can't do shit about it.

He could do his thing: pull some strings, have them move to another country and never speak to each other ever again. He has the power, but he lacks the strength. He could do it, but he doesn't want to. His thumb won't press the numbers, his voice died out, his mind went blank.

The wind blows and it carries their scent with it. The bells ring and it's their laughter that resonates within. His bandages ruffle and it's the warmth of their touch he feels. He's dying, but he's not just ready yet to leave. Hopefully, Odasaku will patiently keep a seat for him.

That was what gave him away, actually.

That's when Ranpo realised, with zero doubt, that Dazai Osamu is in love.

Dazai could be going on and on about suicide.

Enter l/i.

"I found an amazing tree yesterday with really sturdy branches. I wanted to test them out today, but i promised l/i I'd go to the new bakery with them today and who would they go with if i die?? Unacceptable!"

Ranpo: "A new bakery? I'll happily take your place."

"UNACCEPTABLE!!"

With every panic attack he feels stranded on an island in the sea of death.

He's exhausted. For the first time he finally wants to escape alive. Then they walk in and the storm in the sea moves to his heart. And into his stomach and his hands and his knees.

"I'm here for you, Osamu. Everything is going to be fine."

His insomnia goes by a different name now.

It still keeps him up at night and makes him restless.

But this time, when he fills his nth glass of whiskey for the night, when the TV is muted and the trafic quiet, when he can hear their breathing beside him in their shared bed, he raises the glass to hope for the halcyon days.

●

Fucking finally. You think you're exhausted, you waste of bandages?? I have a final today I'm going to fail and actually wrote about your musky ass. You try doing that with my brain.

Hope you guys like it and if you made it this far, here's a cup of ☕ or 🍵, whichever you prefer. I wrote him as i see and envision him. Hope it all makes sense. He's a complicated character, but he is still human and he is not immune to emotions.

Have a good one~☆

I will probably come up with more things for him, because i doubt i covered everything, but for now this shall do.

[btsmosphere]

Crossing Paths - drabble from the Crossfire universe

request from @excusemyuwus -

I remember Tae said he had a crush on her while working on that project so now I kinda want to see his pov of that time and how he was holding being around his crush lol, not gonna lie gangster Tae all nervous bc he like someone is something want to see (also imagine how much the guys would tease him uwu)

tumblr ate your ask when I tried to answer it, sorry! this is the only part I had copied, but if it ever resurfaces, I shall answer there. for now it is still refusing to cooperate so I am posting like this! (update: the ask just returned, it is here)

~pairing: taehyung x reader ~word count: 1.4k ~pre-relationship, fluff, angst, slice of life, mafia au, college au ~rating: g ~warnings: vague mention of gang activity, this is a gang au after all, but it’s not particularly prominent

~a/n: thank you for your great request! this was so nice to come back to, I am so sentimental about this series as my first bts fic🥰takes me back to when I was just getting into bts… it felt hard to do it justice! because of this, sorry it took me a while to write, but I wanted to do it well, and again I kept the theme of making my ‘drabbles’ wayyy longer😅final big thanks to the site being frustrating and eating drafts and such🙃🙃but here it is, finally seeing the light of day! I hope you enjoy it x

“I can tell something’s on your mind, Tae.”

Jimin stared coolly at his friend. Looking over his shoulder guiltily as he unlocked the door, Tae found the other boy with his hands in his pockets, looking expectant.

All Tae could do was shrug as he elbowed the door open, heading to ditch his bag.

“Hey, Jimin’s right.”

A light flick on Tae’s forehead made him startle, looking up to find Hobi grinning, though his head was tilted to one side in question.

“What is it?”

Jimin’s shoulder nudged his own as they sunk into the sofa.

Tae checked his phone.

“It’s just a project for class, don’t worry about it,” he pocketed his phone, ignoring their gazes, “I gotta meet with my partner in an hour.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t staying that long anyway,” Hobi slumped down too, having helped himself to a drink from the fridge, “I’m on watch with Yoongi across town.”

As the discussion turned to this week’s jobs and deals, Taehyung rested his head back against the sofa. The sounds of his friends’ conversation was like static. Instead, he was picturing the scene in class earlier, as the slideshow was flipped to show the project partners on the screen.

Tae hadn’t been too fussed, idly playing with his pen lid as he searched for his name. But when his eyes fell on it, he sat up straight.

Having only bumped into you a few times in class, he had never expected his heart to be hammering quite so hard as he quickly scanned the room for you. Sliding his things away, he had walked towards you as everyone began to file out, meeting you halfway as you did the same.

Leaning against a desk to keep his jittery hands occupied, he grinned at you.

Your returning smile, he noticed, was much more nervous, only flickering into existence for a wavering second. The two of you had only a brief conversation to sort out when you would meet, before you had practically scurried away.

His eyes had lingered on you as his smile slowly sank.

Unconsciously poking his tongue against his cheek, Tae wondered if you were afraid of him.

“Hey!”

A finger clicked sharply in front of his face. He blinked back at Hobi’s grin, Jimin bursting into laughter at his side.

“Just a project, my ass,” Hobi shook his head, dumping an empty bottle on the coffee table, “don’t wanna be late, do you?”

A radiant smile was tossed over his shoulder as Hobi left the room, front door clicking soon after.

Sending his best friend a knowing look, Jimin also gathered himself to stand.

“Have fun tonight, yeah?”

He winked. Tae protested, shooting up from the sofa with an affronted look.

“So it is a special someone?” Jimin giggled.

“You’re impossible,” Tae grumbled, trailing after him to the door, “it’s just a project, I told you.”

Jimin hummed in a way which made it very clear he didn’t believe him.

“Don’t scare them off, tiger,” he remarked, stepping outside.

Tae’s shoulders slumped. He was certain that was just what he had already done.

“I’m busy tonight. And my house isn’t free, so I can’t have anyone showing up here.”

Namjoon chuckled across the line.

“All this for a college project?” Clearly he had heard about this from the others. “If you could lend Kook some of your commitment to school, that would be great,” he teased.

Sighing, Tae spun around to survey the road outside his window, ruffling his own hair.

“You’re very funny, but I need to go. See you tomorrow.”

Tae was certain he would never hear the end of this from the others. It was true that he had firmly set aside time for your meeting today, even if it was only for a minor college presentation. But it was important to him.

He knew that this was the only time he would get together with you, and though it would end as soon as the presentation was given, he couldn’t help but want to make the most of it. At your last meeting, he had been largely distracted by the dizzying height of your apartment, leaving him shying back from any windows.

So this left you with his house today instead.

Arriving soon after Tae’s phone call, you were both soon seated on his floor. Though you mostly worked in quiet with occasional, quick conversation, it was not awkward. Your legs lay close together under the coffee table as you scribbled away diligently on its surface.

Glancing over the lid of his laptop as his fingers hung idly, Tae sighed. Watching as your pen swirled across your notebook, he let his eyes drift across your focussed features.

He swallowed as he did so, teeth tugging his lip. A light frown came over your features. He couldn’t take his eyes away from your lips as your pen lifted to your mouth, resting between your teeth as you mulled the work over, eyes flitting about the page.

Eventually, the lack of tapping at his keyboard must have got through to you. You raised your head.

Too late to divert his gaze, Taehyung cleared his throat and muttered a proposal for a break. Eager as well to put your work aside, you clambered from the floor to join him at his offer of a drink.

Moving through to the kitchen, he made casual conversation, asking after your dad. Last time there had only been a brief meeting, as he met Tae at the door before you hurried him away.

Picking up on his offer to chat, you teased Tae for his fear of heights, giggling over how he had screwed his eyes shut whenever he had come within sight of the view from your windows.

Of course, Tae tried his best to roll his eyes at you, but the smile dragging the corners of his mouth refused to be suppressed.

He poured your drinks. When he turned away to put the cartons back in the fridge, he took a breath, trying to settle himself. Why did he feel so flustered?

Squaring his shoulders a little more, he turned back, only for his hand to catch one of the glasses. It clattered against the surface, barely leaving time for him to jump back and avoid being splattered with its contents.

You hopped from your seat, ready to help.

Swallowing down his shock, Tae scratched at the back of his neck to hide his slightly trembling hand.

“Don’t worry,” he quickly muttered, flashing a nervous smile as he gathered towels and set to cleaning up.

Soft laughter followed from you. Still, you reached across to help.

Righting the glass and taking one of the cloths to clear up, your hand came concerningly close to Tae’s own. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the countertop, his cheeks warm even as you finished and he was rooting in the fridge again for a refill.

You seemed miraculously unfazed by his flailing, though, he noticed as you finally settled beside each other sipping your drinks.

“So it went well?”

Jimin nudged a reluctant Tae, eyebrows wiggling all the time.

“Yes, fine,” Tae groaned, trying to shrug him off.

Jimin did stop, but only in favour of staring at his friend with doleful eyes.

“Don’t be like that. You’ll see her again. You literally share a class!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tae refuted.

He even halfway believed it.

You had got on well together, but surely not more than could be expected of most classmates? He sighed a little as he thought of it. It had been fun, but there was no excuse to spend any more time with you.

Besides, sparing one night to work on a project was a little different to becoming friends, or even more…

There was a reason the bangtan boys stuck to themselves.

But as he reminisced, he knew he had a soft spot for you, even if it should come to nothing. The project was over, the presentation given, but he still remembered the way you bounced with excited relief after you had finished talking to the class. Your face was glowing as you high-fived him with a grin, the work having paid off.

There was still a hint of nervousness though, and you had only given a timid smile and a small ‘see you later’ before heading out of class.

And that was the end of it.

But Tae smiled to himself. It had been fun, and he knew he wouldn’t be sorry if you ever crossed paths again.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments super appreciated always!!

Taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @un2-verse​ @ddaechwita​ @taegularities​ 

[peaches-writes]

penalty kick

description: maybe you got off on the wrong foot...actually, jisung did actually pushed you off the wrong foot.  member: jisung / han  genre: fluff, slice of life, coming of age, childhood frenemies / rivals to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, neighbor au, high school au, college au, lil dashes of soccer baseball musician & campus dj au bc jisung ace, female reader, off-season universe (mc from naturally is jeoyeon, mc from tumbles & turns is bora, and mc from off-season is kira hek)  word count: 12k warnings: explicit language, alcohol (a tiny mention of underage drinking pls drink responsibly!), mentions of injuries, jisung issa lil dumb & a lil shit but issokay hes an adorable lil shit note: @crscendoforsung so i scraped the witch jisung au (but i’ll come back to it in the future maybe it’s still in my drafts lol) so here is dumbass jisung for now + im away on christmas day so here’s my gift a day in advanced lmao

Age four. Your neighbor and favorite playmate, Han Jisung, pushed you so hard on the swings at your neighbourhood playground that you literally flew out of your plastic curved seat and bruised your knees, elbows, and chin. 

Maybe you did had it coming from continuously complaining that he ‘pushed like a sissy’ and even standing up on the swing set just to brag that you can balance all of your body weight on such flimsy material. Maybe your neighbor has always had a secret grudge on you finally enacted through this incident. Either way, the next thing you knew, a wide-eyed Jisung was on your side alternating between calling for adult help, crying over your bruises, and muttering curses he probably heard from his older brother under his breath. 

“Shit, shit shit...” He squeaked out frantically in his tiny voice, gently moving you to a sitting position on the stone pavement and dusting the dirt off of your bleeding injuries despite your loud complaints that your entire body was hurting. Looking around your surroundings, his breath then got caught up in his throat at seeing your mother fast-approaching with a mix of furious and worried in her expression. “Auntie! Help!” 

Your mother was hovering over you in an instant, examining your bruises with furrowed brows and clenched teeth. “Ah, dear God, what happened here?!” She exclaimed in a scolding tone, piercing gaze darting between your tearful eyes and Jisung’s panicked ones. “Jisung, did you do this?” 

“It was an accident auntie!” The boy in question answered immediately as he shook his head nervously and scooted away with his hands up in defense. “It was an accident, I promise!” 

However, with your back turned to him then, you naturally had a different impression of the incident as you quickly retorted, “He pushed me, mommy! He pushed me off of the swing!” 

Your mother never made any clear indication that she believed you as she simply shook your head and lifted you by your shoulders and knees, carrying you to a nearby bench to treat your wounds. 

Angered by your outburst, Jisung reluctantly followed you and your mother to the bench then glared at you until your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. With his arms crossed and a permanent frown bordering a pout on his lips, he stood next to you in his attempt at looking visibly angry for a puny five-year-old while you hissed and whined in pain the entire time. 

What’s worse is that his own mother made him apologize by sending him off to the nearest convenience store to buy you apple juice and steamed buns. Because of this, you’ve been mortal enemies, rivals, each other’s designated future potential killer, whatever you want to call it ever since.

Age seven. Han Jisung helped perpetuate a wild rumour that you and the rest of the class’ female population had ‘cooties.’ 

It’s only natural for boys at this age to gravitate to similar actions, of course. After all, you’ve heard worse from boys in the other classes (read: Hwang Hyunjin crying and demanding to get sent home because a girl kissed him on the cheek on the first day of classes). It’s the fact that Jisung actually seemed to have to believed it for a brief period of time in your first grade, however, that completely threw you off. 

He pulled on your braids during the time he sat behind you and kicked your shins while in line for P.E. class to ‘test your anger patience’ that was apparently fueled by cooties and occasionally stole your snacks for actual ‘DNA evidence’ of said cooties among other petty little things. It was nothing short of annoying and the very bane of your existence then. 

“Han Jisung cut it out!” You yelled at him one day, hitting him on the shoulder with the curved end of your wooden broom during after-class cleaning time. In this particular incident, the boy managed to swiftly take one of your pigtails out while wiping the windows in an attempt to ‘examine’ the DNA in your hair. 

“What?!” He snickered, taking a big step away from you and lifting up the blue scrunchie to examine it for miniscule strands of loose hair. “It’s for research!” 

You groaned in annoyance, reaching forward to retrieve the scrunchie with one hand while the other instinctively ran through the messed up half of your hair. “Jisung, give it back, you weirdo!” You scolded through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes when he shakes his head stubbornly and takes another step back from your reach. 

“Tell me the secret first!” 

“Secret of what?!” 

“Do you girls actually have cooties?” He quirked a genuinely suspicious eyebrow at you, raising the scrunchie above your heads after when you proceed lunge forward at him. “Does it actually make you guys this irritable all the time?” 

Somehow, the questions struck some kind of nerve in you. You were tired from classes, cleaning, and having to put up with Jisung’s childish antics. Maybe 1st grade girls did have cooties but for tapping into unbridled anger. “I’m going to kill you!” With the broom in your hands and the dust pan you snatched from his in retaliation, you then proceeded on repeatedly hitting Jisung in the forearms and shoulders until he surrendered with his arms protectively over his head and your scrunchie finally within reach. 

He also offered to fix your pigtail back for you but given the amount of distrust you already had for him, you simply smacked him one last time and went to the other end of the room to fix your hair. 

Age nine. Maturing a little bit through summer camps and classes, you and Jisung redirected all of your energy from physical violence to outsmarting each other in class. 

It started in English class when Mrs. Lee introduced the idea of recitations garnering students points and a fancy award at the end of the school year. Coming from the same piano class in the summer prior wherein you and Jisung also competed for your instructor’s attention, the two of you were quick to consider this as another one of your competitions. 

You devoted most of your time to studying the lesson from the what’s, who’s, when’s, and where’s while Jisung thought that focusing more on the deeper why’s and how’s would somehow garner him better points no matter how many times Mrs. Lee reiterated that all recitation points are given in 1 point’s. 

As the school year progressed, especially after the first semester report cards came out and the two of you were tied to first place in English to the very third decimal, the academic rivalry immediately extended to competing for the most amount of extra-curricular activities. You were more favored with the way you handled baby animals at the local shelter and competed in debates and quiz bees while Jisung was mainly noticed by the soccer and baseball coaches and the school choir’s moderator for his skills in sports and music. 

Jisung’s mom, who always picked the two of you up from school in her minivan, obliviously thought it was cute. 

“You know, instead of competing over everything all the time, you guys can take some notes from each other.” She pointed out one time after hearing your comment on Jisung ‘smelling like a polluted Pacific Ocean’ as he climbed in the backseat of the car. The sentiment almost went in one ear and came out of the other with the two of you, however, as Jisung proceeded on complaining that you smelled like ‘Cruella de Vil’s fake fur coat’ then hitting you on the head with his soccer ball. “Especially you, Sungie. You can learn a thing or two of keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week from Y/N.” 

You laughed at Jisung’s immediate shocked reaction of wide eyes and gaping mouth at this, slapping his arm in amusement and toppling over the backseat in laughter. “Yeah, Sungie, you really need help from that department.” You stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, laughing even more when he groans and hits you back with a light punch to your own arm. 

“Stop it.” He hissed at you before turning to his mother again, meeting her gaze through the rear view mirror. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Mrs. Han was also stifling her own laughs then, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead instead of checking for her son’s pouting expression and crossed arms through the mirror. “Okay, okay.” She chuckled playfully with a dismissive hand, catching your eye after with a giggle. “Y/N, you should learn how to commit to exercise more with Jisung, then. There? Happy?” 

Satisfied, Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at you as if completely forgetting the fact that he was attacked by his own mother first. “Bleh!” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a light-hearted scoff of your own, laughing away the way he proceeded to exaggeratedly tease you. “You’re so childish, Sung.” 

When your moms did seriously consider this idea later on, you were then forced to dedicated one weekend to taking each other to your respective extra-curricular activities. It was right before your final examinations and Jisung ended up getting scared over a golden retriever giving birth while you received severe cramps from the elementary soccer team’s rigorous conditioning training. 

It was a recipe of disaster, basically, and it ultimately led you and Jisung to cram knowledge for your exams on Sunday night in his bedroom. When you stubbornly didn’t learn anything from going to each other’s favorite extra-curriculars, you unconsciously ended up learning from each other in the six hours you both stayed up trying to review your notes. Miraculously (as in the miracle of hot brewed Milo-induced sugar rushes), it went well and the two of you tied or were close in grades at the second release of report cards.  

The only downside of it all was just the fact that the fancy recitation award in your English class that started it all somehow went to Hyunjin. 

“Ah, this is so frustrating!” You exclaimed on the ride home from school. You had your report card in your hands like Jisung, looking back on it all the while stressing out about Hyunjin winning the award the two of you spent a whole school year competing for. 

On the other side of his mom’s backseats, Jisung then turned to you and suggested, “Want to prank him? We’re playing soccer next week, you can swap his Cola for soy sauce.” 

You glanced over at Jisung, your pout slowly turning into a mischievous grin at his raised brows. “You’re onto something...” 

Age ten. You went on your first class field trip with a stuffed purple lunch bag of snacks.

Your mother specifically suggested that you share it with Jisung, thinking that the two of you would sit next to each other on the bus since he’s your only classmate she’s actually familiar with. But of course, when Jisung didn’t bring up any hints that he knew of this while waiting for the school bus to arrive, you immediately thought against it and planned out how you were going to hide your seemingly endless supply of snacks from him on the back-and-forth rides to Namsan Tower.

It was a well thought-out plan involving sitting near to the front and as far away from him as possible with your own group of friends then hiding the lunch bag under your seat until you caught Hyunjin not-so-discreetly trying to steal from you while he re-checked attendance after a stop-over.

“Jisung put you up to this, didn’t he?” You frowned, candy successfully retrieved from Hyunjin’s prying hands and popped into your mouth as the lanky boy scratched the back of his head in shame. “It’s okay, Hyunjin, I won’t kill you. It’s Jisung’s corpse I’m planning to roll down Namsan if he’s actually behind this.”

After a few more coaxing, Hyunjin eventually nodded sheepishly and admitted to Jisung convincing him to take a candy bar from you.

“Ya! Hyunjin!” Jisung whined from across the bus, peeking his head up from the identical red seats with balled up fists. “I told you not to rat me out!”

“Y/N was being scary!” Hyunjin argues back, sprinting back to his seat as soon as the the bus stopped at a streetlight. Hiding under the sea of seats, he then exclaimed, “You two take me out of your fights! Geez!”

Jisung pouted at you as soon as you lifted your own head up from your seat and turned around to face him, holding his hands out in front of him and then asking, “Can’t I really have candy?”

You shook your head stubbornly. “If I give you one, everyone’s going to ask me for it too.”

“But everyone’s basically asleep!”

“They could be fake-sleeping for all I know!” You hissed, popping another ball of candy in your mouth. “I don’t trust anyone in this class with food but myself.” 

“Y/N!” He whined, only to get pulled down by force when the bus abruptly begins moving again. Scrambling up right after, he then continued pleading, “Please?”

“No.” You firmly concluded, sitting back down on your seat. 

Jisung even tried staying behind to try and steal candy off of you while the entire class was piling outside to enter Namsan Tower, only to trip in surprise when you jumped on him from crouching under the seats. Poor boy almost hit his head on the seats in shock.

“I knew you’d pull this kind of shit.” You tsked in disapproval with a slight stutter towards cursing at such an age, smacking him over the head anyway before throwing the smallest piece of chocolate candy you had from your bag. Moving past him to the bus exit, you then added, “You don’t even do nice things for me.”

You only meant it half-heartedly, though. Whether Jisung actually wanted more candy or he did sincerely felt bad over what you said, either way, he paid for the expensive pink lock you and your friend wanted to hang at the very top of the tower later on but only if you promised to share your snacks.

Jisung received three packets of gummy bears and a bottle of banana milk from you in the end on the ride home.

Age twelve. The Hans temporarily moved to Malaysia in the summer before the seventh grade because of an assignment for Jisung’s father at work.

On the day before their flight, Mr. and Mrs. Han organized a farewell party in their house at the other end of the block and invited your entire class. Jisung tricked you into getting him a farewell present by telling you that everyone was planning to do the same thing as a surprise but he secretly found out thing.

He didn’t actually expect you to get him something, not with the way the two of you have always been at each other’s necks since you were kids, but you ended up surprising him in the middle of the lunch party by giving him a small notebook of useful Malaysian phrases you wrote down yourself. You don’t always agree with Jisung but you think of yourself as thoughtful and civil enough to buy something practical. Also, your parents insisted. 

“O-Oh, you actually got me something?” He fumbled through an intense blush that matched the redness of his Supreme cap, almost tripping over nothing as you both stood on the steps leading down to the back of his house. It didn’t help that a few classmate passersby were glancing your way as well, either cooing or snickering at the awkward sight in the corner of all the socialization. “L-Like—like, this is actually for me?”

You raised a brow in confusion and reluctantly shrugged, releasing the red phrasebook from your grip as he held onto it by the other end. “Yeah, you said you’re getting presents so I...got you one.”

“I actually lied—“

“What?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly for your taste, earning you a sharp glare from your mother all the way across the backyard. Mouthing a quick apology to your her, you then quickly averted your glare back to Jisung who instinctively resorted to looking at anywhere but you. “But you said—“

“I thought for sure that no one would give me any farewell presents since it’s not a birthday or anything but I know you would if you’re like forced to or something so I thought...hehe...” He mustered up a sheepish grin, pressing his index fingers together in a comical shy gesture. When your glare intensifies, he then immediately held his hands up in defense and visibly winced, “Ya, don’t hit me!”

Every fiber in your being really wanted to hit him with the notebook then, maybe even push him down the stairs while no one was looking, but after a moment of thinking your way out of such violent thoughts, you resorted to exhaling a sigh and saying, “Whatever, just keep the notebook or something. I don’t care. It’s not expensive, anyway.”

You chanted to yourself that you’re mature, especially as Jisung’s eyes lit up and he immediately thanked you for both the gift and sparing his life that day.

Though he didn’t hear the end of the other teasing from Hyunjin after that, Jisung kept the notebook around anyway throughout his entire two-year stay in Malaysia. It was helpful but he’ll never admit that to your face.

“You kept it.” You pointed out one day, more as a statement than a question as you realized that the notebook he was using for exam reviewer notes was in the same color as the phrasebook you gave him. When Jisung came back in the summer before the ninth grade, the two of you met again in the same cram school wherein mostly everyone but you and the transfer student, Kim Seungmin, refused to help him keep up with the heavier than usual workload. “The phrasebook...”

“Yeah—well, I didn’t want to waste any of the pages you didn’t write on.” He pouted stubbornly as he flipped through the older pages to compare the amount of pages you used to the empty sheets. His tone actually sounded like he was convincing himself much more than he was trying with you but you missed it complete in the moment. “Be more eco-friendly, Y/N.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him. “Glad to know I kept you alive in another country somehow, then.”

Age fourteen. You went to a soccer game to see Jisung but only because one of your friends, Eunha, developed a crush on the striker and eventually hatched a plan to confess on the game before Valentine’s Day. Fortunately, Jisung barely noticed and didn’t tease you for it since it’s already an established fact that you’re always at his games with either Yang Jeongin or Seungmin to cheer on Hyunjin instead.

You really didn’t get it. Of course, fifteen was the time when some, if not all, parts of your day were starting to become dedicated to vanity and all the artificial things in life to attract kind of puppy love in school but at this point Jisung always wore the same green hoodie, red Supreme cap, and white ‘Eyez on You’ shirt to every school function that didn’t require wearing a uniform.

You understood how your classmates suddenly began fawning over Hyunjin right after the summer when he got his braces removed and then Seungmin for bringing a suit and tie one time for an inter-school debate but the hype over Jisung suddenly bringing in his guitar to class breaks everyday and re-emerging as a star soccer and baseball player throughout the school year is an absolute mystery to you. That or, maybe compared to your junior high peers, you’re just as used to him at this point than they all are. In your perspective, the only legitimate thing he has going on is how he always seems to beat you in most Arts subjects and how annoying it is that he always makes sure to rub that in your face. 

“I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t shower properly right after training.” You shook your head disapprovingly at Eunha during the game. Soccer is an interesting sport for surprisingly bringing you up to stand and cheer at some moments, you’ll give it that, but watching Jisung get cocky and interact to the crowd whenever his team scored a point was somehow cringe-worthy to watch. “And I’m so sure he still doesn’t clean that soccer ball of his right after practice. You deserve better, sis.”

But no matter how much you talked shit about him throughout the entire game, Eunha still held onto the box of handmade candies she coerced you into picking up from Jisung’s favorite candy shop on the weekend prior and cheering him on with the slogan she made herself. It would’ve looked cute and sweet to you if it was some other guy but it’s Jisung—the guy who pushed you off a swing, pulled your hair, stole candy from you, and made all of your elementary after-school rides home an actual rollercoaster—and you would never wish his treatment of you to any other person ever.

“You said that was in elementary, Y/N.” Eunha chuckled softly, nudging your elbow before a sour expression could completely overtake your face. “Surely he’s outgrown that girls have cooties phase every boy had then.”

“No, it’s Jisung and I refuse to believe it.”

You really didn’t want to believe it with your natural instinct to see Jisung as the bane of your existence. What’s worse is that Eunha was right and Jisung shyly accepted the Saturday movie date at the mall that she came up with on the spot when he surprisingly received the candies well, a complete stretch from the Jisung who would’ve lied about being busy or tricked your friend into doing something else altogether. Suddenly, it was selfishly annoying that you’re the only one he actually tortures the life out of.

“Told you.” Eunha giggled throughout the drive back to your house. Your mother picked you up from school right after the soccer game for a sleepover you insisted was a must whether or not your friend scored her Valentine’s Day date. “Ah, I’m glad he accepted. I was a nervous wreck there! You don’t happen to know what kind of movie he likes, do you?”

You never heard the end of it from her for the remainder of the semester. The two were never official—middle school just didn’t have that solid idea of significant others, then—but they did went on numerous ‘dates’ almost every weekend that followed Valentine’s Day. Naturally, Eunha would tell you all about it. 

“He’s so sweet and caring and thoughtful!” The girl endlessly gushed out to you so genuinely you would’ve been happy had you not been sincerely expecting a major fuck-up from Jisung. Nothing romantic really did come out of these dates, even Jisung surprisingly swears by it, but they did become really close friends after and as Jisung’s only other female friend at the time, you can clearly see a point of comparison between his different treatment of you. “Though, I’m gonna give it to you that he is annoying sometimes but he does know a lot of good places to hang out around town for someone who’s been away for two years!” 

“He does the bare minimum for everything, Eunha. I could barely call it sweet.” You scoffed unamused. 

Age sixteen. In the summer after the tenth grade, an upperclassman from school by the name of Lee Minho started volunteering at the same local shelter you’ve been under since elementary after surrendering a lost cat to you while he and Jisung were playing baseball at the nearby park. 

He adopted Dori in the end but prior to finalizing the adoption papers, he actually made the effort to come in at your MWF schedule to help around and see the dark grey kitten. To you, it was endearing and thoughtful since you didn’t have much active co-workers at the shelter your age but to Jisung, it was slightly inconveniencing how Minho would cut off their play-time to see the cat. He even thought Minho had a crush on you and vice versa but you knew that Minho liked one of his own closer friends. 

“Jeoyeon?” Minho scoffed, crouching down next to you one time as you watched over the new litterbox of kittens eating with Dori on your feet. Crossing his arms over his knees, he shook his head and chuckled, “They’re cool and we’ve been friends for a long time but I’m sure they have a big fat crush on Bang Chan. Something happened after their McDonald’s date after our prom, I’m telling you!” 

“No, not Jeoyeon! I meant Bora!” You argued back with a laugh, picking up a white kitten that wanders off to your feet and lifts its body up cutely for a lift. Gingerly pressing the kitten to your shoulder, you then turned to Minho and continued, “The one who came by the other day to see Dori with you. Aren’t you guys rooming together in college?” 

Minho clutched his chest dramatically at this, shaking his head with a comical conviction. “What?! How could you accuse me of that, Y/N? Bora’s from a different cheerdance team! That would be like sleeping with the enemy!” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking him off of his balance by elbowing his sides. “Ya, I didn’t say that, you did!” You scoffed at him, sighing when he laughs off landing on his butt before sitting up in a crisscross position. “Anyway, don’t you like her?” 

“If I don’t like her, we wouldn’t be making all these plans to move in together for college, stupid.” Minho snickered, earning him another elbow jab from you. “Well, what do you want me to say? You asked me if I like her, you didn’t ask me how exactly I like her.” 

"Okay then, you wise wise person: how do you like Bora?” You sighed dryly, plopping down on the ground at feeling your ankles starting to ache from crouching. The kitten on your arm then jumped down to your lap, circling your legs a few times before finding a comfortable position to sleep in. “You know, the more you visit here with this kind of sarcasm, the more I’m starting to understand where Seungmin and Jisung are suddenly getting all of their newfound sassiness from.” 

Minho chuckled next to you, picking up Dori for himself once he saw him finish eating before hugging the kitten gently to his cheek. “Bora’s...someone I’d probably punch a guy in the team for if they ever disrespect her. I mean, I’d punch a guy for Dahyun, Jeoyeon, and Jihyo, too, of course, but Bora’s in the same sport where she’s always getting lifted in the air and touched by who knows who and now that we won’t be in the same team, I feel even more responsible for keeping an eye out for her.” He shrugged casually, ignoring the way your jaw just dropped at how naturally he explained himself. “Plus, it took a lot of convincing to get her to be my roommate so I can’t really have her dying under my care in the next four years.” 

“I—” You furrowed your brows in thought, pursing your lips in a pout. “Wow, I’m jealous.” 

“Then get on my good side, Y/N.” Minho winked with a laugh, holding Dori in front of you. “Let me take this baby home at the end of the summer.” 

You rolled your eyes again at this, shaking your head. “No, I mean...I hang out with Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung and they aren’t really the most well-versed boys on treating girls properly.” 

“That’s why you hang out with me. We all know that Hyunjin just can’t say no to anyone who offers him a slightly more expensive bouquet of flowers, Seungmin’s in a relationship with baseball and academics, and Jisung...Jisung’s just dumb in general.” Minho then pointed out with a somehow knowing tone, smirking when a familiar figure passes by the hallways right behind you. “Speaking of...” 

Jisung joined you and Minho after, making sure to sit in between the two of you and drowning himself in as many kittens who wanted to sit on his lap as much as he can. “Dude, you shouldn’t have left early!” He scolded Minho with a pout and a slightly breathless tone from running all the way from the park. “Seungmin joined us today and he completely wiped out Sunwoo’s team!” 

“Then even more reasons to come here early so you guys could play with Seungmin on your team.” Minho laughed, gently handing Dori over to you from across Jisung before standing up and dusting the lint off of his jeans. “Y/N needed help with feeding the cats and puppies today, anyway.” 

Jisung frowned, turning to you after and asking, “Don’t you have any other co-workers around here?”

“Jeno has allergies so I don’t let him in here on most days.” You shrugged, handing Minho the empty pet bowls nearest to you as he proceeded to clean and collect them. “I can do it myself, you know. It’s just that Minho comes over and insists.” 

“Then you should’ve just told him that so we can play longer.” 

“Why is it a big deal? Do you like Minho?” 

“Do you?” Jisung’s eyes widened, almost getting scratched by a random cat in the process. “Because...because that’d be gross, to be honest...”

At this moment, your eyes accidentally met Minho’s right behind Jisung and the older boy had the audacity to wink at you before sprinting out of the room with a thumbs up above his head. 

In the end, you shrugged and answered, “I like him.” 

“What?!” Jisung sat up so quickly he almost scared a bunch of kittens walking all over his chest into jumping away.

“I’d be a psychopath if I don’t like him but let him volunteer around here, dumbass.” You deadpanned, moving the kittens around him to a safer space on the floor. “Besides, you asked me if I like him, not how I like him.” 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

Minho had a whole laugh out of eavesdropping from this conversation that he felt bad and actually adjusted his schedule for volunteering and playing soccer better so ‘Jisung would have one less thing to whine about all the time.’ 

Age seventeen. You and Jisung tried convincing your respective parents that going to prom as a group is the more practical and actually trendy thing to do but your mothers wouldn’t have it. Ultimately, the two of you ended up lying that you’re going as each other’s dates. 

You initially planned on begging to Seungmin until he pulled up balloons, roses, and a song number to his lab partner right on the lunch break that you planned on doing it and, of course, you had enough dignity to not fall in line with the countless of students that basically worshipped Hyunjin’s locker as if it were a shrine. 

Jisung, with Eunha already set on going with someone else she started dating at the beginning of the 11th grade school year, was the convenient choice. Your parents knew each other, he knows someone (his older brother) who can drive, and he’s recently gotten over his Emo-Hypebeast wardrobe phase after joining the school’s radio club with Chan and Changbin. With some convincing (read: an elaborate PowerPoint Presentation he made you do on the spot during one of your lunch breaks), the two of you decided that you would take all the photos your respective mothers wanted, carpool to the hotel, then go on your separate ways until his brother picks the two of you up at the end of the night. 

It was a simple and fool-proof plan, one that you almost forgot when you rented an emerald green and gold prom attire then Jisung’s mother told you right after about hearing her son trying to order a purple callalily boutonniere that clearly did not match your taste nor your colors (you sorted this out by cancelling the order and taking matters into your own hands). Then, the most awkward photo op at your house happened. 

“Sungie, put your arm around Y/N!” 

“Y/N, stop slouching, you’re going to wrinkle your outfit!” 

You were never serious-looking in any photos that had Jisung in it as well, preferring to pose like the two of you planned on murdering each other right after the photos instead, but your respective moms were holding your Instax camera and the family film cameras across the living room in this particular situation and so you reluctantly kept it inside. Straightening up your shoulders and elbowing Jisung to at least wrap an arm over your shoulder, you held up smiles right next to your red rose corsage and boutonniere set until the two women were eventually satisfied with their photos. 

“Aah, you two really make a cute couple!”

“Mom, we’re not a couple!” Jisung whined, glaring at you after which you immediately returned with the same expression.

“God, I’d sell all my limbs first before we actually become a couple.” You deadpanned back at him.

Fortunately, Jisung’s older brother allowed the two of you to basically try and throw each other out of the car windows on the thirty-minute ride to the hotel venue in compensation. You almost had him by the neck and he almost ruined your hair that you spent hours curling until Hyunjin pulled you back with a smack to your head and dragged the two of you away to help in the Prom Committee’s final preparations since Jisung was going to perform with Changbin and you were a part of the Prom’s Logistics team. 

You mostly stayed out of each other’s hairs for most of the first part of the program as you were busy pulling everything together while Jisung was having the time of his life with the soccer and basebal teams. The next time you bumped into each other, you scolded him for running late to his and Changbin’s set after dinner. 

“Where were you?!” You mostly hit him in the back with your clipboard, frantically passing him his already set up electric guitar and a microphone. First, one of your peers got drunk too early in the dinner to help out in the program, then one of the event’s award sashes briefly went missing and, not to mention, a lot of the people from the other committees somehow forgot about their event tasks when you asked in the main groupchat. You really weren’t having anyone’s antics at this point. “Geez, we already practiced this!” 

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Why are you so on edge?” Appropriately, he whined in complaint and took a step back after receiving his equipment, holding his hands up in defense as he always does. “Cut me some slack, Y/N! It’s prom!” 

“You’re so late when your table is literally right next to the side of the stage!” 

“I was dancing with everyone else! You wouldn’t know since you wouldn’t even take a break!” 

“Because I’m busy!” 

“No, you’re just being more irritable than usual!” 

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.” You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, coldly directing him to the stage. “You’re on, get on the stage.” 

You knew he didn’t mean it cruelly, especially when his pupils started to shake and his shoulders instinctively slumped as he glanced back at you right before reluctantly stepping up the star-filled stage, but you were too tired of having to run around and making the event perfect for most of the night to process anything, much less his usual jabs at you. Being in such a tired headspace, you couldn’t enjoy his songs no matter how undeniably great they were, much less meet his eyes when you knew how he kept glancing at you throughout the entire set. 

He even covered your favorite song on the spot (which surprised Changbin and had Hyunjin running around backstage to inform everyone of the sudden extension) but you already sat down on your shared table with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Eunha, and their dates before he could even begin singing the chorus.  

“Hey, you good?” Minjung, Eunha’s date, asked you with an offering of an extra shawl to cover your exposed shoulders from the nearby air-conditioning unit. Eunha had previously left to go to the bathroom after stopping by your shared table. “Y/N, I told you if you needed extra help with the program, you could’ve just told us. We just planned on dancing tonight, anyway.” 

“I’m good.” You grumbled in a half-lie, resting your chin on your propped up hand tiredly, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ for the shawl as you fought away your tiredness. “I think I’ll just sit the rest of Prom out. Hyunjin can run the program on his own.” 

Minjung frowned, sitting down next to you and fixing the loose strands on the haphazard ponytail you managed to pull up in the middle of the program. “Are you sure? Eunha and I can stay with you until you’re feeling better. Besides, the program’s still long, you deserve to enjoy your hard work later at least.” 

Stubbornly, you simply scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “I think I’ve had enough of prom for one night. You should go and dance more, though. I’m okay as long as you guys are having fun.” 

But equally as headstrong as you are, Minjung got Eunha in on convincing you to agreeing to one dance with them as soon as she came back from the bathroom, reasoning out that, “We can stay in the back and just dance silly! It’s prom!” 

The pair proved themselves to be unstoppable in their joint persuasiveness when they got you to stand up and actually join them at the next set, right as Jisung was about to approach you to apologize. The poor boy ended up waiting the entire night until the two of you were alone instead, shivering right next to each other at the lobby while waiting for his brother to pick you two up. 

“Why did you even pick out something off-shoulder? I get that it’s trendy these days but you picked the venue knowing it’s cold and didn’t even connect a few dots there.” He hissed lowly, contemplating on teasing you further or keeping it quiet until he can muster up a ‘sorry’ to you. Shrugging off his jacket, he then gently draped it over your shoulder and added, “Don’t catch a cold or something...your mom’s going to kill me.” 

“Shut up.” You hissed back, crossing your arms further in over your chest as you spotted his brother’s car approaching the lobby’s driveway. You didn’t remove his coat from your back, though, clutching it tightly instead while convincing yourself that he willingly gave it to you so there’s no reason for you to throw it back at him when you really needed it. “ You don’t even do nice things for me.”

The familiar words visibly caught him off-guard, almost foiling his plan of opening the door for you as he freezes in his steps but he regains composure in time and almost trips ahead to swat your hand away from the car’s door handle. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled in the awkward silence, gulping down his fears of your death glare as he briefly averted his gaze away from you. With this, he missed the way your gaze softened. “There’s candies in the pockets.”

And there was, coincidentally enough the same brand he tried stealing from you on your school field trip.

“These aren’t expired, right?” You chuckled, popping a chocolate in your mouth anyway. 

That was enough for Jisung to relax his shoulders and laugh along. “No, promise.” He held a hand up as if he was swearing by his words, easing you into another fit of laughs. “I ran all the way to the convenience store down the block to get you those tonight! I felt really bad...I didn’t mean it.”

He could be sweet if he wanted, you’d give him that. 

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered to him at the end of the night, right after scoffing at him for insisting to walk you all the way to your doorstep of course. “I was so stressed with managing everything that I took it out on you.” 

Standing awkwardly with you right in front of your house’s front door, the sheepish boy rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “Nah, I think I deserve it. I do annoy you a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled, eyes trained to the ground. “I didn’t even ask you to one dance.” 

“Not like you actually had to, we’re no—” 

“But you were still technically my date and I don’t want to be a bad prom date, even to you!” He insisted anyway, only then looking up at you. “I’ll make it up to you in the distant future, okay? Reserve me your next dance in the distant future, no matter where it is!”  

Before you could even retort, he was already running back to his brother’s car. 

Age eighteen and a half. Jisung began dating a girl named Haneul whom he met in one of his general classes and didn’t have one single clue about baseball or soccer. Naturally, his entire friend group was concerned. 

Though you’re much civil friends now, you still didn’t really care. Or maybe you didn’t want to out of spite (or a really really weird and displaced feeling of jealousy?), you weren’t sure. You just thought that Jisung can do whatever he wants even when it’s something that’s generally not advisable when you’re a freshman in college, but it seemed as if it was all Jeongin talked to you about whenever the two of you met up to study for one of your shared classes so naturally you forced yourself to take in all of the gossip. What’s worse is that Hyunjin would come over often to loiter around the library and gawk at the cute student librarian, ultimately encouraging the younger boy to talk about it more. 

“You’re being unfair to her.” You always reminded the two, sometimes Seungmin when he would sit quietly in the middle of the topic and say nothing to defend Haneul. In this particular time, Jeongin took you to watch the baseball team’s Wednesday scrimmage after hours of studying your nursing notes together at the nearby library. “Like, look, I don’t even do any sports myself but you guys hang out with me.” 

“But you’re different, you’re not dating any one of us.” Hyunjin snickered, hugging his helmet to his chest as he sat a step below you on the bleaches. When a thought then crossed his mind, he dramatically gasped over his gloves and added, “Wait, does that mean you have a crush on someone? Is it me?” 

You smacked him in the head with your hand, rolling your eyes after. “You know what I mean.” 

Next to you, Jeongin mustered up a shrug as he tried getting an injured Kira to sit back down on her seat. Your stubborn best friend, after playing at an underground derby game on the weekend prior, kept on moving around because sitting down with her injuries made her uncomfortable. “But at least you make an effort for us even if it’s just small.” He reasoned out, huffing tiredly when Kira finally sits down and promises not to move for the next five minutes. You would’ve helped him but personally you thought he deserved to suffer alone after letting her go out despite her injuries today. “Haneul got dragged by Jisung to watch last week’s scrimmage and didn’t even last a set. She just left in the middle of the game—literally!”

“He made Jisung skip on my derby game to too!” Kira pouted, waving her bandaged hands frantically in the air. “I’m personally offended, Y/N!”

“And she doesn’t seem to like talking to us in general.” Hyunjin shrugged in conclusion. “Like, sports aside, she’s a bit rude and nonchalant when she talks to us in general especially when Sung isn’t around. It’s a bit sus to me.” 

“To be fair, Kira, I wouldn’t be going too if you and Yeji aren’t so insistent on it. It’s so worrying seeing the two of you get hurt.” You pointed out before averting your attention to Jeongin once more. “And Jeongin, you know the only reason I can’t leave baseball and soccer games these days is because you and Seungmin are usually my ride home.” You scoffed. “If I could, I’d be hanging out with Felix more and only going to Kira’s games. Ya, why is he even allowed to skip games and I’m not, anyway?”

“Because he’s taking classes and training with the cheerdance squad until 8 PM and as far as I’m concerned, you’re free after 12 noon like me!” Jeongin simply grinned at you, earning himself a glare. “Also, I need you here with me as the medic team. You know I’ll panic alone!” 

Fortunately, no one ever actually gets injured at any of the games regardless if they were formal or not. By the time the game has finished, you were reminding Kira to rest more at her dorms and sprinting out of the baseball field to the samgyeopsal place the team promised to treating dinner at. You completely missed the boys’ conversation on Haneul in the process but you did get free food.

You really didn’t get it. The one time you met Haneul by chance, when you and Felix bumped into the two at the mall near the supermarket, she seemed a bit distant but she could be polite when she wanted to. Of course, it rubbed you the wrong way but you and Felix thought that it was none of your business anyway, given that neither of you are dating her. 

“When the guys walked me out of the baseball field last Wednesday, they did mention something about Jisung aiming for the soccer national team but who knows if they’re exaggerating again or something.” Kira confided in you later that week when the two of you met up over lunch. “Either way, I’d understand. If I were in Jisung’s shoes, I’d feel a little disheartened if someone I really like doesn’t appreciate the things I’m passionate about!”

Still, you simply let your friends sort it out for themselves. “Jisung’s a grown-up, he can figure things out on his own at the end of the day.” You reasoned out. 

Age eighteen and three-fourths. Jisung asked—practically begged—you to go to the movies with him because he and Haneul broke up the week before his birthday after opening up his worries to her. The other ticket was meant to be a surprise for his ex-girlfriend.

From what Jeongin and Felix have gossiped to you on two separate occasions, Haneul apparently didn’t like you and the rest of Jisung’s immediate friend group no matter how many times the boys tried warming up to her and getting to know her over the summer. She didn’t really support Jisung’s passion for sports, too, and mostly just stuck around for the ‘clout of it all’ or however Felix worded it to you. 

“I’d ask Hyunjin but he has a date with that librarian!” Jisung frowned over the phone on the night before the scheduled screening of Weathering with You. Reminiscent of a similar time long ago, he sounded more like he was convincing himself than you. “And Seungmin’s taking care of Kira, Minho and Felix are training, Changbin’s doing God knows what with his finals, Chan has swim training and—and yeah, you know where I’m going with this!” 

You sighed, rolling over on your back in your bed after submitting your online work. “You can ask the baseball team, the soccer team, your Introduction to Musical Theory class, the campus radio club, and—and yeah, you also know where I’m going with this.” 

“Yeah but—but it’d be weird if I just went with anyone or something!” He mumbled under his breath, pausing on the other line to scratch his head in thought. “Come on, it’s not your midterms week yet, right? Can’t you come over and go to the movies with me?”

“You’ll probably strangle me in the dark or something.” You argued next. 

“But it’s free tickets! At least you’re going to die with free tickets!” 

“So you are planning to kill me! I knew it!” You snorted dryly, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have anyone else to go with? Why me?” 

Jisung took in a sharp breath in the longest pause you’ve ever heard from the usually rowdy boy. At that moment, only then did you notice the faint sounds of pre-recorded dialogues for soccer arcade games. He must’ve been at the one near his dorm then as he usually was when he was contemplating on something. “I just—honestly, I’m still processing all of this and I don’t want to open up to the guys...and Eunha’s abroad and I’m not that close to Kira or Bora so I thought of you.” 

Now, it was your turn to be speechless. 

“It’s silly, I know.” Jisung continued with an awkward laugh when he didn’t hear anything on your end. “But even when you’re annoying sometimes and you always get angry at me because you always misunderstand, you’ve known me the longest and I know you listen well and you’re always open-minded about things so I thought I’d vent to you, if it’s okay...” 

You finally released a defeated sigh, sitting up properly on your bed as if he was actually in the same room as you. “God, you’re too good at making me feel guilty.” You mused out loud. “Fine, just text me the place and time and no funny business!” 

You met up with Jisung at the nearest shopping center the following night, surprise paper bags of take-out and a mini cake for two to eat at the cinema. 

“I’m only going to be nice to you this time because you just got dumped and it’s your birthday later.” You explained as serious as you can to a giggling and blushing Jisung, handing him the take-out paper bags. Once the dinner meals are in his hands, you then take out the blueberry mini cheesecake from its separate paper bag and set up the candle you brought along with it. “Now, make a wish and get it over with.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened at the pink candle suddenly being pushed up to his face, distracting him from the passersby cooing and making comments at the two of you. “Really?” 

You nodded impatiently, thrusting the cake further up his face. “Yes! Now, blow on your candles or I’ll do it myself and eat the whole thing!” 

Jisung wasted no time blowing the single candle and taking the cake from you as well, jumping up and down in place as he closed the lid carefully and returned it to its paper bag. “Thank you!” He exclaimed gleefully, pulling you to a side hug. “Now, I feel a bit better.” 

“You better.” You frowned back at him, biting down a small smile when his hug lingered on a second longer. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late to the screening.” 

Fortunately, Jisung didn’t actually tried strangling you in the dark while the movie played since he became busy with eating his dinner and cake as well as crying over the plot. 

Age nineteen. Jisung took you to the arcade inside the shopping center after to vent while scoring kicks at the mini soccer game. 

“Basically, she said—” Score. “—that she felt annoyed that Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin were mostly onto her for ‘seeming off’ whenever they met or interacted.” Another score. Standing outside the protective fence, your gaze darted quickly between Jisung and the small net across the long room. “So I said that’s just how those guys are: they’re very curious of new people and make a lot of effort over it so when they feel that the other person’s energy seems off or doesn’t match theirs in any way, they’d worry.”

You nodded along whenever he glanced over to you, agreeing halfheartedly. “Hm, those guys don’t take bullshit, of course...”

“Yeah, right...” Jisung kicked another ball, barely missing the goal as he thinks of what to say next. “Then she started accusing the guys that they don’t like her because she doesn’t do sports which doesn’t even make sense because I know it’s not superficial like that.” He sighed, scoring again. After this particular kick, he then stopped altogether and turned to you. “The guys just feel off that, as someone I’m dating, she doesn’t make enough effort to watch my games or be familiar with the sports I love. It’s not the same thing.”  

“But does she make an effort to listen to your music?” You blurted out of nowhere, surprising not only Jisung but also yourself. 

It just occurred you to on the spot. All this talk about Jisung’s passion for sports had you thinking if Haneul also disliked the one other thing that Jisung was absolutely passionate about: his music. 

And it seemed to have caught him off-guard as it took the boy longer to contemplate on the question. “I—n-no? No...” He furrowed his brows in thought, walking over to you on his side of the chain link fence. “Come to think of it, she never told me what she thought of the songs I used to send her for feedback...”

You nodded, mumbling under your breath, “So much for defending her from everyone last summer...” 

“Hm?” 

“Like, I’d get it if your friends don’t immediately warm up to her because that really does happen in some relationships and it can be remedied over time but not appreciating the things you, the person she’s dating, are passionate about is another thing. If she doesn’t like the things you’re passionate about, then maybe she really isn’t the one you should be with.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “She could be all things nice but if she doesn’t support your own ambitions, other things that make you really happy, then everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

When he doesn’t speak, you allow yourself to continue. “Kira told me that you’re aiming for the national team in either baseball or soccer which is a bit surprising since I know you’re already being sought after for your music even at university so clearly those things are very important to you. Having someone around that doesn’t see that importance enough to make efforts is a bit meaningless in the long run, if you think about it. You...you deserve better, it’s what I’m trying to get at.” 

Still, he wouldn’t speak after everything you said. Instead, the boy just gaped at you from the fence. It definitely unnerved you as time dragged on longer. 

“I let you vent and made my own input on it like you wanted me here to and you just gape?” You tsked through your nervousness, crossing your arms teasingly and leaning over the fence on your side. “Ji, say something.” 

“...thank you.” He finally breathed out before you could complain further, catching you off-guard this time. “I needed that.” 

“What?” 

“This whole thing just made me feel really conflicting feelings.” He confessed, voice lower than usual now as he mirrored your position. “Thank you for listening and telling me what you thought. They definitely made a lot of things clearer.” 

You smiled, shoving him slightly through the fence separating the two of you. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it birthday boy?” You teased, laughing even more when he pouted at your teasing tone. “So? Feel better, then?” 

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, grinning widely now. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.” 

“You won’t admit it to my face but I know you’d do the same for me if I annoyed you into it enough.” You shrugged, standing up properly now and walking over to the entrance. “Now, would you let me play? You’ve been at it for twenty minutes, it’s getting tiring watching you.” 

He laughed at this as you joined him in the arcade space, kicking a soccer ball towards you as soon as you came in through the chain entrance. “What? You think you can do better?” 

“I had to watch you all the time after school back then because you were my ride home and Mrs. Han always picked us up late. I’m sure that could amount to something.” 

Age nineteen and a half. For a mandatory community service class, all of your friends signed up to volunteer at an orphanage. 

The majority vote was actually at the shelter you used to volunteer at but your old neighbourhood was too far from the university you were attending and so the most practical option, the orphanage just two blocks away, was the natural next best thing. And from this one semester’s worth of experience, you definitely learned a lot about your friends. 

For one, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were only popular with kids but only for their looks (additionally, his baking skills for Felix). Whenever you passed by them during volunteer hours, you would often find the three buried underneath a pile of toddlers hitting them with all kinds of toys. Feeling bad, you actually got the orphanage’s matron to assign them to the older kids after a while. 

Seungmin and Kira, on the other hand, were so awkward at first but naturally got into the groove of it. Maybe it’s because they only started dating then and everything was flustering but they surprised you the most with how much they got along with almost all of the kids regardless of age. 

Then, there was Jisung whom almost all of the younger kids practically fought over to play with at the playground. As if it was an inside joke of some sort, it made you laugh the most how the kids would often ask him to push them at the swings. 

“Careful now,” You reminded him once jokingly, elbowing his side as the two of you approached the swing set where the kids were already waiting to get pushed on their respective seats. “don’t want their knees to get scraped or something.”

He simply scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I won’t let that happen, not at this age.” 

“So if I asked you to push me on the swings later, you won’t try and kill me this time?” You asked next, waving hello to the children before going around the swing set to gently push them to momentum. Jisung followed suit, making a beeline to his favorite, a toddler named Ara who always asked to be pushed higher on the swings. 

“That’s a trick question because we’re not actually allowed to play here.” He answered matter-of-factly, turning to Ara right after. “Isn’t that right, Ara? Y/N isn’t allowed to play here because she’s an adult, right?” 

The two of you would sit on the swing set and take turns pushing each other when the orphanage staff weren’t looking anyway, giggling amongst yourselves while watching the kids migrate to the jungle gym. 

“You were so annoying when we were kids!” You mostly complained, letting yourself laugh about it now as it was all in the distant past. “You had the ‘girls had cooties’ phase and everything.” 

“Because the boys all said it was true!” Jisung was quick to say in his defense, twisting the chains on his swing around to make himself spin. “And I was seven so of course I’d believe them that easily!” 

“What about when you pushed me from the swings?” 

“We both know that was an accident.” 

“You could’ve secretly held a grudge against me as early as that time! You were so mad when your mom made you buy me snacks!” 

“Because you told your mom that I did it on purpose! I thought you hated me even before that too.” 

“Well, I never hated you before that, just to set the record straight.” You shook your head immediately, turning your swings to the side to face him briefly. “You? Did you ever hate me?”

“Never.” He shook his head back at you in response, equally serious now. “You were annoying at times but that was because I was kinda annoying to you too.”

“What about now?” You asked next, voice unexpectedly wavering at asking such a question and even more when he chuckled at this. 

“You were with me on my what was almost my worst birthday ever just three months ago. What do you think?” He scoffed playfully, returning to his spinning to ease his flustered face. “Besides, we’re like better less-trying to kill each other all the time friends now! We’re even studying together again these days.” 

“We both know you’re only at the library since you’ve been trying to wingman Hyunjin with the librarian and dote on Jeongin like he’s your baby.” 

“What? No, I’m there for you too! Moral support!” 

Age nineteen and three-fourths. Jisung’s older brother invited you along with your parents to his wedding during the Spring break and Jisung immediately jumped on the chance to redeem himself as ‘the best dance partner you ever had.’ 

You didn’t even think he’d remember something he said himself back then. Personally, you thought it was just his guilt from pissing you off or sleepiness from dancing too much at prom that was talking then. But the moment the dance floor was opened at the rather extravagant cherry blossoms-themed wedding, the best man was by your side within seconds after sprinting from his table across the wedding hall. 

“Y/N!” He called to you as he ran to your table shared with all of your friends, your parents, and a few people from your childhood neighbourhood; his obnoxiously loud voice against the jazz music and his hand raised up above his head to wave at you catching a few guests’ attention. “Y/N!” 

Felix was about to ask you to dance after Seungmin and Kira as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin paired up, your hand already up in the air to accept his, but Jisung was quick to swat your hand away from the other boy as soon as he arrived. “Sorry, Lix, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N away!” He dramatically interrupted in between tired pants, flashing the confused Felix with a sheepish grin. “I owe Y/N a very important dance!” 

“What dance?” You raised a brow, bringing your hand away from his and back to your lap. 

“The one—t-the one I promised you that night a-at prom.” He sighed, finally catching his breath after. “I promised you then, remember?” 

From the corner of your eye, Felix’s eyes lightened up in excitement as he clasped his hands together and cooed. “Aww!” He giggled, making you and Jisung turn to him after. “If that’s the case, then why should I stop you two? I’ll just see if Chan or Changbin aren’t dancing yet!” 

“But Lix!” 

The other boy’s quick to wave his hands to you snappily, shaking his head. “No buts, Y/N! You two go and do that cute promised dance thing you have going on! I’ll be fine!” He assured, much to your protests. “I knew something was going on!” 

“Nothing’s going o—“

“Thanks, Lix! I owe you, dude.” Jisung pats Felix’s shoulder appreciatively, turning to you after and taking your hand once more to pull you up into a stand. “Now, come on! My brother said he has my songs on queue!” 

He whisked you away before you could protest further, taking you to the dance floor just as the music slows down to his own song. “Right on time!” He even exclaimed happily before placing his other hand on your waist. You’ve heard this one before as the one he would always sing at the Open Mic Nights at university. “Now, to make it up to you...” 

Jisung didn’t dance so bad. He was still playful, making it a game between the two of you on who can step on the other’s feet the most when the next songs became more upbeat, but he was serious when he wanted to, sheepishly apologizing that it took him long to make it up to you. 

“I didn’t even remember it until you brought it up tonight.” You assured with a laugh as the song slowed down once more. Without even realizing it, you’ve danced all of the songs in the two-hour setlist with him. “I didn’t think it was important.” 

“Well, it is to me.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he can, visibly looking nervous towards the end. When you quietly asked him why, his only response was, “Because that night I really realized that even when I liked annoying you, I don’t like pissing you off so much to the point that you hate me.” 

And at that moment you realized that Jisung has some way of catching you off-guard so randomly. “W-What? I mean—” You wanted to joke something along the lines of ‘wow, took you long enough,’ but the words ultimately never came out as Jisung chuckled at your baffled expression. 

“I mean, trying to piss each other off, joking around, competing over studies—those are our things.” He confessed sincerely, unconsciously tightening his grip on your hand as the song progressed. “But I said something that night thinking of it as a joke and not really considering the thought that it would piss you off so much because you were so stressed already. I didn’t like pushing you on edge like that—” 

“You already apologized and everything, it’s all g—” 

“—But most importantly, I really wanted to dance with you then, regardless of the incident.” He breathed out before you could even finish your thought, rendering you speechless for the second time. “Maybe I’ve always liked you then, maybe even before that; either way, I really wanted to have one moment where we weren’t fighting or anything—and, surprisingly, even when we’ve started hanging out better, I still want one. I still like you.” 

You immediately stopped dancing, bumping shoulders with a stranger behind you which Jisung instinctively responded to by pulling your frozen form to the side of the dance floor. You pursed your lips once to speak, only managing to fumble out, “Y-You...you liked me?” 

“I said I like you. Present tense.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides immediately at sensing how tense and awkward the atmosphere suddenly became. “And I like you the way Seungmin dotes on Kira and Minho’s always protective of Bora and Jeoyeon’s been helplessly pining over Chan, those kinds in case you’re going to pull that how exactly do I like you bullshit you learned from Minho before again.”  

“I—r-really?” Was your only response as you tried your best to process this revelation. “You like me? W-Why—why me?” 

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yes, Y/N, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” He teased as casually as he could muster with his growing nervousness. “And why you? I don’t know, either, but I think I can start remembering as far back as the time you teased me at the playground that I push like a sissy but didn’t look for another playmate anyway. I’ve always liked you...just a little bit more now that I’m much more sure of a lot of things.” 

It was all so overwhelming, honestly, but you belatedly muster up a laugh as he recalled such a distant memory from you. “Y-You...God, Han Jisung, you’re insufferable!” You mumbled under your breath, hitting him by his arm with one hand while the other covered your mouth. “Why didn’t you say so?” 

“So, does that mean you like me too?” 

“I let you dance with me the entire night. What do you think?” You scoffed playfully, gaze softening as you looked up at his relieved smile and bright eyes. “You did push like a sissy at the playground when we were kids, though.” 

Age twenty. When Minho bought his roommate flowers to their last cheerdance competition and asked her to be his girlfriend, Hyunjin dared you to one-up the upperclassman and wear Jisung’s jersey to his own final game of the year.

“Well, you did give him that talk over dating someone who appreciates the things he loves.” Eunha told you over video call with the rest of your friend group on the day Hyunjin brought up the idea. Before you could even protest and repeatedly assure that you do support everything Jisung does, she was quick to add, “Yeah, I know you do appreciate them but I just think it’s fitting now! He’s been making a lot of effort for you lately and didn’t you say you wanted to do something in return? Maybe you can finally ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask for a while now too...” 

You hated how she was right and very convincing about it. Since the wedding earlier in the year, Jisung has been nothing short of nicer to you. From actually hanging out with you at the library now (and not just to wingman Hyunjin or dote on Jeongin), buying you food randomly, to letting you vent your own worries and unwind from school by playing soccer with you or playing you music with his guitar, he’s been ‘making it up to you’ with quality time and sweet gestures; the only catch is that he hasn’t officially asked you out like he would. 

The two of you aren’t exactly the direct words type of people but it’s still nice to have some sort of affirmation. 

With a few more coaxing on her part combined with Seungmin’s own persuasiveness nagging at you in real time, your friends eventually got Jeongin to steal one of Jisung’s spare soccer jerseys later that day to give to you for his game on the following Saturday. 

To say that Jisung was flustered is an understatement to say the least. Quickly catching you at the very front of the bleachers before the game started, he waved at you and the rest of your cheering friend group shyly, approaching only when the coach gave him permission to. 

“Hey, that’s mine.” He snickered with even more sheepishness at seeing you up close, holding the jersey he wears by its shoulders before gesturing to the identical one you wear. The two of you stand by the stairs leading down to the field, on the side where you aren’t in the way of passing players and staff. “The jersey—maybe the one wearing it too.” 

You held up the bouquet of daisies in your hands close to your face, effectively hiding the heat rising up to your neck. “I bought your favorite flowers too.” You pointed out next before gesturing to your friends sitting around you. “Those smartasses dared me to outdo Minho’s stunt at the cheerdance competition which I still think is dumb since you were in on that one but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?” 

“Just seeing you is already enough.” He added with a flirty wink, making you cringe teasingly. “The jersey’s a really big bonus, though. I think I can score everything on this one because of you.” 

“You better or else this jerseys’ going to be mine now.” 

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head immediately, pulling you closer by the waist in his now ritual good luck hug from you and placing the flowers back on your sides. “I don’t mind calling you mine too.” 

The cheesy pick-up line makes the two of you laugh. Either way, you push yourself to not let go of him too soon. “...ew, Jisung!” You hit his back instead, heaving a sigh of relief anyway before finally pulling away from his hug to send him off. That’s enough confirmation now. “Now, go win this game and get it over with. We’re still on for movies later, right?” 

“Yep.” He assured, patting your head affectionately before boldly leaning closer again for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to it!” 

[dilirebas]

wanting to watch things but….

- paper on intersectional discrimination due monday because i took a 1-week course at the beginning of the year

- hundreds of pages of reading and several lecture recordings to catch up on bc i just got off the waitlist for a course 3 weeks into the semester…

- one of my other classes is Just Awful

- need to set up meetings with coordinators of 2 different extracurricular commitments to figure out the strategy for this semester

- why am i still in school

- i swear this will be my last degree, i’m hitting the workplace and never looking back

- ok i may have spent an hour this morning watching the new episode of Who’s the Murderer

- i didn’t even do my skincare routine this morning ;_;

[taephilia]

through time and space

part of @heartsforbtsnet​‘s hearts for halloween event!

pairing: kim seokjin x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, sci-fi, adventure, time travel au, doctor who au

word count: 10,694 (oops)

warnings/content: swearing, alcohol consumption, if you’ve watched doctor who then this is based off of river song and the doctor

summary: as a universe-renown time traveller, you’re a fairly common household name. From intergalactic governments to planets themselves, your help is needed across the universe; whether it be uniting an alien orphan with its human parents or playing peacemaker between two alien races that have both committed genocide against the other and are at the verge of war. You’ve seen countless faces, heard hundreds of names, but one has always stayed with you, following you like a shadow: kim seokjin.

a/n: this took me SO long mainly bc it’s been years since i watched doctor who and i still never quite understood how the doctor and river’s timelines worked. and it took me so long to even wrap my head around this fic’s timeline so hopefully this all makes sense. if you have any questions, feel free to send them in because time travel is very complicated and every interpretation of it is different and the fact that time just isn’t linear in this can make it very confusing. also this is unedited/not proofread bc i procrastinated, rushed some parts, lost motivation, like to live life on the edge, etc. you know how it is. also yes it’s late i’m sorry, i’m not even going to say why because it’s really embarrassing lmfao

tag list: @suhdays​ @ggukkieland​ @hesperantha​

i. planet busan in the year of AFI-283

Taking a walk through a city that you’ve never been to before in the morning is usually something you quite enjoy, but after having to save a neighboring town from an invasive species (which involved a lot of running away from giant man-eating worms which were the invasive species in question), your thighs are burning more than usual and all you want to do is get back to your ship and go home. You feel a bit guilty as everyone walks around you, grumbling underneath their breath about how slow you’re walking, just looking around like you have all the time in the world, but you figure that you deserve to admire the sights for just a little bit. And besides, you’re a time traveler—technically you do have all the time in the world.

As you get closer to the alleyway that you parked your ship in (and that you hope is still there), a strange whirring noise begins to sound out throughout the street, causing everyone around you to slow down and look for the source. A strange glowing orb appears in the middle of the sidewalk right in front of you and everyone around you either runs away or stands around it, scared but fascinated at the same time. You watch the orb grow brighter and brighter, shielding your eyes against the light with one hand while the other reaches down for the blaster gun on your hip. When the light is finally gone, there’s a metal booth standing in the middle of the street with smoke rising off of it. A strange banging noise can be heard coming from the inside of the machine so you slowly walk up to the door and knock, everyone around you waiting with bated breath to see what kind of creature would emerge.

All you see though when the door opens is a set of broad shoulders before you’re pressed up against someone, their arms wrapped tightly around you as they sway you side to side. They pull back to look at you and you’re met with bright brown eyes and possibly the handsomest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. And said handsome man still has his arms wrapped around you and although you’re sort of wondering if you actually got eaten by one of those worms and died and went to heaven, you’re also wondering who the hell he is.

“Stunned to see me, sweetheart?” he teases you and you swear that your heart rate picks up at the pet name. “I know that my good looks can be quite shocking sometimes but you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which we both know isn’t possible since ghosts aren’t real.” He rolls his eyes and laughs as if he made some sort of joke, and before you can even begin to process just what exactly is happening, the man leans down and presses his lips against yours. When he pulls away, he stares into your eyes and says softly, “But the fact that you look so beautiful this early in the morning is upsetting… yet amazing.”

Your brain short-circuits at that and you jump back from him in shock. You have to take a moment to look around, to look at literally anything or anyone but the man that just kissed you as a greeting, to stop your face from heating up even more and your heart from jumping out of your chest. The crowd that had first gathered around the booth had already dispersed during your brief interaction, people walking around you and only stopping to glance when you jumped back.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, although exactly what you’re apologizing for you have no idea. “But have we… met before?” Or done something more than just meet and somehow I experienced amnesia right after, you think to yourself, your lips still tingling from when they were pressed against his.

The man in front of you pulls out a journal and you’re taken aback at how it just seemed to appear out of nowhere. As he’s flipping through the pages, you stare at the purple cover and wonder where exactly he was hiding it before. He glances up at you and stops turning the pages when he sees you just staring at him, as if he expects you to be doing something as well. 

After a few seconds of the two of you just staring at each other, him in expectancy and you in utter confusion, he lets out a sigh. “What year is it on this planet? Where even are we? Planet Busan, correct?” he asks, hand poised over the pages as he awaits your answer.

At this point, you’re just convinced that this guy is crazy and you’re witnessing some sort of psychotic episode. Once you manage to get yourself out of this situation, you’ll definitely need to contact someone about him. But for now, you’ll play along. “Yeah, we’re on Planet Busan. It’s AFI-283,” you answer, eyebrows raising when he immediately begins thumbing through the pages.

His eyes flicker back and forth as he skims whatever is written down before finally stopping somewhere in the middle of the journal. You watch as his eyes widen before looking up at you and then back down at the journal. He lets out a little stunned “huh” before pursing his lips and closing the book. He takes a step closer to you as his eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s analyzing you or something because of how hard he’s staring at you. Who is this guy?

“So you don’t know me?” the man questions and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. That’s all he got out of this?

“Am I supposed to?” you retort as you cross your arms over your chest, getting a bit impatient at this man’s behavior. You just need to find the right time to slip away and-

“Well not to brag or anything but I am a pretty famous time traveler,” he informs you, interrupting your train of thought at the mention of the words ‘time traveler’. When he sees you perk up at the end of his sentence, he smirks and does a little bow for you. “Kim Seokjin at your service, madame.”

Your eyes widen upon hearing his name. “You’re Kim Seokjin?” you ask, partly in awe but also partly in disbelief. 

Everyone who’s anyone knows about Kim Seokjin; he’s one of the most famous time travelers throughout the universe, and the fact that you’ve heard about him since you were young and now he’s standing in front of you looking as young as ever really says a lot. Namely, this guy is good—like, really good. So good in fact that it made you kind of dislike the guy the more you heard his name. When you first completed your training to become a time traveler on your home planet of Earth, you had been so excited for what the universe had to offer. Diplomatic meetings, running from space monsters, traveling in your very own spaceship; you wanted it all. And as the top of your class in your space academy, you thought you could have it. But any time you did something, it was always “Oh well, did you hear that Kim Seokjin saved an entire planet from being eaten by a Weblum last week?” and “Good ol’ Seokjin’s already done that, gonna have to do something more impressive.” Seokjin this, Seokjin that. They always compared your results to his rather than being happy that you’re the first student in nearly 50 years to even come close to results like his. And now here you are, on a random planet meeting the one person you’re always compared to, and he’s stumbled out of a-

“What even is that?” you ask, pointing to the metal booth that he stepped out of only minutes ago. “I don’t think that that time machine is a standard issue.”

“Have you never seen a coin noraebang before?” he questions you in response, looking taken aback when you shake your head. “Seriously? You’ve never done karaoke with your friends at the arcade or anything? Popped in just to sing that one song that’s been stuck in your head all day?” You shake your head once more and he sighs. “You’re making me feel really old right now. Why don’t I just show you?”

He steps aside and offers to let you take the lead, the door to his ‘noraebang’ wide open but you can’t see anything at all except for darkness and a few blinking lights. Your eyes go back and forth between the machine and him, wondering if you should just make a run for it at this point. After everything you’ve heard about Kim Seokjin, you wish you had learned that he’s probably crazy. 

“You’re kidding, right?” you scoff as you gesture to the machine. “This thing barely looks like it fits you, how the hell is it supposed to fit the two of us?”

He places one foot over the threshold, both hands braced on the door frame on either side of him, and looks down at you curiously. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N); valedictorian of the class of 2193 at the Earth Space Academy, rookie time traveler but already making a name for yourself, and fluent in 17 languages on planet Earth alone. All of that and you can’t understand the basic concepts of wibbly wobbly, time-y wime-y stuff?”

“Of what?” you laugh. You notice his ears go red and can’t help but feel a bit endeared at his embarrassment. 

“Just get in here, will you,” he groans before entering the darkness. His hand pops out when you don’t immediately follow, shaking insistently at you, and you let out a reluctant sigh before grabbing it and allowing him to pull you inside.

You brace yourself as you step inside, fully expecting to slam right into him, but you’re met with nothing but air. When you open your eyes, you’re standing in a giant control room, buttons and levers surrounding multiple screens that display different universes, different angles of the noraebang, and different views of the city from where the machine sits. The ceilings are high with windows that allow the sunlight to come in and all around you are multiple doors leading to who knows where. Seokjin clears his throat after a few minutes of you staring around in awe and you jump because you had almost forgotten he was even there with you. 

“So,” he smirks as he runs a hand along one of the control panels. “Not the tiny metal booth that you thought it would be, huh?”

“I don’t understand,” you breathe out as you stretch your own hand out to run along the walls of the room. “How is this even possible? It’s- It’s bigger on the inside! This room itself is already bigger than I thought it would be but those doors-” You point to the doors around you, ignoring the look of amusement on Seokjin’s face. “Just how many rooms are there?”

He holds out a hand to you with a smile and gestures towards one of the doors on his right. “Care to take a look?”

You place your hand eagerly into his and allow him to give you a tour of his noraebang time machine. You walk through so many different rooms that it’s hard to remember what the previous one was like after you enter a new one, especially since Seokjin is telling you about different planets he’s visited and people he’s met while doing so. There are rooms for different environments and climates, rooms with animals, rooms for different time periods on different planets, normal rooms like bedrooms and bathrooms, and even a kitchen. He talks about planets completely covered by liquid nitrogen, lizard people living underground, and a purple elephant floating through space. There’s a game room, a movie theater, an observatory, a pool, and-

You hear feet scurry by behind you as Seokjin explains the physics behind the gravitational pull of Planet Haxor’s moons but when you turn around, all you see is a flash of hair and a shadow before it’s gone. Seokjin notices your distracted stare and looks at where you’re looking, but sees nothing.

“Sorry,” you apologize as you force your gaze away from the doorway across the hall and back to him. “I thought I saw something. Are you the only one in here? There’s no one else?”

He’s about to answer when you hear a dull thud and what you think sounds like a whispered “shit!” and you can’t help but edge closer to him. Seokjin laughs at the noise, but he sounds a bit nervous as he explains, “Oh that’s just my Flerken, that darned thing! I don’t know where she learned those bad words from. Anyways, that’s the end of the tour!” He ushers you out of the room and back to the main control room, his footsteps quick, and you wonder just what exactly he’s hiding. And who or what that was that you heard because you know for a fact that Flerkens can’t talk. “So what do you think?”

“What do I think?” you ask in response, your hands gesturing around vaguely as you look around the vast room once more. “I think that this is the weirdest day I’ve ever had and you’re probably the most insane but interesting person that I’ve ever met.”

Seokjin ponders over your words for a moment before shrugging. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyways, I was thinking that maybe we could-” A loud beeping noise interrupts him, numbers and symbols that you don’t recognize appearing on a screen that cause him to panic and jump into action. “Gonna need a rain check, I have to go. Gotta take care of some of that time-y wime-y stuff I was telling you about,” he explains as he’s pushing buttons and turning knobs. He waves his arm towards the doors and they open, revealing the bustling city sidewalk that you had been standing on- How long ago was it? An hour ago? A few minutes? It seemed like time had stopped the second you stepped foot into the noraebang. 

The time traveler all but shoos you out when he sees you lingering in his control room and he’s about to close the door on you when you block it with your hand. “One more question,” you say, hoping that he’ll oblige you. “I’m 100% certain that we’ve never met before so how do you know my name?”

He seems taken aback at the question but then a smirk appears on his face, one that you’ve become all too familiar with even though you’ve just met. “Spoilers,” he teases you as he brings a finger up to his lips before shutting the doors.

There’s a whirring sound and you step back from the machine, watching as a light begins to engulf it that grows brighter and brighter, so bright that you have to shield your eyes. There’s a whoosh! and when you look, Seokjin and his time machine are gone.

ii. daechwita mountains on the yoon planet in the year of 9-T-41

You watch with a frown as the acid snow and gigantic crystals continue to fall from the sky, mentally cursing your curious nature that led to you being stuck in a cave for the night. At least, you hope that it’s only for the night. You had been flying home after another successful mission when you realized that today was the day where all 5 of the Yoon Planet’s moons would line up for a quintuple lunar eclipse. You of course couldn’t miss out on this opportunity and thought that a little pit stop wouldn’t delay your plans too much. You were wrong obviously. And now here you are, in a cave on the top of one of the Daechwita Mountains, with only a jacket, the keys to your ship, three granola bars, and a half empty bottle of water. Just great. Leaning against the wall, you close your eyes and pray for a miracle. You don’t know exactly what but that’s the point, isn’t it? You’re not supposed to know until they happen?

As you begin to accept the reality of the situation, you let your mind wander to get yourself to calm down and your thoughts begin to drift towards a certain time traveler that you first met a few months ago. A certain, very confusing time traveler that is; with pretty brown eyes, the most infectious laugh you’ve ever heard, and-

Wait what, you interrupt yourself, physically shaking your head to get yourself to stop thinking… whatever it was that you were thinking. 

Back to Seokjin. You think that the universe must be playing some sort of trick on you now because ever since your first meeting, you seem to be running into the guy everywhere you go. The second time the two of you met, he had had no recollection of giving you a tour of his noraebang time machine. You had thought he was twisting your leg or something but when he informed you that he’s never even owned a Flerken before, you decided to just drop the subject. The more you ran into each other, the weirder Seokjin would get. Sometimes he would recall your previous meetings and his personality would be similar to the first time you met him; flirty, completely comfortable around you, and a bit loud and obnoxious. Other times, he would only recall a select few and his personality would be similar to the second time you met him; awkward, shy, and seems like he has no idea what he’s doing ever. Just as you were starting to wonder how long he was going to keep this charade going, he somehow found the answer to your unspoken question.

“Opposite timelines,” he said to you in lieu of a greeting, not bothering to explain further as he walked beside you in the busy marketplace. 

You struggled to keep up with him as you dodged and weaved around people and you watched as he plucked a purple book off of one of the stands, paid for it, and then handed it over to you. You looked down at the book in his hands and then up at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. You think he purposefully doesn’t elaborate on things for the dramatic effect, which is so very like him. He took your hand and placed the book in it before continuing to walk, this time making sure that you’re keeping up with him so that you heard what he was saying.

“Imagine two lines going in opposite directions,” he started off, trying his best to give you a simplified explanation because he knows that, even for a time traveler, sometimes this kind of stuff isn’t the easiest to understand. “Sometimes, the lines will intersect. Sometimes, one line will do a loop and circle back and intersect with the other line towards its beginning. That line is still going forward in time but in the context of the other line, it’s in the past. Does that make sense?”

You nodded along and looked down at the notebook, surprised to find that it had the exact same cover as the one that Seokjin pulled out when you first met him. You were about to ask him about it but refrained from doing so. If what he said is true and the two of you really do have opposite timelines, you could potentially cause problems if you brought up something specific that he doesn’t know about. “So what’s this for then?” you asked instead, gesturing to the book in your hands. 

“That is for you to keep track of each and every time that we meet,” he answered. “Make sure that it’s in your chronological order. That way, whenever it is that we meet again, we can compare journals and see where we are in each other’s timeline and it’ll help us know what not to talk about. Time has never been too fond of spoilers.”

It still makes your head hurt a bit whenever you think about it, but it has come in handy ever since he gave it to you. And you find that you do quite enjoy thinking about your adventures with Jin a lot—and thinking about Jin in general. The man practically lives in your mind rent free at this point with how often you think about him, it’s starting to get a bit ridiculous. But you know that it would never work out anyways. Aside from the whole opposite timelines thing, you can’t remember the last time you’ve heard about Jin returning to Earth. He’s always jumping off cliffs and running from planetary authorities but you? You have your family to think about, your job is what’s getting your brother through college right now. You have responsibilities, people who depend on you, a reputation to maintain. Jin would never understand.

You jump as a particularly large crystal hits the ground outside, shattering into smaller pieces with a deafening crack. And although the sudden sound is what initially makes you jump, it’s the scream accompanying it from outside that causes fear to flood your entire body. You watch as a figure enters the cave and approaches you, and you shakily hold up your water bottle in what you hope is a threatening position, praying that they mistake it for a weapon of some kind. They shine their flashlight in your face and you panic as you lose sight of them due to the blinding light, and you’re about to begin just thrashing around wildly to ward them off when you hear a familiar voice call out, “(Y/N)?”

You lower your water bottle as they lower their flashlight, and as your eyes adjust, you let out a sigh when you see that it’s just Seokjin. Wait- “Seokjin? What the hell are you doing here?” you ask incredulously. Out of all places for him to turn up…

“I could ask you the same question,” he answers as he gestures to your supplies, or lack thereof you should say. “Are you trying to die here or something? You don’t even have a full bottle of water.”

Seokjin sits beside you and puts a blanket around the two of you that he pulled from his backpack, and you don’t even feel any shame as you scoot closer to him, his body heat too tempting. “I stopped by after a mission because it’s the only time I could see the lunar eclipse,” you explain. “I didn’t bother checking the weather and before I knew it, the storm came and this was the only place I could go to for shelter.”

“You do realize you’re a time traveler, right?” Seokjin teases you, smiling as he takes the granola bar that you offer to him. “You could just look up all of the dates that Yoon has had a quintuple lunar eclipse and choose one to go to.”

“No unauthorized time traveling, remember?” you point out, wondering just how long it’s actually been since Seokjin graduated for him to already be forgetting the academy’s most basic rules. “They put trackers on our ships.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” he muses before crumpling up the wrapper in his hands and tossing it aside. “Guess that’s what happens when you become a time rogue and all-”

“Wait a second,” you interrupt him. Did he really just say what you think he said? “Did you just say that you’re a time rogue?”

He blinks at you slowly as if waiting for you to start laughing and tell him that you were joking. Instead, you stare directly back at him, the expression on your face still the same as you wait for him to tell you that he’s joking. That he wasn’t serious about being a wanted criminal because he’s broken at least one of the Universal Laws of Time and Space. 

“Yes, that’s what I said,” he answers. “Since around the time you graduated from the academy, I think. Last I heard, they’ve still been sending out emails about me and the incorrect anonymous tips that they get about my last known locations.”

“I haven’t checked my email since I became a traveler,” you admit sheepishly. “I just report back after a mission and then wait for Captain Namjoon to give me a new assignment.”

“Captain Kim Namjoon?” Seokjin asks and you look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“...Yes, Captain Kim Namjoon. Why?”

“That bastard,” he mutters before chuckling to himself. When you look over at him, he’s staring out into the storm and even though he’s right next to you, his gaze looks very far away. “I always knew he was cut out to be a captain. Never believed me though.”

You don’t say anything, knowing that he’s not talking to you, simply content to just sit beside him and watch the storm outside rage on. He begins to hum and as your eyes begin to close, you wonder if it’s one of those songs he would sing at karaoke with his friends before you fall asleep.

While you’re fast asleep on his shoulder, Jin grants himself the luxury of staring at you. You look so relaxed, so open, nothing like you are when you’re awake. He wishes he could save you, whisk you off to some faraway galaxy in his time machine where no one would ever find you. But he knows that that’s too good to be true. He knows your fate, has seen it with his own eyes, and he can’t mess with time, no matter how much he wants to. So he’ll give himself these few hours of your company while he waits for the storm to pass, let himself savor your presence before the guilt takes over. He just hopes that you can find it within yourself to forgive him for leaving you once more.

iii. orbiting around star bt21 in the vantae galaxy, year unknown

You grimace as you swallow the caffeine pill, hoping that it’ll kick in soon otherwise you’ll be falling asleep during this upcoming meeting. You mentally curse Namjoon for forcing you to fly all the way out to Planet Mang on one of your rare days off, wanting nothing more than to just turn around and fly back home so you can crawl back into bed. But no, you “have a job to do” and if you don’t go, you’ll “make the Space Academy look bad”. Whatever that means. You’re just one out of the five time travelers going to represent Earth, you don’t think it would be that bad if you didn’t show up. Namjoon didn’t like it when you brought this up though and threatened to bench you for the few upcoming missions, so you shut your mouth very quickly after that.

As you’re passing through Vantae Galaxy, you spot a familiar floating metal booth orbiting around the BT21 star. Now that you know that Seokjin’s a time rogue, you figure that he’s just been traveling all of time and space to see whatever sites he’d like to see but you didn’t take him for an average tourist. Everyone who’s anyone from the Space Academy knows that the popular star isn’t really worth the travel time that it takes to get there. But upon closer inspection, you see that it looks like the time machine isn’t even… on. As this discovery processes in your brain, you watch it float through space for a brief second before immediately jumping into action, grabbing your helmet and getting your ship as close as you can to Seokjin’s noraebang. 

Clinging on to the outside of your ship, you slowly make your way towards the door, hooking your ship up to Seokjin’s so that it doesn’t float away. You open the doors and place a foot on to the threshold, the machine’s artificial gravity taking effect as you step inside. You’re immediately hit by the cold that seems to have taken over the entire main control room, frost covering every surface and icicles even hanging from the ceiling. The entire machine seems to have powered down and you’re about to call out Seokjin’s name when you hear a thump from the other side of the circular control panel. You approach hesitantly, nervous for what you might find on the other side, but let out a breath of relief when you see that it’s just Seokjin.

But then you immediately begin to panic when you see that the thump was from him slumping over on to the floor. Running over to him, you frantically begin to shake him awake, hugging his body close to yours to give him some semblance of heat. “Jin,” you call out loudly as his head lolls on to your shoulder. “Seokjin, wake up!”

When nothing seems to be working, you heave him up with a grunt, tossing one of his arms over your shoulder before lugging him over to the doors. But as you pull on the handle, it doesn’t budge. You inspect the hinges and the edges for any ice or frost but find none. You pull on the door a couple of more times, panic beginning to rise as it resists. You set Seokjin down, leaning him against the wall, and take a deep breath. You look at your surroundings and then back at the man below you, hoping that some sort of idea will come to you. But nothing does.

You walk over to the control panel and begin looking over every button, hoping that maybe there’s just an “ON” button that you haven’t seen. As you’re desperately scanning the control panel for any sort of answer, you can’t help but think back to a conversation you had with Seokjin regarding his noraebang. He had been rambling on about some crystal that he found in the crust of one of Jupiter’s moons when he caught you leaning against the control panel. 

“Don’t lean against that!” he exclaimed, rushing over to shoo you away. “Jeongguk is sensitive, he doesn’t like when people do that.”

You spun in a circle after he said, looking around for this Jeongguk that he mentioned. Perhaps it was that person (or that Flerken, you should say) that you saw the first time Jin showed you his time machine? But you found yourselves completely alone. “Who’s Jeongguk?” you asked, knowing that he wouldn’t give you any sort of explanation unless you did.

“My noraebang,” he said as if it was obvious. “I named him Jeongguk. Does your ship not have a name?”

Is he being serious right now? you asked yourself as you stared at him and with the way that he went back to casually cleaning, you could only assume that he was. “No because it’s a machine, not a living thing.”

Jin gasped at that, pressing a hand up to the wide glass column that the circular control panel surrounds. “How dare you say that!” he said, eyes accusatory as he glared at you. He rubbed his hand along the glass, as if comforting the time machine as he cooed, “Don’t worry, Jeonggukkie, she’s just in a bad mood today is all. Of course she knows you’re alive.”

I’m friends with a crazy person.

Looking back on it even now, you still don’t believe that Seokjin’s time machine is “alive” like he said it is. But you’re desperate and Jin is starting to look paler by the minute so-

“Jeongguk please,” you whisper, your hand pressed against the glass as you stare at it. You don’t know what you expect to see and even if the time machine is alive, you don’t even know where its eyes could possibly be. “Please wake up.”

You look around but nothing seems to change. You run over to Jin and hold a finger up under his nose, your heart beginning to race when you feel his breaths become shallower and spaced out even more. “Jeongguk, wake up!” you yell out, your voice echoing around the large space. “Seokjin’s in trouble, please, you have to help him! I don’t know any of the controls, I don’t know how to do anything. So please you have to wake up, you have to save him!”

Nothing.

Sinking down to the floor, you feel tears prick at your eyes as you pull Jin closer to you. You shrug off your jacket and wrap it around him, the harsh cold immediately hitting you and causing you to shiver. Jin’s eyes open just the tiniest bit, his voice soft as he whispers, “(Y/N)? What are you doing?”

You just shake your head and wrap your arms around him, closing your eyes as you pray for some sort of miracle. All of a sudden, you hear a soft whirring sound and when you pick your head up, you see some lights on the control panel begin to flicker. With bated breath, you watch as the noraebang starts to come back to life and it feels like your soul leaves your body when you feel a blast of heat coming from the vent behind you. You quickly tug Seokjin off of the floor and carry him to the first bedroom that you find, tucking him in before finding a chair and a blanket for yourself. 

As you hold one of Seokjin’s hands between yours, you suddenly remember the diplomatic meeting you were supposed to be at. To hell with them, you think. One of your friends almost died, you think Namjoon will find it in him to understand. Your eyes trace over every feature of his face as he sleeps, and you once again struggle to push down the fondness and relief that you feel as you watch him. You know that this probably isn’t a good idea, letting yourself indulge in him in the way that you are. But just this once; just this one time you’ll allow yourself this.

You don’t remember falling asleep at Jin’s bedside but when you wake up, you find yourself seated in your ship. You wrack your brain but the memories of what just happened are a bit fuzzy. Even the feeling of the biting cold against your skin is fading.

Was it all a dream?

iv. in a bar on planet earth in the year 3004

The alcohol burns your throat as you swallow but you welcome the feeling, the dark cloud that’s been following you around all day finally beginning to clear up (figuratively of course, not to be confused with the actual dark cloud that was following you on Planet Gwangju). Nothing seemed to be going right that day, absolutely nothing had gone in your favor, so rather than go home and sleep off the long  day as you usually do, you decided to go to the one bar that seems to stay in business no matter what year it is. There’s a couple on stage singing along to an old song (ancient’s more like it, you think the DJ said it was from 2091) but you ignore their off-key yelling in favor of waving down the bartender. 

“Another, please,” you say, not even looking in his direction as you scan your watch to pay for your drink. 

“You know, there is such a thing as an open tab,” the bartender says wryly as he mixes your drink. “I know that it’s an ancient concept but it still works pretty well.”

You roll your eyes before finally making eye contact with Yoongi, the both of you smiling at each other the second your eyes meet. That’s the other thing that doesn’t change about this bar, it’s always had your same favorite AI bartender. He was a bit confused at first as to whether or not you were also an AI because apparently the first time he met you was in 2398 but when you became of age and found the place with your friends from the academy, it was 2192 and you looked a lot younger than the first time. You explained to him that you were a time traveler so he must have met the future version of you and after a bit more explaining, he concluded that you were not in fact a fellow AI. So now whenever you come into the bar, always at the same time of night, Yoongi welcomes you with his classic small but fond smile, not even asking what you’d like to drink because he already knows. 

“I have self-control, Yoon,” you scoff as you grab the drink that he places in front of you. “I don’t have an open tab because I don’t need one. I’m going to stop drinking soon.”

“Yeah well that frown on your face and faraway look in your eyes tells me otherwise,” Yoongi points out. Before you can respond though, another person calls him over and he walks away without a word.

“I don’t have a frown on my face,” you mutter to yourself before looking up at the mirror placed behind all of the alcohol bottles at the bar only to find that you do indeed have a frown on your face. 

You sigh as you look away, eyes roaming over the people seated as well as on the dance floor, and you can’t help but feel a bit disgusted at the fact that the majority of them are couples. Usually you don’t even pay attention to that kind thing but you know exactly why you are right now. It’s the same reason you’ve been sad this entire week, the same reason you’ve started to question the Space Academy, the same reason your heart beats faster and butterflies appear in your stomach: Kim Seokjin. Since you saved him in the Vantae Galaxy about two months ago (which you now know to be real because you can’t find that jacket anywhere so it must be in his noraebang), you haven’t seen nor heard from him. No “thank you for saving my life”, no “hey sorry for leaving you literally every single time we meet”, not even a “who are you, have we met before?” You’d rather take a clueless, younger Seokjin than absolute radio silence. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see two large figures approaching you and heave out another sigh. You’re in no mood to be hit on or even threatened right now so you reach for the knife hidden in your jacket, but just as your hand touches the handle, an arm wraps around your waist and an annoyingly familiar voice exclaims quite loudly, “There you are, sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You look up and who do you see but none other than Jin in the flesh. His ears are bright red to match the color on his neck, and he takes no notice in you staring at his drunken figure as he glares at the two men while they hastily retreat. “Okay they’re gone,” you mutter when you see no sign of them, your voice a bit venomous as you push him away from you. “You can stop touching me now.”

There’s a look of vague surprise on his face when you push him away followed by resignation but it’s quickly followed up by a warm smile. You don’t know how he does it. “It’s great to see you, (Y/N)! How long has it been? Do you have your journal on-”

“Vantae Galaxy at the BT21 star,” you interrupt him to answer his unasked question. You don’t even need your journal anymore. You know your timeline to a T now; every single encounter with Seokjin, down to the planet and the year. “That’s the last time I saw you.”

His eyes widen at that and you pretend not to be hurt when he schools his features back to his happy-go-lucky personality. “Ah yes! The BT21 star, a marvelous star really. A bit tourist-y but you know, it wouldn’t be a popular tourist attraction if it wasn’t good.”

You only nod at his words, downing half of your drink to get rid of the bitter taste in your mouth. You make eye contact with Yoongi across the bar and you watch as he slightly tilts his head in Jin’s direction, and you silently laugh before subtly shaking your head. It’s nice of him to offer to save you, and part of you wants to take the offer, but you don’t need it. Not yet anyways. 

“So,” you say to break the awkward silence, and you almost laugh at the way Jin jumps slightly in his seat, as if he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him. If you were him, you’d be surprised too with how coldly you’re treating him. “Why are you here?”

You order more drinks for the two of you as he tells you some story about a haunted dollhouse, an adopted alien orphan, demon dolls, and unknowing human parents. The alcohol seems to make him more animated and a lot louder as he talks, but the warm feeling that you get remains in your stomach as all of your anger slowly dissipates. You can’t find it in yourself to stay mad at him at this moment. His eyes are shining, his laughter is infectious, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the room. You don’t even notice when he stops talking but you definitely do notice when he rushes forward and kisses you right on the mouth.

His lips are soft, a bit chapped, but you welcome the feeling; well as much as you can when you’re frozen in shock. He pulls away when you don’t kiss him back, his eyes as big as saucers while his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “I- I’m so sorry, oh my god- I don’t know what- oh shit-” he stammers out but you’re barely listening as you bring your fingers up to your lips because you know that the tingling you feel in them is definitely not from the alcohol.

You look up and Seokjin is still stuttering out apologies, his entire upper torso (from what you can see of it) red from both intoxication and embarrassment at what he just did. He’s so absorbed in trying to apologize that he doesn’t even notice you lean towards him until you’re practically nose to nose. He breathes out a, “What-”

And then you kiss him right on the mouth. You place a hand on his chest as you kiss him and he raises up two shaking hands to gently cup your face, and you smile against his lips when you hear him take a shuddering inhale through his nose. His hands slide down your neck, across your shoulders, to your back and you feel yourself practically melt when he pulls your body closer to his. Your hand fists at the fabric of his shirt and you’re about to step closer to him when he pulls away. Seokjin’s pupils are blown wide and he’s panting as he stares down at you like you just showed him all of the secrets of the universe.

“I- We-We’re in public, we shouldn’t-” he stutters out breathily, looking around as if to make sure no one is staring. Not that you could find it in yourself to care right now with the combination of adrenaline and alcohol running through your veins.

“This one’s on the house if the two of you leave after,” Yoongi mutters as he slides two more shots to you. “Can’t have you disgusting lovebirds ruining my bar like this.” Yoongi’s voice sounds disgusted but you can see the amusement in his eyes as he hands you an opportunity on a silver platter.

You throw the shot back and look at Jin who’s still looking at you like you’re a completely different person. “I know exactly where we can go,” you say with a wide smile. You lean closer and smirk at the man in front of you. “For some privacy, that is.”

Seokjin throws the shot back. “Lead the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly it is that wakes you up—the sunlight coming in through the crack in the curtains, your sore body, or the draft entering your cocoon of blankets—but you know that the pounding headache you’re experiencing definitely has something to do with it. You hear the clanking of metal and turn your head, eyes closing once more when you see that it’s just Seokjin putting his pants on.

Wait-

Your eyes fly open and you pick your head up when you realize that Seokjin is putting his clothes on in your hotel room. Every muscle and bone in your body protests as you slowly sit up and you see Jin’s movement stop when he notices that you’re awake. Your gaze meets his and you feel your stomach drop because the look in his eyes is so unfamiliar to you, you can’t gage what he’s feeling at all. You look at his wrinkled shirt, the pants that are only half on, and his bedhead as the events from last night slowly start coming back to you. 

“I know exactly where we can go for some privacy.”

Oh shit.

“Good morning,” he finally greets you as he slowly pulls his pants up over his thighs. “I didn’t think you were awake. Did you sleep well?”

“Where are you going?” you ask, completely ignoring everything he just said. You know exactly what’s about to happen and you wish you didn’t because then maybe you wouldn’t have to be fighting the urge to cry right now.

“Oh uh, I have an important meeting to get to that I forgot about,” Seokjin answers. His voice is a bit higher and wavers a bit at the end and you wish he would just tell you the truth for once.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you,” you say, more of a statement than a question. And he knows exactly what you mean because he doesn’t answer, only continues to fiddle with the buttons on his sleeve. “I’m not letting you leave me behind again, Seokjin.”

He freezes at that and when he looks up at you, you feel your heart crack right down the middle because of how guilty he looks. “(Y/N)-”

“I know you feel it too,��� you plead. Your voice sounds so desperate but it’s because you are. You’ll do anything to try to get him to stay. Just this once. “I’ve never felt this for anyone else the way that I feel about you, Jin. So why are you running away?”

He slowly begins to back away and you jump out of bed with the blanket held tightly to your chest. “(Y/N), please, don’t make this harder for me than it needs to be,” he requests, his voice pained though his eyes never leave you.

“It doesn’t have to be hard at all!” you argue, unable to keep your voice at a normal volume as you feel yourself growing more and more frustrated and more and more desperate. “Just stay. Here. With me. Why do you insist on leaving me?”

Jin grimaces at your question as he reaches behind him and slowly turns the door handle. “I guess it’s just what I do. Spoilers,” he shrugs and the way he just casually says that makes you want to throw up blood.

The door shuts behind him and you’re left standing in the middle of your hotel room. There are tears in your eyes, your head is pounding, and there’s only a thin blanket covering your naked body but you still run towards the door and throw it open. “Jin!” you yell out, but when you look down both sides of the hallway, he’s nowhere to be found.

v. koya prison in the year RJ-17

Thirty minutes have gone by and you’re still clueless as to what the hell is going on around you. The prison guards don’t even try to understand what you’re saying, all of the other inmates are either fighting or laughing with each other, and the guy that was taken in for questioning has been gone for fifteen of those minutes. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to help out a bunch of vigilantes but what can you say? You root for the underdog. You walk over to one of the guys that was leading the group, kicking his leg and disturbing him of the nap he seemed to think was an excellent idea to be taking right now.

“Hey, what the fuck’s going on?” you ask harshly, frustrated at the fact that you literally couldn’t understand the language of the majority of the people around you. You pride yourself on knowing a number of languages known across multiple galaxies, but of course you happen to land in a prison where none of that matters. This usually wouldn’t be a problem if you were wearing your watch, which is able to translate what others say to you and vice versa, but of course, they confiscated that as soon as you were admitted.

“My buddy’s in there getting interrogated right now,” he answers gruffly while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “But don’t worry, he knows what to do. We’ve trained for situations like this, he’ll get us out. Nobody’s getting executed today.”

“Executed?” you shriek, causing some people to turn around and look over at you. You smile weakly at them before crouching down so that you’re face-to-face with the guy, and you’re sure that the panic that you’re feeling right now is very evident. “Nobody said anything about getting executed.”

He gives you a look of disdain, and if you weren’t in such a tight spot, you’d probably feel offended. Part of you still does. “We led a failed revolution to overthrow a government, what did you think was going to happen? They’d keep us here for the night and then give us a slap on the wrist before letting us go?”

Before you can even begin to think of a response, the man who was being interrogated is returned to the cell and says something to everybody that causes them to cheer. They all begin to gather towards the door and you follow suit, assuming that this means that their plan worked and you’re all free to go. But when he sees you making your way with the rest of them, he roughly pushes you back with a shake of his head.

“What are you doing?” you demand as you try to get around him, but he just continues to block your path. “Stop playing around, let’s leave.”

He says something to the other guy that you don’t understand and watch as they slowly begin to leave, their eyes never leaving you. “So he managed to negotiate with the warden like I said. But the only way we’re allowed to go free is if you stay and get executed in our place, Holy Leader.”

“‘Holy Leader’?” you repeat. “What the fuck are you talking about? We did not agree on this, you guys are the ones who came up with this whole thing, I just offered to help!” You run forward to stop them but before you could even try to pull them back inside, they slam the cell door shut right in front of your face.

The actual leader just smirks at you, the prison guards none the wiser as to what’s going on. “While I’d love to help, I’d love to see my family even more. Rest in peace.”

You shake the bars of the cell door as they walk away, yelling and cursing at them until they’ve turned the corner at the end of the hallway. Panic rises in your chest and everything you’ve ever learned is suddenly gone from your head. You have absolutely no idea what to do. Nobody knows that you’re there, you have no means of escape, and not a single person in this entire prison understands you when you speak.

I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of this.

The door opens and two prison guards make their way into the cell, grabbing you under your arms and dragging you out into the hallway. “Where are you taking me?” you shriek as you try to fight them off. You wriggle around in their grip but it’s no use, they’re too strong. “Where are you taking me? Please, you’ve got the wrong person! I didn’t know, please! Contact the Space Academy, ask for Captain Kim Namjoon, he’ll explain everything! Let me go!”

There are tears streaming down your face as you continue to struggle but you know that it’s no use. This is the end for you. You let your head hang as you finally give up, letting the guards drag your practically lifeless body through the halls towards wherever it is that they’re taking you. Sunlight comes in through the windows and when you look out, you see a stage out in a courtyard, a singular chair in the center of it. Even from here you can see the dried blood on it, and you struggle to keep yourself from throwing up.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar laugh and you don’t think you’ve been more relieved or happy to hear his laugh than in this moment. You look up and see Seokjin walking along with the prison warden, a wide smile on his face as he converses with her. “Jin!” you call out and immediately his eyes meet yours. “Seokjin! Help me! Tell them it’s all a big misunderstanding!”

His head tilts to the side a bit as he looks at you in confusion, and when he comes closer to you, you don’t see even the tiniest bit of recognition in his eyes. “I’m sorry, but how do you know my name?” he asks, and the feeling of horror that consumes you is overwhelming. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”

The warden ushers Jin ahead, saying, “Don’t waste your time talking to the prisoners, Mr. Kim, especially this one. She is to be executed today for leading a revolution against the Cree.”

You can’t even bring yourself to say anything more, exhaustion taking over your entire body at the revelation that there is truly no way out. Because of course, out of all times for Seokjin to not know who you are, out of all times in the past month that you wished he didn’t know you ever since he left you, this is the one time you need him the most. The guards drag you through the courtyard and secure you to the chair, the stench of blood and other bodily fluids making you almost gag. The stands begin to fill and you watch in horror as right in front of you, the warden escorts Seokjin into her private booth. His eyes are unfamiliar as he looks down at you and any feeling that you have left leaves your body.

You close your eyes and await your fate, not sure how long you would have to wait for the show to start. You pray to all of the gods and deities across the cosmos that they watch over your family, that Captain Namjoon isn’t too mad at you for getting yourself executed, and that wherever Seokjin is—your Jin—he’s safe. The warden’s voice bellows out across the courtyard as she announces something that you don’t understand, the whoops and hollers of the audience that follows almost deafening. Heavy footsteps approach you but you keep your eyes shut; the panic that’s bubbling up will only get worse if you meet your death head on. 

The courtyard goes silent and a single tear escapes as you hold your breath in anticipation, but a loud bang startles it right out of you. When you open your eyes, there’s smoke everywhere and absolute chaos as fires rage around you. There’s yelling and a stampede of footsteps as everyone scatters, completely ignoring you in your helpless state as you struggle to release yourself of the cuffs that hold you down. A hand reaches out and you try your best to move away from them, thinking that it must be the executioner still trying to do their job.

But even amongst the frenzied crowd with their yelling and the gunshots that you can hear all around you, there’s a voice that’s bright as day, one that you would recognize no matter what: “It’s just me, sweetheart. I’m here.”

You turn your head to find Jin frantically working at the cuffs around your wrist, too concentrated on freeing you that he doesn’t even notice you staring. This isn’t the Seokjin that you saw up in the stands. No, this is Jin, your Jin, the man you thought you would never see again, the man you would gladly let shatter your heart into pieces if it meant you got to spend one more day with him. He’s there, at your side, to rescue you.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” you breathe out, too overwhelmed by everything that’s going on around you to speak up. “How are you-”

“I’m tired of leaving you behind,” he answers, not even looking at you as he finally frees your wrists and begins to work on the cuffs around your ankles. “The first time I met you, I watched you die right in front of me. And I had to live with that, knowing your fate every time I met you after.”

Jin pulls you up out of the chair and pulls you close to him, both of his hands taking yours as he looks into your eyes. “I couldn’t just let the girl that I fell in love with die. Maybe that’s selfish of me, but I’m tired of running away. The only running I want to do is with you.”

At that, you feel yourself begin to float off the ground, and you let out a startled laugh when you see that the two of you are in fact rising up. Jin points above you with a grin and you look up to see his noraebang with a gravitation beam pointed at the two of you. Nobody notices as the two of you escape and above all of the fire and smoke, you see soldiers and prisoners alike fighting off the prison guards. 

“Who are all of these people?” you ask, not recognizing the armor that they wear or the emblems that they display.

“I called in a few friends, cashed in some favors,” he shrugs and although his words sound nonchalant, the smile on his face is as bright as the sun itself. “Had to get the very best if I was going to save you.”

As you get closer and closer to the noraebang, you hear Jin’s voice from down below, and you see the Seokjin that was up on the stands with the warden fighting off the soldiers, shirt torn and blood streaked across his face as he escorts people to safety. And it’s only then that you realize the gravity of the situation.

“Wait,” you say while placing a hand on his chest. “Jin, you can’t do this. You just- You changed my timeline, you came back to the past to rescue me. That breaks like every single time rule that exists in every galaxy. Everyone will be after us. Time itself will be after us. We can’t run away from time.”

Jin’s eyes look determined as he looks at you, one hand grabbing hold of the door to his time machine to pull himself up. “We’re time travelers,” he laughs as he pulls you in with him. “Isn’t that what we do?”

vi. flying through outer space, galaxy and year unknown

“I’m starting to believe that you being at the top of your class was a lie,” Jin snickers as he looks through your journal. “Are you still not understanding it?”

“Well when you use words like ‘time-y wime-y’, it’s a bit hard,” you grind out, trying to recall what meeting with Seokjin in your past could have triggered your alternate timeline.

After escaping from Koya Prison, the first thing on your agenda before traversing the cosmos while simultaneously running from every single authority out there is to ensure that your alternate timeline happens. Jin had explained that your future version of himself (or the current version of himself as he clarified but which only made you even more frustrated as you tried to understand) had to have come back to your past in order to steer you in the right direction. You think back to every instance you’ve seen him and any moment that stood out to you.

Your eyes widen when you realize and you grab your journal and Jin’s to compare them, letting out a noise of disbelief when you see one entry in yours that you don’t see in his. The one event that no version of him has ever remembered no matter how much you try to get him to recall it.

“No wonder,” you mutter before rushing over and putting in the date and coordinates of the exact location.

“‘Planet Busan’?” he reads, eyebrows furrowed as he watches you set all of the controls. “What the hell is on Planet Busan?”

The noraebang shakes around a bit as you travel through the wormhole, and the two of you stumble a bit as it lands on solid ground. You tap one of the screens to check that it’s the correct location and chuckle to yourself when you see your past self making your way through the crowd that gathered around. You push Jin towards the door with your journal and are just about to open it when he stops you.

“What, no plan?” he asks, thoroughly confused as to what could be going on inside your head. “You’re just going to throw me outside without telling me what’s going on?”

“Just trust me,” you say as you shake your head. There’s still a skeptical look on his face but you feel his shoulders deflate a bit. “Just go out there and be your usual charming self.”

You push him out the door and watch as everyone gasps when he emerges, a fond smile appearing on your face when you watch him approach you with a “Stunned to see me, sweetheart?” You walk away while he converses with the past version of yourself, looking at all of the screens to make sure that you weren’t followed by anyone. Jin’s voice gets louder and you realize that he’s bringing you inside so you dart into the other room, careful to make sure that you’re not spotted by your past self. You follow along to ensure that it’s all happening the way that you remember, part of you a bit nostalgic at seeing your younger self. You miscalculate the timing at one point and dart behind yourself, practically throwing your body into another room so as not to be seen, causing you to bump into a shelf and drop one of Jin’s many souvenirs.

“Shit!” you hiss, hand slapping over your mouth after from how loud you were.

“Oh that’s just my Flerken, that darned thing! I don’t know where she learned those bad words from. Anyways, that’s the end of the tour!” You hear Jin laugh nervously as he escorts you back to the main control room and you let out a breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding.

The alarm begins to sound and you rush back, entering the control room just as your past self exits. “A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Jin teases you as his hands fly over the controls. “We’ve got bigger problems though so I think that’s our cue to leave.”

He turns to you with a mischievous grin on his face, finger poised over a button as he asks, “So where to first?”

[navyhyuck]

week two | previous | masterlist | next

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃, 𝐉𝐀𝐘.

↳ a love letter a week, and it has you wondering who’s your secret admirer. you have nine weeks, eight candidates, and one story to live. will you find out who your ‘jay’ is?

a/n :: here’s part two my sexy friends, i’ll be starting to add a little warnings tag from now on because parts will start to get longer and may include some triggering topics!!

wc :: 2.9k (i’m sorry it’s getting longer and longer i know)

warnings: mentions of sex (kinda, not explicit), a singular mention of death, someone’s borderline a bully but not quite (they’re just mean)

taglist: @childofthecycle @the8luvr @staywrites @chocolattees @cloudzume @babytoadz @cherrystay @sandaigdigan-reads @hoes4hoseok @ctrlaltfangirl @kodzu-ken @xazucaradictax @qtieskz @blueprint-han

couldn’t tag: @x-dawna-x

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

You’re listening to Ryujin go on and on about Han Jisung at practically 6 a.m. (okay, it was around halfway to 8 o’clock, but her words were making you lose track of time), your head resting against the cool metal of the locker, almost wishing you were banging your head against it instead. As much as you knew your friend had a thing for the boy, you never thought you’d be stuck in the middle listening to her over analyzing everything that happened in English the day before. Sure, the precarious boy could be outstanding at pipetting in chemistry, but his social skills weren’t the best. Or at least, they weren’t the best with you.

“Anyway, I’ll shut up now, you look like you just watched The Conjuring and threw up on yourself.” She exclaims rather dryly, and you raise your head, glimpsing at the questioning look on her face. “By the way, that movie was shit. I’ll get to the point, then. I was gonna ask who you’re going to homecoming with.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at both the comment on one of your favorite horror movies ever (that you’ve watched four times already, each time with the same girl who insists it’s not scary but ends up peeking past her fingers anyway) and homecoming. “Myself,” you reply, returning your head to its original position. “Do I look like the kind of person that would go to homecoming with a date? Really?”

“You went last year,” she points out, and you realize it’s true with a groan. It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t refuse the captain of the basketball team when he proposed the idea in the middle of the cafeteria, halfway through the sixth period. Honestly, San wasn’t too bad anyway, he just wanted to have some fun with a girl that wasn’t following after him in the general sheep crowd; after the night was over, however, you swore to yourself that you would never come to a dance voluntarily wearing stilettos without one of your go-to friends. “And you liked it. Plus, I was thinking, we should all get dates this year! You know, since it’s our senior year and all. You won’t have another hoco to miss after this one.”

“Get dates? You’re acting like it’s buying takeout.” 

“It basically is,” she shrugs. “You go out, ask for something from someone, and they either give it to you or not. Though I’m not really sure if restaurants are allowed to refuse service.”

 “We could just all go as friends,” you suggest, finally opening up your locker. “As great as having some random dude as my date, no thanks. Like you said, it’s our last year. And hoco’s been fun since freshman year for us anyway, what’s the point of setting us up with dudes when we’re just gonna ditch them?”

“Who said I’m gonna ditch my date?”

“Me, I just did,” you deadpan, shuffling through your books to grab onto your chemistry lab book and stuffing it into your bag. “Remember sophomore year? Yeah, you might not want to remember it, but I do. Lee Daehwi?” She groans at the sound of the familiar name, making you chuckle.

“Okay, fair enough, but I’m not gonna ditch my date this time. Not if I get the one I want.” Ryujin smacks your arm to grab your attention, making you hiss before you see the knowing look on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows. You cross your arms in confusion, trying to scan and rescan her face for hints to what she was getting at, but when your mind finally clicks, you freeze. And then, your jaw drops. “Shut up.”

“I-I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you’re gonna say!” She points at you, shaking her finger before bringing it back down. “Look, like you said, it’s senior year. I don’t have a chance, really, not after this one. Either I ask him out for homecoming in the next week or I mope around for the rest of my life regretting not going to a high school dance with the hottest guy in school. Yeah, okay, I guess that kinda does sound a little pathetic.”

You consider it for a moment, imagining how awkward the interaction between Ryujin’s infamous crush and her would be; there would be a whole lot of tripping at the feet and ten times the amount of stuttering. Plus, you’re sure that the boy didn’t have the heart capacity to receive a request without passing out cold. He’s a little fragile after all. “You think Jisung’s the hottest guy in school?”

“Duh, who else do you think? That Hyunjin dude? Yeah, maybe, I saw him a few times in the past few days, but so what? People just get hyped over some guy whenever they come to the school and like four days later he’s no longer a cool transfer student and just ‘the guy next to me in calculus.’” You give her a look, one that you hope resembles something that conveyed the message of ‘you just brought up Hyunjin completely unprovoked’ but she doesn’t budge, her eyes trailed on her nails as she continues. “...and I’ll ask Jisung. Chaeryoung said she’s going with that other guy from your chem, whatever his name was, him. So then, it’s just you.”

You’re reminded suddenly of the letter that you pulled from your locker a few days earlier, the one that followed after the previous introduction and pleaded for you to attend the dance. Even if the letter had never arrived, you were planning on it anyway, but now, you had a purpose. “I don’t really want a date,” you say carefully, your eyes darting across the busy hallway before focusing on the blue of your best friend’s hair. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe, whatever. I don’t feel like stressing out about asking someone, so maybe if someone asks me, I'll be their date. But don’t count on it, alright?”

Ryujin narrows her eyes at you, as if searching for something underneath (something that wasn’t there, you’d like to point out, but she’s still looking intently) before humming. “Alright, sure.” She finishes abruptly, clearly wanting to add onto her sentence but refraining from doing so, making you raise an eyebrow at her shenanigans.

“Spit it out, c’mon, I know you have more to say.”

Your best friend gives you a deadly look but considers it, resting her back against the lockers before turning back to you. “Okay, this is just a thought, got it? Just something running through my head right now that I want to share.”

You cross your arms. “A thought? You? Thinking? Well, that’s no good.”

“Shut up and listen to me first,” she waves you off, shuffling closer until you can see the glimmer of her eyeshadow smudged on the side of her winged eyeliner. “Think about this. You, Y/N, a beautiful girl with absolutely no intention on going to homecoming with a date because of the lack of attraction towards snotty teenage boys, asking the Hwang Hyunjin, a transfer student that’s extremely good-looking and apparently affectionately kind who has no intention on going to homecoming with a date because of the lack of connection with beautiful girls, to homecoming.”

You blink twice, looking up at the ceiling as you quietly process her words. It’s a bit jumbled in your head, but once you think it’s clear enough, you look at her. “Ryujin. May I express my feelings about this ‘thought?’”

She scans you up and down, and then nods.

“It’s absolute bullshit.”

“Hey!”

“I hate my life,” you say to yourself as you swing open the door of your car, stepping out rather impatiently onto the asphalt. Having forgotten to grab your psychology notebook at the end of the day, you found yourself taking an unwanted U-turn back to the school to pick it up; in your defense, you would rather maintain your A in the class even if you had to stop by the gas station on your way back. Like you were told, a class requires commitment.

You march your way into the school once again, wondering why the school officials never thought to add any precautionary measures to the buildings. It makes you wonder if someone had ever snuck onto campus since you were a freshman. From the very deep memories of your sophomore year, you remember a junior at that time sneaking in one of his friends during finals week thinking he’d get away with it. Honestly, Juyeon was something else.

Just as you make your way to your locker, you quietly scroll through your phone distractedly before seeing a text pop up in your infamous group chat.

[3:05 p.m.] chaechaer: guess what guys!! :D

[3:05 p.m.] praying mantis: don’t wanna guess

[3:05 p.m.] hwangji: she’s finally getting dick 

[3:05 p.m.] chaechaer: i’ll fucking bite you yeji.

[3:06 p.m.] hwangji: bite me baby i wanna see you try

[3:06 p.m.] you: spill c’mon

[3:07 p.m.] praying mantis: y/n.

[3:07 p.m.] praying mantis: why are you at school right now

[3:07 p.m.] chaechaer: gasp

[3:07 p.m.] chaechaer: looks like i’m not the only one getting dick

[3:08 p.m.] you: oh fuck off, i came back bc i forgot something

[3:08 p.m.] you: wait did you just say ‘not the only one’

[3:09 p.m.] hwangji: so you ARE getting dick???

[3:09 p.m.] hwangji: spill mf, right now

[3:09 p.m.] you: ryujin, are you checking my snap location rn??? hello?? 

[3:10 p.m.] praying mantis: ofc i am, i’m your guardian angel :)

[3:10 p.m.] you: you’re a stalker

[3:10 p.m.] praying mantis: but whose dick are you getting? that’s the real question 

You roll your eyes as hard as you can, hoping that your best friend would know even from a distance. Just as you continue to tap furiously into the glass of your phone, you’re suddenly hit by your left shoulder, sending you flying down to the ground in an instant. “Shit,” you whisper under your breath, brushing your hair out of your eyes well enough to look up and see that the hard object you just ran into wasn’t a wall. In fact, it was a human.

“Watch where you’re going,” the boy snaps at you, rather loudly in fact, making you flinch as you slowly stand up, gathering your phone. “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t on your phone. Who walks in a hallway with their head down like that? Do you want to die?”

It takes you a minute to realize who’s actually standing in front of you, and it’s only when you’ve managed to gulp down his harsh words. Seo Changbin. He looks at you from head to toe, the scowl still evident on his face when your eyes widen. Suddenly, you’re a little more aware of yourself, shifting uncomfortably in his gaze as he doesn’t move. 

“Well?” He crosses his arms across his chest, now approaching you. “I don’t hear an apology.”

You instinctively back away, avoiding the boy’s eyes before you’re looking right back into them. If you weren’t mistaken, there was no one in front of you until there was, and there was no way that you could’ve ran into someone without noticing their presence earlier. Scoffing, you mimic his posture, looking behind him to see if you’re right about your assumption. In fact, you are, seeing the door of the locker room staring right back at you. “Me? Shouldn’t you be watching where you’re going?”

Changbin looks taken aback by your retaliation, somehow making his forehead lines fall into a straight line. “Don’t talk back to me, bitch.”

“Bitch?” You want to laugh, but instead, you press a smile down. “Seriously? Who do you think you are?”

You’re honestly appalled at the way the admired swimmer is acting towards you, but you’re not surprised. You would be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t in the faintest surprised. The entire team could act like a handful of bullies that didn’t have any other free time on their hands, if you looked into it more. Changbin seems to be dissatisfied with your answer, closing in on you as your back presses against the wall. 

“What did you say to me?” 

You’re about to respond with an equally harsh answer but there’s a sudden call of Changbin’s name from the end of the hallway, making the both of you turn your heads. Yet another swimming team member comes jogging your way, sporting a school branded shirt that tells you exactly what he’s part of. The boy stops a few feet away from the two of you, a large smile spreading across his face as he looks from Changbin to you. You scratch your head. Is Bang Chan currently standing in front of you? Or was it just a figment of your imagination?

“Hi! What’s your name?” He asks, coming closer before glancing over at Changbin and stopping. “W-What? Wait, what? What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Changbin defends immediately, making you raise an eyebrow as he holds up his palms. “I didn’t! Nothing happened, Chan. It’s all good. Let’s just go now.”

Chan doesn’t budge when he grabs onto his arm, tugging to pull him away, but he instead focuses his attention on you. His smile persists. “Hi sweetheart, judging from the look on your face, he did do something, right?”

You’re taken aback at his soft voice, a complete contrast from what you just heard from the other boy. Pursing your lips, you try not to let your cheeks flame up. Sweetheart? “It’s nothing—he just ran into me and tried to pin the whole thing on me—it’s all good, really. I’m fine, I didn’t get hurt. So…”

“You didn’t get hurt? But he ran into you?” Chan shoots Changbin a sharp look, one that looks much darker than the gaze he returns to you. “Are you okay? It might’ve been a hard fall. I can take you to the nurse’s office, if you’d like?”

“N-No, it’s fine!” You shake your hands in refusal, an awkward chuckle leaving your lips. Chan only laughs brightly in response, his entire face somehow appearing ten times more charming than before. You notice with another fleeting glimpse that there are dimples that crease into his skin as he smiles, now making your heart do an unidentifiable leap inside your chest. “Um, okay, I actually have to go now! I’ll, uh, yeah! Bye!”

You turn in your heel, trying to walk at a casual but extremely quick pace at the same time, which proves to be difficult. Just as you’re about to turn at the corner, there’s a shout from down the hall.

“Hey!” Peaking your head back, you see Chan waving his hand at you. “What’s your name?!”

“Y/N!”

“Nice to meet you Y/N! I hope to see you around!”

Gulping, you lean back against one of the lockers near yours, placing a hand over your chest as you finally notice the thumping. You take a deep breath, shaking your head a few times to get the entire situation out of your head; it doesn’t work, not with your brain taking you back to that exact moment once again. You just spoke to one, no, scratch that, two extremely talented swimming players with your own two eyes. And perhaps the rapid beating of your heart wasn’t just because one of them was being nice to you. But you wouldn’t admit that now, would you?

dear y/n love,

hi hi! i’ve missed talking to you (yes, i know, there’s no way you can respond to me, but anyway), but this letter will be unfortunately short today. please don’t think too much of it! my class is about to end, haha.

i saw you at one of the swimming meets a few days ago, and oh my god, i really couldn’t take my eyes off of you. i don’t know if anyone has ever told you, y/n, but you are so beautiful. i remember what you were wearing; was it...a black shirt? and jeans, oh yes. your sense of style is so simple yet somehow so perfect. i couldn’t even take my eyes off of you, oh god, i remember all my friends yelling at me to pay attention but all i was doing was staring at you. sounds like a problem, huh? but i enjoy it. shit, this sounds kinda creepy again, doesn’t it? i’m so sorry, love, that’s not what i was going for. i just...really admire you. a lot.

also, the homecoming game is this weekend! i hope you end up going, you can even go with your friend! the blue-haired one, yeah, ryujin, i think. that’s her name, right? oh god, you probably think i’m even weirder now that i just told you that i know your friend. fuck. anyway. 

once again, i hope to see you there! there’s something waiting for you there and i want to be able to surprise you, even if i don’t want to reveal my identity just yet. see you soon, love.

signed, jay

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ. 

“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.

(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)

“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”

“You said that six seasons ago.”

Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”

“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.

Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.

(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)

“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”

A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.

Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)

Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.

Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.

“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s… uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”

“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.

“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”

“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.

“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”

Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.

“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”

“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.

“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.

Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.

 Childe

12:35

ur a horrible influence on tonia

 Childe

12:35

and whos this ZHONGLI

 Childe

12:35

also is twd appropriate for 12 y/os

 Twin 1

12:37

a normal person would say hi

 Twin 1

12:37

also 1. me n aether watched it when we were 12 so probably and 2. some guy at the library that also goes to our school

 Well. At least he’s somebody they know. But The Walking Dead?

 Childe

12:38

thats not very convincing

 Childe

12:38

also dont ppl DIE? get BITTEN???? what if she gets nightmares

 Twin 1

12:39

isnt she 12 r u telling me u weren’t watching R rated movies at 12

 Childe

12:42

thats very different from a 10 season long show that is hailed as “one of the greatest horror shows in history” and “paved the way for post-apocalyptic horror”

 Twin 1

12:42

well if she has trouble sleeping she could always watch asmr. that helps me during midterms idk

 Childe

12:42

whats asmr

 Childe

12:43

asking for my sister btw

 Twin 1

12:44

A feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck, as experienced by some people in response to a specific gentle stimulus, often a particular sound.

 Childe

12:45

wtf?

 Twin 1

12:45

people on the internet make random sounds or just talk into a mic n its supposed to be very relaxing. how have u never found out abt this?????

 Childe

12:45

idk the only thing on my youtube recommended r greatest stunts and chapter review videos

 Twin 1

12:47

… makes sense

 Twin 1

12:47

check out rex lapis’ channel he looks like ur type

 Childe

12:48

i thought we were talking about my sister????

 Twin 1

12:50

[message screenshots.jpg]

 Twin 1

12:50

ya she told me everything

 Twin 1

12:50

have fun i need to convince aether to not commit arson bc of his TA

 Childe

12:51

hope he does it

He opens his Youtube app, typing in Rex Lapis and expecting Lumine’s suggestion to be a joke. Despite them being friends for nearly two years now, she’s never made any indication of knowing his type. And he’s sure he’s never been that vocal about it either, only shooting appreciative looks at history majors and paying more attention than necessary to the TA for ‘Tradition of Justice and Law.’ (It’s unfortunate that those short-term crushes never led to anything, but maybe that’s for the better seeing that Childe has never understood the appeal of relationships.)

It is an ASMR channel, judging by the ASMR playlist he finds as he scrolls through the account. The icon shows no face — only a microphone — which leaves him skeptical. Most of the video titles belong in a petrology lecture as well, which makes him even more convinced that it’s a joke. He finds a few readings of ancient literature and decides to pick ‘I discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)’ because that’s exactly what he needs. (Not the very moment — but ten hours later when he’s in the bed memorizing the pattern of his ceiling wondering why he stole from his fifth grade teacher’s candy jar during lunch.)

When Childe opens the video, he damn near gasps.

The man in the video is exactly his type. His eyes are a soft amber color, framed with long lashes, and it’s almost enough for him to lose his dignity and message Lumine a long thank you text about how she is always right and he’ll pay for her coffee for the following week.  He smiles at the screen, albeit a little sheepishly, dark hair framing his face with a long ponytail that Childe can’t see the end of. On his right ear, there are a pair of earrings with a single feather that brush against his neck when he moves his head.

Even before he speaks, Childe is mesmerized, sure he’ll already memorize his features from the curve of his nose to the way he tilts his head, displaying the expanse of his neck.

Really — he reminds him of actors in historical dramas, the way he sits regally, and how he speaks. His voice is low and slow as he adopts a careful manner of speaking, leaning into the mic.

“I’m Rex Lapis, and I’ll be discussing igneous petrology today, which is part one in a three-part petrology series. I apologize in advance, seeing that my knowledge is limited compared to many petrologists out there but my friend Venti said that many of my viewers are here for my voice, so I’m very excited to start today’s video.”

Holy shit.

For the following week, Childe learns less about petrology, the philosophy of economics, and historical revisionism concerning matters of war and more about Rex Lapis, who is not in love with his voice but often finds himself in the middle of long tangents without explanations. His favorite book series is the Legend of the Lone Sword, which he says he’ll look forward to reading out loud for the channel. (Childe replays that part of the video again and again, captivated by his excitement as he mindlessly taps the mic while he speaks, his tangent cutting off mid-word — as it usually does, much to his dismay.)

His guilty obsession is not lost on Tonia, who realizes that instead of drinking Monster every night he’s been engrossed in his phone completely, often not noticing her or when the water starts bubbling. But because his sleeping schedule has been alleviated, she says nothing until Lumine comes over as she always does, not forgetting their weekly schedule of watching trashy movies while leeching off of Childe’s food.

Because he doesn’t trust the twins with the kitchen — even if they can cook — she instead spends her time sitting next to Tonia and spreading more of her anti-Childe propaganda while they wait. This usually involves Tonia occasionally calling out Childe’s name and asking, “Is that true?” or “Did you really do that?”

This time is different though.

Worried that Lumine finally decided to show Tonia a video of last semester’s presentation, he leans over, looking at the computer screen.

And he’s wrong. Unfortunately. Maybe it should’ve been his presentation because even if he botched it and accidentally projected his work process — screaming notes and all — to the class instead of his actual presentation, it would’ve been better than the two of them watching one of Rex Lapis’ videos together.

The ‘I read Erosion: Essays of Undoing to you as it rains outside’ video, to be specific, which is where Rex Lapis is embarrassed by Venti mid video when asked if this was his idea of a date with a lover. (And then it ends with Rex Lapis asking for video suggestions from the commentors, his face still flushed from the previous comments.)

Oh God — oh fuck.

“So he is your type,” Lumine says, her expression a bit too smug for his liking. Tonia looks half awake, scrolling through articles as the video plays, more interested in ‘Top 10 Glenn Rhee Moments’ than Childe’s crush. Her expression is a bit guilty as she does so — she’s biting her lip and avoiding his gaze, but he assumes that it’s just because they went through his YouTube history.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement,” he retorts, but the YouTube history she pulls up once Tonia hands the computer over to her says it all. (It’s quite mortifying, really — even Tonia is giving him a look, but it’s not as bad as Lumine’s shit eating grin.)

“Well… he does have a nice voice,” Childe finally says, thinking that perfectly encompasses his most recent obsession. Because he does have a nice voice — it’s soothing and speaks to him without really speaking to him directly. (The good looks are a bonus, he assures himself. A fantastic bonus, but a bonus nonetheless.)

“He does,” Tonia confirms, smiling toothily up at him, and he resists the urge to ruffle her hair with Lumine staring at him so skeptically. “But I don’t understand much of what he’s saying. He — heh — talks like an old man.”

“Don’t worry, Tonia, your brother likes him because he’s attractive,” Lumine informs her, now fast forwarding on one of Rex Lapis’ videos. “Did you know that he lives nearby?”

“Huh?”

The knife he’s holding clatters to the floor, and the two look down and back up at him with— hold on, why does it feel like they’re in on a secret he doesn’t know about?

“Yeah, he’s working on his grad thesis I think… Aether told me it was about something on history,” she muses. “That’s why I recommended his channel to you. He’s a bit of a celebrity in his department.” Childe’s sure his jaw dropped now, trying to maintain his facial expression as he takes out a new knife to chop up the onions.

“Really,” he tries to say as calmly as possible, wondering how he should accompany Aether to his lectures without trying to seem as obvious as possible. His voice is a bit shaky he realizes but he can’t quite make the connection between Rex Lapis and actual graduate student that goes to his university.

“Yeah, actually…” Lumine is definitely pretending to think now, enjoying this far too much. “He—”

“It’s Zhongli!” his little sister yells excitedly, practically jumping up and down at this point as if she won the lottery. “Zhongli runs an ASMR channel and he talks just like that in real life! Right, Lumine?”

“Yeah.”

Childe sighs, holding a hand up to his face. The realization that he’s been obsessed with the same guy that hears about every stupid thing he did secondhand is way too much — and the fact that he’s been listening to his voice every night before he went to bed the past week is way too much. He’s sure his face is redder than before judging by the amused expressions on Lumine’s and Tonia’s faces — really, they’re mirror images of each other right now.

Not for the first time, Childe swears to himself that he’ll never let her into his apartment without signing a contract ever again.

[pepperful-qt]

Also I saw that you're into hp too, I'd like to request a hq x hp crossover please! Relationship hcs of kuroo, osamu and semi (separately) with a slytherin s/o? + bonus if there are suggestive hcs as well. I personally hc kuroo to be a fellow slytherin so I'd really appreciate it if you could assign slytherin for him! I'll leave osamu's and semi's houses to you ^^ thanks again!

ahhh this request made me so excited !! funnily enough I hc slytherin for all these babes🙈im one myself haha let's go🐍🐍🐍 this isn’t late shh

warnings: suggestive situations/language, alcohol (firewhiskey?? & substances)

Kuroo, Osamu, & Semi with a Slytherin s/o HP! AU

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。・゜✭・.・✫

Kuroo Tetsurou

he’s an example of a great slytherin leader

definitely a prefect/head boy, quidditch captain, and is in like 3 clubs. you bet he’s a favorite among professors too

he’s the stereotypical slytherin that’s good at potions, but it’s not bc he’s a slytherin it’s bc he’s an actual nerd (chemistry nerd? try potions nerd)  

and he’s just generally smart and good in his classes

and so are you :) a prefect too

in fact, you’re quite popular with all the houses and the professors. most people wouldn’t guess that your slytherin based on stereotypes

Kuroo, however, recognizes what you’re really doing: creating a network for yourself, and he respects it, but he will mess with you

you actually become friends with Kenma first, knowing he’s very intelligent, which is how he hears about you other than seeing you in passing in the common room and your shared classes

the first time he speaks to you is in potions class and brings up Kenma as a common point, and continues just charming his way through the conversation

he’s just too nice. but there’s little hints of provocation in there too

so you make things fun and flirt back, but play innocent hard to get 

the whole time before he actually asks you out is this back and forth witty banter and flirting that drives everyone crazy

which by the way, he keeps dropping hints that you’re going to have to ask first, but when you finally crack and start to he asks instead, making you flustered (which was his goal the whole time)

can i just say: power couple

y’all are just popular and no one knows why really?? you’re just hard to hate. it’s allll jealousy

you’re also the parents of the slytherins too. you keep em in line but also have no issue standing up to anyone

and trust me, no one wants to mess with you two. you have respect for more than one reason, and knowing a nasty hex or two is def one of them

that network i was talking about? comes in handy all the time

he’ll casually mention a specific kind of root he needs for a potion he wants to try in his extracurricular potion lessons (yes he’s that person) and you just go:

“oh Richard has a friend in ravenclaw who’s got a cousin working at a shop in Hogsmeade that gets those regularly. want me to ask?”

he’s good at getting away with his shenanigans. usually. you always catch him and never let him live it down

when he acts all cocky you know just what to say to knock him down a few pegs, or flirt up a storm that makes everyone around you gag at the sexual tension

“yes captain”

honestly, it feels like you’re the only ones who know the other completely, save for Kenma with Kuroo

he’s the type that will cast orchideous when he sees you by yourself and make flowers grow next to you before walking up and revealing himself aw <3

other students would rather hug the giant squid than get in a debate with you two, especially if you’re together. they’re feelings and egos will be permanently scarred

more pda than other slytherin x slytherin relationships. you’re not afraid to show that you belong to each other

it’ll be something like an arm around your shoulder or a kiss on the cheek as a greeting (it’s still subtle)

however,,

more than one occasion he’ll come up behind you while you’re working in the library and massage your shoulders while kissing your neck and whispering some suggestions into your ear

it looks very innocent from an outside perspective, but he makes it so hard to concentrate with his hot breath on your skin

and did i mention you’re both prefects? wow do you abuse your privilege sometimes

what’s more exciting than getting a little action in a dark secluded part of the castle by torchlight during your nightly rounds?

need i mention the bath? steamy.. Myrtle’s a blabbermouth too, so the other prefects know what’s up. but really, are they gonna stop you?

not always, of course. shared baths are some of the best times to have real talk and deep conversations

100% supportive of each other and will take over the world one day, we love to see it

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。・゜✭・.・✫

Miya Osamu

the temptation to just make him from Durmstrang-

***i just know people will fight me for sorting him into Slytherin. it’s true that he fits in others but he’s flexible, so i stuck him here for now. i already admitted he was a hat stall calm down.

ANYWAYS

Osamu’s career as a Hogwarts student is made up of 2 things: quidditch and a secret snack and substance smuggling ring he started in his second year

the Miya twins have a reputation with quidditch just like with volleyball (Osamu is a chaser, Atsumu is a beater. great team)

(i imagine they’re pureblood too, not rlly important though. if you’re half/muggleborn, enjoy teaching his clueless ass about basic muggle society)

you’re another proud and competitive slytherin, who somehow has dirt on anyone and everyone

you’re on the quidditch team too, even better. that’s where you grow close to the twins at first, making you guys a power trio in your own right. quidditch dream team <3

not only do you spend a lot of time together, getting to know each other intimately as teammates (beyond the facades) and allowing his feelings to grow slowly yet surely, but Atsumu is also there to provoke and make Osamu subconsciously jealous when he gets feelings

you’re great at talking Atsumu in circles, which frustrates him and amuses Osamu

(more than once the twins have gotten into pseudo-duels and nearly burned the quidditch stands to the ground. lucky your common room is in a stone dungeon omfg)

you obv know about his snack business, initiating a bit of blackmail to get him to do favors for you, but all in good fun. eventually one of those favors is a date ;)

it’s a quiet relationship, not an in-your-face one, but no one can deny the chemistry,, it’s almost suffocating itself

he’d messed around a little, but they never lasted more than a week. so when he realized you’d hit the month mark he was (internally) “oh shit”

you go on Hogsmeade dates all the time <3 he actually laughs when you get a butterbeer foam mustache. it was an accident the first time, now you do it on purpose ;)

you become a business partner for his smuggling ring. your blackmail means you’ve got lots of people under your thumb and lots of favors available to call in. he also trusts your judgement

fangirls are always jealous, but merlin help them if they confront you. if they’re lucky you’ll roll your eyes and ignore them, but usually you’ll decimate them with words and leave them in the dust. you also know how to hex and get away with it (just blame someone else duh)

yeah rumors happen and it’s annoying, bc you really don’t need people staring at you all the time, but neither you or Osamu even address it

both of you are invited to Slughorn’s parties along with Atsumu, you’re that couple

you’re staring someone down and he comes from behind and snakes (ha) his arms around your waist, glaring at them over your shoulder. 11/10 terrifying

sitting in the courtyard talking to your friends, your head on his lap while he plays with your hair

sneaking into the kitchens together. once you tried some cooking charms and the next day everyone’s eggs were neon green at breakfast...oops?

holding hands while you walk through the hallways and the crowd parts around you

Atsumu is secretly bitter his brother has such a cool s/o and he has yet to have a serious relationship, so he’ll bother & tease the two of you a lot to cope smh

though you don’t show it in public and often give off a tough front instead, behind closed doors you’re actually very loving and committed to one another

favorite places for ~special~ time? quidditch locker room & your dorm

you find excuses to stay behind after practice together. your teammates used to think it was just a coincidence until they finally caught on (not that they’d tattle. if you get caught that’s your business)

imo Osamu would probably be willing to try involving charms in some way during sexy times. a spark on your skin, binding, whatever. most of them are one-offs but it’s the thought that counts ig

there’s an unspoken rule in the slytherin boys dorm to stick a drooble’s gum wrapper on the door of the dorm to tell the others to stay out, but Osamu doesn’t trust anyone so he prefers hanging out in your room. it’s quieter and your roommates know not to try anything <3

he smuggles in some firewhiskey and other stuffs for you two to enjoy by yourselves <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。・゜✭・.・✫

Semi Eita

(debated with gryffindor for him, but ultimately decided nahh)

Semi is less of the sly and underhanded slytherin and more of the ambitious and self-assured kind

idk why, but i’m feeling a love-hate to friendly competition to friends to lovers ?? don’t ask ajsldkf

you’re a top student, mostly bc of your charm though. no one knows if your good grades are real (they are, but it doesn’t hurt being the teacher’s favorite)

though you hop around friend circles, you don’t have a solid group. sort of an outcast in that way

he knows you exist, but no one really expects much from you. aha, big mistake

every single time you sweep everyone in classes, one way or another, you come out on top (hey i won’t question your methods) and oh does it piss him off. you’ve hit a competitive nerve my friend,, little bit of envy too :/

he confronts you, but you evade, maybe with a little challenge or provocation

from then on it’s just little jabs at each other. he corrects your stirring technique. you return the favor in transfiguration with his wrist motion

you two are the definition of “are you flirting or starting a fight?”

he ends up partnering with you in potions, just to see your tricks up close i swear. he didn’t realize that meant he’d see different sides of you when you study. the way you mingle with everyone intrigues and fascinates him, and slowly curiosity takes the place of spite

he saw you prank a gryffindor into drinking babbling beverage, and it was the first time he saw a genuine smile from you (even if it was a little malicious) 

slowly your relationship shifts as you learn more about each other. you’re more than a suspected cheater and he’s more than a hotheaded jock

you two are the definition of “are you flirting or starting a fight?”

both of you are super super stubborn and too proud to admit feelings for each other sigh, cue slytherin bff tendou to the rescue. count on him for some elaborate scheme to finally get you two together. thank god

once you are together, you’re inseparable

you send each other messages on paper birds charmed to fly to the other, wherever they are. it’s gotten you in trouble a few times (Snape will read them out loud, just bc you’re slytherin doesn’t mean you’re spared embarrassment)

you are in charge of his outfits if you ever go on casual dates to Hogsmeade. sorry eita it’s not a debate <3

he’s super fcking protective, and has a bit of a jealous streak. scary when irritated, but no more than you are

most loyal freaking couple ever though

you’ll have heated debates with each other that from the outside look like you’re fighting but five minutes later you’re chilled out on the common room couch reading a book together, him reading over your shoulder as you sit between his legs

deep conversations late at night in the common room, watching the giant squid & cuddling by the fireplace

love talking about your dreams and aspirations, joking about taking over the world together <3

though it takes some convincing for him on your part, you’re great at sneaking out and not getting caught. you know the secret passages like the back of your hand thanks to being stuck in the dungeons, and like hell rules are going to keep you from enjoying what you want

Hogsmeade, down by the black lake/boathouse at night, and your favorite spot, the astronomy tower <3

you’ll go up there at night, casting sparks from your wand that decorate the air like hovering stars, and just enjoy the beauty of magic and each other

the first time you were almost caught, you ended up in a snug secret passage, and that was your first kiss

sometimes you’re almost caught and then it’s a nice flashback to that time

low on pda outside of holding hands, but get a little firewhiskey and you’re all over each other

late night study sessions in the library that often turn into makeout sessions when you’re finally alone what can i say, the possibility of getting caught is exciting

a big part of your relationship is impressing and inspiring each other every day. you understand each others’ passions and habits, and you’re constantly keeping each other in check while also pushing yourselves to be better (tbh top tier slytherin x slytherin dynamic)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。・゜✭・.・✫ 

a/n: anyone want a fic out of these?? omfg please send more harry potter or au in general

[hatsukeii]

Sorry if this is becoming a Tsukki stan blog with all the requests you get for him lmao. All of your precious depressed!Tsukki asks got me thinking. How would he comfort his girlfriend who is having nightmares about him committing suicide after she found him cutting or maybe attempting? I had to break into a friend’s house a couple years ago to stop him from committing suicide and as much as I love him, the thought of that night still haunts me. Thank you for even reading this honestly. 🥺

Okay this was on my list for one of the requests I had to do asap bc it seems like a serious issue that needs attention so I’m putting off the matchups and hcs and doing this one first.

But like it’s still super late I’m sorry-

Plus there’s nothing to be sorry about lol this blog becoming a tsukki stan blog is 100% okay-

I sure as hell hope you’re doing alright, and that your friend is safe, you two seem like amazing people:)

Darling, I’m right here//Depressed!Tsukishima x Reader

Word count: 1600+ (A bit shorter than usual I’m sorry-)

Warnings: Depression, attempted suicide, mild swearing

Summary: You wake up to a reoccurring nightmare.

“Tsukishima?”

“Kei? What are you doing?”

Thank god you had to get to school extra early that day. There Tsukishima was, sitting on the train platform, his feet dangling off the edge. “Kei?” He stayed silent, ignoring you as a bright light headed towards his direction. You knew he was depressed, but you sure as hell didn’t think he would actually try to commit suicide. Your eyes widened as you watched his hands push himself off the platform, landing onto the train tracks. You lifted your leg, desperate to rush over and pull him back up, but it was as if your feet were bolted to the ground, refusing to move. “COME ON! MOVE!” The train was now nearing him, it was guaranteed that it would hit him if he didn’t get out in the next three seconds. You tried to scream, tears flowing freely down your face, but nothing came out. You felt your throat burning, however all that was produced from your mouth were inaudible wheezes and whimpers. Your legs wouldn’t cooperate with you however hard you tried, refusing to leave the cold ground. Your fists were clenched so tight crescent shaped marks etched themselves into your palm. Everything went into slow motion as the train came into sight. Tsukishima sent you one last glance, smiling softly, before everything was painted red and his body was gone. Time seemed to go straight back to normal right afterwards. At the same moment, your legs decided to detach themselves from the ground, and your voice came back almost instantly. “KEI? KEI NO!” You bolted to the platform, hoping to find something, anything, that could convince you this was fake. The air around you was thick, the smell of blood wafting into your nose as you stare at the train tracks in horror. “Why? Why couldn’t I save you just now?” Your heart was thumping furiously, blocking all foreign noise out as you squeezed your eyes shut. You don’t even know what happened, but the second you opened up your eyes, you were in the hall at school, students crowding around your locker. “Wait, you were there when he did it?” “Why didn’t you save him?” “How could you just let him jump off?” The questions never stopped coming. You slammed your hands over your ears, frantically trying to shut out the haunting voices. “No, nononononono stop, please! Please, I couldn’t do anything I couldn’t save him!”

“I COULDN’T SAVE YOU!”

You gasped, hitting your head on the coffee table as you bolted upwards, cold sweat dripping off your forehead as you panted. Tear stains were evident on your face, although you swear you didn’t know you were crying. Your hair was a disheveled mess, strands of baby hair sticking out of your head. Grabbing your sheets in one hand and your chest in the other, you continued to pant heavily, your mind racing in between your reoccurring nightmare and reality. Why was it that again? That was at least a year ago, and yet it still haunted you to this day. You were quick enough to grab Tsukishima from the platform during his attempt, but was that nightmare going to happen if you couldn’t pull him back to safety in time? Would he have died just like that, with no one knowing until a day later? Just the thought of the possibility made you shudder. Your hands made their way next to you, where your boyfriend was comfortably sleeping. Scrambling for his chest, you heaved a heavy sigh when you felt his steady heartbeat on your palm, breathing along to the beats on his chest. You gulped down your saliva, gripping his shirt tightly, as if you were too afraid to even let go for a second. You weren’t going to let him go ever again. Not when he obviously needed support and affection. You looked around Hinata’s living room. The movie from an hour ago was still on, however all the boys were already fast asleep. Kageyama was peacefully snoring away on the couch, Hinata was drooling all over his pillow, Nishinoya was grumbling in his sleep, Tanaka was making weird punching motions, and Yamaguchi stirred a little bit, his eyes squeezing shut. You pretended to lay down again, not wanting to concern the freckled boy with your sudden outburst. His body eventually went limp again as he continued to snore softly. Seeing that the coast was clear, you sat back up, trying to calm yourself down for the third time this week. Your hand was still grabbing onto the blond’s shirt, feeling the soft fabric in between your fingers.

“(Y...Y/N)?”

You froze.

Shit. You forgot that Tsukishima was a light sleeper.

Feeling him shift underneath your hand, you instantly let go of his shirt, gripping onto the mattress Hinata gave you two instead. The mattress dipped a bit, Tsukishima starting to carefully sit up. His hair was messier than usual, despite it being relatively short. Rubbing his eyes, he gave your hunched over figure a glance, completely confused. “(Y/N), what are you doing up so late?” Rapidly turning around, your hand landed on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. Next, it went up to cup his cheeks, then his arms as your eyes took in his entire body frantically. Finally, your arms wrapped around his neck, burying yourself in his presence. Awkwardly, he returned the embrace by patting your back with one hand, the other arm wrapping around your waist. Your mind was on the verge of insanity. His attempt at suicide was still overwhelming to you, even if it’s already been an entire year. Most people would ask why you haven’t moved on, but truth be told, you couldn’t. Tsukishima was still depressed, he could very well try doing it again, maybe this time in an even more subtle way. In a way where not even you can stop him. You were scared. Anxious. Terrified. Just the thought of him leaving you forever was too much to bear, and brought you to tears. You would have frequent nightmares about him killing himself in various ways. Pills, hanging, jumping off a roof, and the worst of them all, jumping into the train tracks. His initial attempt. And every single time, you wouldn’t be able to save him. You would be stuck to the floor, hopelessly draining yourself of your energy as you try to scream. “I couldn’t save you, what? Why? How are you here? I thought you jumped in? This isn’t a dream right?” 

That was when it struck Tsukishima. Everything was clear as day now. The reason why you came to school sleep deprived every day. Why you constantly fell asleep in class. Why you were always last online at three in the morning. “Why did you never tell me about this?” He could feel the wetness of your tears as you forced your face into his neck more. “Didn’t want you t-to worry more than you already do. I’m gonna go crazy if I see another c-cut on that beautiful skin of yours.” His hand stopped, resting in the small of your back. “(Y/N)...” He didn’t think his self harming tendencies and his suicide attempt would affect you this much. He never thought anyone really cared. However when you hauled him home and screamed at him after catching him trying to jump into the train tracks, that ignited something in him. He now had someone he had to- no. Wanted to protect. One person cared enough to save him, and that was all it took for him to realise a bit of his self worth. He would do anything to keep you happy and safe. One of your first requests was for him to stop cutting. He had stopped scattering his skin with cuts, despite his crippling depression. He had done it just for you, and it felt amazing. You usually just waved him off with a casual “Insomnia’s a bitch” whenever he asked about the dark eye bags, or the questionable time you were last online. Never did the thought that you were still traumatised from events that happened over a year ago pass his mind. He should’ve known that this would affect you badly. How could he have been so selfish? Disregarding your emotions as he tried to end his life. He felt terrible. He was pissed at himself. For being so selfish and foolish.

He heaved a heavy sigh, mentally punching his nuts. Moving his hand from your back, he caressed your head tenderly, as if you were a glass statue that would break with the tiniest push. You sobbed even harder, squeezing him tight. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” His eyes fluttered shut as he held onto your trembling figure, peppering your head with tiny kisses in an attempt to comfort you. You smelled like shampoo and roses. He couldn’t help but take a sniff. You were the sole reason he was still here, living and breathing as he plummeted through his hole called life. Without you, he would’ve been dead ages ago. You were the guiding light in his life, reminding him about everything he should live for. Everything he should be happy for. Taking your head off his neck, you look straight at him with teary eyes. “You’re here right? This is real?” His heart shattered at the sight. His beautiful, amazing, precious, perfect girlfriend, was crying because of him. He pushed your head back into his shoulder, giving you the biggest hug as he held his grip on you tightly.

“Darling, I’m right here. I’m always gonna be here.”

Ahhhh I hope you liked it even though it’s a lot shorter than what I usually write🥺👉👈💖💕

Tags: @ewfilthymundane @izzyphantomgamer @sunshines-and-tatertots @tiger1719 @trashcanweeb @inlwlevi @itmekisuu @just-another-bored-writer @justachillgirl @burnt-tomato @for-ests @bokutokoutarou @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover @xonfusedsoul @estherwritess @macaronnv @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @tiredgr3mlin @emsvegetables @fullmetalfangirl21 @poppirocks @mariechan123 @tokyoghoose

Dm or comment if you wanna be included in the taglist or if I forgot to tag you!

[lovely-ateez]

For The First Time Pt.2~

ꕥPosted: 7/25/20

ꕥGenre: College!au, Fluff

ꕥPairing: Fem!reader x Jongho

ꕥWord Count: ~1k

ꕥWarnings: None

ꕥA/N: I know this isn’t a popular series which makes me a little sad but I wanted to finish it anyway. If people end up liking it and it actually gets attention I might(?) make a part 3. It’s most likely gonna end here tho. Read part 1 also if you wouldn’t mind! Things will make a lot more sense if you do. You can do that here

ꕥA/N Cont: So even though I provided translations for some words, there is a phrase that I clarified in the middle of the writing bc I didn’t want to spoil anything

ꕥPhrase Guide:

你= You

加油 = You can do it (encouragement)

Jongho was surprisingly easy to talk to and we got along better than I thought we would. Not that I thought we wouldn’t get along, but I was still surprised.

After we had lunch together we exchanged numbers and began to hang out more, usually every couple days given our busy schedules.

He was so talkative that I found out almost everything about him in no time. He just turned 20, was a music major, and took Chinese because he wanted a challenge. He loved snow but hated the cold. Soccer was his favorite sport but he didn’t play often since he was always either studying or working as a tutor for underclassmen. He was born in Korea but grew up in America. Fluent in Korean but insecure enough about his American accent that he only spoke it with close friends and family. He met Mingi during a soccer camp he went to in middle school and his best friend - the guy with the mullet - was named Hongjoong and apparently much friendlier than he looked.

The more I spent time with Jongho, the more I realized I had feelings for him and the stronger they became. When Marina and I were alone in our dorm, I told her everything I was feeling and the response was exactly what I suspected.

“HA! KNEW IT!” Marina yelled, “I just won myself ten bucks.”

“I’m sorry, YOU WHAT?”

“I may or may not have made a bet with Mingi that you would catch feelings within three months of meeting Jongho. And you’re two days away from three months, girly.” She shrugged but kept the smile on her face.

“Oh my god you did not. Actually speaking of...what’s up with you two? Are you official yet?”

Marina went quiet for a moment then bit her lip, finally speaking up, “Well...not yet, technically, but we’ve seriously considered it. We have another date this weekend. Now all you have to do is get with Jongho and we can go on a double date.”

“Yeah I don’t know about that, M.”

“Y/n he totally likes you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No I know. He’s got a few tells so I know he feels at least a little something. I’m just not sure if I should commit to anything, you know?”

Marina let out a loud laugh before speaking again.

“Pfft no. I dated all throughout high school. If I’m being honest, though, I really think you should give it a chance. People always freak out about possibly ruining a friendship by confessing but honestly if a friendship can’t withstand a little crush then you probably weren’t solid friends in the first place.”

“You know what? You’re right. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

“Hell yeah girl! Go get him!”

-

The next day arrived way too quickly. Although I told myself I would confess, I was getting anxious. I walked into Chinese class holding hands with Marina for emotional support. We were the first ones there, as always, so I had a bit of time to rant.

“I’ll be honest, M. I’ve never felt butterflies like this before. I’m actually shaking.” I lifted up my hand to show her my slight tremor.

“Oh sweetheart! It’ll be all good! Promise. Just take a few deep breaths.”

I slowly breathed in and out for the next several seconds.

“You’re right. I can do this.”

The trio walked into class several minutes later. Mingi gave a quick kiss to Marina and Jongho gave me a friendly smile. Hongjoong rolled his eyes at the four of us and walked to his usual seat, propping his feet up on the seat in front of him.

The rest of the class filled in and soon our professor arrived.

The professor loudly clapped her hands, speaking up, “Alright class. Today I’m going to have you pair up in groups of two and work together. I don’t care who it’s with, as long as it’s with somebody. We’ve got an even number of students so we should be fine. I’ve got some games for you to play today.”

I turned to Marina but she was already halfway up the stairs to sit next to Mingi. I looked at Jongho but he motioned at Hongjoong, mouthing that he was sorry.

Okay. That’s fine. I thought. I’ll find someone else. Looking up I saw the unfamiliar young man standing in front of me. He blanked for a moment when I looked up at him.

“Hey! Uh...would you maybe want to be partners?”

“Are you sure? With the both of us together we’ll probably beat the whole class by a landslide.”

He laughed and sat down next to me, visibly more confident.

“I’m sure they can manage. I’m Tommy, by the way. You’re y/n, right?”

I nodded and smiled at him as we shook hands. I looked Tommy in the eyes and saw a slight blush on his cheeks. What I didn’t see; however, was the death stare Jongho was giving him.

The professor looked up and let out a laugh, pointing at Tommy and I.

“Yeah no way in hell am I letting that happen. You two are my best students and - no offense everyone - but no one would stand a chance against you two.”

“Ouch.” I heard Mingi say.

Jongho quickly stood up and raised his hand, “I’ll partner up with her!”

“Very good. Get on with it then.”

Tommy looked upset, making me feel bad for leaving him.

“Hey that’s okay, Tommy. Maybe next time?” I gave him a smile that he soon returned.

I walked up to Jongho, sitting next to him as Hongjoong sat down next to Tommy.

Jongho leaned in and whispered, “I’ll be honest, y/n. I’m really glad the teacher separated you two.”

“Yeah, I bet everyone is. We are the best in the class, no offense,” I laughed.

“Actually no I meant-“

“Alright class. I have talked in English for an unusually long time but in my defense, I was up basically all night grading essays so I’m running on two hours of sleep and a cappuccino. Nevertheless, I’ll now switch to Chinese. 加油.”

The first game was simple enough. The teacher wrote beginner to intermediate level phrases for us to translate. If we got it right, we got a point.

My team eventually won, beating Tommy and Hongjoong by a single point. Jongho really surprised me, getting almost as many questions right as I did.

Mingi and Marina ended up last because neither of them were paying attention, instead flirting with each other.

The second and final game was a little more complicated. We had to translate the sentence, as well as pronounce all the characters correctly. Tommy’s team was tied with mine until Jongho answered the last question correctly. I smiled at him and bounced in my seat.

“We won, Jongho!” I exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. He froze at first, but then put his arms around me and pulled me closer.

The professor spoke up once more, “We’re out of time for class today but remember you have a test next week. I expect you all to be studying!”

Our classmates soon left the room along with our teacher. Hongjoong quickly ran out to meet his new boyfriend - Seonghwa I think he said? - and Mingi and Marina were already gone. I assumed they left class sometime during the second game.

“Hey,” Jongho said to me as I was slipping on my backpack, “I was wondering if you could help me out with my writing in Chinese? Sometimes I mess up the stroke order and I could use the practice.”

“Sure! When do you want to study?”

“How about now?”

Jongho grabbed my arm and led me down to the whiteboard at the front of the class. I looked around at the empty classroom and nodded. I didn’t want to disturb anyone. He picked up a marker and began to write.

“I’ll write and you tell me if I make a mistake, okay?”

I laughed, “Sure, Jongho.”

As he started writing I didn’t see any mistakes. When he finished writing, I gasped.

“我��欢你。你喜欢谁?”

[I like you. Who you you like?]

I smiled and took the marker from his hands, placing it back on the podium. I looked him in the eyes and cupped his face. “你” I said as I kissed him. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. He smiled and kissed me again, this time wrapping his arms around my waist.

We pulled back for air and I whispered, “You know, I was actually planning on telling you today, too. Marina encouraged me to tell you, but I guess I didn’t have to after all.”

“I mean you can still tell me, if you want.”

I gently kissed his cheek, “You already know how I feel.”

“Hmm. Actually I’m not quite sure. Could you clarify for me?” Jongho laughed when I playfully hit his arm.

“You know,” he continued, “when I said I was glad the teacher separated you earlier, I meant that I was glad you were away from Tommy. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and I really didn’t like it. I got so nervous because even though I tease, this is the first time I’ve felt like this. So I guess the question is...will you let me take you on a date?”

“Absolutely!”

[seunqs]

[ a long get to know me tag ]

tagged by: losers @woosohn @yeonjuins

what day is your birthday?

27th june! it’ll be on a monday next year

what’s your favourite colour?

blue! a rather specific shade of light sky blue but i also like dark blue! might be misleading because everyone would think beige/black since that’s the aesthetic i like + almost everything i own is black...

what’s your lucky number?

i don’t have one i think but i tend to say 7 if i’m asked?

do you have any pets?

sadly no >:( will get one in the future idc idc

how tall are you?

158cm tiny i wna be abit taller

how many pairs of shoes do you own?

off my head i think 3 pairs...? just 2 black and 1 white that i rotate depending on the outfit i’m wearing

favorite song?

asdjekw i don’t think i have one specific one but recently i’ve been listening to maniac by nct doyoung & haechan!

other honourable mentions: a book of love by ha hyunsang, wide eyed blind by saint raymond, irreplaceable by nct dream, lmly by jackson wang. that’s all i have off my head

favorite movie?

surprisingly i’m not big on movies... but i’ll always answer parent trap when someone asks! why do i sound like i always have prepared answers in my head for various questions... okay that’s bc i do.

what would be your ideal partner?

@june look away i already know you’re gna say this sounds a lot like someone..

shy... is the main characteristics lmao idky it’s not even like i’m outgoing but i tend to find myself liking shy-er boys over the outgoing ones! aaa those with very obvious leadership qualities and quietly cares and looks out for those around them :’) tsundere! i think shy may appear cold sometimes but i’m rly :’) when the shy ones become very affectionate in private or when you get to know them better :’) or shy with strangers but very goofy and silly with their closer social circle heh those that are more cat-like than dog-like, only approaches you when they’re comfy. okay also shy but willing to speak up when necessary! doesn’t let themselves get bullied for being quiet and also pls speak up for me i hate ordering food pls do it for me HAHAHHA also if they’re passionate about something they like/are good at! good listeners too heh doesn’t need to always have the best advice, just if they would sit with me silently and listen to me and give me a hug afterwards :’’’’’) i think i’m on the touchier side too so if they don’t dislike that it’ll be nice! OH someone who’s good at cooking too bc i hate cooking and the kitchen in general.. i’ll do the dishes though HAHAHAH ok that is all there is a certain idol in my head that is the embodiment of my ideal type and i hate him >:(

do you want children?

no... not so much bc i don’t find them cute or i can’t handle them but i think it’s a commitment that scares me! bringing up the child well with the right character and values ajksdbwkje i don’t know if i’m up to that HAHAHAH

have you gotten in trouble with the law?

nope @woosohn @yeonjuins pls be proud of my direct no why are the two of you......... 

bath or shower?

shower! i don’t know if i’ve actually taken a bath before... probably when i was younger HAHAH i think i’ll get bored in the bath and i much rather be relaxing in bed than in the tub

what color socks are you wearing?

barefoot at the moment! the socks i own are mostly solid colour socks / simple cartoon or animal patterns but all ankle socks that can’t be seen with my shoes

favorite type of music?

i listen to pop, r&b and indie! that’s about all and favourite depends on the mood!

how many pillows do you sleep with?

just 1! and a bolster too

what position do you sleep in?

either on my back with hand over my head lmao or turned to either sides while hugging my bolster and face buried into the bolster

what you don’t like when you’re sleeping?

when it’s too hot! canNOT sleep if the weather is too hot. also if i get woken up rudely, by screaming or someone smacking me awake LMAO just tell me nicely to get up and i’ll be out of bed in 10mins pls give me awhile my brain is turning on HAHAHA

what do you have for breakfast?

recently i haven’t woken up early enough for bfast or my family is just about to go out to buy lunch by the time i’m up hahaha but on the days that i’m alive for bfast, iced coffee and any pastry sitting in the fridge! my family is big on pastries like croissants and cakes like banana and carrot cakes! so one of those but the iced coffee is a constant in my first meal of the day

have you ever tried archery?

nope and idt i’ll be good at it tbh....

favorite fruit?

strawberries, apples, peaches! there are some seasonal favs where i rly like them for a period of time and then suddenly not anymore but these 3 are the constants

favorite swear word?

hahahaha i dont think i have a favourite one..... but i say tf a lot and mf for kpop boys who make me more flustered than they should

do you have any scars?

i don’t think so! i have a few stretch marks around my waist and tummy tho 

are you a good liar?

yes... HAHAH i used to get scolded so much for lying as a kid lmfao

what’s your personality type?

isfj-t has probably only dipped to isfp-t once but if not constant isfj!

what’s your favorite type of girl?

HAHAHAH uh.... okay with all kinds i think? except people in general who try too hard

innie or outie?

innie. was this question necessary tho AHHAHAHA

left or right-handed?

right-handed

favorite food?

ramen! but i like lots of food lmfao tiramisu, pork belly, lots of noodles, also lots of rice, beef, cakes, ice cream, i think i’m more salty > sweet!

favorite foreign food?

japanese ramen, korean cuisine!, lasagne

are you clean or messy?

clean

most used phrase?

i think alot of keyboard smashes, lmao, wtf, HAHAHAHHAHA, sigh, i’m tired LOL

how long does it take for you to get ready?

depends! fastest i think i can get out of the house 20mins after i’ve woken up. longest probably an hour where outfit is taking a while and accessories needs to be chosen

do you talk to yourself?

in my head yes.

do you sing to yourself?

not often but i sing out loud for the family to hear LOL in my head very often a song is playing up there

are you a good singer?

nop. i don’t think i’m a BAD singer but wouldn’t classify as good either HAHHAHA

biggest fear?

wow so many things but i think biggest is complete darkness, i need to see and know what is going on around me. i sleep with a night light on heh 

are you a gossip?

with closer friends yes def HAHAH my school culture tends to have lots of tea that my friends and i don’t like to get too involved in but we do talk about the gossips that goes around hahaha have also been in the center of gossip way too often

do you like long or short hair?

long! can’t imagine myself with short hair.. used to have reallllyyy long hair that goes beyond my waist and cried when i cut it to slightly below shoulder length. that’s the shortest i’ll ever go

favourite school subject?

wow nothing i don’t like school lmfao but humanities and language are way more bearable than math and sciences

extrovert or introvert?

introverted

what makes you nervous?

unpredictable situations, being alone in public (contradictory because in private i would strongly prefer to be alone but i don’t enjoy being alone in public i feel judged HAHAHA), also currently waiting on a reply for something and that’s been keeping me anxious the past 2 days :’)

who was your first real crush?

when i was 13/14, tablemate in school that was kinda shy and had very limited social circle but talked to me endlessly in class lmfao he apparently liked me too but we never dated and went to different schools at 16 y/o. we’re still kinda in touch though! we talked quite a fair bit last month just catching up but he’s more of an acquaintance now

how many piercings do you have?

2! just one normal lobe piercing on either ears, don’t think i’ll get anymore

how fast can you run?

back in school i used to be one of the fastest girls in my class LMFAO i could clock 12.5 minutes for a 2.4km run. stamina came from dancing since i had to run laps before dance class 2 times a week. but that is long in the past and now i get tired from climbing more than 4 flights of stairs pls spare me

what color is your hair?

naturally black but dyed brown! my hair has grown quite abit since i dyed it though now its black at the top and brown from above my ears onwards

what color are your eyes?

a very dark brown lmfao almost black

what makes you angry?

irresponsible people. just pushing responsibility to others or avoiding their responsibilities. don’t need you to do a good job with your responsibilities, just don’t make your issues my issues. and if its a shared responsibility like group projects, then do your part to contribute and don’t expect others to cover you

selfish people, in many ways. just being self-centred, not caring about how others feel, doing things for personal gain at the expense of others

speaking in a passive-aggressive/sarcastic manner. i say this even though i’m afraid of confrontation but i much rather someone outright tells me they’re unhappy about something or wants to get a point across. i hate when they talk about it sarcastically or tries to sugar-coat their words to make themselves look less aggressive about their words. tell me straight as it is, if you’re already gonna talk about something bad don’t piss me off with your attitude at the same time

do you like your own name?

rae is nice! has a very nice ring to it and looks pretty!

do you want a boy or a girl as a child?

i don’t.. want one.. but both have their good and bad i can’t decide.. i want a puppy

what are your strengths?

is this an interview question i have had a few interviews over the past weeks i am well-prepared for this HAHAHA

i think i’m pretty resilient! i bounce back from bad times pretty quickly or i psycho myself to see the situation positively. but it is ofc coupled with a lot of complaining to the people around me first

although i hate unpredictable situations and having to quickly adapt to new settings, i think i adapt pretty quickly too. flexible? easy-going? idk what’s the right way to call it but yeah something along those lines. good at it but i still enjoy my stability and calm don’t want to have to quickly adapt to new situations.

what are your weaknesses?

very emotional HAHAH used to be much worse but i often let my emotions rule my head. i think i’ve improved A LOT though i used to be so bad but i think i’m now able to make rational decisions even if im bawling LMFAO

this sounds like a compliment but i’ve been told this too often as well. i tend to be way too nice to people who don’t deserve it. even if the person doesn’t deserve it or they’ve pushed all my buttons in the wrong way possible, i would still try to be as nice and polite as i can. really helps with me working in the f&b industry lmfao.

what’s the colour of your bedspread?

dark blue / grey! 

colour(s) of your room?

white & wood (throughout my house actually + green from the plants in the living room) @yeonjuins says i live in a muji showroom