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itsamejin · 4 years

Text

easy || jungkook angst/fluff

Summary: Date you, win a bet, get his rent paid off. Sounds promising enough, right? Jungkook should’ve known that his ambitions would end in disaster, but even if he did, that still wouldn’t have stopped him from pursuing you.

Warning: cursing, crude humor, fuckboy talk

Genre: college!au, fuckboy!au, bet!trope, angst, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Premise: In which Jungkook accepts a bet from Taehyung to date the first girl that walks into the lecture hall and realizes that he bit off more than he could chew when starts to catch feelings. Now, he has to suffer the consequences of being an idiot.

Commission Request: @altus-gens

Word Count: 9,203 words

—

It's not like Jungkook planned to be one of the most sought after person in Yonsei University, but it somehow turned out to be that way. Truthfully, he basks in it, loves that so many people idolize him for doing the bare minimum. He was handsome after all and had a level of charm that surpassed the need to have a good personality.

He got into such a prestigious school through an athletic scholarship for Taekwondo, managed to convince his professors to pass him when he put in minimal effort, and there was no shortage of girls to call when he was feeling lonely for a night. He was the stereotypical 'it' boy on campus and maybe if he was a little bit smarter, he'd have a better choice of friends than the six idiots he always hangs around with.

"How about this," Taehyung starts, gum in his mouth, "the first girl who walks in, you have to successfully get in her pants."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. They were in a damn lecture hall and yet Taehyung had no shame bringing up sex. Typical.

“This again, bro?” Hoseok sighed. “Aren’t you sick of bribing us to do weird shit for you?”

Taehyung smirked.

“Not at all, actually.”

"For how much?" Namjoon cut in, probably curious for the price point Taehyung would arrange this time. He was fired from his job just a week ago and could really use the money. "I'll do it if it’s enough to pay for my rent this month."

Taehyung scoffs, although knowing full well he could pay for all of the boys’ tuitions combined if he wanted to. He was the resident rich bachelor on campus after all.

"I'll pay it for a full year and your utility bills too if you're really down," Taehyung flaunts. "You just gotta have proof you actually managed to do it."

"Dude that's gross," Seokjin chimes in, "No one wants to send you proof of us doing it with a random girl."

Taehyung shakes his head.

"No, no, no," he says, clicking his tongue. "I phrased it incorrectly. I’m not a fucking pervert."

“You got us fooled,” Jimin mutters.

Taehyung leans in closer to the six boys and even Jungkook finds himself getting intrigued. Admittedly, he was a little curious considering he hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. He could really use having some extra cash for food without worrying about rent.

"You have to date the girl for like three months," Taehyung says seriously, "and I'll consider that as enough proof that you managed to actually do it since I know you guys are too horny to wait any longer than that to fuck."

They all look at Taehyung in disgust, Jimin even opting to hit him in the back of the head for being so vulgar. To be fair, they were all thinking of accepting Taehyung's bet regardless. It's not like they were new to leading girls on anyway.

"You gotta pay me more than that to fuck just any girl," Yoongi says, yawning in the process. He seemed the least likely to take up Taehyung's offer, but he was still game depending on the person.

"Then how would you feel," Taehyung starts, "if I told you guys that I could get you priority registration for next quarter."

The boys, even the ones who weren't interested, were now listening to Taehyung's every word.

"You mean," Hoseok gulps, "I could finally get that fucking Organic Chemistry class I need to get out of this hell hole?!"

Taehyung shrugs, an ominous smile on his face.

"Just the perk of having parents who have connections," Taehyung replies. “I’ll only accept one of you guys to do it though. I don’t wanna have you all fucking the same girl- that’d be weird.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what’s weird about this,” he grumbles.

“So are you guys in or not?” Taehyung asks, his patience growing thin.

He lays back on his chair, a smoldering look on his face when they all nod. They were desperate for money after all.

"The next girl that walks in will be the subject of this bet and whoever calls dibs on her first will be the one to woo her,” he says with a stretch of his arms. “Good luck boys.”

They all turned to look at the door and Jungkook watches silently as guy after guy walks into the lecture hall. No girl yet.

Jungkook was hoping, from the bottom of his heart, that no familiar faces would walk in. If he had to deal with a past fling, he’d have to back out immediately. He never dealt with exes very well.

The guys are at the edge of their seats, praying for a cute girl to walk through that didn’t already know about their horrible reputation. They were looking for an easy target, someone that could fall for their charms almost immediately.

And then, you walk in. You were clad in sweats with earphones on, rushing toward the front row seats of the lecture hall. You were chatting with your friends, yawning several times throughout your conversation with them. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk. There was nothing special about you to point out, in fact, you were just like everyone else. Strangely enough, he found that the most intriguing part about you.

"Nope, nope, nope," Jimin shakes his head repeatedly. "Can't, won't, never will. Sorry, Tae."

They all stare at him in confusion.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with her?" Yoongi asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Jimin faces away from you, not wanting to look at you any longer.

"No, nothing," there seems to be a blush forming on his face. He was hiding something.

“Bullshit,” Taehyung furrows his brows. “Bro, if she’s crazy and one of us gets our dick bitten off, we’re all blaming you, so spit it out.”

Jimin just sighs.

"She's been giving me Professor Kwon’s notes for the past few weeks,” he starts, much to the confusion of his friends. “Her name is [Y/N]. It'll be really mean if I go after her, especially since she and I are kind of friends. Plus, I really need to pass this class. I failed last quarter..."

The boys groan. Jimin was no fun.

"She's not my type so I don't think I could really get into it either," Seokjin states, no longer interested in the prize after Jimin’s confession. He’s been banking off of your notes from him too.

"Aren’t we all old enough to know not to mess with people’s feelings?" Hoseok sighs.

They roll their eyes at Hoseok’s statement. Who was he trying to fool with the nice guy act? He probably fooled around with girls just as much as the other guys did.

"Yeah, I’m backing out," Yoongi agrees, "and she hates me so there's that."

They all look at him questioningly and he puts his hands up in the air from their gazes.

"What? I just realized who she’s talking to down there.”

He pointed at a girl discreetly, but no one seemed to recognize her.

“Her friend and I dated,” Yoongi continues, “and I broke up with her over text and blocked her without letting her respond. That whole friend group is pretty much pissed at me. I'd rather not have to deal with them again."

The guys look disapprovingly at him. Breaking up over text was harsh, but probably not the worst thing Yoongi has done to his exes.

"You're actually a piece of shit," Namjoon sighs. "I really do need my rent paid though..."

Jungkook nods in agreement. It's been almost impossible to balance Taekwondo practices, college papers, and working a part-time job all at once. If he could somehow find a way to quit his job for a while and get priority registration for classes, then he doesn't mind getting his hands a little dirty in the process. Plus, you were cute enough and he's sure you weren't too difficult to befriend as long as he doesn't mention Yoongi in any conversations.

"I'm in," Jungkook chides, finally saying something after such a long period of silence.

They all look at him with disbelief in their eyes. Jungkook was never the one to partake in Taehyung's bets. In fact, he was the one usually ridiculing them for participating. He must have been really desperate if he was willing to do it.

"I mean, it's all yours if you want," Namjoon replies, "I don't wanna turn it into a competition.”

“Don’t worry dude,” Jungkook fist bumps Namjoon, “I’ll quit my job and refer you for it.”

They nod at each other as if they were on the same wavelength.

“I knew I could rely on you,” Namjoon says, faking tears from his eyes. The boys groan in response.

“Alright,” Taehyung claps his hands. “In exchange for providing me some mindless entertainment and going out with [Y/N], you will get your rent paid for the rest of the year and get early registration for next quarter. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t know about this, guys...”

Jungkook doesn’t hear him and instead takes one last look at you. You catch him in the corner of your eye and you can’t help but feel flustered at his serious expression.

“Should be easy enough,” he mutters to himself and turns his gaze back onto his friend.

“So we have a deal?” Taehyung asks.

He smirks, shaking the outreached hand Taehyung held out for him. He steals another glance at you and he finds you staring right back. He gives you a wink.

“Deal.”

—

Jungkook slid into the seat next to yours in the campus canteen, his eyes filled with determination. His posture was laid-back, but it was a little too obvious that he was trying to act like he didn’t care.

“Hi,” he greets you in a breathy tone- girls loved it when he spoke with his breathy tone.

“Hi?”

You’d been sensing that someone was staring at you during the lecture, but you thought that was just the paranoia that came from being near such an intimidating group of guys. Turns out, you should always trust your instincts.

Jungkook had a boyish grin on his face that made you want to smile back but also stare at him in disgust.

“I heard you help Jimin with Professor Kwon’s notes,” he whispers mischievously. “I’m struggling myself, actually...”

Not really, but you know. This was the easiest tactic to approach you- tackle your similarities. You nod understandingly at his words, not quite getting that he was flirting with you.

“Yeah I can send you the Google Drive folder,” you comply, taking your phone out. “But you can’t let Professor Kwon know or else he’ll flip out. He doesn’t want people to have the notes for some odd reason...”

You trail off but Jungkook just scoffs. You seemed clueless.

“That’s not what I necessarily meant,” he says, a little shy this time. “I need a tutor.”

You furrow your brows at him.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to pay me for that,” you say seriously. The last time you offered to tutor someone for free, they ended up blaming you for their failing grade and screaming about it all over social media. You needed money to compensate for that emotional trauma. “Microeconomics is hard to teach.”

“Well thankfully I’m a good student,” Jungkook teases. You stare at him with a deadpan face.

“You wouldn’t need my help if you were a good student,” you say blankly, standing up from your seat. “My hourly rate is 20,000 Won. Take it or leave it.”

Jungkook’s eye twitched. He had to spend his money to get Taehyung’s money? Well, the payout would be worth it in the end anyway. He reaches out a hand to you.

“If you’d have me,” he says cheekily, looking up at you. You take his hand in yours and maybe for a second you felt your heart skip a beat, but that was soon over when you let go of him.

“You have sweaty hands,” you say straightforwardly. You wipe your hand on your shirt and he coughs awkwardly at how unresponsive you truly were. Didn’t Jimin say you were a nice person?

You take your barely-touched lunch tray and walk away from his pensive figure.

“Wait, can I get your number?” he yells. You don’t look back.

“Alright, whatever,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll just ask Jimin, I guess.”

Without even a second glance, you disappear from his sight. He sits back on his chair, heaving out a deep sigh. Sure, this wasn’t the first girl that didn’t care much for his advances, but you didn’t even crack a smile or anything. This is going to be harder than he thought...

—

“She hates me,” Jungkook whines to Seokjin as they walked down the university halls to their next shared class. “Yesterday, I went up to her to get her number and I left with a fucking debt. Does that make any sense?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have taken on the bet,” Seokjin yawned. “Namjoon would have wooed her with his poetry by now or some shit.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s interested in a dude who can’t even put on a hat without causing an earthquake.”

Seokjin smacked him on the back.

“At least he’d have the guts to say no to having a fucking tutor,” Seokjin replies. “You dug your own grave, man. Now roll around in it.”

“Do you want me to succeed or not?”

“I want you to not be a fucking dumbass, Jungkook,” Seokjin sighs. “Do you really wanna make your reputation worse than it already is?”

Just as Jungkook was about to reply, he catches a glimpse of you walking farther ahead in the university courtyard. You were a bit far but he’s sure he could make it if he hurries. He smacks the binder he held in his right hand onto Seokjin’s chest.

“Yo, can you cover for me,” he asks hastily and Seokjin stares at him with a concerned gaze. He watches as Jungkook takes off his backpack and leaves it on the ground. Jungkook looked about ready to break out in a sprint.

“What the fuck, why?” Seokjin questions.

“Just tell the TA I’m out for a bit,” he says in response, already running ahead to catch up to you. “I’m winning this fucking bet or I’ll die trying.”

Jin stands still, mouth agape. Jungkook really left him with his backpack and binder just to talk to you. He shakes his head. ‘I need to make new friends,’ he thought to himself, picking up the discarded backpack and walking in the direction of the class Jungkook was planning to be late to.

You were walking with your earphones on, not noticing someone sprinting at you in record speed. You only turn your music off when Jungkook stops in front of you, his hands on his knees. He was panting heavily.

“Hey,” he says through deep breaths. You nod at him awkwardly.

“Why are you running?”

“I wanted to... catch up to you... and I thought... you were closer... but the run here... took... fucking... forever,” he says breathlessly. “Water. I need water.”

You take out a bottle from your tote bag hastily, handing it to him. He took it into his hands, grazing your fingers a bit. As he was about to start chugging it, you halted him.

“Waterfall,” you say curtly- you were still planning to drink out of it later after all.

He nods in response, a drop of sweat cascading the side of his neck. After he was done, there was practically no water left anyway. ‘I’m gonna have to refill it myself,’ you thought begrudgingly. You stuff it back into your bag and wait until his breaths become more even.

“A bit out of shape, huh?”

He scoffs and gives you a glare, clearly offended.

“I actually have a Taekwondo scholarship, you know that? I just wasn’t warmed up and I’m naturally sweaty so it’s not like-”

You laugh a little.

“I’m joking,” you say, a smile adorning your face. He feels his face turn red and he can’t help but purse his lips out of embarrassment. Jeon Jungkook couldn’t take a fucking joke.

“O-oh,” he says shyly, avoiding your gaze. Why was he acting more like an idiot than usual? You hear the chiming bells of the university tower and stare at your phone to check the time.

“Don’t you have a class?” you ask him. His eyes widen and soon he was dashing off again. He turns around mid-run, jogging backward to face you.

“My number is 06-1313-9197,” he yells, loud enough for the other late students in the courtyard to hear. Most of them roll their eyes, knowing that Jungkook was flirting with another girl yet again. You’re embarrassed by the amount of attention he’s getting, but punch his number on your phone anyway.

“Text me,” he shouts. “I’ll always respond to you.”

Now it was your turn to be flustered.

—

"That’s wrong,” you say, reaching over to Jungkook’s notebook and marking a large ‘X’ on his paper. “You’re not supposed to apply that function for this problem...”

Jungkook stared at you with a tired face. He didn’t think he was too bad at the mathematical aspect of Microeconomics, but it seemed like it was your life’s mission to make him look like an idiot. Of course, you caught every mistake that he made- even the ones he made on purpose just to see if you were really paying attention to his work and not bamboozling him.

“My bad,” he mutters, copying down the same problem on a different sheet of paper. He didn’t even get a chance to make a move on you today- not like he could make any big developments in the campus library anyway.

“Is it like this?” he asks, tilting his notebook to face you. You take a hard look at it and nod.

“Yeah, just make sure you know the difference between these two formulas, or else you’ll mess up on the midterm,” you say thoughtfully.

This was your fourth or fifth tutoring session by now? Truth be told he wasn’t really counting. Each moment he spent with you kind of blended together and he didn’t quite know if that was a bad thing or not.

“You know you’re not even struggling,” you say, your nose buried deep in your textbook. “It’s not like you’re completely clueless like Jimin. It seems like you’re wasting money on stuff you already know.”

Jungkook laughs heartily, getting shushed by the people around him. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yeah, well, it was just an excuse to hang out with the pretty girl in class, you know?” he says as nonchalantly as he could. You stare at him for a second and he swears he feels his body freeze over. If looks could kill...

You just shook your head with a click of your tongue and got back to reading.

“The pretty girl in class is most definitely not me,” you grumble. “If you wanted, I could’ve given you Soobin’s number without all the added hassle of you trying to come talk to me-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jungkook stops you from saying anything else. He looked worriedly at your face. “I don’t even know who the hell Soobin is, why would I want her number?”

You look at him and finally, you chuckle. ‘She really does have a nice smile,’ Jungkook thought to himself. It would be nice if he could make you laugh more often and not just on rare occasions like this.

“You’re saying you don’t know Yoongi’s ex?” you tease slightly. You were finally letting your guard down with him and Jungkook smirked. One wall down, another million more to go.

“Bold of you to assume that I know any of Yoongi’s exes,” he says and you scoff. “He’s an asshole when it comes to dating.”

You roll your eyes.

“Isn’t that your whole friend group?”

He pouts. You knew of his reputation after all. Jungkook thought he could get away playing a nice boy act, but it didn't seem possible considering your knowledge of him. A little white lie couldn’t hurt in the end.

“Not me,” he replies. “I choose my relationships pretty carefully.”

You take a glance at him before jotting down a few more words in your notebook.

“Well,” you start off, a little shy to admit what you were about to say, “I guess we both have that in common.”

He tilts his head rather cutely out of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

You cough awkwardly, adjusting yourself on one of the library’s notoriously squeaky seats.

“I’ve never really had a boyfriend before,” you say quietly. His eyes bulge out from their sockets.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Like, you’ve never been on a date or what?”

“I have,” you say hesitantly. “I’ve been on a few but they just never led into anything serious. I was pretty focused on studying in high school so there weren’t really any opportunities to get involved with someone. Plus, the guys who pursued me weren’t very... attractive.”

Jungkook laughs loudly again, much to the dismay of the other students in the library. He liked that you didn’t beat around the bush- it was easier to talk to you that way.

“And me?” he asks teasingly, laying his head on his arm that was atop the desk. He looks up at you with that boyish grin of his that gave you small butterflies in your stomach. You stare back at him, but only for a second. You ignore his watchful gaze and continue to flip through your textbook, trying to find the passage you last read. He keeps his eyes locked on you and you just couldn’t resist.

“What about you?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

“Am I attractive?” he replies as bluntly as he could. You stop your movements and he chuckles.

“You’re... cute,” you settle on that word. Cute. It was safe enough to not be misinterpreted too much. He sits up straight with a satisfied smirk. He takes his pen and draws a heart on the side of your notebook. He winks at you when you stare back at him, puzzled by his actions.

“You are too.”

—

“Tell me you’re lying,” Soobin whines disappointingly, shaking your shoulders. You were trying to eat lunch undisturbed in one of the campus cafes but your two friends seem hell-bent on making you suffer. “There’s no way you’re friends with Jungkook.”

You sigh, attempting to rid yourself of Soobin’s grasp but to no avail.

“He’s an asshole, [Y/N],” Gaeun sighs disappointingly. “I thought you were a feminist, why the fuck do you even tolerate him?”

You glare at her for a split second before going back to prying Soobin off you.

“Jungkook has no respect for women or himself. It shows in how many shitty friends he has,” Soobin chants, still clearly bitter that Yoongi dumped her.

You shake your head, rolling your shoulders back when she finally lets go of you.

“Jungkook’s not even as bad as you guys describe him,” you reply. “He’s actually been really sweet.”

The girls take a glance at each other and burst in a fit of laughter.

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Gaeun cries. You cower slightly at their words. It’s not like you said anything that controversial, did you?

Soobin slaps Gaeun on the shoulder when she realizes how your face had soured. It wasn’t right to judge you for your choice of friends so harshly, no matter how horrid said person was.

“As long as it doesn’t go past friends,” she says soothingly, but that only made you feel worse.

“Why?” you ask a little hesitantly. “Does Jungkook sleep around?”

Gaeun nods, a worrying glimpse in her eyes.

“He's not exactly the type to kiss and stay...”

You nod understandingly. You weren’t too clueless to believe Jungkook when he said he was “careful” on who he dated. As long as you knew the boundaries that came with being his tutor, everything should be fine... right?

“Don’t worry guys,” you say with determination. “I’m not the type to get played-”

“Of course you are!” Gaeun sighed. “Guys gravitate towards girls like you who lack experience. Jungkook’s a fucking weirdo, of course, he’s gonna try and-”

“[Y/N]!” a shout from across the cafe screams. That distracted you from the various insults Gaeun was spewing from her mouth. You get that she was being critical of Jungkook, but did she have to speak ill of you too?

You look around and catch Jungkook waving frantically at you. He stops at your table and takes a mere glance at your friends before setting his focus on you.

“Do you have time to help me out today? One of the papers for my writing class-”

“You tutor him in writing now, too?!” Soobin exclaimed, mouth agape. “[Y/N], what the fuck.”

You try to ignore your friend’s overreaction, a little disheartened when Jungkook looked hurt at their words. He had started to shy away from them as if he didn’t feel welcomed.

“Nevermind, I’ll just ask you later-”

“Actually,” you say standing up. “I’m free now.”

The two girls look back and forth between you and Jungkook, noticing the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. They did not like the thought of you two together at all.

“But [Y/N]-”

You ignored their words and start to walk away, hoping Jungkook would come catch up to you. You didn’t quite know why their insistence on him being a bad person had made your blood boil. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of his flirtatious tendencies, but hearing from your friends that you shouldn’t pursue a guy that you liked-

You stopped in your tracks and feel heat climb up your face. Like.

No way you admitted that just now. There’s no possible way you actually like-

“Hey, wait up,” Jungkook pants, his hand touching your shoulder. “Why do you walk so fast for-”

He sees your shocked face and turns you towards him, his hands on your shoulder similar to how Soobin had shaken you just earlier. Except this time, it felt comforting. It made your whole body feel warm as if you were coated with a weighted blanket. Was he always this gorgeous?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, inspecting your face closely. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“N-nothing,” you swipe his hands away and rush out the door of the cafe. He smirks at how flustered you look, maybe he did have an effect on you after all.

Jungkook takes a last glimpse at the two girls who sat in their seats, staring at him disapprovingly. He raised an eyebrow at them and shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans, following after you. ‘They’ll try to get in the way,’ Jungkook thought to himself, ‘but they’re already too late.’

The girls clenched their fist out of annoyance. He was definitely trying to get on their nerves.

“There’s something strange about what’s happening,” Gaeun mutters.

“They’re up to something,” Soobin agrees. “I don’t trust him at all.”

—

It’s been a week since you last spoke to your friends, not really wanting to read the messages they bombarded you with about how you should stay for away from Jungkook. It was hard to take any of their advice seriously when they were just badmouthing him without reason. They based all their opinions on him from rumors around the school and Soobin always felt the need to compare him to Yoongi even though they both had very different personalities. Well, at least to you they seemed very different.

Frankly, you were sick of their nagging and just turned off notifications from that group chat altogether. Instead of sitting next to them during Microeconomics, you opted to sit with Jungkook in the back of the lecture hall instead of at the front with them. Jungkook had abandoned his own rowdy friend group to sit with you and flashed them quick smirks and winks whenever they’d stare at him.

Slowly, Jungkook had started to become a constant in your day to day life. You walked to class with him, ate with him, played video games with him. It was sort of strange how used to you were of his presence, like you had known him your whole life. Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he starts humming a little tune.

He draws a heart in the corner of your notes- which you find he has a habit of doing whenever he wanted to say something stupid.

“I don’t get what he’s saying,” he pouts cutely. “It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language.”

You shake your head, not paying him any mind.

“Well maybe if you actually paid attention,” you mutter softly. He scoots closer to you and you feel yourself stiffen.

“But you’re tutoring me later on anyway,” he says teasingly. “I get more bang for my buck if I know less.”

“Bang for my buck,” you scoff. “Who even says that anymore?”

He points at himself nonchalantly and you can’t help but crack a smile as you continue to focus on the professor’s words. You don’t even cower under his gaze like you usually do when he stares at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“What do you want?” you ask, finally caving when Professor Kwon adjusted something in his PowerPoint slides. He smiles.

“I want to hold your hand,” Jungkook replies and you could feel your palms clam up. His flirtatious comments increased as time passed and you didn’t really quite know whether he was just teasing you or if he was genuinely interested in you. You weren’t very good at taking a hint.

“I’m writing right now...” you reply, slightly skipping a beat in your note-taking. He really was the ultimate distraction, wasn’t he?

Jungkook pouts sadly, but you can tell an idea pops up in his mind when his eyes start to glimmer. He sits his hand on your thigh and you jolt back from the touch of his hand on the material of your jeans. He pulls away slightly, scared that he had made you uncomfortable.

“I just want to put my arm around you,” he asks innocently. “Are you okay with that?”

You calm yourself down and nod. For goodness sake, you weren’t a child- why did a hand on your thigh make you so nervous for?!

“Yeah,” you say, a little more confident despite your nerves. “Go ahead.”

He smiles softly at you and connects his hand to your waist, pulling you a little closer to him. It was comforting, not at all meant to be more than just a public display of affection. He finds himself getting lost in the lecture along with you, his hand playing with a loose thread on your shirt through it all. He didn’t even look at his friends who were teasing him on the other side of the class or your own friends shooting daggers into his being.

At that moment, it was you, him, and Professor Kwon giving out a lecture that had half of the students already asleep. He smiled at how diligently you worked and how your breath would quicken when Professor Kwon switched the slides without a warning. It was the little idiosyncrasies like this that caught his attention, the kind of things that made him wonder where you’d been all his life.

The smile on Jungkook’s face disappeared when he came to that realization.

Fuck.

—

Jungkook rolls around the grass while you sit on the picnic blanket you two had set up. Midterms were over and grades would soon be announced. He wanted a much-needed distraction from the monotony of constant studying and you had suggested a small picnic in a nearby park. Of course, he agreed.

“We’re free,” he groans. “Finally free.”

Jungkook stares hungrily at the assortment of food you had laid out for the two of you. He tries to reach a hand out to grab a bottle of lemonade but ultimately fails in the end. You giggle at his silliness, popping a grape in your mouth.

“You’re welcome by the way,” you say jokingly. “Don’t think you could’ve done it without me.”

He sits up to face you, bowing deeply as if you were a traditional empress.

“Thank you,” he says, imitating a Joseon accent. He was watching far too many historical dramas recently.

“You’re embarrassing me,” you say, attempting to straighten him out. “Sit up.”

He complies, only after a few pulls from you, with a toothy grin on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t think I could have gone through the first few weeks of Professor Kwon’s class without your notes,” he sighs, opening his mouth to signal that he wanted to be fed. You roll your eyes but placed a grape between his teeth anyway.

“You have hands, you should know how to use them,” you mumble shyly.

You move to take another grape for yourself, but he grabs your wrist before you could. He intertwines his fingers into yours.

“Why should I when my hands are holding yours~,” he says in a sing-song voice. It made you want to throw up at how cheesy he was, but you couldn’t help but laugh along as he cringed at his own words. When was it so normal for him to hold your hands like this?

“You can’t go one sentence without flirting, can you?” you sigh, feigning annoyance.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies, but you could feel sincerity laced between his laughter. “I can’t resist flirting when it makes you all giggly like this.”

You purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling too brightly. Jungkook and you were somewhat past the point of being just friends by now, but you were too much of a coward to label what you had with him. What if there was a chance that he was just leading you on?

Jungkook saw your furrowed brows. He rubbed circles on your hands with his thumbs to ease you.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks softly, about to let go.

“No-” you say a little too quickly, clasping him closer to you. Your faces were inches apart now, much nearer than they were before.

“D-don’t,” you attempt to say but you’re tongue tangled as you looked at his lips. He certainly does have nice lips...

“Don’t what?” he asks in a lowly voice. You start to look around you- anywhere that wasn’t him. The park was relatively empty but it still felt embarrassing to say anything too loud.

“D-don’t let me go,” you say, your eyes on the picnic blanket rather than on him. His gaze was too intense to look at. Jungkook feels his heart clench. You were cute, too cute.

He shouldn’t be feeling this attached to you, but he couldn’t help it. Everything you did, every word that came out of your mouth- it had him wanting more from you than he could possibly handle. It was dangerous to feel this way.

“Why don’t you want me to let you go?” he asks nervously. He too was anxious for the answer. If you were to confess to Jungkook right now, he’d get the first part of the bet done, but there’d be no turning back after your confession. He would have to lie to you from now on.

Jungkook closed his eyes, chanting to himself that it’s okay to like you for a little while, just as long as he doesn’t get too attached in the end. He needed the money, he really did.

“Because,” you start off with a sigh, staring at him now with glossy eyes. “I like you.”

Jungkook feels like he could do ten backflips in one go and it wouldn’t even drain him of energy. The smile on his face was huge, his eyes curling into that half-moon shape that made you swoon.

Jungkook was relieved and if the boys asked, it was because he’d only have to date you for three months. He’d die before he’d admit to them that he caught feelings because Taehyung, as generous as he was with his bets, would never give Jungkook the money unless he cleanly broke up with you. It was one of his unspoken rules.

“I like you too.”

You smile at him and he can’t help but pull you close, his lips hovering over yours.

“Can I?”

You nod.

His lips graze yours slightly but he pushes a bit closer when he feels you lean into his touch. He kisses you again, and again, and again, but you pull away when his tongue had started to prod at your lips. Your face was flushed, embarrassed to be doing this in such a public place.

“Maybe later?” you say, panting slightly. He gives you a cheeky grin and nods.

“At my place?” he asks with a wink.

You hesitate, letting go of his arms, twiddling with your fingers. You wanted to set clear labels on what your relationship was. You didn't want to accidentally get caught up in a friends-with-benefits situation and be all shocked when Jungkook ends up breaking your heart.

“So we’re dating now, right?” you ask cautiously, looking at him with a worried glint in your eyes.

Jungkook’s mouth opens to speak but no words come out. He thinks a little harder about the whole situation... He was getting good grades, spending some quality time with a girl he’s clearly attracted to, and having his rent paid off all in one? He was killing three birds with one stone. It shouldn’t be too big of a problem to catch feelings for now, right? It’s not like any of his relationships lasted longer than a couple of months anyway.

He nods, cupping your face lightly.

“Yeah,” he hesitates. “We’re dating.”

Jungkook wasn’t aware, as he gives you another light peck, that it wasn’t possible to have his cake and eat it too.

—

It happens naturally. You coming in and out of his apartment that he shared with his friends, you tangling your legs with his underneath the sheets of his bed. It was hard to imagine a life where you didn’t wake up with him by your side. You were so wrapped up in his touch, so wrapped up in the sweet words he would whisper into your ears, that you spent most of your time with him.

You weren’t really up to date with your friends anymore and he didn’t really hang out with his either. Jungkook shared an apartment with Seokjin and Hoseok, and so the only contact he had with the other boys was when they visited those two. He should’ve known to take you back home when all the boys bombarded into his living room, where you sat with him watching TV.

“The lovebirds are at it again,” Taehyung coos, a mysterious glint in his eyes. “The honeymoon stage hasn’t passed quite yet, has it?”

Jungkook chucks one of the sofa’s throw pillows at his friend, obviously annoyed. What the fuck did Taehyung think he was doing?

“Quit it,” he mutters. You were sitting next to Jungkook, his arm around your shoulder protectively

“Why?” Yoongi yawns. “Anyone can see how incredibly in love you two are.”

You didn’t quite like the smirk he gave the two of you. This didn’t feel like regular teasing... it felt like he knew something that you weren't aware of. It made you curl your toes out of fear.

“Guys,” Jimin says calmly. “Stop it.”

The boys shrug their shoulders as if they said nothing wrong.

“We’re just pointing out how cute they are together,” Taehyung noted, “It’s not like we’re lying to her or anything-”

“Yeah, or leading her on or anything like that-”

“I think I should go,” you say hurriedly, uncomfortable at how tense the atmosphere was. Jungkook was clenching his fists, about ready to start a fight any second. Knowing his strength, you didn’t want anyone to walk around with a bruised eye because you couldn’t handle a few jokes- if that’s what Taehyung and Yoongi think they’re making. Harmless jokes.

“I’ll take you home,” Jungkook announces, standing up with you. Namjoon pulls him down back on the couch.

“Let someone else take her,” he says sternly. “We need to talk.”

Jungkook was about to protest until you spoke up.

“I can get home by myself just fine.”

“Hoseok and I can take you,” Seokjin insists, pulling the unassuming man up with him. “We don’t mind.”

Hoseok gives you a lopsided smile and you return an equally awkward one.

“Okay, that’s settled,” you say, clapping your hands. You walk over to Jungkook. “I’ll text you later okay?”

He nods, grabbing your hand and kissing it lightly. Yoongi scoffs and Taehyung glares at Jungkook. The dirty glances they were giving each other... You didn’t like it at all.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

—

The walk to your apartment was unnecessarily awkward, Hoseok and Seokjin were talking too much and you talked too little. You tried to respond to their every quip, but you weren’t in the mood for chatting after that whole mess.

“You okay, [Y/N]?” Hoseok asks worriedly. “Don’t think too much about what those idiots said back there, they’re like that all the time.”

You nod, keeping your eyes on the ground. There was something chipping away at the back of your mind, something you wanted to get out of your chest.

“Would you say Jungkook and Yoongi act similarly?” you hesitate to say, “like with relationships?”

The two boys exchanged nervous glances at each other.

“Well, it depends,” Seokjin starts, choosing his words specifically. “What about relationships specifically?”

“Does he...,” you start off, not knowing the right phrase without sounding too harsh, “play around with girls? Like how Yoongi played around with Soobin?”

Hoseok looked at you with a raised brow.

“Who’s Soobin?” he asks before getting punched in the arm by Seokjin. “What the fuck bro!”

Seokjin clears his throat.

“What Hoseok meant to say,” he starts, glaring at his friend a little too harshly, “is that Yoongi never really introduces us to his girlfriends. You, on the other hand, are one of the few girls Jungkook actually took the time to invite over.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok chimes in. “He’s not exactly the most chivalrous, but he wouldn’t ghost someone like Yoongi did.”

Somehow their words weren’t enough to satisfy you. There was still something off in the conversation that transpired between the three boys- as if they were all keeping something from you. You stopped abruptly in front of your apartment complex, finally making eye-contact with the two boys.

“Do you think...” you start, a slight quiver in your voice, “that Jungkook is cheating on me?”

The two boys let out a deep breath that you didn’t even notice they were holding and laughed joyously together. They cackled as if what you said was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their life. Seokjin wipes a stray tear from his eye.

“Y-you think Jungkook’s cheating on you?!”

You nod, a little embarrassed at their reaction. Hoseok shakes his head, sighing out of his laughter.

“Trust me,” Hoseok starts, his breath evening out. “Jungkook would never cheat on you.”

You start to giggle along with them until a serious look suddenly takes over Seokjin’s features. He faces you fully.

“But listen [Y/N],” he starts. “If Jungkook hurts you, just know that he does love you. Like, undeniably. He does.”

“And we’re not just saying that as his friends either,” Hoseok continues. “We know how he’s like and we can tell that he really does like you.”

You smile at the two, feeling a small sense of comfort at their words.

“Thank you, guys. I mean it.”

They pat you on the back.

“Anything for Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

—

You walk through the campus cafeteria, eyes searching for a free table that you can sit alone in. Jungkook had Taekwondo practice so there would be no lovey-dovey feeding time with him.

He’s been a lot tenser since the living room incident (which was already a week ago) and it seemed like he got more agitated as the days passed. Not towards you directly, but he’d always mutter slight insults whenever Yoongi or Taehyung passed by. It made you worried that you had done something to possibly drive a wrench into their relationship without even knowing it.

‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘I’ll talk about it with him when he comes over later.’

You aren’t able to find a seat, though, when you feel dainty fingers wrap around your elbow to pull you back lightly.

“[Y/N],” Gaeun says in a low voice. “We need to talk.”

It wasn’t like you had been ignoring them deliberately, though that was definitely the case at the start. You just couldn’t find the time to really hang out with them as much as you used to since you were with Jungkook most of the time. It was like that too when Gaeun and Soobin were in relationships, so you never really felt bad about doing it yourself.

“Yeah sure. I miss you guys,” you smile at her, but she doesn’t return it back.

“Come with me.”

Gaeun leads you to a table near the back of the room, where Soobin was sat up against the wall with her own tray of food. You sit down in front of her and Gaeun takes the seat next to Soobin.

“Good, you’re here,” Soobin says, apprehension laced in her voice. “We need to talk about Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes.

“Not this again-”

“[Y/N],” Gaeun warns. “Listen.”

You keep quiet, a little intimidated of how scary their expressions were.

“It’s all a bet,” Soobin says sternly.

You furrow your brows at her. She tends to speak vaguely when you needed her to be specific the most.

“What?”

“It’s a bet, [Y/N],” Gaeun repeats for her. “Jungkook’s only dating you because Taehyung said he’d pay his rent off if he did.”

You clench your fist on the table. How could they sit there and spew lies so easily?

“What are you guys-”

“Those dicks do this all the time,” Soobin rambles. “They play stupid games with girls just to fucking break their hearts later on and-”

“I don’t believe you,” you say confidently. “Jungkook would never do that to me. Besides-”

Gaeun didn’t even wait until you stopped talking to play a recording on her phone. The voices were familiar enough to recognize.

“So you’re telling me that Jungkook’s just fucking around with [Y/N] because he wants priority registration? You have to be fucking joking...”

You could tell from the sound of the person’s voice that it was Soobin. It sounded like she was putting on her clothes.

“Of course not. He’s doing it for priority registration and his rent getting paid for the rest of the year. I’m not joking when I say Tae goes big with his bets. He likes to flex his money on us like that.”

Your jaw drops at the sound of the man’s voice. It was Yoongi. You were sure of it.

“And you guys don’t feel bad? Like at all?”

“Why should we? Jungkook’s planning to break up with her next week anyway so she doesn’t catch feelings for too long. It’s not like they were gonna last past the three-month deal...”

Gaeun paused the recording when she sees you bite your lip so harshly that blood starts to surface. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

“I hooked up with him last weekend,” Soobin admits, shame written all over her face. “He was spewing stuff about Jungkook spending all his time with you and not really hanging out with the boys like he used to.”

“You still hook up with Yoongi? After all he did to you?” you ask, not meaning to come off aggressive but undoubtedly did.

“Look,” Gauen starts, taking the heat off of Soobin. “She was just drunk and looking to have fun. I was with her that night and I was talking to Namjoon. He...”

Gaeun trailed off, but you were sick of it. Sick of being kept in the dark from something you should’ve known all along.

“What?”

“H-he told me that all the boys were getting tired of him playing around with you,” she says, twiddling with her fingers. “He’s supposed to break up with you today. Some of the guys think he’s just prolonging it to fuck with you and they’re getting really annoyed-”

You bite back the tears threatening to spill over any minute now.

“Hoseok and Seokjin told me to trust Jungkook. They said he wouldn’t hurt me-”

“Did they also tell you that their rent gets paid too if Jungkook pulled through with the bet?” Soobin replies angrily. “Because they live together, don’t they?”

You open your mouth but no sound comes out- just a small whimper. Your lips start to quiver and you bite your lip again to calm yourself down. When you had collected your thoughts, you glared up at the two girls.

“And you didn’t tell me this earlier?”

Soobin scoffed.

“You were fucking ignoring us too, how were we supposed to tell you?”

“Still it wouldn’t have killed you to-”

“Don’t take your anger out on us,” Gaeun warns, her finger pointing at you. “Jungkook is the one to blame. We told you from the start that he was bad news.”

You pursed your lips and Gaeun put her finger down, feeling guilty that she lashed out on you when obviously you were just processing the information.

“Hey, I’m sorry-”

“Why me?” you ask with teary eyes. “What did I even do to them to deserve this?”

They glance over at each other for a long while before Soobin breaks the silence. You had the right to know, but at the same time, they knew it would break you.

“It’s a sick game that they play where they just choose someone randomly...” Soobin starts off gently handing off the next few words to Gaeun, “and you were just the first girl to walk into Professor Kwon’s lecture hall. He thought you’d be...”

“Easy,” Soobin finished.

Just as they predicted, you had burst out in tears.

—

Jungkook opens the door to your apartment, using the spare key you had given him a month earlier since he tended to visit often. It was more convenient that way.

He was freshly out of his Taekwondo garb, still sweaty, but otherwise clean from taking a shower at the campus gym. He found it strange at how dark the room was, but he knew you were on the couch from the noticeable lump of a blanket on it.

All Jungkook wanted was to cuddle with you and fall asleep in your arms after such a harrowing day. Lord knows he needs your warmth right now.

He smiled as he made his way towards you, but stops in his tracks when you sit up from where you laid. He couldn’t quite see you in the darkness so he walked to the light switch to turn the lights on. His heart broke at the sight of you.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes red and puffy from all the crying. You looked a mess and his blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting you.

“What happened?” he asked, rushing over to you and cupping your face in his hands. You push him away.

“You don’t have to act anymore,” you say softly. “I can handle it.”

He looks at you with furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about-”

“I get that you really need the money,” you say through bated breaths, “I get that financially, it would have really helped, but did you really have to hurt me to do that?”

Jungkook’s breathing stopped. Everything was happening too quickly, his world crashing down when you uttered those words. He knew what this meant, knew that now you would see past his lies. Jungkook couldn’t have you finding out this way.

He kneeled in front of you, attempting to wipe away the tears from your eyes but you push him off.

“[Y/N] no-”

“It could’ve been anyone,” you whimper, trying to look up at the ceiling to prevent any more tears from falling down. “Anyone could’ve walked through that door and you would’ve been okay with it.”

“That’s not true-” he interjects but you stop him.

“A-and you flirted with me all the time ‘cause you knew that I wasn’t used to it,” you say, your voice quivering. “You took advantage of me.”

Jungkook shakes his head rapidly, eyes pleading for you to let him speak. It hurt seeing you refuse to even look at him, to have your eyes so filled with sadness because of what he did to you. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad.

“No, you have to listen-”

“They told me not to trust you,” you whimper somberly. “They told me and I didn’t believe them because I... I was delusional or something. I thought that someone like you could actually like someone like me-”

His heart broke. It wasn’t you that didn’t deserve him. It was him. All him.

“Please don’t say that-”

“Did you come here to seal the deal? To finally break up with me?” you ask sadly. “Are you happy you’ll get the classes you want next quarter, Jungkook?”

He clenches his teeth. Jungkook knows you’re mad, knows you have a right to be, but it feels like he’s being cornered by you. Why won’t you give him the chance to speak?

“[Y/N], no,” he says sternly, “You have to trust me when I say that it went past just a bet. I like you. Genuinely, I like you.”

There was no point in lying any longer. You deserved to know the truth, but he needed you to know all of it- not just the information your friends cherry-picked to fit their narrative. He tried to speak again, but you wouldn’t let him.

“How could you,” you whimper. “How could someone be so cruel?”

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the words. He should’ve seen this coming. How could he delude himself into thinking he’d be okay if you find out- that he’d be fine seeing you heartbroken? He was disgusted with himself.

“I’m sorry [Y/N],” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your vision getting blurry from the tears. He clasps your hands in his, knowing that it used to soothe you whenever you felt worried over something, but you just wailed harder at his touch. He didn’t know what to do, he didn't even know where to start.

“Stop pretending like you care,” you cry. “Please. It hurts.”

“It was a bet,” he admits and he breaths through the words to prevent himself from getting too emotional, “but I promise that my feelings are genuine. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” you ask crudely.

You stare at him, slowing your breaths to ease the crying. There was a certain emptiness in your gaze and it scared him. It was awfully frightening having you looking at him with a certain animosity that was not there before. Like he was a stranger.

“I can’t do that anymore, Jungkook,” you say softly, “because I hate you.”

—

A/N: Gasp A double update?! Say it isn’t so... I had so much fun writing this!!! Probably one of my favorite fics I’ve written in a while because I love this trope. How do y’all feel about Jungkook? Forgive or forget? Let me know!! Thank you @altus-gens for requesting this story, I hope you like it :)

Please leave any comment, critiques, or just random thoughts about my story! I’m planning my murder mystery series rn and I’m so excited (I might... do an album giveaway along with it...) I really love the direction I’m taking this blog in and I hope you guys are excited for the stories to come~~

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Text

bad boy good thing iii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 393

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re bailing again?” Taehyung looks up from his stack of books for the first time in the last hour since the two of you have started your study date. Granted, he meant no spite but he didn’t understand what set you to flee. The name that was almost taboo to you; the name that brings more tugs to your heart that hurts than one that’s fond.

You glance up at him with meek eyes, “I have an office hour with my economics professor in half an hour.”

Taehyung purses his lips.

“This is the fourth time this week you’ve ditched.” Taehyung sounds mildly irritated and you don’t blame him. You made a promise months ago before mid-terms coming up that you’d help him with statistics. But before the two of you could ever get into the nitty-gritty details of math; somehow the forbidden name comes up.

“I know.” You say softly. “I’m sorry …” You don’t say anything else because your heart is speeding up in a way that is anxiety-inducing. Because Taehyung off-handedly mentioned that Jungkook would be dropping by in a few; and you didn’t know when he’d turn up and you rather not stick around to find out.

His words still linger in your mind and every time there was any prompt to remind you of his face, or his name—you remember the way his words sounded so assured in the context of the situation first. You remember the malevolence that lied behind his usually kind eyes. But it’s like the eyes filled with desire in a one-dimensional view of your body replaced the youthful mirth you grew up with.

“Look.” Taehyung sighs, pushing himself up to look at you with a stern stare. “If you don’t want to tutor me that’s fine. I can find another tutor. But I’d appreciate if you’d let me know beforehand so I don’t have to come all the way just for an hour then have you leave once the content begins to get tougher.”

Taehyung was by no means being rude or outwardly offensive. He was straightforward and you appreciated that he was honest with you. And rather, you feel guilty of the fact that you bailed for your own selfish reasons.

“I do want to tutor you.” You tell him, fiddling with your fingers as your eyes dart to the doors of the library. “It really just slipped my mind.”

It sounds lame, even to you; and Taehyung picks up on it too.

“You don’t forget things like this.” He says pointedly. “It’s like every time I mention—”

Taehyung stops himself and your eyes dart away, hands already tugging your bag over your shoulder. Maybe if you sped up, he wouldn’t stare at you with an inquisitive stare that looked similar to one of realisation.

“Did something happen between you and Kook?”

You wince. Taehyung is observant.

“Are the two of you—?”

“I’m fine.” You snap, tone defensive and on edge when you hear the bell of the library door ring. You don’t dare to turn to look. “We’re fine.”

“_____ …” Taehyung frowns.

“I gotta go. Okay?” You huff, offering one last apologetic look before you turn to leave. But in your haste, you bump into a solid figure and you’re terrified that it’s—

“Careful.” A deeper, unfamiliar but welcomed voice murmurs.

When your eyes look up, it’s just someone you recognise from Jungkook’s football games. You were sure he was a key player too. His stature was definitely one of an athlete. He was tall, broad, and firm; and the black shirt that hugged his chest only emphasised your guess.

“S-Sorry.” You squeak, looking down.

You brush past him before he can get another word in, and only when you slip past him do you see Jungkook lingering behind with a frown on his face.

“______—” He calls.

You’re able to leave before he can get a hold of you; and that only causes the frown on Jungkook’s face to harden.

When the door rings once more to signal your departure, Jungkook is already sat with Taehyung and the other person that bumped into you.

“What’s up with the two of you?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook stiffens and responds with a grit of his teeth. “Nothing.”

Taehyung doesn’t look convinced and Namjoon—though recently enlightened with the fact that there was potentially something brewing between the two of you—was also observant enough to pick up on the tense atmosphere that you left with.

“Aren’t the two of you super close?” Namjoon says offhandedly, already shifting through his assignments while he lays them out.

Jungkook wants to let out a dry scoff at the assumption. Sure, the two of you were close. He isn’t so sure about that anymore.

“You’re clearly lying to me.” Taehyung snorts. “So whatever it is the two of you are keeping a secret please just sort it out because I need _____ here to tutor me and you’re getting in the way of my education.”

Taehyung mostly says this as a joke, but it strikes Jungkook straight where it’s vulnerable. He wasn’t going to be the first to break, nor will he indulge Taehyung into what he said to you in the same library they were in at this very moment.

So instead, Jungkook brushes it off like he’s been doing so more recently than ever.

“Whatever.” He mutters.

For some reason, you see Jungkook again on the same day—accompanied by the same person that you bumped into.

You realise that you’ve spent more time avoiding him than dealing with your feelings after what transpired. But you’re weak and you suppose you’ve always been weak when it came to Jungkook.

It was difficult … to say the least. Because while Jungkook’s words were malicious and filled with the intent to hurt and break you; the better (and foolish) part of you wanted to believe that he was angry. Driven by emotions that he wasn’t thinking straight. But while you were naive, you were also substantially aware that there had to be some form of truth to the words he’s thrown at you.

But this was the same Jungkook that you grew up with, the young boy you’ve somehow seen transition from awkward and endearing teen to … to the confident and assured man he was. You didn’t want to make any excuses for him but you’ve always been soft. And you hated that your eyes somehow still linger on his approaching figure when the rational side of your brain tells you to run away.

However, it’s not him who greets you. It’s his friend. The one you vaguely recognise but can’t quite put a name to a face.

“Hey!” He calls out to you.

His smile is easy with a dimple appearing on his cheeks. He looks kind and soft for someone that was easily a head taller than you were, and despite his height—there was something oddly comforting about the way he approaches you as if he knows you.

You try to ignore the coldness from Jungkook’s end and remind yourself that you should’ve felt angry—not the other way around.

“Hi?” You say, or more appropriately ask.

Jungkook’s expression is still blank; every time your eyes briefly linger on his face you wonder how it’d ended up this way.

“_____, right? I’ve seen you at a few of our games.” His friend enters a conversation so seamlessly. “Kook’s never introduced us, though.”

You clear your throat and you hope your face isn’t a dead giveaway of your discomfort. Especially when you blatantly ignore Jungkook’s piercing stare on the side of your temple.

“I don’t … mingle around that much.” You say softly,

And it’s parallel to the image that Jungkook has of you. The quiet, timid girl that’s free time is consumed with books and assignments than a social life to make up for it. You used to think that maybe you weren’t the type that enjoyed large or loud gatherings. But Jungkook’s voice only makes you wonder if you were the problem instead.

“Well, I’m Namjoon.” He smiles at you, offering a grin filled with teeth that you find yourself unconsciously returning, albeit awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you … uh … Namjoon.” You mumble, and your eyes nearly land on Jungkook’s face out of pure habit, but you stop yourself before you hurt yourself even more.

“It’s nice to formally meet you too. I’ve been asking Jungkook to introduce the two of us since forever ago but he seemed dead set on keeping you to himself.” Namjoon jokes lightly. And you almost miss it, but you swear Jungkook stiffens by his side.

“Ah …” You reply lamely, fingering your strap as you shift on your heels.

It feels awkward to not acknowledge Jungkook; you’re wondering if Namjoon picks up on the cold air between the both of you. Namjoon looks like he’s thinking of something, but before he can say anything—Jungkook is tugging his arm roughly.

“We have practice.” Jungkook grits, finally making himself known.

Your eyes dart to your feet, and you hate how small you feel in his presence. It should’ve been easy but this was the hardest part of it all. Pretending like you were objectively okay when his words constantly lingered at the back of your mind.

“Go ahead without me. I want to ask _____ something.” Namjoon shrugs Jungkook’s hand off of him. And this time you catch the venomous glare that he shoots his friend, accompanied by the clench of his jaw.

“Coach will—”

“I’m the captain, remember?” Namjoon snorts, but it’s not condescending. Just a reminder.

Jungkook purses his lips and his eyes dart between the two of you; and you know him well enough to know that there’s something on his mind, especially with the way he nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Don’t be late.” Jungkook grits, stomping off in the other direction without even sparing you a glance.

You frown at him because he was the one that came to you that day unwarranted; treating you like absolutely nothing as if there weren’t years of history behind the two of you.

But Namjoon is large enough to distract you because he quite literally blocks the view of Jungkook’s disappearing body with his own when he stands right in front of you.

“Sorry about that.” Namjoon looks sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind …” He trails off as he scratches the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “N-No! It’s fine. Just … uh … what’s up?” You wince inwardly at your horrible social skills and you have a slight understanding of why Jungkook pointed out the things he did. Maybe he was right—

“I—well …” Namjoon mumbles, and he seems less assured than he was earlier. “I think—you’re really—cool?—and smart—you seem nice so … sorry! God.” He rambles as he brushes his hands over his face.

You blink at him.

Namjoon takes your reaction as a bad one as he winces, chuckling lowly.

“I’m sorry. I’m not this … awkward.” He tells you.

You nod your head slowly trying to process his words. And you feel a little guilty knowing that your lack of response probably pushes Namjoon further into his shell. But he has a glare in his eye that shows that he won’t be affected so easily.

“Well.” He clears his throat. “I follow your podcast. And I think it’s really great. You offer some really interesting perspectives on the War on Drugs—or as you mentioned—the disproportionate effects of racial tension that lead to unjustified or mass incarceration rates in the U.S.”

Somehow you know you’ve said the exact same words in the monthly podcast you do with the International Relations department for extra credit. But when Namjoon speaks, it’s as if he’s carefully picking apart the context and nuance of your words so carefully before he quotes it back to you; as if he treats your opinion with heavy regard and not one of the light matters.

You feel flattered.

“Oh.” You blink. “Thank you?”

Namjoon offers you an easy grin. And you recall: captain of the football team, he says? He doesn’t really … fit the stereotype. Besides the fact that he looked insanely fit. He was gentle, that much you could tell. But you also were a little biased when it came to footballers because you only had Jungkook to compare him with.

“Sorry for just springing that on you.” He apologises sheepishly and you’re even more confused as to why he feels the need to say sorry. “It’s just that Kook was always so bitchy about introducing me to you whenever I asked so … I thought why not take the chance myself?”

You gape at him. You don’t know what to do with the set of new information you’re presented with. Firstly, the fact that someone like Namjoon paid attention to a nobody like you? And secondly, the weird revelation that Jungkook somehow gate kept his friendship … or whatever the fuck it was … with you.

“No, no.” You shake your head, “I’m really flattered. Thank you. No one’s ever … told me that before.” You give him a gentle smile because that’s all you can muster.

Namjoon returns it tenfold as he hikes his bag across his shoulder.

“Well, I gotta go now. Practice calls.” He jokes, waving at you. For a moment, he stills; as if remembering something before he fishes out a piece of paper from his pocket and shoves it to you in a haste.

“What is—?”

“My number. You know—if you ever want to talk. About … stuff. I think you’re super smart—and intelligent. They’re synonymous but yeah. If you want.” He rambles.

You blink up at him and before you can muster a response, he’s darting away.

You watch his figure retreat and notice that Jungkook is waiting for him a good distance away. But his eyes aren’t on Namjoon’s somewhat giddy figure—but on you.

He stares at you long and hard, and you feel conflicted. The paper in your hand nearly chafes, but the feeling is easily forgotten when his expression hardens.

When Namjoon reaches him with a clasp to his back, the pair walks off. Not before he gives you one passing glance over his shoulder that leaves you feeling more restless than ever.

558 notes · View notes

chilligyu · 3 years

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info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

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teddy06writes · 4 years

Text

Some unspoken thing

Karl Jacobs x Reader

requested: no

Trigger warnings: mentions of covid, mild descriptions of a panic attack

premise: You and Karl have been friends, for years now, and now even your friends are starting to see that unspoken thing between you

“---” talking

‘---’ talking through a call

(y/s/n) - your screen name

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’d known Karl since you were at least 10, and you both agreed that you’d been together forever, through thick and thin it was always you and Karl against the world. You and your unspoken thing.

When he’d first spoken of moving away from Portland you weren’t too sure, mostly because of college, but still, you found yourself here, sprawled across a couch, exhausted from hauling boxes up to your apartment.

“Why did we bring so much stuff?” You groaned as Karl picked up your legs long enough to sit down, then letting them drop into his lap.

He sighed, “Don’t quote me on this, but it was you who couldn’t pack your stuff into less than 20 boxes.”

“Yah okay Mr. ‘I can’t be bothered to even clean this laundry before I pack it up to leave’.” You scoffed.

“That's not true! I washed most of it...” Karl trailed off pulling out his phone, “Pizza?”

“Obviously.”

Soon the pizza arrived and as Karl went to the door to grab it, you went and grabbed two monsters from the fridge, sitting back down in front of the couch as Karl came back with the pizza.

“Ey I gotta pizza here!” He exclaimed, setting it down.

“Eyyyyyyy!” You handed him one of the monsters, opening your own as he sat down, already starting to pull up an old episode of survivor.

Once the pizza had been finished, and the left overs put away you ended up half cuddled together on the couch, your fingers softly carding through his hair.

“Hey! I’m back!” You called, looking around the seemingly empty apartment, confused, “Karl?”

It had been a few months since, you’d moved out to North Carolina, and so far online school hadn’t been too bad even when corona hit, not with Karl and streaming to distract you from the reality of the world around you.

You went back to looking around for your friend, calling, “Hey, Karl where’d you go?”

Sighing you followed the soft, muffled sobs to Karl’s room, knocking on the door softly, “Honey, are you in there?”

There was silence, then a muffled, “un uh.”

You pushed open the door gently, blinking into the mild darkness and turning to see Karl sitting on his bed, half curled into the wall and wrapped in a sweater he’d stolen from your closest a few weeks ago.

Immediately you crossed the room, climbing onto the bed next to him and pulling him into your arms, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

His arms drifted around your waist, burying his into your chest, “They all hate me.” He murmured.

“Who do you think hates you?” You cooed.

“Dream and Sapnap and everyone.”

“They don’t hate you, no one on the smp hates you.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “What happened?”

“I said somethin stupid, (y/n), I messed everything up.”

You knew not to push any further, instead just doing your best to hold him closer, whispering, “They don’t hate you, they’d never hate you okay? It’ll all blow over and everything will be okay. I promise.”

“What if it doesn’t (y/n)? What if I messed it up forever?”

“You didn’t baby, you didn’t. It’s gonna be alright, I promise.”

“Ahhhhhh leave me alone!” You half shrieked, running away from Sapnap and Quackity on the dream SMP.

‘Imposter! Imposter!’ They chanted.

“I’m just supposed to be babysitting the chat!” You yelled, “I didn’t sign up to bully on a twitch stream! If I wanted that I would’ve been on my own stream!”

Sapnap laughed, ‘Oof! That's sad.’

“I know,” You said dramatically, “No one has any respect for (y/s/n), not you, not my chat, not even Karl!”

‘We all know thats not true.’ Quackity scoffed.

You half turned, giggling as Karl, came back into the room, “Debatable.”

“What’s uh, whats going on?” He asked.

“I’m being bullied, that's what's going on,” The chat started to fill with hearts and ‘(y/s/n) support.’, “Also I’ve decided since your chat likes me more than mine, so this is my stream now, I’m taking over.”

Karl just half sighed, grabbing the chair from your desk on the other side of the office, and wheeling it over, sitting down next to you, propping his legs in your lap.

‘(y/n) the world wants to know, how does it feel to now fill the void where Karl Jacobs once sat?’ Quackity asked, through a voice filter.

“Well, since my dear friend Karl died,”

“I’m not dead!” He interjected.

You sniffed, “Sometimes I can still hear his voice.”

“Dear friend?” Sapnap scoffed, “Al- Quackity look at the stream and tell me if they look like ‘dear friends’.”

You face started to grow red, as both Nick and Alex began to catcall at you two, Karl, clearly getting confused as you ducked your head, face entirely red.

“Whats the matter (y/n)? You got a crush?” Nick teased.

Half covering your mouth you muttered, “Just some unspoken thing.”

“If I were to tell you that I kinda sorta didn’t listen to you, and forgot to buy more cereal, what would you say?” Karl asked, shrugging off his backpack as he came into the apartment.

When he got no real response, he started to look around, finding you a minute later, laying on his bed, “Did’ja hear me?”

“ehhhh... I don’t really care.”

His brow furrowed upon hearing your monotonous, “You okay? What’s up?”

You were still staring up at the ceiling “Grey, ‘s all grey.”

Sighing he came and sat down on the bed next to you, taking one of your hands in his, “Grey?”

“Sad brain makes everything grey.”

Karl fiddled with your fingers a moment, before raising them to his lips and softly pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll go make you tea.”

He headed out of the room, leaving you to sit up and stare at the ceiling wondering what you’d done to deserve someone like him.

A few minuets later he came back with a mug, handing it to you before he sat down behind you, wrapping his arms around you, “Is there a reason for sad brain today?”

“Everything's just- blah. I’m just tired.”

He didn’t need to ask to understand you didn’t mean physically, so instead he just pulled you gently to lean against his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to the edge of your jaw, “Okay?”

You knew Karl had a hard time with words sometimes, and you had long since learned how to listen for the meanings between simple phrases, and especially the weight of certain words, “Okay.”

‘So what is with you and Karl?’ Niki asked.

You sighed, “I do not even know where to begin to answer that question.”

You were sitting in a discord call with her, originally trying to plan a joint stream but the conversation had switched.

‘I mean, if you don’t mind me saying so, it seems like your dating.’

“Well...” You considered it for a moment, you knew that your feelings for Karl were more than platonic, and had been for a long time, to you, it almost seemed like a fact of the world, the sky is blue, the earth is round, you loved Karl.

“We've never talked about it, but- I suppose we- uhhh, you know what we’ll just say a little bit.” You quickly changed what you were going to say to be more ambiguous as Karl entered the room yelling, “Hi Niki!”

‘I know you can’t hear me but hi Karl!’ She yelled back.

You laughed, turning in your chair, “Niki says hi!”

Karl grinned, leaning on the back of your chair, “Oh, yeah, dinners ready.” and Niki raised her eyebrows, smirking at you.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You laughed, feeling Karl’s chin coming to rest on the top of your head.

‘I’m not looking at anything.’ she insisted, ‘you would be a cute couple.’

Your face started to turn red, “Shut up!”

‘It was a compliment!’ Niki laughed.

“I know!”

Karl’s face grew confused, “What?”

“It’s nothing. Niki I’ve gotta go, we’ll see about the stream tomorrow, okay?”

‘yeah, bye!’

“Bye!”

You disconnected from the call, “Dinner?”

“Yeah! I managed not to burn the chicken!”

You couldn’t help but grin, “Awesome!”

“I swear- either there both oblivious or there just really good at keeping it just hidden enough!” Dream exclaimed.

“I mean if we don’t find out for another two weeks, I get a hundred dollars, so by all means let it drag out.” Quackity laughed.

Sapnap groaned, “Actually its more like three hundred now, Hbomb, Skeppy and Wilbur all put in more money.”

“Well I asked the other day,” Niki began, “and they only said, ‘a little bit’, What does that even mean?”

“Maybe they are dating and that's (y/n)s way of dismissing it.” Tubbo said.

You were listening to the discord call, trying not to laugh, as Tommy suggested, “Well it’s possible they are dating but like, haven’t realized it?”

Everyone began to laugh, “Wait- wait hear me out! Hear me out! Like- you know when on like romcoms and shit where two bestfriends end up like there dating even when they technically aren’t and then they accidently kiss!”

George scoffed, “That's not a thing.”

“Well still!” Tommy tried to argue.

“Not even in movies though.” Niki said.

“Your right,” You laughed, unmuting, “We haven’t kissed yet, so it must not be a thing.”

The vc went deadly silent as Tommy began to laugh hysterically, “Were you here the whole time?”

“Maybe.” You laughed.

“Wait- so are you and Karl together or not?” Dream questioned.

“Uhhh, let you know when I find out? Do I get the money if I figure it out?”

“Oh my god (y/n).” Tubbo was trying not to laugh himself as Tommy continued to lose his shit.

“Yeah,” You looked over to where Karl was half asleep, leaning against you, “I’ve said it before, and I guess I’ll say it again, it’s just some unspoken thing.”

Music filled the apartment when you entered, some old song by Sinatra, and Karl was dancing around the living room as you pulled off your coat and mask.

“Are you listening to Sinatra?” You questioned, setting the rest of your things down.

“Come dance with me!” He giggled.

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you grabbed his hand, letting the other come to rest on his shoulder, “God, it’s been so long since I’ve dance.”

“Come on, you remember don’t you?”

You chuckled, “Back, side, forward, back. Technically this isn’t a waltzing song though.”

“You can waltz to anything if you try hard enough,” Karl insisted, “Ready, and- one two three, one two three...”

You fell into step, quietly humming along to the song as you moved in a slow arc around the room.

“..And- spin out...” Karl murmured, gently spinning you out to the side, and you paused for a a moment before he tugged on you arm, causing you to spin back in, finding yourself, face to face with him.

You laughed nervously, suddenly blushing at the feeling of his arms around you.

“What are we?” Karl asked softly, “Like, what is- this?”

“Some unspoken thing.” Your voice was just as low, suddenly the weight of the hand resting on your lower back seeming to double.

He looked at your lips, then back at your eyes, and you nodded softly, leaning in and pressing your lips together.

Your arms drifted around his waist as he pulled you closer, before you separated, smiling.

“Does that mean it’s spoken now?” Karl asked.

You grinned, “Course.”

Later, after spending the rest of the night like any other you were cuddled up together on the couch, watching the newest episode of survivor, and you pretended not to notice as he gushed to someone through text.

Your phone began to buzz with venmo notifications, and Karl looked at you confused, “(y/n), why is everyone paying you?”

You chuckled, “Reaping the benefits of our friends conspiring in a discord call that was left open.”

After the kiss you had sent one text to a group chat; ‘I figured it out: pay up bitches.’

#karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagines #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #teddy06 writes

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters: Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall.

Warnings (for this chapter, all small mentions but warning just in case): Breastfeeding, Accidental Cutting Injury/Blood loss, blood transfusions. This chapter contains no sex scenes or scenes of a sexual nature.

A continuation of previous Werewolf!Sy stories Moonlight on the Sand and Castle Under The Stars. This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

The late spring day brought pleasant scents and mouth watering flavours, Blackwater Lake’s town May day parade in full flow as you held two month old Luna in her carrier to your chest, turning to smile at your husband Sy as he balanced Mikey on his shoulders so your son could watch the floats whilst they slowly cruised past. You knew he would be most excited about the Fire Department bringing their trucks past. At the first whoop of the siren Mikey squealed with joy, the ice cream cone in his hand tipping slightly and setting a blob of blue bubblegum flavour gelato into Sy’s cheek;

“Hey, no wriggles! Its raining ice cream down here”

Pausing the consumption of your own cone you handed it to Sy as you reached into your bag and found a baby wipe, moving to wipe his cheek before stretching to wipe your son’s face. Finding a trash can to toss the wipe into, you smiled as you watched your two boys as they waved to the Fire Trucks, the crew making sure to honk their horns when they saw Sy.

Everyone in town loved Sy. You’d moved there together when you’d found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your army days behind you and wanting to seek somewhere quiet where you could live in the woods to allow for full moon runs whilst being close enough to civilisation to raise a family. The aging receptionist at the realtor had pulled you aside the second you’d arrived in their office when you’d visited the town, recognising one of her own as her nostrils had flared and she’d explained that there were ‘all sorts’ in the town. That was your first meeting with Edith, and you’d gone on to move in just up the mountain from her. Once Sy had finished in the Army and baby number two was on the way, he’d started working alongside retired detective Walter at his construction company where they specialised in commercial buildings. They were always on call for when businesses had emergencies, so had come to the aid of half the town after storms and accidents.

As the parade dragged on Luna woke, grumbling for a change and a feed. The two boys were transfixed with the parade and you’d lost your ice cream cone to Sy who was now mindlessly munching away on it. Tugging on his sleeve you caught his attention;

“Luna’s woken up, i’m gonna take her into Sue’s Coffee Shop to change her and give her a feed”

“Sure thing Darlin, we’ll come find you in a bit”

The coffee shop was quiet, its doors opened onto the sidewalk and as the radio played soft rock music, just one or two tables taken outside but the inside empty. Sue - the owner - smiled at you as you walked in;

“Hey Sue!”

“Hey there! What can I get'cha?”

“Can i get a decaf iced latte? I just need to change Luna if that’s ok?”

“Of course, no need to ask, the restroom is empty”

A couple of minutes later your little girl had a clean butt but was still grizzling, now hungry for your milk. Sue had set your drink onto a table in the corner, a soft window seat she knew you liked to sit at to feed. Settling in you pulled your cami top down and unhooked the strap of your nursing bra, helping Luna to latch on as she cried before a blissful quiet descended over you as she happily suckled on your breast. In the quiet of the coffee shop you reached for your drink and sipped on it, smiling down at your beautiful daughter as she gazed up at you;

“Hey there my little Luna, better now? Is that the good stuff? Yeah? Well that’s what your Daddy says it is…” you said with a whisper and a smirk.

“Hey”

The sudden greeting made you jump, looking up to see Walter standing near your table;

“Oh, Hi Walter”

“Sorry…” he glanced away, averting his eyes from where you were feeding; “I just asked if you wanted anything?”

“Oh no, i’m fine, i’ve got a coffee… but you’re welcome to join me if you like? Sy and Mikey will be along once the Parade’s over”

Nodding once the quiet man went to order before returning with what looked like a quad espresso but faltering when it came to taking a seat;

“Where did you want me to sit?”

“Oh anywhere you like” you shifted Luna as she had finished on one breast, hooking that side up before shifting and moving her to the other breast. You’d mastered the art of switching breasts without revealing anything, the baby's head blocking any view of a nipple, and you were a vehement supporter of breast feeding - in fact any feeding - and had been known to get into loud shouting matches with anyone that told you to cover up something that was completely natural.

“I mean, i don’t want Sy to think i’m here oggling his wife’s tits”

Laughing, you kicked out a soft chair with your foot;

“This is fairly low, take this one and here…” you moved the upright menu on the table in front of Luna’s head, knowing that she would now be shielded from view and with your breast, and saving Walter’s embarrassment.

Just as Walter sat down Sue brough over his sandwich, the scent of it hitting your nostrils and making your stomach audibly growl;

“Oh wow, what is that?”

“A steak wrap with chimichurri sauce” he lifted one half and offered it to you, but you shook your head.

“Thanks, but that’s just a little too rare for me… looks like a good veterinarian could bring it back to life”

Walter laughed as you called out to Sue, ordering one of the same.

“You want yours still mooing too?”

“Medium, please” you laughed as she nodded and walked away.

As she cooked your meal you turned back to Walter. You’d had a few conversations with him over the 11 months he and Sy had worked together, but knew very little about him apart from his reputation of being quiet and surly, generally sleep deprived and a little pale most of the time. He’d been medically retired from the Police Department after an accident where he’d lost a lot of blood and had never fully recovered.

As Luna happily fed and Walter devoured his sandwich you sipped on your drink, watching with curiosity as the man ate in silence, savouring each bloody bite. When he finally crumpled the napkin onto the plate and sat back he caught you watching him;

“What? Do i have something on my face?”

“No” you laughed softly; “Just watching how quickly you devoured that sandwich. Rachel not feeding you at home?”

Walter’s face dropped;

“She left”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Walter, i wouldn’t have said anything if i’d known”

“S’ok. She got fed up with the way i lived my life, but i can’t change who i am”

“True”

Just then Sy and Mikey came running into the coffee shop;

“Hi Darlin! Hi Sue! Hi Walt… be right back, Jnr has a bathroom emergency!”

The two Syverson boys disappeared into the restroom, and you could clearly hear Sy’s voice;

“Point! POINT IT AT THE TOILET! That’s it, stand on your tippy toes… there we go! Got here in time!”

You suppressed a laugh, Walter raising his eyebrows;

“Potty training?”

“Uh-huh… it's been a challenging few weeks to say the least, but Mikey wanted to give it a go”

The sound of the dryer could be heard as Sy and Mikey reappeared, Sy giving you double thumbs up from behind his son who ran to you;

“A perfect aim Darlin, no leaks. Think this deserves a cookie!”

As Mikey squealed with joy you groaned;

“Sy… not more sugar! He’ll be up all night. Mikey, honey, how about some fries?”

“And Eggies?” Mikey asked

“Sure thing honey, get Daddy to ask Sue”

As the afternoon wore on and the boys chatted, you listened as Sy and Walter discussed work stuff, Luna sleeping peacefully in your arms as you ate with Mikey. Finally glancing at your watch you motioned to Sy the time;

“Hun, i’ve gotta go collect our meat order from Walkers Meats”

“Oh yeah, sure. Here…” He opened his wallet and peeled off a bunch of $20’s as he turned to Walter; “She makes the best Steak Tartare… it's unbelievable”

“You make that?” Walter asked

Angling Luna into her carrier sling you adjusted the straps and nodded;

“Sure do! Hey, did you want to join us for dinner?”

“Yeah, join us!” Sy parroted; “And before you say anything, you wouldn’t be intruding”

With a weak smile Walter nodded;

“Sure, that’ll be nice. I gotta go to the lumber yard before though… pick out the stuff for next week's job”

You noticed that Mikey had finished his meal and was looking sleepy, holding your hand out to him he slid off the chair and stood next to you;

“How about I take the kids home, Sy you catch a ride with Walter?”

With everyone happy with the arrangements you made your way along main street to where Sy had parked his enormous truck, helping Mikey into his seat before unlatching Luna and settling her into her carrier. They were both fast asleep by the time you got to the drivers seat.

You managed to park directly outside the door to Walkers Meats, and Freya the weekend girl helpfully brought everything out to you when you called inside that the kids were asleep in the car and you didn’t want to leave them.

Dinner had been fun. The two kids were peacefully sleeping as the three adults chatted after the meal, before you finally stood to load the dishwasher and start hand washing the items that couldn’t go in there. Just as you were about to start you heard a cry from the kids, Sy standing;

“It’s Mikey, i’ll go”

As you started to handwash the various knives and delicate glasses, Walter stood at your side to dry items, the two of you talking casually before you let out a cry and pulled your hand from the soapy bowl of water. The dark crimson of your blood flowed from your finger, the knife you’d forgotten you’d put in the sink the cause;

“Fuck… hand me a towel…” you asked Walter, but were surprised when he sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned, hunching over. Clutching your hand to your chest, you were surprised by his reaction, before he suddenly turned and you let out a shriek.

Sy appeared at the doorway in a panic before rushing to you, wrapping a napkin around your hand before he finally turned to look at Walter;

“What the fuck…”

Walter was pale, paler than usual, but that wasn’t what shocked the pair of you. No, it was the fact his eyes were pure white except for dark pools for his pupils, and as he opened his mouth to speak you saw his fangs;

“It’s… it’s the blood…” he gasped out; “It drives me…”

Sy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but looked at his friend as he slumped onto the floor, shaking and sobbing;

“Think we need a chat Walt”

The three of you sat around the kitchen table, a hefty glass of scotch in front of each of you as Walter spoke;

“So umm yeah… this is why i left the Department. Went into a supposedly abandoned building, but it wasn’t empty. Two what we thought were junkies in there, looked like they were frail and would snap in a keen wind, but they had this strength and speed… They overpowered me, latched onto my neck. Drained my blood, and when the last drop was about to pass their lips one of my officers finally found me and shot them. They bled into me. The EMT’s took me to New Mercy and gave me a massive blood transfusion, and treated me for severe anemia… well guess what, the fangs and fucked up eyes were a surprise a few weeks after i was discharged”

You sat wide eyed and mouth agape, not touching your drink;

“I have so many questions...”

“Okay”

“Garlic. Crosses. Being invited in. Sunlight…”

Walter chuckled;

“Most a load of complete bollocks. Garlic? Well you put some in your steak tartare didn’t you? In fact it helps with the anemia. Crosses? No issue. Being invited in, again that’s just rubbish. Sunlight however… why do you think i’m so pale, huh? Have to wear factor 50 all the damn time otherwise i end up looking like a Maine Lobster at a cookout”

Both you and Sy were transfixed, Walter chatting away but his eyes hadn’t returned to normal and his fangs occasionally caught on his lip as he spoke.

“What ‘bout blood then?” Sy asked

Walter cleared his throat;

“Well, i’ve been making do with cows blood since Rachel left”

“You used to suck her blood?” you asked in a high pitched voice

Again Walter cleared his throat, this time just the faintest hint of a blush crept over his cheeks above his beard;

“Err yeah, about once a month… but she had enough in the end and left”

“I got another question” Sy interjected; “Why are your fangs still out?”

Although he answered Sy, Walter looked directly at you;

“Because she’s bleeding”

You looked down at your hand, puzzled as the wound had now sealed, before it hit you;

“Oh… I should go and sort that out”

Sy caught up quickly, glancing at the back of your dress;

“You’re fine Darlin, Walt caught it in time”

When you returned to the kitchen the two men had knocked back their drinks, Sy pouring another hefty glass for the pair of them. Pouring your drink into Sy’s you smiled at him;

“Luna won’t appreciate it”

Making yourself a herb tea you sat down next to Sy, leaning on his shoulder as you sipped your tea. Walter cleared this throat;

“You two have taken this a lot better than i envisioned anyone would… better than Rachel did…”

You looked up at Sy and smiled, his own grin crossing over his face before he nodded and you both turned to Walter as Sy spoke;

“Oh… we have a bit of understanding of this kinda thing”

With the full moon starting tomorrow night you knew that you could both force your eyes to turn orange, the bright ring of fire in your irises flaming like a pyre, shocking Walter so much he slipped back on his chair and fell to the floor. Greeted by both of you giggling, he pulled himself back up using the table as he righted his chair, knocking back the rest of his glass;

“What… the… FUCK?”

#blackwater lake #henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #werewolf!sy #Vampire!Walter

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

Text

Glad You Came (Julie x Reader)

Request: Julie x reader where reader is kind of the fuckgirl of the team. Reader knows that julie have feelings for her and like her attention. Julie thinks that reader plays with her feelings. But reader actually like julie and try to get her trust back. End with fluff please.

Author’s Note: Idk if this actually fits the prompt, but I just couldn’t get the image out of my head. I hope you all enjoy.

Jj had always been a sucker for a good Rom-Com. The ones where the good girl fell for the bad boy (with a good heart) and that bad boy stepped up to the plate and got his shit together for her.

But alas, though you were the team’s resident bad girl, this wasn’t a rom-com and it appeared you had zero intention of making a dent in your precious reputation. At least that’s what she thought.

You always did have a knack for proving people wrong.

*****

The bouquet of roses was the first thing everyone noticed when they stepped into the locker room. It was an amazing surprise after such a rough practice. A not entirely unexpected, but still incredible surprise.

JJ blushed as she approached her overflowing locker. This secret admirer stuff was getting a bit out of hand.

“Why does Julie get roses, but none of the rest of us do?” Emily whined, settling down in front of her own bare cubby.

Lindsey rolled her eyes. If JJ was going to keep getting gifts from a random person, she and the rest of the girls with significant others on the team were really going to have to step up their game.

“You don’t like dead flowers Sonnett,” She called to the blond 3 lockers over.

“Yeah, but it’s not fair if she gets them and the rest of us don’t,” Emily sighed dramatically, and the rest of the room giggled.

“It's from her admirer,” Kelley chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

JJ’s blush deepened. She carefully reached out and grabbed the thornless Rose with a little tag on it, bringing the delicate petals to her nose before examining the little handwritten note.

“Ooo, what’s the note say this time?” Kelley asked, as half the team crowded around the midfielder.

Julie took a big deep breath before reading the black cursive words out loud.

“I wanted to get you something as beautiful as you are, but couldn’t find anything that came close,”

“Awww,” the team cooed, some rubbing Julie’s back and others ruffling her hair as they made their way back to their respective areas.

She ran her fingers over the little words, trying to imagine the face of the person who could have written them. The person who would go to such lengths to show their interest in her. But the gifts were always sweet and never creepy.

The gifts ranged from coffee orders sent to her hotel room, to a signed Mia Hamm jersey that had shown up in her locker, but the thing that always remained was the smooth black cursive notes that accompanied them.

She brushed the soft petals against her nose again. How she longed to know who thought so highly of her.

“Who could get roses in here?” Sam snorted, pulling her boots off.

“It’s gotta be a teammate. They show up literally everywhere we go,” Rose said thoughtfully, glancing around at all the women in the room, her eyes lingering on where you were grinning down at your phone.

There was just something about your smile and the way you kept glancing up at a certain blond midfielder.

“At least we know it’s not Y/n,” Emily cackled.

You looked up at the group from your place across the room, where they all thought you were trying to ignore the commotion (probably in favor of texting a random girl for a hookup).

You had the reputation of being the fuckgirl of the team. And you took pride in that. You liked when women gave you attention, and as long as everything was consensual, you didn’t see the harm in messing around. That didn’t mean you treated women like objects. Quite the opposite. You loved to woo them, to make them feel beautiful, and then move on to the next conquest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“With a body count as high as yours, I doubt you’re capable of being this romantic,” Julie spat back, glaring at you. Your history with her was far from perfect, and she had found out about your reputation first hand.

You smirked. If you couldn’t positively have her attention (the way you wanted but were too afraid to admit), then you would take the hostility any day. Angry Julie was still sexy after all.

“How do you think I get them into my bed? Maybe I’m a secret mush at heart,” You asked, standing and approaching the woman. Your hands gently brushed over her shoulder and you began to lean in close to her.

She brought her finger up to push against your nose, stopping you in your tracks. You tried and failed to cover your smile at the touch.

“Yeah right,” She scoffed, shoving you back.

Your smile widened, as you stepped back, your arms wide. “You never know till you try it, Jules,”

“Been there, done that. No thanks,” She shook her head and turned away from you. “At least I have enough class not to fuck anything with a pulse”

Rose tilted her head to the side at the brief look of sadness that crossed your features. Her eyebrows furrowed at the look, and how quickly it was gone.

****

You picked at the tape around your wrist- a habit that started in middle school after an unfortunate event that required stitches and had become one of your many signatures within the team. The pressure around the area was calming now, and always put you in the right mode of a game.

It also gave you something to absentmindedly play with as you waited for the next set of drills on the bench (totally not checking out a certain blond when she wasn’t looking).

“When are you going to tell her that you’re her admirer?” Rose said, settling down on the bench beside you.

You shrugged. “First, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” You glanced up at the bling again, before blinking back to Rose’s raised eyebrow.

You took a deep breath, finally managing to get a finger under the tape.

“And second never. I’m defective remember? Completely incapable of love,”

You repeated the words JJ had said to you that fateful night. The night you had ruined the best almost relationship you ever had. It wasn’t you exactly, just the fact that a woman was texting you while you were in bed with Julie. You weren’t going to respond, but the blond midfielder had caught sight of the screen before you could clear the notification.

That was enough proof for her. She kicked you out and didn’t let you explain- there was nothing to say apparently.

“That’s why you always send her flowers and notes, and other gooey stuff right?” Rose rolled her eyes.

She had known you since the two of you were in diapers. She knew all about your hang-ups on relationships, but she also knew the secret romantic side. The sweet side that you didn’t show to everyone. Everyone except a blond midfielder (who was still very smitten with you, even if you didn’t want to believe it).

“I-,” You paused, biting your lip, your eyes getting that faraway look Rose knew all too well. You shook your head. You had your shot and it had blown up in your face. “She doesn’t want me. It’s just easier this way,”

“What, to hopelessly pine after someone? Or to completely avoid rejection all together?” Rose snorted.

You shook your head again, finally looking rose in the eyes. “I hurt her Rose. She doesn’t want someone she can’t trust,”

Rose softened at the admission and the unspoken “I’m not good enough” that went with it. You had always struggled with that, maybe that’s why you were such a lady killer. You so badly wanted to be enough, that you jumped at every opportunity. But it was different after you met JJ.

“How many people have you slept with within the last 3 months?” Rose asked suddenly.

And you blinked at her a few times, completely unsure of where your best friend was going with this.

“What?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “If you can’t think of an exact number, ballpark it for me,”

You vehemently shook your head. You hadn’t met a hookup since that night, too hung up on JJ, and afraid that continuing would destroy any remaining chance you had with the woman.

“I haven’t,”

Rose snapped, patting your shoulder. “Exactly. You’re proving to her, the entire team really, that you can change. She’ll come around, especially if you’re honest with her and I don’t know, try to keep it in your pants for once,”

The team had taken notice of your change, how you hadn’t engaged in hookups. Only a few of them knew the real reason behind your apparent abstinence.

“You think?” You asked softly, and Rose sent you an indulgent smile.

“Yeah, you just gotta grow a pair and tell her you’ve been her secret admirer for the last 6 months,” She finished with a cackle and you blushed.

That was easier said than done.

*****

Julie had never been this impressed in her entire life. Sure she had been to some amazing restaurants before, but nothing like the little place her admirer had chosen. She felt every bit of hesitance leave her as she stepped into the building. It was quaint and romantic with an amazing buzz in the air.

She had found the handwritten note with the time and place on the floor outside her hotel room door, along with one of the cutest black dresses she had ever seen. It fit her perfectly, and she looked good if she did say so herself.

She approached the hostess stand, and the man behind the counter smiled at her. “Good evening miss, how may we assist you?”

She smiled back at him. “Um, I have a reservation. It’s under Mystique,” she said, suppressing a grin at the name her admirer had chosen.

The man’s smile widened as he reached into his suit jacket pocket, and retrieved a neatly folded letter. “Ah, yes. I have this for you,”

JJ to the heavy paper in her hands, running her fingers over her name written in familiar black cursive reverently. Her admirer rarely ever wrote her name out.

She very carefully unfolded the note, revealing more of her favorite handwriting.

Julie,

First and foremost, I’m so glad you could make it. I know I’ve written this beforehand, but I must say I’m sure you look amazing. You always look amazing. It doesn’t matter if it’s during practice, or during one of our very chill team bonding nights. You never fail to take my breath away, but that’s not why it’s taken me so long to finally grow a pair and come clean.

I know that you and I have history and that I’m not your ideal significant other, but I promise you’re not just another person to add to my long list. You make me feel things I’ve never really felt before, and that scares me. I don’t know how to do this, and I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I can promise that I’ll try my best. I will do everything I can to show you how much I love you, and to be someone worthy of your love in return.

Now comes the hard part. If you want to give me the chance to show you that I’ve grown up and am ready for a serious relationship, just tell the matroids you would like to take a drink at the bar. or If you don’t want to see me, but want to eat, just tell him you’re ready for your table. Your meal will be paid for, and I’ll leave you alone. We can even pretend it never happened if you would prefer. Or if you want neither of those things, you can walk away.

The choice is yours J. Ill respect whatever you choose, and no hard feelings either way.

Truly yours,

Y/n

Julie stared down at the letter, completely stunned, almost unable to believe that you could ever do anything this remotely romantic. A small part of her cheered as if she was waiting for you to finally step up.

She didn’t hate you, contrary to popular belief. She just thought you were incredibly confusing. You would flaunt your reputation, but then you would be sweet and shy with her. In the end, your first try at a relationship didn’t work because she was tired of you jerking her around. But this was a side to you she had never seen. One that intrigued her to no end.

“Have you made your decision ma’am?” The maitre d’ asked kindly, sliding up beside her. She blinked up from the neat handwriting towards the man (who looked like he wanted to say more).

She nodded at the man. “I have. I’d like to have a drink at the bar please,”

his smile was blinding as he gestured to the left with his arm. “Right this way,”

*****

You carefully swirled your finger around the rim of your drink, staring listlessly into the amber liquid. You weren’t quite sure how long you had been sitting here, but with every passing second, you couldn’t help but think about how much of a terrible idea this was.

She was never going to choose to come sit with you at the bar, and the longer you waited, the more pathetic you would look in the end.

You almost felt bad for the staff. They were so excited to help, so enthusiastic about helping you get the girl of your dreams. You were sure you were going to disappoint them.

“Fancy meeting you here stranger,” Her voice cut through your internal monologue. You lifted your head to meet her blue eyes, and the sight alone took your breath away.

“JJ, you came,” You said breathlessly, standing to greet the woman.

“I did,” She nodded, blushing when you took her hand and kissed the back of it before pulling out a chair for her. You sat down next to her, flagging down the bartender for the woman.

“You look stunning,” You said softly, finally turning in her direction, and she caught the light shade of pink that tinted your cheeks.

“So you’ve said,” Julie laughed, holding up the letter. The red in your cheeks spread up to your ears and down your neck as you ducked your head in embarrassment.

“Megan may have helped me pick it out…” You mumbled, your fingers returning to your glass.

Rose may or may not have gotten the entire team involved when she finally convinced you to make your move. While you were relieved to have help picking out the perfect outfit, you hadn’t enjoyed being made fun of for your “questionable” fashion sense.

“Was she behind the other gifts too?” Julie asked, taking a sip of her drink with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head, rubbing the back of your neck. “No. Those were all me,”

Julie smiled softly, reaching up to intertwine your fingers. She wasn’t used to seeing you so shy. It was kinda adorable.

“Well, I loved them,”

You nodded again, taking a big gulp of your drink, trying to calm your racing heart. “I’m really glad you came. I was afraid you would find out it was me and change your mind,”

“I’m glad I came too,”

You smiled brilliantly at the woman. You hadn’t completely redeemed yourself yet, not like Zuko or Snape, but at least you were going to have the chance to try. You weren’t going to let her slip through your fingers again.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #julie ertz imagine #julie ertz x reader

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narumi-gens · 3 years

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A Last First Kiss

Miya Atsumu x Reader Headcanons

notes: I felt really bad about leaving you guys with so much Atsumu angst in those fake wedding date hcs that I decided to write some proper, fluffy New Girl inspired hcs. warnings: mentions of past infidelity but otherwise happiness guaranteed

💋 It all started when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years cheating on you. With literally nowhere else to go (considering you had moved in with him and it was his name on the lease), you had shown up on Atsumu’s doorstep in a daze, asking if you could stay in his spare room for a few days while you tried to come to terms with your new reality, which is that you were now single and homeless.

💋 You and Atsumu had always been friendly, even if you had never exactly been friends. He was always the guy that you could have a laugh with in a group setting, but you never knew him well enough to actually hang out just the two of you. In fact, the only reason you even ended up at his place was because you had dropped your purse (which contained your phone, wallet, cash, and credit cards) on the living room floor in pure shock when you saw some woman who wasn’t you with her mouth around your boyfriend’s dick, and Atsumu was the only person you knew who lived within walking distance.

💋 A few days ends up turning into six months. This means that Atsumu is there when you cry so much that it feels like the tears will never end. He’s there when you monopolize the living room TV, sitting through the romcom marathons without complaint. He’s there when you fill the freezer with so much ice cream that you have to move everything else in it into the fridge. It also means that he’s there when you decide that it’s time to stop moping and get back into the dating pool -- and it doesn’t go well.

💋 It’s the first date you’ve gone on since the break-up. You spend all day freaking out because this is the first first date you’ve had in over four years. Atsumu looks at you like you’re crazy when you demand he tell you what young people do on first dates these days.

💋 You’re so worried and incapable of doing anything that Atsumu’s the one who has to pick out your outfit, assuring you, “Look, this guy’s the lucky one, not you. He’s the one who needs to impress ya, not the other way ’round, got it? Now go get lucky!” before he sends you off on your date with a cheesy but encouraging thumbs up.

💋 But it all ends up being for naught because four hours later, you trudge through the front door, face buried in your hands, embarrassment so great that you’re trying to will yourself to just disappear into nothingness. Atsumu watches in confusion as you shuffle into the living room, grab the blanket off the back of the couch, wrap it around yourself until you’ve bundled yourself up in a blanket burrito, and collapse next to him pathetically.

💋 “How was yer date?” he asks and you just let out a whine that’s so high-pitched, Atsumu worries it might actually damage his hearing. He tries to console you, assuring you that it was just a first date and there are plenty of other fish in the sea and that the hardest part is over now because at least you’re now back out there. He continues to feed you well-meaning platitude after well-meaning platitude until finally you can’t take it anymore.

💋 You peek your eyes out at him from the end of your blanket burrito just enough to give him a glare that shuts him up. “So, what happened? Was he a jerk? Was he boring? Was he ugly?” You sigh heavily and fully pop your head out of your cocoon, your hair now sticking up at odd angles.

💋 “No, he was great and we had so much fun together,” you tell him, but the tone of your voice says otherwise. Atsumu tosses you a confused, “Then what’s the problem?” that makes your face scrunch up in embarrassment as you let out another whine as you replay how the date ended in your mind.

💋 “He was such a gentleman and he was so nice. We were downstairs in front of the building and I could tell he wanted to kiss me and he started to slowly lean in and I freaked out and screamed then I gave him a punch to the shoulder, bowed, shook his hand, and called him ‘buddy’ before I literally ran inside,” you blurt out, all in one breath. You open an eye to look at Atsumu, who’s staring back at you with pure horror written on his face.

💋 “Why? Why would ya do that?” he finally manages to ask once he’s over his shock and you groan, wiggling in your burrito until you can pull your arms free so that you can hide your face in your hands for the umpteenth time. “If ya don’t want to kiss him, then don’t kiss him!”

💋 “But I thought I did wanna kiss him! I thought I was ready!” you groan. “But when he was leaning in, I just...” you trail off and when Atsumu prompts you to continue, you just sigh wearily before dropping your head back to look up at the ceiling tiredly. “You wouldn’t get it.”

💋 “Try me,” he offers and although you refuse to look at him out of embarrassment, you can hear his sincerity. You let out another, quieter sigh. “I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with Shinji. I wanted to it all with him -- get married, have babies, grow old together.” You glance over at Atsumu and see how his expression has softened. “And when I saw Taichi coming closer, all I could think about was how I couldn’t see myself doing any of those things with him.”

💋 He’s quiet as he takes in what you’ve just said, thinking over your words before he gives you a kind smile that puts you at ease. “Don’t ya think yer worrying too much over this? It’s just a first date. If ya wanna kiss him, then just kiss him. Maybe you’ll feel that magic when ya do. Live in the moment a little.”

💋 "Look, promise you won’t think I’m being stupid?” you ask softly and you wait for him to nod before continuing. “I want the next first kiss I have with someone to be the last first kiss I ever have. Even if it’s not actually the case and even if things don’t end up working out. In the moment when it’s happening, I want it to feel like it could be my last first kiss. And I just...didn’t feel that with Taichi. It just felt like any other first kiss.”

💋 You wait for him to laugh or tell you that you’re overthinking things. You wait for him to say that all the romcoms you’ve been watching have distorted your sense of reality. You wait for him to tell you that you just need to get laid. But in the six months that you’ve been living with Atsumu, you’ve learned that he never does what's expected.

💋 “I don’t think that’s stupid,” he says simply after a few moments and now it’s your turn to be shocked. The look he’s giving you is just so kind that it makes your heart flutter happily in your chest, the disastrous end to your date slipping further and further into the recesses of your mind.

💋 “Y’know, we’ve known each other awhile now, but it’s only since ya moved in that I’ve realized how soft ya are.” Soft. He says it thoughtfully. He’s not teasing you or pointing out some sort of perceived flaw. The word sounds almost...fond. “Yer heart’s soft.”

💋 The statement hangs over the living room, but it doesn’t feel heavy or oppressive. It feels warm and comforting. It feels like someone finally understands you. He then drops his hand on top of your head and smooths down your messy hair affectionately. “Don’t feel stupid for wanting to be soft, okay?”

💋 The sudden lump in your throat keeps you from being able to say anything in response, so you beam back at him and nod your head, furiously blinking away the tears that you can feel threatening creeping up on you. He smiles back in return and brushes your hair behind your ear before he stands up. “I gotta get up early tomorrow for practice,” he says. “Ya gonna be alright?”

💋 “Yeah, I will,” you assure him, meaning it wholeheartedly. But then you smile at him sheepishly and hold out your hands. “Can you help me out of this blanket though? I think I’m stuck.” He rolls his eyes dramatically, but makes no other complaint as he takes your hands in his and helps you stand.

💋 He then lets go of one of your hands to grab onto the end of the blanket, using the hand holding yours to slowly twirl you around twice until the blanket comes fully loose and he can drop it onto the couch. Slightly dizzy, you clutch his forearm with your free hand and take a moment to reorient yourself with a soft giggle.

💋 When you look up at him, you see the same softness in his eyes that he seems to see in you and it catches you by surprise. Your heart starts to beat a little more quickly in your chest, but you don’t know why. All of a sudden, you realize how little space there is between the two of you -- only a couple of inches at most.

💋 And then his lips are on yours -- needy, hungry, desperate, soft. The kiss feels like a flash fire. Where only moments ago, you were feeling warm and content and fuzzy, you’re now at the mercy of a white-hot heat that starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads out so rapidly that it’s consumed your entire being in a millisecond.

💋 His arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you close before one slides up your back and he buries his fingers in your hair, quickly running them through your stands. Then both hands are running down your sides before they’re both on your back once again, his touch warm through the fabric of the dress he picked out. It’s like he’s so eager to feel every inch of you that he can’t keep his hands in one spot -- he needs to feel all of you.

💋 It’s not even that deep of a kiss, his tongue only briefly darts out to run over your bottom lip before it returns back to his mouth. Instead it’s really just his lips moving against yours, hinting at what more might feel like but never going far enough to actually let you have it. And it just makes you more desperate as you return the kiss.

💋 But just like a flash fire, it’s over almost as quickly as it began. He gives you one, two, three more kisses before he’s pulling away, your foreheads resting against each other, his breath hot on your face where it mingles with yours as you both pant for air. Then, he leans in and gives you one final, chaste, soft kiss before he meets your glazed eyes.

💋 “A last first kiss, huh?” he murmurs, his voice rough and low and threatening to ignite the fire all over again. His hands slowly slip from you down to his sides and you miss the warmth of his touch already. You can only dumbly nod in return, your breathing still shaky as you try to catch it. The corners of his lips twitch upwards, something fun and mischievous and affectionate and...happy written plain across his face.

💋 “Goodnight,” he says gently and once again, all you can do is nod, still too dazed to do anything else. He seems to understand your plight because you can see how his eyes are shining with mirth. But his flushed face is a clear giveaway that he’s just as affected as you are.

💋 You’re still frozen in place as you watch him walk away until his broad shoulders disappear from sight and you hear the door to his bedroom close. Slowly, you raise a trembling hand up to your face and brush your fingers against your still-tingling lips, where you can still feel the ghost of Atsumu’s.

💋 Your mind is racing, but there’s only one thought that you’re able to fully grasp onto, desperate not to let it go as a small, soft smile appears on your face. You want more than anything for that to be the last first kiss you ever have.

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq hc

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leejeongz · 3 years

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nsfw a-z YEONJUN (txt)

request: hiiii!! could you do a yeonjun a-z nsfw???- anon

🔅okay so i may have passed away while writing this 😀😀 but it’s worth it tb to that one time i said he was the one idol id fuck given the opportunity hahahah no changes there🔅

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he’s for sure a talker. and a cuddler. and very big on comfort items and shows. he’s basically perfect for anyone who wants attention afterwards rather than being left alone. he likes to talk about how well you both performed, what you liked if you tried something new, or what you think you’d like to try in the future. you never really talk about any negatives because he wants to focus on being positive, but will avoid things in future if he could infer that you didn’t like it. when you’re ready, you can go and cuddle up to him, he’s expecting you to and feels all warm and cosy when you do, but it’s no big deal if you don’t want to. he also likes stroking your hair or poking your cheek 🥺 he’s such a cutie after any scene, no matter how rough it was.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

we all know this man loves everything about himself but that being said, he particularly likes his size. not a physical body part i know, but he’s so big in every department, how can that not be something he loves?? he gets to manhandle you all he wants and gets to tease you with it too.

on you, his favourite body part is your lips. he loves his own lips, sure, but yours are just so full and pretty, especially when they’re kissing every inch of his body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he expects you to take his cum, wherever that may be. he wants it either in your mouth, in your pussy, or in your ass (no pressure to try anal though, just something he might want to try). even if he finishes on your stomach, or on your ass, or on your face, he’ll always find a way to get it inside you.

this guy loves fucking you in the ass in doggy, pulling out, and watch his cum drip out and down over your pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wants to get pegged at least once in his life, but is afraid to bring it up, even around people he trusts, in case it “changes their perception of him”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he knows what he’s doing, he knows exactly what to do to make you feel good and is more than willing to teach you everything that he likes. he gets his experience might be a little intimidating, so he doesn’t brag about it, but it soon becomes apparent that he knows how to turn someone on and how to put everything into action.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he enjoys every and all possible positions when he’s with you, but his favourite is having you pressed up against a wall, sometimes with one of your legs lifted, sometimes with both wrapped around him. he likes the intimacy of it, he can get real close to you and can kiss you without compromising any comfort. of course, as well, it’s an easy position for him to be dominant in. you have no way of escaping his gaze and he can literally do anything that he wants with you like this.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

sometimes, he’s really fkn cute while you guys are fucking. he’ll be playful and making sure that you’re comfortable and happy.

other times, he’s dead serious, telling you to do everything he wants you to do and degrading you to remind you of your place. (because you’ve been teasing him all day)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

naturally, he doesn’t have much hair down there anyway so he just trims it. hair or no hair, he’s not that bothered really, but he just trims it so you can suck his dick easier.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he likes to be very intimate, sometimes a little too intimate that it becomes oppressive, but it’s all just part of his dominating character. he will more than likely want to make you feel comfortable if you’re in a relationship, so will make the experience very intimate and sweet, even if it’s coming off a little too strongly.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he doesn’t masturbate that often. why would you need to when you’re choi yeonjun, you can get anyone you want. the only time he will is when he’s away from his s/o for an unbearable amount of time, i’m talking months. he likes to sext, have phone sex or just use his imagination to get off to. there are definitely going to be videos and pictures taken that can be saved for later cos he’s proud of what he has and will send them to you upon your request.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise (receiving (+sometimes giving))- telling him how huge his cock is, or letting him know how good he fucks you really gets to his head. it makes him want to fuck you even better next time, just to receive more praise. he doesn’t really give you a chance to talk much during the scene itself, it’s mainly just him wanting a moan or a shy nod in response to his dirty talking, but he’ll want to know your thoughts afterwards so he can think about them next time. honestly, it’s more like he’s just praising himself and you have no other option than to just agree. he likes to tell you when you’re doing well too. when you’re taking his dick well and how pretty you look underneath him.

degrading (giving)- sometimes though, he just has to let you know that your his fuck toy, his cum slut if he’s feeling a little more generous. he often likes to remind you that gagging and crying while he face fucks you won’t make him stop, and that you should do what he says before you get in over your head.

breeding- out of all the places that he likes to cum, inside your pussy is his favourite. his pullout game is beyond great, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to pull out if you tell him it’s okay to cum inside you. he just likes to see it trickle out of you, especially if he’s just fucked you in public and he knows that you’ve gotta act all innocent even though his cum is dripping out.

exhibitionism- he would happily have sex on stage if that was allowed. he loves people watching, people getting jealous or turned on by what they see. he loves that your apartment has ceiling to floor windows because that’s a perfect place to make you suck his dick, or to fuck you in standing doggy. he’d never do it if you were clearly uncomfortable and would of course not aim to make any of the public uncomfortable, he’s not a weird lad dw lmao.

size kink- i feel like i’ve explained this under too many other letters and i don’t want it to become repetitive but he likes being the bigger one and he likes how big his dick is, so much so that he can and will show off about both of those things whenever he can.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

i did JUST mention this before but in front of those extra large windows in your apartment is his favourite place to show the world exactly what you two get up to. “show them how well you take my dick, babygirl” even just saying it makes him feel more turned on than ever before.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

it actually takes quite a bit of work from your end to turn yeonjun on. if he knows you’re already horny, he’s gonna make you work for his cock, he likes to tease you in that way to show just how much you want him, but your hunger alone is enough to get him going realistically. he is quite partial to a lap dance or a strip tease from you, the big smile on his face would tell you that, not to mention how much he’d be hyping your sexy self up.

he’s a sucker for you grinding on his lap too. even if you’re not making out, it still turns him on. he’s likes the fact that you feel him getting harder through his pants and that he can feel you getting wetter. also, as i said before, he has a thing for your lips. if you lightly graze them over his skin, especially his neck or torso, he’s gonna be all yours.

he sometimes gets turned on by watching you eat, the way your lips close around the food, which he knows you’re eating in a seductive way just to turn him on, he can’t take his eye off of them. but he’ll definitely do the same back to you, his lips have the same effect on you as yours do on him, so of course he’s going to tease you too (thinking about that one time he ate that grape-)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there’s not much he wouldn’t do, but he really really wouldn’t be into you degrading him when you take the lead.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he likes to give and receive head equally, there isn’t one he prefers over the other. you give him head when he wants it, he gives you head when you want it. he does love fucking your face when he’s in one of THOSE really dominant moods, making you gag with every thrust. he claims it’s all for a good reason though, the extra saliva makes his dick fit inside you easier.

he can be known to rush eating you out though, honestly. he uses his tongue in quick up and down motions, smaller ones on your clit then changing to larger ones that cover the whole length, sometimes using his lips to cover the whole of the surface area down there. we all know he’s a freak so he’d eat ur ass no worries too. you don’t mind that he doesn’t spend long down there though, because he still gets the job done, if he lets you, you get cum on his tongue.

there’s a big difference in that you can give him head wherever you want, but he finds it difficult to eat you out when you're not on a bed or sofa that he can kneel in front of. so if you’re out in public, it’s less likely that you’ll be receiving, but any head you give will never go without him playing with you in return, it’s just not his mouth that’s on your pussy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he’s not that fast, cos he wants to make you feel every inch of him. he takes it slow, but still definitely quite rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he loves a quickie every now and again. this is usually the result of incessant but very much welcome teasing from either of you (usually him). he takes you to the nearest clothes store and fucks you “quietly” in the changing rooms, the only traces of your act being your handprints on the mirror since he made you clean up every last bit of cum off of the floor with your tongue. he’s also a fan of club toilets, the music sets the pace for him while he’s drilling into you, one of the only times he fucks you hard and fast without teasing.

as i mentioned before though, he does love a little bit of head in public, and that’s more than enough to satisfy him if you don’t wanna have sex at that time but still wanna treat him to a little something.

the only time he’d ever refuse a quickie is in your own home. you have plans but you wanna have a quick fuck first? just cancel all the plans and let him treat you all night long bby.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he will take calculated risks. he won’t do things on a whim, he likes to talk them through with you first, maybe even draw up some kind of fantasy of how it would play out in real life before actually putting it in action. if some of your kinks come with some risk, he wouldn’t mind, but he’d hate to think that you were feeling unsafe so he’d constantly check in, not really caring about ruining the mood.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go as many rounds as you want him to most of the time, but usually settles for one considering he’d rather spend time with you cuddling than fucking (hot take ik). the whole scene would last around 30 minutes, he doesn’t last that long inside you honestly, but he spends most of his time teasing you with his fingers or getting his dick sucked.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn't like toys. he’s not so bothered about them when you’re using them and he’s with you, but he will get extremely jealous if you use them to masterbate with. you should have just asked him to fuck you.

he wouldn’t make a point of using them every time you had sex, it’s very rare that he will use dildos or vibrators on you. he does like handcuffs, whips etc but again, those only come out when he’s in a hard dom mood.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he likes to be mean. in fact, he LOVES to be mean. he’ll often tease you about how tiny you are compared to him, and how big you make his already huge cock look. he also will not hesitate to wink at you with his tongue out in what’s seems to everyone else “a playful manner” but you know that it means that he wants you to ride his face when you pair get home.

he also loves to touch you, but not enough to get you off. he’s not gonna make it easy for you, despite how easy you make it for him. he would intentionally rub your clit slowly while you pair make out, and would alternate between rubbing your clit, rubbing lengths of your pussy and fingering you, knowing this combination would be enough to bring you close enough to cumming that he could stop doing it at any moment and you’d squirm at him since he didn’t quite finish you off.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s quite whiney, but he also likes to talk a lot while fucking so all together, he’s very loud, and he’s be quite appreciative if you were too.

some of his favourite phrases are “it’s big, right? haha” “show me how well you can take this huge dick, baby” “you like it when i do this?” “why the tears? you think they’ll make me go soft? funny”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he likes when his bitch knows their place. he’d rather you didn’t act bratty all the time, instead accepted that you were his sub and that he was going to lead this whole deal. it turns him on a lot to know that you’re okay with him being like that, he can do whatever he wants with you (but don’t get me wrong he will ask for your consent with everything that he does).

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, the biggest dick in kpop. i’m gonna go big here and say 7-8 inches in length at least, with a girth that’s a little over average.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

ideally, he’d like to fuck every other day. every day is too much, it takes away the spark and the magic and begins to feel like a chore.

he’s a busy man but knows how to manage his schedule to reflect his needs.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s more hyper after sex, he needs like an hour to calm down. he loves to cuddle with you, have you fall asleep in his arms while watching a comfort show before falling asleep himself.

#smut #txt smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun #txt #txt imagines #yeonjun imagines

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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

Note

thick fog and papyrus? srsly tho what is up with his battle room lmao

Worth Fighting For

Rating: G Word Count: 1535 Read on AO3: here

---

“Are you sure you want to do this, brother?” Papyrus asked, even though he knew what the answer would be. Sans was the most stubborn monster Papyrus knew.

Sans would probably say the same about him. Their collective stubbornness led to month-long face offs over a discarded sock. Or to Papyrus cooking spaghetti three times a day, waiting for Sans to crack and tell him what was wrong with it.

Or to them standing at the edge of town, shrouded in thick fog.

“I’m sure.” Sans’s voice felt almost muffled by the mist.

That was part of the point. Anyone could train when they could hear and see their opponent. It would take a skilled fighter to battle under these conditions.

And Sans wanted to be skilled. Papyrus could hardly deny him that, after all the time he’d begged to train under Undyne.

“Right.” Papyrus gave a sharp nod, though Sans probably couldn’t see it. “Don’t expect me to go easy on you, br—”

A bone collided with his exposed spine. He yelped, though it was more from surprise than pain.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Through a gap in the fog, Papyrus caught his brother winking.

“Sans! That move is unsportsmanlike!” Papyrus rubbed his vertebrae. Of course, Sans could hardly injure him. Each of his attacks only shaved off one point of damage.

“Good thing fighting’s not a sport, huh?”

“Fighting is more than a sport! It is a way to express the hopes and dreams of your soul!!”

Sans sighed, disturbing the fog enough for Papyrus to see him again.

“Look, bro. I just want to be able to keep myself from getting dusted. I’ll save the dreams for when I’m sleeping.”

Papyrus’s brow pinched. Listening to Sans talk, you would think he never wanted to fight. But he did. Papyrus could see it in the darkness of his eyesockets, in the way his jaw set whenever something upset him.

Something had made Sans angry. Maybe even… frightened. None of Papyrus’s attempts to draw the truth from him succeeded, however.

Papyrus wanted to help Sans channel that anger into something more productive. Fighting could be productive! It could bring monsters together in ways nothing else could! But… not the way Sans went about it.

Maybe Papyrus just needed to show him.

A row of bones—carefully calibrated not to do damage—sprouted from the ground towards Sans. Papyrus couldn’t see him dodge, but he didn’t hear the telltale crack of bone on bone.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t go easy on me.”

A beam of light shot through the fog, and Papyrus sidestepped, his boots crunching in the thick snow. Several more beams followed it, but the pattern was easy to predict. The few times when Papyrus failed to dodge, the lasers barely tickled.

A muttered curse came from his left. Papyrus turned towards it, but didn’t ready another attack.

“Starting with your strongest attack is—”

“Bad sportsmanship?” Sans snapped.

“No. It’s just bad strategy.” Papyrus approached the sound of his voice. He bumped into a few of Sans’s blasters on the way and gave each of them a quick pet. “It’s safer to let your opponent underestimate you. Once you have them lulled into a false sense of security, you can secure your victory!”

“I don’t have time for that kind of strategy!” Sans sounded even angrier than Papyrus had expected. Maybe Papyrus was the one doing the underestimating. “I’m not like you! I don’t have hundreds of HP to spare! I’ve got one shot, and if I can’t—if I can’t win, then I’m…”

Papyrus’s eyesockets widened at Sans’s muffled sob.

“Oh, Sans.” He knelt down by his brother, feeling him rather than seeing him. He wrapped him in the tightest hug he could. Sans slumped in his arms, like all the fight had gone out of him.

“No one is going to hurt you. I promise,” Papyrus murmured. “I’ll protect you, brother.”

Sans tensed, and the moment shattered.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Sans pushed him back. His eyesockets had gone pitch black, two empty holes in the sea of white. “I’m—I was always supposed to take care of you, and I can’t—if I can’t stop the…”

Papyrus didn’t know what he was talking about, but expecting answers from Sans was like expecting Undyne to go a month without burning down her house. It wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, ignoring the hurt that Sans’s shove had caused. Hurt that went deeper than any bone attack or laser.

Perhaps he deserved it. Even if he didn’t know everything, he knew he had messed up.

“You’re right,” Papyrus admitted, making Sans’s head tilt in confusion. “I want you to be strong and great, too! In fact, you're already very strong and great! But we’re safe here, brother. Undyne and the Royal Guard will protect us when a human comes.”

He didn’t bother saying that he would be joining the Royal Guard. It was a matter of when at this point, surely. But the thought wouldn’t comfort Sans at the moment.

“‘M not worried about humans,” he muttered.

“Then… what are you worried about?”

Silence. Like the fog had stolen away even the slight sound of Sans’s rattling bones.

“...Doesn’t matter.” Sans’s eyesockets closed. “Forget it.”

For once, Papyrus decided to face his brother head-on. The way Undyne would.

“I cannot just forget something that is bothering you, brother.”

“Heh. We already have, though. Over and over and over again…”

“Then this time, we should help each other remember!” Papyrus reached out and felt for Sans’s shoulder, then gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Nah. Too much effort.”

Papyrus felt Sans shrug. Annoyance bubbled up in him, but he forced himself to let it go. He should’ve known better than to expect Sans to face his problems head-on. He wasn’t Undyne.

Papyrus blinked. “You’re not Undyne.”

Sans’s sockets cracked open in a confused squint. “Uh, yeah? Did I hit you too hard earlier?”

“No!” He shook his head quickly. “I mean! You don’t have the stats that Undyne and I do!”

“You don’t gotta rub it in.”

“Ugh, brother!” Papyrus sprung to his feet, his hands on his hips. “I’m trying to say, we need to train you differently! I’ve been doing this all wrong!”

“Nah, I’ve just been making it hard on you.” Sans sounded guilty. “Sorry. I’m not a real good student.”

“False! I simply need to recalibrate your curriculum! Nyeh heh heh!!”

A short time later, they again faced off in the dense fog. But this time, Papyrus encouraged Sans to use every underhanded trick in his arsenal.

“Don’t forget your shortcuts!” Papyrus called into the white void as he hurled another wave of bones.

“No good,” Sans huffed, presumably while dodging. “Can’t use ‘em... while anyone’s looking. Magic’s weird... like that.”

“Well, I cannot look with all this fog in the way! And whoever has a bone to pick with you will surely blink at one point or another!”

“...Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

And he did. Lasers blasted at Papyrus again. Blue attacks mixed with regular attacks mixed blue soul magic mixed with strange platforms that Papyrus discovered he could jump on without being harmed.

Until the platforms slid out from under him, dropping him into a spike-trap of bone attacks.

“Clever!” Papyrus called out, escaping with a blue magic-assisted leap. With that many attacks at once, his HP had actually taken a dent. “I bet you could create a maze with those! Any enemy would surely be confounded, then blasted to their senses!”

“Huh, that’s not a bad idea…”

Eventually Papyrus announced the end of the training session. He may have an abundance of HP, but Sans had kept him on his toes during the entire sparring match. There had been no time to sneak a bite of his cinnamon bun.

“So how’d I do? Think I’ll be joining you in the Guard any time soon?” Sans winked as they strode out of the fog.

“You want to join the Guard too?” Papyrus beamed until Sans looked away awkwardly.

“Nah, that was just a dumb joke. I’ve got enough to look out for with bein’ a sentry.”

Papyrus’s eyes narrowed. That was a pun, but at least it was of better quality than usual.

“Very well! It’s important to know your limits! If only so you can more effectively push them! Nyeh heh heh!” He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “And you certainly did so today! I’m very proud of you, brother.”

Sans’s head snapped up, his eyelights glowing brighter than Papyrus had seen in ages. He quickly schooled his expression into something less expressive, though.

“Geez, bro, all this sweet talk’s gonna go to my head.” He rapped on the side of his skull.

“Good! You need something to fill up all that empty space!”

Sans laughed out loud at that. “Thanks.”

Papyrus knew he wasn’t being thanked for the joke. Still, he played along.

“Of course! That’s what brothers are for!”

As long as Papyrus was around, Sans would never have to fight. But if Sans could feel more confident in himself…

That was something worth fighting for.

#fic tag #papyrus #sans #skelebros #tali writes #prompt requests #this was a fun one to do characterization wise

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

The tit for tat game was well known to both of their top confidants and lieutenants because it had been going on ever since Natsu and Lucy broke up. Plus, it was hard to get around such knowledge considering most of them came from the same neighborhoods. These intrigues ebbed and flowed like waves. Months could pass by without any interactions between the two, at other times they’d go back and forth continuously until one of them finally gave up, and on the odd occasion ended in a huge fight that led to another round of ignoring each other. Up until now, it had been kind of amusing to watch them torture each other because it was better than a drama shows on television. But that didn’t mean Natsu, and Lucy’s friends didn’t worry about one or both being truly hurt one day because of it.

“It’s fine,” Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray chastised him after the soapland incident. The two men were at Natsu’s home after work hours and supposed to be relaxing. But clearly his friend didn’t want to drop the subject. “What’s the big deal?”

“Dude, you let yourself be blindfolded in a public space! Have you forgotten what kind of business we’re in? What if it had been an assassin instead?”

“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. We’re talking about Lucy’s company, and I trust their security measures because she has just as much to lose if a hit took place there.”

“Still, you should be more careful, at least take a bodyguard with you…”

Natsu’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “And what, so they can watch the show? We got any voyeurs on the payroll? Cause I can’t think of anyone here who’d wanna see another guy getting his balls fondled!”

Gray ran a hand down his face. “So not the mental image I wanted. You’re missing the point.” He sighed. “Natsu you are the head of this clan, and your safety is my top priority.”

“I get it, I get it,” Natsu drawled.

“And frankly,” Gray continued, “you’ve become distracted by her lately.”

“Tch! No, I haven’t!”

“Yeah, you are. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you drive by her place sometimes. I know you’ve followed her to that coffee shop she likes to frequent. But ever since her employee was robbed, things have escalated again.”

“You’re imagining things and apparently spying on me. I’m just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Watching over you is my job! That’s not spying.” Gray crossed his arms. “And oh, it’s no doubt that you’re keeping an eye on her. That’s why you went to Katsunuma’s party and to soapland too. The problem is you’re getting sloppy and sloppy gets people killed.”

Natsu groaned. “Are you done yet? We’re supposed to be enjoying the baseball game, not psychoanalyzing my life.”

“Almost.” Gray placed a hand on his friends’ knee and leaned in. “Natsu, you’ve been chasing that tail since high school, just lock her down and convince her to work together already.”

Natsu snorted a laugh. “Gray we all grew up together, so what in all these years makes you think that’s a possibility? You know damn well Lucy’s not a woman you can control without her consent.” Natsu knew that, and frankly he loved that part of her. In fact, it made him even more fired up whenever he thought about it, just like a treasure you don’t just find but must win at the end of a game. “I’ll find a way, some day.”

“Well until that day arrives, could you promise me you’ll be more cautious?”

“Fine, fine,” Natsu waved his hand. “I’ll back off of Lucy for now.”

“Good.” Gray relaxed back onto his recliner thinking the drama was over.

“However, there is a new guy I want surveillance placed on.”

“Who?”

“The bartender from the party.”

Gray groaned. “Seriously? Why? He’s just a bartender!”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Was he spiking the drinks or something? Dealing drugs at the party?”

“Maybe.”

Gray huffed. “You really gonna try that? Do I look like an idiot? This is just straight jealousy talking.”

“I don’t care! I want someone to dig up what they can on the guy!”

“No, what you wanna know is if he fucked Lucy that night!”

Natsu jumped up with his fists clenched. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!” Gray stood up and matched his boss’s energy. “Unless you give me a damn good reason to check into him, I’m not wasting my guy’s time! You might be the boss, but don’t you fucking forget who you’re talking to! I’m not some punk off the streets!”

Realizing he was taking things too far, Natsu sat back down. “Sorry.”

Gray sighed and plopped back down too. “I only joined because you asked me to and you’re my best friend, then I helped you build this new empire, so I’m just as invested in protecting it as you are. But Natsu, personal emotions have led to the downfall of many in this business, and as a friend, I’ll check you any time I think you’re going to far.”

“You’re right…” Natsu sighed too. “She just gets me so worked up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gray laughed, but stopped when Natsu glared at him. “Sorry, it slipped out.”

“But I swear, there’s something suspicious about him. When he saw me, I thought he just reacted because he thought I was Lucy’s boyfriend or something, but the more I think about it, he might have recognized me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious either.”

“True. But the look in his eyes just made me wonder.”

“Alright…” Gray groaned, “if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have someone do some digging. So, you said he has orange hair and glasses, and the name on his tag was Loke?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s an unusual name, shouldn’t be too hard to check on.”

Over the course of a couple of weeks, Gray sent out feelers for any information on this Loke guy. Katsunuma junior gave them their first small lead that the bartender had worked the party through a local food catering company. That catering company was a legitimate business who had both full-time staff as well as independent contractors brought in per event as needed. Loke had been one of the latter. From there Gray obtained a last name, de Lioncourt.

According to his sources at the local precinct, Loke de Lioncourt had no rap sheet, no prior dealings with police, and for all they knew was an average citizen. The man’s Line blog profile listed him as a 28-year-old, Japanese/French American, model and bartender, and it was filled with pictures from events, parties, as well as many gorgeous women— none of which contained Lucy. But as Gray trolled through the man’s feed, he did come across one person he recognized and passed the information along to Natsu.

“Wow, she’s in a bunch of photos,” Natsu mumbled as he scrolled through the blog.

“Well, considering Cana’s reputation are you surprised. Parties and alcohol are the two things that woman lives for.” Gray laughed. “Now see, this makes sense to me. Lucy and him, not so much.”

“Tch… still pisses me off he even tried.”

“Lucy’s a free woman, she can go out with whoever she wants to.”

“We’ll see about that,” Natsu mumbled low.

“What was that?” Gray asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing.”

“Better be nothing, cause this is a dead end. He’s just a flirty bartender. It’s how they make tips.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Natsu sat back in his chair. “So, back to business. What this I heard about some missing stock?”

“Oh, right. One of the warehouse clerks noticed a shortage, but when I checked with Yura, he said the books were fine. I had him show it to me, and it appears the numbers were just inverted by accident. So, instead of 185 kilos, it’s supposed to be 158 kilos.”

“Did you talk to the clerk again? Does he have any history of messing up like this?”

“Nah, he’s one of our better clerks.”

“Just keep an eye on it.”

“Sure thing, boss. By the way, have you seen Gajeel today?” Gray questioned. “I haven’t seen him.”

“He called me this morning said he wasn’t feeling well, thinks he ate something bad for dinner last night.”

“Tch, seriously? Thought he had an iron stomach?”

Natsu shrugged. “Must’a been some bad sushi or something. We ain’t got much happening today, so it’s fine. Anything else? I got some stuff I need to finish.”

Gray tapped his chin. “Just a reminder you have an appointment with our tech guy dropping by later this week to go over some upgrades on the system.”

“Like I’m supposed to know anything about that stuff, it’s what I pay him for.”

“You still gotta approve it,” Gray shrugged and took his leave.

Once the man was completely out of the office, Natsu opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a nondescript box he’d hidden inside. He grinned to himself. It was time to make another special delivery. Even though he’d told Gray he was backing off the whole Lucy and Loke subject, there was no way he was gonna let it slide. Natsu didn’t care if the man seemed legit, and he wasn’t the first nor would probably be the last that he’d eventually scared away. And besides, being a Yakuza boss had a lot of down times too, easily filled with having a little fun.

Today’s little care package was being sent to Lucy by a courier service and Natsu just had to drop it off to the delivery company. Just a normal company like Kuroneko Yamato so it wouldn’t rouse too many suspicions. It was turning into a fun game for him just coming up with ideas of what he could do to rile Lucy up or irritate this Loke guy. Natsu chuckled to himself. So far, his favorite prank was a box of small sized condoms and a bottle of enhancement pills that he’d had delivered to Loke while on the job at another party. He’d even snuck in to watch it delivered, gaining a good laugh when the man took a peek in the box and frowned at its contents.

It was childish, but Natsu didn’t care. Every day for two weeks now, something new was sent to Loke. Random gifts like children’s candy to a toy gun, a big bottle of lubricant wrapped in a bow, a week’s worth of meals sent for lunch one day, even an empty box with rocks inside it just to drive the man crazy wondering who in the world was sending them. Lucy too wasn’t immune to his pranks, though hers had a different feel to them. Flowers with no note attached. Tickets to a canceled show he made up. A supposed dinner invite from Loke that wasn’t real— okay that was to test her, but she didn’t fall for it. And today’s little care package fit right into his prank scheme.

Natsu dropped off the package at a Kuroneko Yamato office with the address instructions already filled out and paid the company’s employee extra to keep their mouths shut. ‘She’s gonna kill me one day,’ he laughed to himself as he rode back to his office. ‘If it’s suffocation by her boobs it wouldn’t be a bad way to go!’

“Anymore stops sir?” The driver asked Natsu.

“Nope. Back to the office.”

He looked at his watch. The package should be arriving at Lucy’s office within the hour. Give or take another to open it, and by 4pm he would be receiving another phone call. Maybe he won’t answer it. Oh, that would piss her off even more! ‘Well, if she’d just take the hint...’

The afternoon was supposed to be mellow at headquarters that day. No shipments, and no appointments. But when Natsu got back, another general in the organization named Jellal Fernandez came to his office to inform him of a problem. One of the new local restaurants in their territory was refusing to cooperate and he wanted to know how Natsu wanted it handled. They were right in the middle of discussing it, when Natsu’s office door flew open with a loud bang!

In stomped Lucy who immediately threw a box at his head, causing Natsu to duck and Jellal to pull his gun.

“Don’t!” Natsu screamed at his general and motioned for him to stand down, to which the man complied. “Do you have a death wish Lucy!”

“Get. Out.” She snapped at the general. “Get out! This is between me and your boss!”

Jellal looked to Natsu, who nodded his head to scram. “I got this, don’t worry.” The man holstered his gun and left, but Natsu could see he’d stayed right outside of the now closed door.

“I take it you didn’t like the gift,” Natsu pretended to stay calm.

“Gee, me throwing it at you give you that impression? I know it’s you sending all these damn deliveries to me and Loke. That needs to stop now!”

He crossed his arms and scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Play dumb all you want. Just stop! Why are you even doing this?!”

“Take a guess,” he sneered back.

“I could’ve sworn we were adults now, but apparently I’m the only one who grew up. Stay out of my love life Natsu!”

“So, you admit you’re sleeping with the guy!”

“That’s none of your damn business! I can fuck whoever I want!”

“Not as long as I’m alive,” Natsu growled back.

Lucy crossed her arms. “That could be arranged.”

“Is that a threat?!”

“Yes! If you don’t stay out of my love life!”

“A woman shouldn’t be sleepi—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence!” Lucy grabbed a stapler that was within reach and chucked it at Natsu’s head. “Stop trying to control me!”

“Are you crazy?!”

At that moment, Gray barged into the room. He’d heard the screaming from the other side of the office, and when he got close enough to see Jellal standing outside the door, he became alarmed. Why would a general leave Natsu vulnerable! The man told him their boss told him to leave, but as the sounds inside escalated, Gray couldn’t wait anymore.

“Stop it!!” Gray got between them. “What are you two doing! Lucy you shouldn’t be here!”

“Then tell your damn boss to leave me the fuck alone!” Lucy spat back. “Ask him how he’s been harassing Loke and me!”

Gray turned to his boss with a groan. “Natsu, we talked about this!”

“Tell Gray what you been doing!” Lucy pressed. “Show him the stupid packages you send!”

“What packages?” Gray looked to Lucy, then repeated the question as he stared at his boss. “What packages?”

“Tch,” Natsu crossed his arms, “it’s not even that bad.”

Lucy stomped over to where the box fell and picked it up, pulling the contents out. “Bullshit!” She snapped as she held up a very racy, red nightie with flame prints, a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a large dildo. “See this shit?!” Lucy shook the floppy latex toy at Gray before chucking it to the ground again. “He includes messages too,” then handed the man a folded piece of paper.

Gray read it aloud, “to make up for what playboy lacks. Had it custom made to my size wink wink. Ugh, seriously man,” he tossed the letter.

Natsu shrugged. “I was just having fun.”

“This is the yakuza, not a daycare!” Gray snaps. “I’m not here to babysit the boss so he stops harassing the competition! There’s more important business to worry about!”

“That’s right listen to Gray,” Lucy sneered.

Gray turned to her. “Oh, you ain’t innocent either, so don’t even try it. You both do things to purposely rile the other up and get mad when there’s consequences. Stop it!” He looked back and forth between the two. “Just stop it already!”

Natsu and Lucy looked away from the man with scowls on their faces. Neither wanted to admit he was right.

“Jellal,” Gray called out. When the man entered, he instructed him to escort Lucy out of there. “Next time, just call me instead. It’s best you two just stay away from each other. Got it?!”

“Yeah,” Lucy grumped.

“Got it?!” Gray questioned his boss.

“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled.

“Fucking like high school,” Gray ran a hand down his face in irritation. “You two need therapy.”

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #ch 6 #we'll take back heaven #petri808

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 4 years

Text

Favorite Human

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: McCall!Pack x reader (platonic) Word count: 2.8k Summary: It’s Malia who first smells it - the bitter scent that had started to Infiltrate yours - and she, Lyida and Kira decide to find out what was wrong with you... Warning: Nothing too much really, but it’s slightly Angsty I guess. Also the feels Requested by the amazing, patient and great anon: Hi~,Teen Wolf person again. Can i request a pack image where the reader is hiding something for the pack and the pack are all sort of catching on to it like chemosignals and behaviour. Eventually they kinda piece the bits together and figure it out. they all try to comfort you and help you get better. Something just along those lines.(They could be hiding selfharm stuff, family stuff or they like someone in the group or yeah, you can pick what your comfort writing for) Thank you have a nice day~

The California sun was beating down on Beacon Hills and its inhabitants, a feeling of peace and calm that was - by now - almost foreign in the city laid in the air and prompted the resident teenagers and young adults to enjoy a day away from school, stress and (for a very special group) life threatening situations. This particular group - the McCall pack, as they were known in the supernatural community of the city - decided to spend their free time on a very nice, but fairly unknown clearing in the beacon hill woods and for once being surrounded by these trees didn’t give them the vibe that one of them could probably die at any given moment. It was a rather nice change. “Uno,” Liam smiled as he slapped a +4 card onto the floor, making Mason groan and throw his head back. It was the third time in a row that Liam was winning and while it seemed to leave you completely cold it annoyed Mason to no end, but he couldn’t stop playing either until either you or him finally beat the wolf. While the three of you were sitting in your game circle, Malia, Lydia and Kira were lounging on a picnic blanket enjoying the sun and having their conversation. The only one who was sitting on the grass like a lost puppy was Stiles, phone in hand but seemingly not having the attention span to focus on it for more than five consecutive seconds. Originally he and Scott had been sitting there together talking about Lacrosse or girls or whatever the two of them talked about when they weren’t planning to save the city, but Scott had - after lots of pleading and begging on his betas part - disappeared into the direction of the city to buy some ice cream for everyone. “Y/N?” Liam shocked your shoulder and you had to shake your head to come back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Yes?” you looked at him with wide doe-eyes full of confusion. “It’s your turn.” “Oh, right, sorry, just lost in thoughts,” you smiled apologetically and shrugged before turning to your cards to think about your next move, not noticing how Liam and Mason exchanged a look. They had started to notice the change in your behaviour only recently. Your usual very cheery, always-seeing-the-best-in-everyone-and-everything self started to be stuck in your thoughts more often and your smile seemed just a little bit off lately. “Here you go,” you looked up again and put a +2 in front of Liam earning a quiet ‘Yessss’ from Mason at the prospect of finally beating his best friend, only to be sorely disappointed when a smirk immediately filled Liam’s face as he victoriously added his own - last - +2 card onto the pile, effectively winning the game and starting a rather useless discussion about whether the fact that the makers of Uno stated that putting a +2 on another +2 and making it a +4 wasn’t allowed counted anything. While Mason and Liam kept on blickering you pulled yourself up from the grass-floor and wandered over to the girls who welcomed you with kind smiles and made space for you on the blanket. As you sank down you were immediately pulled into Malias lap who hugged you into her and pressed her nose into your neck and y/h/l hair to smell you - a habit of hers that you had at first found more than disturbing but by now had gotten used to. In fact, the more time you spent with your not-quite-human friends and acquaintances, the more you noticed that they all had their own little versions of that, even though with Malia it was the most extreme since she was still the one running mostly on her basic instincts. At least that’s how Stiles explained it to you. He said that since you were logically seen the most vulnerable and ‘weak’ member of the pack their natural instincts where to protect and shield you from all dangers and make sure you are alright and - after your initial reaction of punching the hell out of Stiles’ shoulder in order to show him just how not-weak you were - you started registering it more and more. It was mostly very little things with Scott, Liam, Derek and in some situations (even though rarely) Peter like little hugs and giving you their clothes to scent you, pushing themselves in front of you in the face of even the most harmless of situations or the way they just sometimes randomly turned up at your house (this was mostly Scott, Liam and Malia though) to check if you’re okay even if they could just call. With Malia it was all that, but times ten in intensitivity. And the smelling. Malia herself wasn’t quite sure why, but she simply loved your natural scent. It always managed to calm her down. So you got used to her randomly smelling at you even if it did weird you out from time to time. Usually she would pull back after a few seconds, give you a happy smile and get back to what she was doing before like nothing happened, but this time when she drew back she looked at you displeased and confused. “Is something the matter?” you asked just as confused and now the other girls, who had gotten used to Malias antics and taken on the habit of just completely ignoring it in order not to get growled at, got curious as well and turned their attention towards you. “Something’s off,” Malia grumbled and scrunched her nose like she’s smelt something rotten. “Oi!” you scoffed and moved back a little, feign being offended, “Are you telling me I stink?” “No,” Malia sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s not that, it’s just...your scent is- I don’t know how to put it really. Bitter? I think?” “What does that mean?” Lydia asked, her interest now seemingly spiked. “‘M not sure,” Malia shrugged and moved forward to take another good sniff at your hair, only for you to move your head back out of her reach and put your hands on her shoulders to keep her a distance away from you. “I think that’s quite enough,” you chuckled, but it sounded mechanical almost, “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t really think me smelling bitter means anything.” Noticing the way you held yourself defensive, something that you almost never did, all three of the girls wanted to investigate further, but you quickly moved off of Malia’s lap and stood up. “Oh look, there’s our ice cream,” you smiled as if nothing was happening and jogged over to your Alpha to help him. “This was weird, right? She’s acting weird, isn’t she?” Kira questioned and looked between the other two girls who nodded, “What’s that about?” “Not sure, but we gotta find out before the boys notice anything. Malia is bad enough already, but if the male wolfies find out we’ll have a real problem on our hands,” Lydia sighed and inspected you from afar.

After then the three of them noticed it far more often, the way you held yourself changed and your smile seemed to lessen by the day. By the time you started to fold into yourself and Malia said that your smell was getting more bitter, to the extent that she could smell it above almost everything else surrounding you, they knew that it had gotten out of their hands. They had to involve the others as much as they dreaded their reactions. As they had predicted Scott, Liam and - surprisingly enough for a human - Stiles didn’t react kindly to it, immediately planning to confront you. But in a turn of events, their thirst for actions and the girls rational thinking evened each other out and they decided on an approach that was reluctant enough to not scare you away, while also - hopefully - pushing you to tell them what was wrong. They wanted to do it in an environment that you felt comfortable in so they decided to go to your place, but that meant that they couldn’t all come, since they didn’t want to overwhelm you either. So, after a long and exhausting discussion, they decided that Stiles would be the one who’d go in first to make sure everything was clear and then give the others a heads up to follow. The Pack was standing - as inconspicuous as it was possible for a group of five - on the other side of the street your house was in as Stiles was walking down your driveway, welcomed by a cute door plate that had obviously been made my a little child and he was pretty safe in his assumption that you had been the one who had made it when you were younger. After taking a breath of reassurance Stiles raised his hand and knocked on the door. You must have been near the door already, because not even ten second later the door was tipped open and you stared at him with tired eyes, in your alien Pajamas with messy hair. If Stiles had not known better he would have assumed you had tried to sleep. “Who is it Honey?” He heard the voice of your mother scream, but the usual sweet voice he was used to hearing from her was strained and mixed with annoyance. “Uhm...It’s Stiles! My friend from school, he was here last month to study for my english exam, you remember?” “Oh, yes,” your mother walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, “Hello Stiles.” Stiles returned the greeting, but his thoughts were more occupied by the state of your mother. Her hair looked unwashed and even more messy than yours, obviously not because of sleep, but rather because she hadn’t brushed it in a while, there were red stains under her eyes, the skin around it dry and strained, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she must have cried - a lot - and her blouse was wrinkled, which he knew from their previous meetings and what you had told him about her would usually be a no-go for her. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” she smiled, but it was tight-lipped and obviously forced, but before she disappeared into the kitchen again she looked at you, “Y/N, make it fast please.” You just nodded and turned back to Stiles. “Hey,” he said again, a little bit uncertain now, the situation having thrown him off of the plan he had made in his head on the way from the pack to the door. “Hi,” you said and he had to admit that you were definitely your mothers daughter by the way your forced smile perfectly resembled hers. “I wanted to talk to you, uhm, we - I mean me and the pack by that, well it started with Lydia, Malia and Kira, but anyways - we noticed that you’ve been...how do I put this correctly- well, I guess you’ve been off more lately and so we’ve been worried, because usually you smile a lot and you always make unfunny jokes and all that and now you don’t so-” Stiles rambled and just let everything flow out at once, probably would have continued to do so if you hadn’t held up your hand to stop him. “Not-Not here, okay? I’ll answer your questions, but not here. Let’s take this outside, please,” you shut Stiles up and took his arm to lead him out of your house and onto your porch where you sat down on the stairs leading onto your front law. For a while there was silence as Stiles found himself unsure of what to do next, but he could basically feel the piercing stares of his friends on him. After a few seconds of contemplating he sat down beside you, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just to make sure he wasn’t too overwhelming. “So…” “Yeah, so…” “Why...have you been so off?” Stiles asked but honestly couldn’t help but cringe a bit at how completely un-smooth he sounded. “I- It’s-” you tried multiple approaches, but stopped yourself every time, only to sink your face into your hands and sigh, “I’m sorry.” You raised your face again and looked at Stiles and he could see the sadness, this slight sense of despair. “Hey, it’s okay, don’t rush yourself,” Stiles tried to comfort you, “If you can’t tell me that’s okay, we’re just all very worried about you. We want to make sure that you’re okay.” “No, it’s fine, I- I think I actually wanted to tell you all for a while, but- I don’t really know, it’s just been hard for me… My parent’s have been going through some rough patches for the last few months and now my dad - he,” you stopped again and hugged your arms around you, Stiles couldn’t help but notice the glistening of tears in your eyes, “-He moved out two weeks ago. I mean, sure there were signs, it wasn’t working well by all means, but moving out? That was pretty shocking for my mom and me.” By now the tears had started rolling down your face and Stiles couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved closer to you and laid his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. It seemed that the pack couldn’t hold back anymore either, because only a few seconds either Lydia was kneeling in front of you holding your hands, the rest also finding positions around you - hoping to give you as much comfort as possible. You gave them a wet chuckle, even though your tears didn’t stop flowing. “I could’ve guessed that you’re not far. I’m sorry for being a mess.” “No, Don’t ever be sorry for feeling. We love you and that means that we’ll be there for you through the bad times just as we are in the good times,” Scott assured you and lovingly petted your head even though he knew that you always complained about how it made you feel like a little child or a puppy. “Thank you guys for being here - it’s just a lot right now. My mom is expecting me to be on her side, while my dad keeps expecting me to decide about where I’m going to live now. He wants me to move with him to New York into the city he grew up in, but I don't want to leave Beacon Hills. I have my whole life here, my school, you guys, my mom, literally everything, but I also don’t want to lose him- It’s just, I feel so torn and it seems like every choice I could take would be the wrong one,” you were full on sobbing at that point, but it was clear enough for your friends to understand you. “Hey, It’s okay,” Lydia tried to calm you down, “I know that this seems like an impossible choice, but I can assure you we will find a way. We’ve defeated some of the greatest evils that the world has seen and we were successful. We’ll be just as successful with this, okay?” You started nodding and for the first time in a while you were actually feeling just a little bit like yourself again, a sliver of home filling your heart at all your friends who were by your side and supporting you. “Lydia’s right,” Scott agreed. “There’s one thing I gotta ask though,” Liam started and before anyone else with a little more sense of sensibility could stop him asked: “Why didn’t you tell us before? I mean we’re you’re best friends ri-” At that moment Mason basically threw himself at him and put his hand in front of his mouth to shut him up. “You don’t have to answer that,” Kira assured you, but you just shook your head. “No, it’s fine, I get why he asked. I- I guess I just thought - it’s like Lydia said, we fight evil on a weekly base, we have to worry about so much more serious things than my stupid family drama.” “Now listen to me,” Lydia spoke up in her I-will-take-no-talkbacks-voice and looked at your sternly, “This is not stupid and it is by no means less imporant than anything else we do, okay? Maybe it’s not life-threatening or supernatural, but it is still hurting you and as friends we can’t let anything hurt our favorite human, can we now?” And in that moment everything was okay again - if only for just a few seconds - with your friends by your side and Stiles yelp of protest, because he insisted that he was at least Scott’s favorite human, - earning himself a look from Scott that told him that what Lydia said also applied to him - even made you laugh your normal laugh again. And so, when Malia finally got close enough to you with all your friends surrounding you to smell your scent, she found that your normal, sweet scent was finally returning again, and even though there was still a bitter undertone to it she now was sure that it would soon be back to her favorite scent again.

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tellmenauineo · 3 years

Text

colored by you

pairing: mingyu x reader, vernon x reader

genre: soulmate!au, angst, fluff, smut, comedy (at some points)

warnings: mentions of alcholol and weed, language, unprotected sex

summary: eventually, we fall in love with people who the universe destined us to. but there are complications sometimes.

word count: 11k (i refuse to comment)

a/n: tell me what you think even if you found it bad 🤧🤧 i’m in NEED of feedback,, stay safe during the pandemic and feel free to talk to me!! i’m sorta back 🤠🤠

“I'd prefer if you showed more enthusiasm about it. Success is never an accident,” your mother reads you a lesson, a reproach can be heard in her voice. Your sigh, wishing this conversation to be over so you’ll finally be able to hang up your phone.

“Some people aren't built happy, or cheerful, or forever excited, you know,” you mumble. “I'm satisfied with my academical success – but maybe it isn't a thing I want to achieve now. I don't know.”

“Of course, people aren't built happy – that’s why the Universe made a soulmate for each of us. To make us happy. That's how it works.”

“Uh-huh.”

“One day you’ll understand,” your mother continues. “And you will be happier, happier than ever. Your time will come.”

You won't understand.

The Universe made a soulmate for each of us. The Universe made sure we’ll be aware who is the one, the one, as your mother says, who’ll make you happier and complete, too. It's pretty simple. First words addressing you that you would hear from your soulmate get imprinted on the skin of your ribcage. Close to your heart.

The mechanism of The Universe is perfect. But, sometimes, even perfect-made things get broken.

You won't understand because you already have words tattooed on your skin.

“I guess, we can say love is an accident, isn't it?” you say. “Anyway, I gotta go, mom. I'll call you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Take care of yourself. And don't stay up late.”

“We both know I'm gonna stay up late,” you smile. “Bye!”

It happened in cold January, four months ago.

“Shrimp Pad Thai?” Chan asks you.

“Mm, yes,” you say, fluttering your eyelashes innocently. Chan gasps and raises his eyebrows in a fake disbelief, but you don't let him open his mouth to say something very sarcastic about you and your habits in eating. “I'm your customer, where are your manners? What if I leave?”

“Then you'll leave and won't have our Shrimp Pad Thai which you order five days a week,” he shrugs.

“I'm older than you – pay me respect!”

“I do? Always? Our very important customer who always eats the same,” he playfully sing-songs and you roll your eyes, trying your best not to give him a smile.

“Go and get us food already,” Momo says. “Both of you better not play on my nerves when I'm hungry.”

When the orders are made and Chan leaves to the kitchen, you get up from your seat.

“I'm going to wash my hands,” you announce, and your friend nods at it.

On your way to the restrooms you recognize a bunch of boys sitting at the window booth. Kim Mingyu, Wen Junhui and Jeon Wonwoo – all of them are in Soonyoung’s group of friends. Wonwoo smiles and waves his hand and you return the gesture. You nod at Junhui and Mingyu – who looks incredibly soft and cute in his light-gray hoodie with his rose cheeks – seems that the ramen he is eating is too spicy for him. He gives you a little “hey”, smiling at you, and you immediately feel how your own cheeks turn blushy. To prevent your embarrassment in front of them, you try to speed up, but, suddenly, collide with someone.

“Uh, I can feel my chilli sauce dripping.”

You look up at the source of the voice, Chwe Hansol, the new Soonyoung’s roommate you heard a lot about (and you’re aware that Soonyoung not just can’t stop telling embarrassing stories about you to his roommate, but also shows him your pictures, because yes, in Soonyoung’s words, it’s a crime if you don’t put on display your best friend and your wonderful, a movie-worthy, friendship) and, apparently, there is no bottle of chilli sauce in his hands. A smug smile is playing on his lips and his chocolate eyes are glistening with a mischief.

“Nice try,” you don't hide a hint of a wipe in your voice as you start moving towards the restrooms – you swear a trip to them never took that long.

You catch Hansol's gaze on you on the way back to your and Momo’s booth and you have nothing to do but narrow your eyes at him, making him smile even wider.

“He's cute, though. The Hansol guy I mean,” Momo concludes after you finished your dinner. “But no shit they're loud.”

You cast an eye at their boost. Mingyu is the loudest and the most talkative among them – but, somehow, looking at him telling something, wildly gesticulating, makes your heart melt a little.

Stupid, you think, it's almost close to feeling happy.

You spot the tattoo when you go to take a shower that night.

Your heart sinks at the sight of the words.

“Uh, I can feel my chilli sauce dripping.”

You don't tell anyone.

“I can take it as an offend, you know,” Soonyoung whines. “You've been turning down my home party offers for more than a month!”

“Um, you haven’t had any,” you say.

It’s true – you try your best to avoid Hansol, and it works even despite the fact he lives with your best friend (sometimes you’re wondering how Soonyoung and Hansol, the pair of complete opposites, rub along okay together, but maybe opposites indeed attract?). You’re not fond of the idea you reduced all your social interactions, but at least you do your huge amount of homework in time – that’s why Soonyoung once called you a homework-doing machine.

Yes, that’s lame.

“It’s because you didn’t come!”

You’re clearly under pressure. You can crack under it a little bit.

Just a little bit.

“Because I-” you forget what you want to say to explain yourself. Or, rather, to fudge up an excuse to trick Soonyoung and keep staying from Hansol as long as possible. “It’s complicated. Besides, your roommate sticks at home for days on end, and if I want to spend time with you I want us to be alone,” you point at him with your pen.

His eyes are getting wider and wider with each millisecond and finally he gasps,

“Are you in love with me?!”

Well.

“What if I am?” you challenge. At the end of the day, that’s the words of the woman who has nothing to lose.

“I-” it’s Soonyoung, who is under pressure right now. “I love you, you know it-”

“But, there’s always a but,” you sigh in a fake manner. “I understand. Maybe I haven’t yearned it yet,” you place your hand over his, and his eyes are glued to your hands. “But, Soonyoung, I want to hear ‘horanghae’ from you someday. Will my dream come true?”

He lifts up his eyes to you. Soonyoung’s known you for over a decade and he clearly can say you’re on the verge of bursting into a hearty laugh despite your dying attempts to keep your face straight. He snaps his hand away and stands up.

“Yah! You betrayed me!” he points a finger at you. “Yah!” he continues in a voice that is a few octaves higher than his usual. “You are gonna pay for your betrayal!”

“Sure thing,” you manage to say through your laugh. You’re well aware that almost all eyes in the campus cafeteria are on you, but it was quite common when the two of you were together. “I’ll see you in court, horangi.”

You wish you were in court.

Instead, you’re in Soonyoung and Hansol’s kitchen, mixing the sickest possible cocktail ever – and you’re not proud of yourself.

“Why it looks like wiper fluid but tastes like lab alcohol?” Seungkwan asks, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Your mirror his expression.

“Um, the creator would like to take to his own grave the secret receipt of this… shit,” you say.

By the creator you mean Soonyoung. You’re on duty tonight – it’s Hansol and Seokmin’s double birthday party and you’re in charge of everything – your best friend had no mercy for the cafeteria joke.

“Don’t tell me the upcoming birthday cakes have the same creator,” the boy says, patting his blond locks back into place. You assume he was dancing, or, more likely, slamming in the living room, while you hide in the kitchen, still avoiding Seokmin co-star of this night, Hansol.

“Nah, I ordered them in the bakery. Customized ones!”

“You should’ve asked me to bake the cakes,” the third person enters the room, and your heart skips a bit. Mingyu walks towards you and Seungkwan and leans on the counter, still having his eyes on you. “I need to improve my baking skills.”

You feel how your cheeks flushing up. Shit, you curse in your head, he just made an appearance and you’re already turning into mush.

“Next time maybe?” you ask, your voice is much more gentle than usual. “Whose birthday is next?”

“Mine,” smiles Mingyu. “But I don’t want to hold a party this year – wanna share a dinner tete-a-tete with someone.”

“Such a great plan! Except for one thing – you don’t have ‘someone’,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes.

“I’ll find one,” Mingyu’s words are steady but his movements are not. His right elbow slips off the counter, and the boy hisses. “I’m already working on this.”

“Sure thing, tiger,” you smile despite feeling that something is scratching your guts in your belly – disappointment? jealousy? sadness? Maybe all of them and maybe none.

You have a soulmate for fuck’s sake and it’s not Mingyu.

“Whatever,” Seungkwan mutters. “I’m going back to the party and I strongly recommend you to stop hiding here,” he says, looking you right in the eyes. “He won’t bite you, you know?”

“What are you talking about?!” you exclaim, but Seungkwan only shrugs.

“Have no idea.”

You want to follow him, take him by the shoulders and ask about everything he knows about – did Hansol tell him about you? Seems so. Has he, Seungkwan, launched the making of the two of you a couple campaign? If yes, you’re doomed.

Mingyu stops you from storming out of the kitchen – you’re back to the reality with his warm hand wrapped around your wrist and you turn to him in surprise, your cheeks already flushed.

“Yes?” you manage to mumble.

“Who are you hiding from?” he asks, and you almost hear concern in his voice. Or maybe you imagine it all.

“Um- no one? He’s being delusional like always, you know?”

“You sure?’ his hand is getting lower, and unexpectedly you find your fingers intertwining with his. Mingyu’s hand is much larger and warmer than yours, his hold isn’t tight, but it magically makes you forget about the whole the soulmate and his wingman thing.

It makes you forget about everything except for this particular moment – Mingyu’s dark eyes on you, your hand in his and the echo of the music playing in the living room. His bronze skin’s glowing in the dim kitchen light (one of the bulbs is dead and neither Soonyoung or Hansol wants to do something about it), his face is innocent and the only thing you can think about – your uncontrollable desire to kiss off two worry lines between his perfect eyebrows.

You don’t even notice that you’re holding your breath, too afraid to interrupt the moment.

“I’m sure,” you whisper and he nods. Mingyu probably can hear the beating of your racing heart, and you don’t mind at all – you would eagerly tell him how he makes you feel if he wants to know.

He leans closer to you, his breath is tickling the soft skin of your cheek and you hear him ask,

“May I?”

But before you can nod, Seokmin’s piercing voice, like a bolt out of the blue, is calling your name,

“Soonyoung’s trying to kiss me!”

He is louder than any bomb, you think, and that’s enough to take you out of the trance. You slowly turn to him, letting go of Mingyu’s hold on your wrist.

“It’s his way to wish you a happy birthday,” you negotiate, but Seokmin’s gaze is wandering between your and Mingyu’s bodies. His hand follows his eyes, gesturing at the two of you.

“Are you-”

“No, no, no,” you cut him off.

“Man, you need me to get the thing squared away?” Mingyu sounds irritated. You turn your head to steal a look of him. You never saw him like that – at least, not with his friends. Even when his team was defeated at the bowling a month or so ago he seemed worn out, but no hint of irritation on his face – just an exhausted smile combined with a self-mockery behavior. That night you almost regretted saying your wrist was injured so you spent the whole game sipping bubble teas instead of helping your team from sinking to the bottom.

(Jeonghan didn’t buy that spectacular performance, by the way)

“I came to complain?” he looks at you, the eyes so innocent, calling for help, so you smile in response – it’s always like this with Seokmin – the boy can melt even stone hearts.

“Let me check on him,” you say to Seokmin, and he eagerly nods. You pat on Mingyu’s right forearm, your fingers stay on his hard bicep for a little too long, and it makes you lick your lips. “And if he needs to get into bed, I expect some help from you, Mingyu.”

His face softens, and he chuckles, closing his eyes for a second.

“Let’s get it then.”

“I ain’t leaving till I help you with this,” Mingyu says, referring to the apartment that looks like a battlefield (of beer pong). “You already look tired.”

“I’m tired,” you admit. “But you have classes like in…” you check your watch. “…four hours.”

“I’ll sit in the back of the classroom,” seeing the question in your eyes, he adds. “I’ll catch some sleep, don’t worry.”

“Sounds stupid, but I guess nothing would change your mind,” you give up, and a proud smile appears on his face. “The living room is yours then,” you give him an evil smile, your hand lands on his firm chest, patting it twice. “Have fun!”

When you step into the kitchen, a sigh of disappointment leaves your lips, despite your vain attempt to suppress it.

Hansol sits in the white plastic chair, mindlessly scrolling through whichever app is it’s feed. He looks up at you, but he next second his eyes are back on the screen.

Your body feels stiff, like you’re made of wood, but you force yourself to approach the counter. The desire to disappear is so strong that you find yourself not breathing at all – like if you make less noises, the more Hansol is unaware you’re in the same room with him.

You grab a handful of orange peels to throw in the trash can under the sink when you hear Hansol voice, “Why didn’t you throw out all of them?” You turn to the boy, cheeks already red, and anger is bubbling in your stomach. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he lets a hoarse laugh.

“I’m joking, jeez. No need to sulk.”

You don’t return his smile, instead turning away from him to take the leftovers, and say,

“It couldn’t fit in my hand.”

He coos at your words, and you feel stupid.

“Soonyoung was right. You’re an absolute doll.”

“Not impressed,” you roll your eyes, but you feel no confidence in your voice. You face Hansol again, a mischievous glint in his big eyes can be spotted even from across the kitchen. “Your eyes are red,” you notice. “Are you stoned?”

“Maybe so,” he yawns, stretching out in the chair that is about to crack under his weight at any minute. “I don’t mind you tucking me in, though. You seem to be a pro.”

“Well, don’t overdo it,” you say. “The scientists say weed makes people stupid.”

“And affects their memory,” he adds. “But it makes me copy.”

“With what?”

Hansol shrugs and his gaze falls to his knees. He radiates hesitation, and you gulp the pulse in your throat, afraid to hear the truth.

“With me being avoided by my own soulmate like I’m sorta of a plague? Sorta.”

A wave of pure heat that feels like a fever, a bad fever, runs through your body. The whole soulmate thing was supposed to be a blessing, but it feels like a curse. Without thinking, you pathetically mumble,

“I thought you don’t care.”

You really did. For the last few weeks you’ve been living in the bubble made of your own sorrows, disappointments, and self-pity, and the thought of what Hansol feels and thinks about it never crossed your mind.

“Whatever,” he says. “I got your point.”

Hansol doesn’t wait for the unspoken words that are stuck in the back of your throat, ringing in your ears over and over as you watch him leaving the kitchen. He stops at the doorframe with his hand in his dark locks – it’s so odd to see him not wearing a beanie – and slowly turns to you.

“Leave this shit to Soonyoung,” he says.

“Okay,” you mutter.

He calls your name, shooting the arrow of guilt right into your heart.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

When Mingyu returns to ask where he can find another bag for trash, you cling to the boy’s chest, and skipping all the questions on the tip of his tongue, Mingyu clasps his arms around you. His chin is snuggling upon your head and you feel pressure inside of the bubble reducing a little.

But a tremendous guilt envelops you with each minute.

Momo stares at your figure as you sit across her – your hair cascading down onto your hunched shoulders, your face is covered with your hands, and the girl only huffs.

“Should I expect some fake sobs?”

You spare a fiery glance at her, but she just waves you off in dismisal. Momo doesn’t even trying to hide her irritation with you – the first thing she asked you after you finally had decided to spill the whole situation to her was ‘Could you have taken any longer to tell me?” and you can’t blame her.

“Yah, leave these tricks for your future sweetheart Sollie. I’m not buying it.”

“He is not my future sweetheart,” you argue. “It doesn’t work!”

“Because you never gave it a chance,” she isn’t convinced, and her stern tone makes you consider the words more carefully.

“He hates me now!”

“First, you deserved it. No offense. Second, he seems like a crackhead, such people don’t hate other people, they just don’t care about them.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” you exclaim, and her face breaks into a triumphant smile. “What?”

“Look at you, already defending your soulmate,” she says in a saccharine voice. “Ask him out and fall in love. Choose life. Choose a loveseat coach.”

“Isn’t it from Trainspotting movie?” you question, narrowing your eyes.

“And what about it?” she huffs once again. “It doesn’t make me wrong. It always starts with a crush. Just let it happen.”

A crush, huh? A crush that makes your heart beats harder; that sends you floating in your daydreams; that makes you the happiest person in the whole universe, but at the same time has the power to make you sadder than the most distant and loneliest star from the Sun?

Just like the one you have on Mingyu?

Momo still doesn’t know how you feel about the tall, black-haired boy, and you aren’t ready to tell her the truth. Partly because you want to protect this thing from the outer world, make it special, make it a secret that can be kept by the two only, and, partly because you’ll face the wall of misunderstanding. You could fool around with the boys before, but now you’re certain with the one who is destined for you. And you can’t – you shouldn’t – seek for another lover. It’s wrong.

The ability to make all your problems yourself will never fail to amaze you.

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “If you’re so smart.”

“I could’ve been your mother, though. You should follow my every word.”

“Momo, we literally were born in the same decade,” you sigh, but the girl has no intention to follow any of your words.

[mingyyuu 17:13] it’s so cold today!! stay inside 🖤

[you 17:14] too late :// plans!!

[mingyyuu 17:16] any plans for tomorrow?

[you 17:16] not yet

[mingyyuu 17:17] now you have some!

The boy continues to type, but you have to put the phone in the back pocket of your jeans – you’re awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to the other at the doorstep, not able to say anything – even a small ‘hello’.

“Soonyoung’s at the dance practice,” Hansol breaks the silence.

“I know his schedule better than he does,” you can’t help but roll your eyes. “I came for your soul.”

Hansol raises his brows, his eyes never leave yours as he steps aside to let you in. The boy helps you with your jacket, and you mutter a small ‘thank you’, hoping he’ll take the initiative, even despite the fact it’s you who came to talk.

“How are you doin’?” maybe it’s a soulmate thing to read each other’s mind? You look at Hansol and you have a feeling that you’ll never be able to go through the guard around him and straight to his head. His expression is neutral, and you admit that he doesn’t even need to try look beautiful.

“Nothing much,” you response. “What ‘bout you?”

“Okay. Wanna drink something?”

“A pepsi please?”

“We only have a few cans of coke, do you wanna?”

You already feel strange of that crazy amount of questions for the beginning – the situation becomes more and more awkward that you’re able to feel the pressure of the air in the room. Your temples pulse a little, threating a headache.

“Nah, I’m fine then,” you say, taking a deep breath. “I came here to say I’m sorry and-”

“And?”

“Do you think we should be together?”

“It how it works,” he lets out a dry laugh. Hansol looks down to your face, his hand reaches out to stroke your shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

The grip on your temples is too tight to bear, and you let out a heavy pant.

“My head hurts,” you explain, squeezing your eyes shut – the light is too bright.

“You need to lie down,” Hansol says. “It’s probably because the temperature difference between inside and outside. I’ll bring painkillers to Soonyoung’s bedroom.”

You nod, heading off to the bedroom. What a great wat to talk - show up at someone’s doorstep just to say you have a headache. Great. Not bothering yourself with discarding your clothes, you collapse stomach-down onto the bed without removing the cover, your face is buried in the soft material.

“Shit, you’ll suffocate if you stay like this,” Hansol’s deep voice wafts on your ears. You slowly lean on your elbows to steal a glance at him. After placing the glass of water and the blister of painkillers at the night stand, he gets down on his haunches, his eyes at the same level as yours. You stay like this for some time, not saying a word, mesmerized by his face.

“What did you do before I came?” you ask out of sudden. Hansol seems to be taken aback with your question.

“Tried to make some music,” he gawks, blinking at you.

“Really?” you ask in a low voice.

“Mostly checked the mic with some ‘yeah’s’ and ‘yo’s’”, he admits, an amusing laugh escapes his mouth. “I’ll try to do something while you’re resting, good?”

You nod you head and smile at him. He gently squeezes your shoulder and stands up. Before he disappears out of the bedroom, you say,

“Do you have any siblings?”

He turns to you, leaning back against the wall.

“Yeah. I have a little sister. You?”

You shake your head no and he nods.

“But it was easy to guess you’re not the only child, though,” it’s difficult to see his face in the darkness, but your eyes never leave him.

“How so?”

“You offer a compromise when it's unnecessarily,” you sniggle. “A man of settled habits.”

You see his wide smile in the dark.

You force your eyes open and sit up in the bed, your hair disheveled and slightly damp at the back of your neck. Headache has gone, at least for now, but your throat feels dry. When you come to the kitchen, you see the note in Hansol’s infamous unsteady handwriting left on the counter:

you can find pepsi in the fridge!

You smile at the gesture and inside you sense warmth.

You knock at Hansol’s bedroom door twice and after the boy calls out for your entry, you slip through the door.

Hansol sits at the table, bobbing his head in time with the song that hums from the speakers. His eyes are glued to his laptop, the headphones rest above his ears.

“Does the work go smoothly?” you ask, sitting at the corner of his bed. He turns to face you; a soft smile is playing on his lips.

“Yeah, it’s okay. There are many things that I think I’m lacking in, but I work on them,” he says in a serious tone. “But I’ve finally finished the song that had been haunting me for weeks.”

“Oh, that’s great!” you beam at him.

“Your snoring from the next room inspired me,” he places his hand over his heart. “I’ll be forever grateful for that.”

You lightly kick his calf, and the boy laughs. Rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes, he draws his attention back to you.

“Feel better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer. Nodding, Hansol notices your gaze focusing on the screen of his laptop. There’re the unknown for you tools placed on his table, except for the microphone, of course, and you’re wondering what kind of music he’s into.

“Wanna hear it?” he asks, once again showing his amazing ability to read your mind.

“Yes!” you hearty nod. “Want my headache to be back.”

Hansol rolls his eyes, muttering a small ‘sure’ under his breath, and places the mouse cursor over the play button. The speakers are small, but even despite it you sense the music vibrate through your body. The beat is harsh, his voice is piercing, and it feels like the most Hansol’s thing he could’ve ever done, but at the same time you’ve got an inkling that the tune and the lyrics were created by his mysterious twin.

“You really made this?” your eyes are wide and your hand clutches hold of his wrist.

“Yeah,” he hums nervously, bringing his free hand to rub at the back of his head.

“It’s good! I can’t believe you haven’t signed a ten-million dollars contract yet!”

“You heard just one song,” he smiles in a protest. “Thanks anyway.”

“I’m right, though,” you say, your hand leaving his as you smile at him. “You should be a star! I can’t say what I liked about it ‘cause I don’t know anything about music, but the whole thing is perfect!”

He looks up to you, your cheeks flushed with passion and your eyes glisten as candles burn bright, and it brings a proud smile on his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurts.

“You’re beautiful too,” your words are sincere, filled with pure appreciation you have for this melted chocolate eyed boy. The idea of you frightened of meeting him a few hours ago seems like a pure absurd right now – when the two of you sit that close to each other, you having a string of questions to ask him about his life, interests, hopes and dreams, and on your tongue the whole story of your life is tingling to be uttered at the same time.

“It was unexpected,” he chuckles. “Thanks again.”

“Thanks for the pepsi,” you return. “I thought you had only coke?”

“Um, I went to the convenience store across the street while you were asleep,” he says, his eyes are wandering on the wall. You can hardly take a breath.

“You shouldn’t have,” you say.

“It’s not a big deal,” he shrugs. Nodding, you slip off his bed and go toward the window. Leaning your forehead against the cool glass, you take a deep breath.

“Is Soonyoung still at the practice?” you ask, your voice is low.

“I guess,” Hansol perches at the windowsill. “I kinda lost track of time.”

You feel the heat his body radiates. Theoretically, you think, you find him somewhat sexy, really manly. His long scraggy neck, broad shoulders, a spectacular torso you can notice even under his oversized t-shirts, and athletic thighs. A month ago, your informant told you that Hansol barely shows up in the gym, and you wonder if the boy was gifted with capability of being perfect without even trying.

And still, he isn’t Mingyu, who makes you feel being in love.

You want to tell Mingyu the truth about your wrong destiny, your aching heart that can be healed with his smile only, and the feeling of your stomach filled with butterflies. You want him to hold your hand, pushing all the doubts and fears away, and make you his. His, despite the cruel joke The Universe played on you.

You think, you have a feeling, he would understand it, because he believes in strength of choice. Mingyu is in a constant state of moving forward, overcoming all obstacles he might face.

Would it be the first time when he stops?

You and Hansol both stay silent till the whole apartment echoes with Soonyoung’s ringing voice.

“Woah, I like the pictures!” Mingyu approves with a hum, adjusting something on his camera. “They’re perfect.”

“Because they’re pictures of me or because it’s you who took them?” you smile, a playful glint in your eyes as you nudge him.

“Let me think,” the boy stops in his tracks, his brows furrow in a fake manner, indicating he is absorbed in his thoughts. “Both.”

“Wow,” you play along, shaking your head and pressing your lips together. “Groundbreaking.”

He giggles and slides his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Wish I could tickle you right now, bit your jacket doesn’t give a chance.”

You shove off his hand and see a small pout forming on his plush lips.

“It’s my protection from pervs like you, Mingyu,” you smile innocently, casting sheeps eyes on him.

“Pervs don’t ask for a permission,” he opposes matter-of-factly. You raise your brows at him in question, and it doesn’t take long for him to explain. “Let me kiss you.”

You raise your head at Mingyu to see him smiling down at you with shining eyes, his cheeks are glowing from the frosty air.

“Go ahead,” you smile, and he leans down and kiss you. His lips are warm and sweet, and you never expect to feel care through a kiss as his mouth is covering yours. His hand cups your cheek while the other is placed tightly at the base of your neck. You trace your tongue against his lower lip, his tongue is eager to meet yours. You tease the inside of his mouth, and Mingyu lets out a small groan, which is enough to bring you to senses, and you break the kiss.

“We’re outside, Guy,” you softly remind him, your grip at his forearms is loosen.

“And so?” he whines, tugging at your sleeves to keep you body close to him.

“And we’re late,” you try to reason, but frankly speaking, you better would have stayed in the previous position you shared with Mingyu than going anywhere. “Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner we leave.”

The idea of karaoke night seemed promising, to say at least, but with Seungkwan occupying the microphone and Seokmin taking the guise of being his bodyguard, preventing any attempt of borrowing the tool out of his hands, ebullience faded into despair.

Jun is scrolling through his phone, and you find it okay; Soonyoung is busying himself with fourth bowl of ramen in a row, and it begins to worry you; Jihoon is yawning in thirsty eight second intervals, and the fact of you really counting begins to worry you; Mingyu’s playing with your hands, his head rests against your shoulder, you find it normal too.

You toy with his dark hair and lower yourself to whisper in his ear.

“Take me out.”

“Your wish is my command,” Mingyu smiles with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He straightens up off the sofa and extends his hand to you. You stretch out your own hand and place it in Mingyu’s warm palm.

After wrapping everyone, except for Seungkwan who is too absorbed in the singing and waves the two of you off in dismissal, for a goodbye hug, you go downstairs to put the clothes on.

“Stop staring,” you say to Mingyu, catching his gaze in the mirror, a smile parts your lips. You pull up the hood of your jacket and turn to the boy.

“Can’t help it,” he admits, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb is stroking your cheek gently, and he leans to steal a kiss from your lips.

“Oh, shit,” Seungkwan says, puckering his face into a frown. “Came to say my goodbye, but this,” he gestures at the two of you.

“Grow up,” Mingyu shrugs his shoulders. Seungkwan’s glare bores a hole right through your head, and you can only silently pray for him to not allow his anger upstage his reason.

“Seungkwan, please,” you say. “Let’s talk about it later.”

“Sure,” the younger boy rolls his eyes. “It’s not me who you should talk to, though.”

“What’s the problem?” Mingyu groans in frustration.

“I don’t know. What’s your problem?” Seungkwan scoffs, shifting his gaze from Mingyu to you and back to Mingyu again.

“It’s none of your business,” you snap. “I’m not in the mood for one of your soap operas.”

You storm out of the building, your blood is boiling with the mixture of anger, fear, and realization of all things you used to have fell to pieces in a matter of seconds.

“Hey, wait,” Mingyu grabs your hand, and you stop, too afraid to look at him. “What’s the matter?”

You’re struck by an incredible sense of fear, of confusion, of vulnerability, but you finally have to face the reality.

“The problem is,” you sigh. “Hansol is my soulmate.”

“Don’t cry,” Soonyoung tries to conciliate you, his hand is rubbing against your back, and he tightens the embrace. “I’m here for you.”

At this point, you even hate yourself for the damp spot on his sweatshirt made with your tears. You want to concentrate on Soonyoung’s words uttered in a small voice, almost whispering, but as you think about Mingyu, about how on his face thoughts and feelings seemed connate – his pained stare said everything, – standing in front of you, you feel a sharp pain in your heart.

“Do you despise me?” your voice sounds desperate.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t ask such a shitty question to my best friend,” he says. “You’re the best.”

You laugh bitterly. Soonyoung treats you too nicely – without asking why you’d been keeping so many secrets from him till this night, rebuking Seungkwan for standing guard over Hansol’s feelings, promising Mingyu will pay dearly in the nearest future for his superior sense of morality or whatever.

“What about Hansol?” you ask him, your eyes still are full of tears and pain, but you force a small smile.

“Will kick him out,” his voice is firm, and you sink your face into the soft material of his cloth, suppressing a bigger smile that threats to appear on your lips.

“Soonyoung, I’ve made four enemies this year, and it’s only the end of February,” your voice is muffled as you keep pressing your face onto the boy’s chest. “Momo, Mingyu, Hansol, Seungkwan – all of them hate me for being stupid, for not telling the truth, for being a bitch, for-”

“Shh. It’s their problem, not yours. It’s them who won’t survive ‘cause they made enemies of us. Listen to me,” he calls your name, making a passionate appeal. “We’re undefeatable, you and me.”

You lift your head at him, finding him keeping his eyes on the ceiling in a dramatic way, and you snicker. His lips twist into a broad smile, and he looks at you.

“They don’t hate you,” he says. “Life is complicating, so are we. They know about it.”

You meet Mingyu at the library. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and he’s surprisingly quiet.

“Seungkwan said Hansol fell for you only after Soonyoung’s countless ramblings about you. He indeed stared at your pics, I suppose.”

He’s in pain.

You feel empty inside; a terrible anguish seizes your heart.

“Do you feel the same about him?” an involuntary question slips off his tongue.

You want to say it’s him, it’s only him who made you fall, who made you feel at ease, who made you want to give and not just to take, but you can’t.

He waits for a response you’ll never be able to come up with.

This night you cry yourself to sleep.

Weeks go by.

The three of you – you, Hansol, and Soonyoung – glue your eyes to the television set placed at the wall of the boys’ living-room. Watching different tv series with them somehow has turned into therapy sessions – despite experiencing triggers at almost everything that is shown, you feel you’re not alone. The two of them act like nothing happened, and all of you are ready to meet your soulmates someday.

But, if nothing happened, why Mingyu’s name is forbidden from saying out loud because it would fill you with pain?

“You have popcorn crumbs on your shirt,” you notice, pointing at Soonyoung with the remote in your hand.

“I preferred watching tv to reading books when i was younger,” the boy says, dusting the crumbs off his torso and lap.

“And it shows,” you tease. Soonyoung gives you a light pinch on the side and straightens up with a huff.

“I’m going to bed,” he announces. “The bathroom is occupied for the next thirty minutes.”

Hansol nods and bids Soonyoung goodnight as you blow him a kiss – his laughter never fails to boost your mood.

“Resuming?” you ask Hansol. “I’m not sleepy.”

“Neither am I.”

It’s completely dark apart from the television’s dim yellow glow. Somehow, you find yourself being distracted by almost everything – the pattern of the wooden floor, the material of the couch, the streetlamp right outside the window, the plant that is going to die soon due to Soonyoung and Hansol’s lack of care.

Hansol.

His eyes flicker in your direction, catching you staring at him. You don’t look away.

“Am I more interesting than the show?” he asks, not expecting you reply with a quiet ‘yes’. A blush coloring his cheeks can be spotted even in the poorly illuminated room.

“You’re so shy sometimes,” you remark in a low voice. “You didn’t seem so when I first met you.”

“I felt some courage out of nothing,” he shakes his head, his long and slender fingers tapping his knees. “When I saw you.”

You sigh. How the Universe can be broken? Maybe you’re broken?

“I read that if you’re dealing with schizophrenia your emotions are mixed up – you feel something you shouldn’t have felt and express something you don’t feel.”

“Scientific facts again, huh? You’re referring to me?” he grins.

“To myself, I guess,” there is no smile at your features as you sigh. “Or maybe it’s – I don’t know, to be honest.”

“Hey, I know its not gonna work but I’ll say it anyway,” he reaches out his hand to yours and gently squeezes it. “Don’t think shit about yourself. Don’t say shit,” he pauses. “When the words appeared I was surprised, no shit. But as I find out more and more things about you, all of it start to make sense. I don’t want anyone’s words but yours on me. That’s it. That’s the thing I feel.”

He’s beautiful, you think, very beautiful.

Your eyes wander over his face and finally stop at his lips. The contour of his mouth is perfect – Hansol’s lips aren’t plump, but neither are thin – just perfect – and the little bruise on his lower lip makes you unable to brush your overwhelming desire to have a lick over this exact spot. You hesitate – and even now the image of Mingyu settles on you.

But when you feel Hansol’s lips on yours, you let him in. He claims your mouth passionately, and you slide your hands into his hair, pulling on his locks, and he groans in your mouth. When you pull back for a moment, your eyes flooded with haze, Hansol traces his thumb over your slick with his spit lips, sending a shiver down your spine. He leans onto you again, his lips ghosting over yours, the redolent scent of his musky cologne makes your head even more dizzy.

“I want you,” he whispers into your lips, his voice is cracking.

“You can have me,” you breathe out, closing your eyes as his lips decorate your neck in sloppy kisses.

You can have me, but can you have my heart?

The question finds lodgment in your mind.

You might lose the thing you love the most, but life goes on… and here we stand.

You’ve discovered you’re an excellent pretender.

Pretend you think nothing of going without sleep for several nights and then attend your classes. Pretend you’re not tired. Pretend you like the tasteless dish in the restaurant Momo brought you to. Pretend it’s not painful to be in the same room with Mingyu. Pretend you love Hansol back.

“My legs are killing me,” Seungkwan whines. “I just don’t know how much more of it I can take.”

Same, you think, fucking same.

“Wait a little more and I’ll buy you a hotdog,” Mingyu promises, looking over his shoulder to see you wearily stagger behind them. The combination of the three of you is weird, you find, but life goes on, isn’t it?

It’s May, and the three is you are stuck in Ikea’s mazes – Mingyu needs to buy some new furniture – this is what brings him to the mall, but also Mingyu needs someone to keep him company – and this is what brings you and Seungkwan to the same place. Mingyu calls your name, and you lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows in a question.

“You good? How ‘bout a few hotdogs after?”

“And milkshakes,” Seungkwan adds.

“Just an ice cream please,” you mumble, and he nods. Sometimes it’s so awkward – to be around him. Sometimes it’s natural. But mostly it’s painful.

Standing in the parking lot, waiting for Mingyu and Seungkwan while they’re stuffing the things Mingyu bought into the trunk of his car, you dumbly watch the ice cream steadily dripping down your hand.

Damn.

No ice cream can help you feel good even a bit.

You enter Hansol’s bedroom and find him at the wooden floor, lying on his back, eyes closed. With his arms and legs splayed out, he reminds you a giant starfish.

“Are you even breathing?” you chuckle, bending over him.

“I am,” Hansol smiles, his eyes stay closed, and he taps slightly on his chest. “C’mere.”

You oblige, your head nestle against his chest, and you hear his steady heartbeat. He wraps his left arm around you and inhales deeply.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes out of sudden, and you turn your head to look at him. “The first words were stupid, and you’ll have them for forever.”

“Suit us very well,” you poke, and he sniffs, reaching out to slightly pinch your cheek. “Hey! Stop!”

Hansol laughs, squeezing you tighter, and the sound of his slow and steady breathing lulls you to sleep. Your gaze is directed at the ceiling as you try to fight against sleep. “You’re so composed, but also so goofy, but also so delicate,” you sigh, thinking out loud as your fingertips trace up and down the soft skin of his wrist. Hansol’s warm. “But the first words were wacky,” you chuckle. “What’ve done to deserve them?”

“It was Russian roulette, baby,” he hums, and you can hear him smiling.

You fall asleep like that. You dream about buying the beige sofa you saw in Ikea and Mingyu’s endless attempts to change your mind – the green one is a way better, he insists. The green one would suit the interior perfectly, you agree with him, but the beige one is so classy, and maybe even a little obligatory? Every apartment should have one, but Mingyu only shakes his head in frustration.

“I'm not sure you’re one hundred percent positive about what you’re convincing me of,” he purses his lips.

Dreams that are hardly can be distinguish from reality are exhausting. You wish there was a way to put this worry to bed once and for all.

“Okay, so the concept of your birthday party is dubstep,” you verify. “And the main dish excepted for a barbeque duck is an ice cream cake?”

“I scream, you scream, gimme that ice cream,” Soonyoung’s enjoyment is evidenced by his wide smile. You playfully roll your eyes, not really hiding the excitement you share with him.

“Why do I feel that we’re constantly hanging out at birthday parties?” Hansol asks, peering at his phone screen, not bothering to straighten his head from its bending position.

“Because our friend group is too huge for people our age,” you make a point.

“It’s so expensive to have a lot of friends,” Soonyoung complains, but when he meets your questionable gaze, he adds. “But for you, my bestie, money’s no object.”

“Good to know,” you laugh, your fingers leisurely run above the rim of the empty cup of matcha latte. “I’m more upset about my dear boyfriend didn’t show any interest in volunteering at preps for the party.”

Hansol smiles, tapping on his phone, his eyes are anchored on the screen, and you narrow your expression at him, shaking your head in a scolding manner.

“And now he pretends he doesn’t hear me,” you say. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

Hansol’s face brightens and broadens out into a beaming smile, and the sound of Soonyoung’s giggles fills the air.

“I’ll ask Seokmin to help you,” the older boy suggests, and you raise your eyebrow at him.

“I know you’re saying it for the best of reasons, but Seokmin rather is a distraction than a help,” you debate, and Soonyoung raises his small hands in surrender, his eyes becoming crescent-shaped due to his laugh.

“Okay, I’ll send backup,” he promises. “At the end of the day, Mingyu’s good at cooking and cleaning.”

It would’ve been hard for him not to realize he put his foot in his mouth mentioning Mingyu as the mood tensely shifts. You freeze, alike Hansol, his thumb is hovering over the phone screen for seconds. Soonyoung offers you an apologetic smile, and you smile at the boy back, reassuring him it’s okay – he really did nothing wrong. Hansol’s avoiding your questioning gaze, hiding his eyes behind his curly bangs, and you gently brush a section of his hair from his face, wanting to see him clearly.

“Are you jealous, Sollie?” you try to joke, a soft smile playing on your lips, your hand placed on his cheek. As he raises his eyes at you, nerves are evident in them, your heart sinks, and you feel breathless. He won’t ask you if he should be, he won’t make any scenes – but he may shut himself off, locking his feelings deep inside, and you fear it the most. You don’t mean to hurt him, but you’re still providing him a good amount of pain – he isn’t an idiot who can’t figure out that Mingyu’s never really left your heart.

“No,” he simply says. “I’ll help you with everything.”

“You’re a bigger distraction than Seokmin for me, but how can I say no to my sweet boyfriend?” you take his offer, your thumb is stroking his cheek, and the action soothes away the tension he has. Hansol smiles gently at you, and for a second, you’re wondering if he is as good at pretending as you are.

“How did you manage to rent this beach house?” Soonyoung asks in a pure awe. “Such places are always booked!”

“Nothing’s impossible when you love your friend,” you muse. “Besides, thank Hansol – he used his “music industry contacts” to make you happy.”

“Hey, you insult me using air quotes around ‘music industry contacts’,” Hansol slides his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him, and places a quick peck on the tip of your nose. You stab him in the chest with your index finger, and he fakes a gasp.

“Eavesdropping?” you ask.

“Learning a lot about me,” he grins and draws his attention to the birthday boy. “Like the party?”

“No shit,” Soonyoung laughs. “I’ll like it better if you dance with me,” he says your name, his eyes sparkle brighter than colorful lights blasting through the house.

“Anything for a five stars rate.”

You’re out of breath, the clothes stick to your covered in sweat body, and you wince.

“I’m done,” you announce to Soonyoung, his batteries fully charged as he continues his active dance.

“Get some fresh air and come back!” he yells over the music, and you nod. Crossing the room to the back porch, you spot Hansol in the corner, talking to Joshua and showing the older boy something on his phone screen. Unnoticed, you go directly to the shore until the music of the party drowns in the sound waves, and inhale warm salty air. The water seems so tempting, calling you to step into the waves, their rhythm is hypnotizing you, and you kick your shoes off, perfectly understand the night water is too cold for swimming.

A familiar voice stops you, calling your name. You turn around, greeted with Mingyu’s tall figure, shining like a bronze statue, his tanned skin sheens magical when graced by the evening sun.

“Why do you always tend to sneak out?” he asks, once he made it up to you, a warm smile already crept onto his mouth as he saw you.

“I don’t know, maybe I just like being in crowds,” you shrug your shoulders – it’s true. You really don’t know the answer. He moves closer to you, and you finally spot a small bouquet in his hand. His eyes follow yours, and he chuckles.

“It’s for you,” he shyly passes you the flowers, his teeth press into his bottom lips. “I passed by those wildflowers on my way here and picked them for you.”

“It’s not my birthday,” you laugh. “But thank you, I love it,” you say, nuzzling your nose against the tender petals. You look up at the boy and lock your eyes with his, a tickling feeling spreading in your chest. The waves are lapping on the peaceful and quiet shore, but you feel electricity surging through your body. You stand on your tiptoes and place a delicate kiss on his soft cheek, the action is innocent, but for Mingyu it’s like hearing a starting whistle.

“You’re still in my thoughts,” he breathes. “Still here,” he reaches over to grab your hand and place it over his chest, and through your fingertips you’re able to feel his rapid heart. Tears are starting to form at the rim of your eyes, and your vision becomes blurred. Your fingers crawl into the flowers he gave you, pressing against the vulnerable stems. “It’s egoistic, I know, you’re dating my friend, your soulmate, but why does it feel like you’re mine?”

“I don’t know,” you sob. The next second you find yourself against his firm chest and you inhale his scent that feels like home. Not a place where you live, but home. He plants a kiss to the crown of your head and puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Look at me,” the golden boy suddenly says. “Please.”

You look up at him and see his eyes briefly dropping to your lips, and despite yourself you feel that familiar tingling in your gut, wanting him to kiss you. He reads you like an open book and he is kissing you, his lips softly press against yours, a tender flavor on your tongue.

“Mingyu,” you whisper in a small voice, pulling out from him. “I can’t. I can’t do this to Hansol.”

The boy looks at you with a pained expression, and in his eyes you can see that he wishes he didn’t have a heart at all.

“I’m sorry, angel,” he mutters, and you nod your head, your heart is swelling at the nickname.

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

You lock yourself up in the bathroom, hoping no one saw your state while you were hurrying upstairs. Suddenly, someone tries the handle, but it jingles with no success.

“It’s occupied!” you try your best to sound calm, but your voice is trembling.

“It’s me,” Hansol’s muffled voice leaks through the door. “Let me in.”

You turn the lock and face Hansol, your eyes are all red and watery from crying. The boy locks the door behind him and turns to face you, his piercing eyes burn right into your soul.

“You love him,” he says, too delicate to torture you with questions, and you feel even worse – if it’s possible – paralyzed with fear and regrets, guilt eating you inside out, and you swallow the lump in your throat. You let out a wet sob, not being able to look into his sad eyes.

You broke his heart.

“I’m sorry, Sol,” you say, feeling powerless, loss for words to say to him, to explain yourself, to apologize. “I don’t know what should I do. I don’t know what should we do.”

“If he makes you happier than I could,” he looks above your head. “I’ll accept it someday.”

“You don’t deserve this,” you say, feeling so stupid, only wishing that the floor would open up and swallow you.

“Maybe soulmates aren’t bond only by romantic shit,” his deep voice comes to you through the mist. You don’t ask him to give you a chance, don’t change his mind – maybe this painful reveal of the truth will make your heart feel a little bit lighter one day, even if right now you’re sure this is never going to happen.

You don’t complain and do not want pity from anyone – you’re sick and tired of Soonyoung tiptoeing around you, trying to keep you from collapsing; of the silent treatment Seungkwan gives you, scornful looks he spares you every single time you see him get you to another level of anger; of a constant scratching sense of guilt you’ve been racked with since your break-up with Hansol, but somehow he never blames you even if he should; of Momo dragging you to the shop malls and making you keep shopping until you cheer up.

Of you can’t getting up the nerve to answer any of Mingyu’s calls, too afraid of something you can’t even describe.

Momo’s straight face catches you off guard, and you only gasp,

“He what?! No, no, no,” you shake your head in disbelief. “You’re making this up.”

“What for?” the girl rolls her eyes back deep into their sockets. “Mingyu invited you to his picnic party or whatever through me cause you’re too deaf to pick up your phone, nothing special.”

“Will you come with me?” your eyes meet hers in the bathroom mirror, your expression makes Momo give you her infamous crinkly-eyed smile.

“He didn’t ask me to come – only you,” she purrs, taking her lip gloss out of the small bag. “He’s so fucking in love with you, you little witch.”

“I-” you stutter, the crimson red blush spreads across your cheeks, and Momo laughs and gives you a playful shove.

“Don’t you dare to say no,” she warns. “You’ll deal with me.”

“What would I do without you, Momo?” you smile at her. Even if you asked playfully, you really mean it – and the warmth in your chest proves it.

Mingyu seems nervous as he clumsy steps into your apartment, his chest is tensed with the breath he holds. The boy is dressed in a loose white t-shirt and high-wasted velvety pants, and you sigh in relief – the picnic party - as Momo called it - obviously wasn’t planned as something fancy.

“Thanks for picking me up,” you smile.

��Thanks for coming. Means a world,” he says, poking his cheek with his tongue, a shy smile follows his words. You missed him. Missed everything about him – the small giggles he lets while talking with that slight lisp to you, the shake of his head when he can’t understand something, the pout appearing on his plump lips when he realizes the item he wanted to buy is out of stock, the bright smile beaming on his face while he spills out his ideas for photography, the warmth of his palm holding yours in the pocket of his woolen coat.

“Who else is gonna be there?” you ask during your drive to the beach – Mingyu found the place perfect for a picnic, especially in the hot summer.

“Um,” he hesitates for a moment, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you. “It’s just the two of us.”

“Oh,” you breath. “I see. Momo didn’t tell me.”

“Blame yourself for leaving me on read,” he grins obnoxiously and you roll your eyes defensively. “Now you’re stuck with me. I forgot to mention one thing, though.”

“Which one?” you rake your eyes over him, admiring how the sun’s rays paint his skin in a golden glitter. “It’s a date.”

You dig your toes into the cool sand, glancing into the evening sky. Mingyu follows your eyeline.

“You can’t see the stars for reflected light from the city,” you notice. “But here we have a chance.”

“No way,” Mingyu protests. “And you know why?”

“Why so?” you turn your face to him, a big smile spread on his lips.

“All Seoul’s stars are in your eyes,” he is smiling so wide that his cheeks must have hurt and he pulls you closer, wrapping both arms around you, tugging you into his lap.

“Shut up,” you laugh, smacking him on the chest, your fingers touching the soft fabric of his shirt. Mingyu’s lips are ghosting over your cheek for a moment before he speaks again,

“But I have lots of things to say,” Mingyu murmurs, biting softly at your earlobe, and a very familiar feeling creeps up into the pit of your stomach.

“Like what?”

“Like, let’s swim,” he takes you aback with the suggestion and you blink at him dumbly. “I didn’t bring my swimsuit with me,” you say.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs. “We’re alone here. No one’ll see.”

You push up from his body and meet his eyes glossy with playfulness and challenge, and you nod at his words. Mingyu grinning at you mischievously, while he removes his clothes – his shirt and pants find their place at the sand – as you see each piece of his skin revealing itself. You inhale deeply, and he leans his head closer to yours, the warm palms rubbing up and down your arms.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, and you’re surprised he can tell this just from your body language, and it makes your heart flutter, pounding even faster against your ribcage. His words encourage you, and he silently watches you removing your dress, the only pieces of clothing on your skin are your bra and panties. Mingyu gently squeezes your hand, his thumb softly strokes back and forth over your knuckles. “Catch me.”

And within a couple of seconds, he is already pushing into the water, everything below his waist out of sight. You slowly step onto the sparkling waves, a lazy smile playing on your lips, as you see Mingyu splashing over to you with a childish pout on his face.

“You’re supposed to catch me, but you don’t even try,” he whines and steps closer to you, pressing his hands to either sides of your neck, his thumb rubbing the hollow of your throat. He looks dreamlike with his skin stick from the water, making him glisten in the soft evening light.

“It’s not the only thing I didn’t do what I was supposed to do. I was born to live without you, remember?” you whisper against his wet lips as he leans over you.

“It doesn’t matter,” he hums, letting his fingers brush against the words inked on your side. “I don’t need to be told who I love.”

You’d been feeling like you were drowning for too long, drowning in the cool water of sorrows, doubts, and self-destruction for too long, but only now you can breathe -

“You love me?” you say in a quiet voice, almost as if it was a secret, and the soft look on his face makes your heart skip a beat, overflowing with love and affection.

“I do. So I ask you to stay with me,” he pleads. Not just for tonight, not for tomorrow morning, but-

“Take me home.”

Rattling keys, the sound of giggles stopped with the kisses, Mingyu’s hot mouth on your pulse point, your hands tugging at his black silk locks, and the heavy weight of the wall meets your back.

“Right in the corridor?” you hum, panting into his ear. “Where is your decency, Kim Mingyu? Not bringing your lady to the bedroom is-” Mingyu doesn’t let you finish, forcing his leg between yours. He is grinning at you with his bottom lip between his teeth as he guides your hips into motion against his thigh, satisfied with the garbled moan ripped from your throat. Bringing his lips to the side of your neck again, Mingyu plants wet kisses on the soft skin. He licks your ear, gently tugging the lobe between his teeth. When the boy releases the tender flesh, he hisses,

“This… you made me forget about my good manners,” Mingyu drawls and attaches his lips to your throat. His voice is sweet, but the material of his pants is rough and the combination drives you crazy, whimpering into the air between you, your clit aching.

“Please,” you whine, grinding yourself harder against him.

Suddenly, Mingyu smiles, brightly and happy, before his lips press into yours, his tongue mapping your mouth. The boy lifts you up and it gives you an opportunity to kiss his neck in return, biting red marks into his tanned skin. Then, ever so carefully, Mingyu places you on the soft surface of the bed, kissing you passionately, but slower, trying to find out what you like the most.

“Can I take your clothes off, please?” he whispers in your mouth and you moan, your hands gripping into his biceps.

“Good manners are back,” you coo. “Go ahead.”

Mingyu helps you to sit up, undoing the upper buttons of your summer dress, kissing the skin it exposes, and finally pulling it over your head.

“Don’t forget to take the rest off too,” you breathe, and his lips stretch into a smile. His arms twist behind your back and then he is sliding the fabric down your arms and tossing it away.

“Do you want me to touch you, princess?” Mingyu murmurs, the tip of his nose traces the side of your neck as his fingers are ghosting over the wetness of your panties.

“Like you don’t know the answer already,” you hiss and he chuckles, his hands move to palm your breasts. You bite your lower lip when he rolls your nipple between his fingers before slowly circling it, a blush slowly creeps down your neck. His mouth finally covers your nipple as his warm palms are parting your thighs, his fingers firmly pressed against the skin. Without being told, you rise your hips to help him remove your soaked panties.

Mingyu sits back on his haunches and marvel at your spread thighs and the pretty wet curves, and your legs separate to make room for him beyond your control.

“You’re so pretty,” he admires, his eyes – glassy with desire and adoration – don’t leave your face. His palm slides up from your hip over your stomach and further still, gently cupping your breast.

“Gyu,” you plea, but before you can even think about the words, Mingyu tosses his shirt somewhere behind his back, already yanked his slightly ruined with your wetness pants and the underwear to the floor.

Then, he is putting his fore and middle fingers into his mouth, coating them in saliva before slowly bringing them to your pussy, the pads of his fingers ghosting over your slit. You moan and he takes it as an invitation, drawing a circle around the hood of your clit. Craving for more, you shamelessly grind your hips into his palm, your fingers grasping at the sheets.

“Baby, I want to taste you so bad,” Mingyu purrs, thrusting his fingers into your pussy down to the knuckles. You moan at the sensation of his fingertips dragging against your pulsing walls, and he increases the pace of his digits inside of you. “You smell so good.”

His words only sending you near delirious. But his tongue feels even better.

Mingyu runs the flat of his tongue up to your clit, humming happily at the moan escaped through your red and swollen lips, your fingers tangled in his hair. His grip on your thighs is firm, screaming lust in big neon letters. He sucks on your clit, focusing his hot mouth on the swollen bundle of nerves, as he is pulling and pushing his fingers through your entrance.

The boy groans deeply, nuzzling his pretty face deeper into your core. The delightful pleasure clings to your stomach, swells at you abdomen. Your eyes screw shut and your chest heaves, the back arching off the bed with a high-pitched cry. Mingyu is leaning over your, adjusting his body on his elbows supporting him either side of your body. His breath is tickling the skin of your neck and you giggle, your hand lazily draws some patterns onto his back. The boy silently observes your features while you reach down to his cock, lubricating it with his pre-cum. Mingyu groans, but you swallow the sound with your mouth, your tongue catching on flesh of his mouth that tastes like you. He is desperately grinding against your stomach, the tip of his dick leaving a wet trail over your skin.

“I love you,” he says against your lips and, slowly and carefully, positions the reddened head to your entrance. You wrap your legs around him, heels pressing into the ample swells of his ass as Mingyu buries himself deep inside you. He presses his teeth on your collarbone as he hitting your sweet spot with every single one of his delicious thrusts.

Mingyu is here – his arms caging your face, his mouth never leaves yours, and his chest is pressed tight against yours – Mingyu is here and you love each other.

He rolls his hips against you, sinking his cock into your heat, his fingers toying with your sensitive clit. Suddenly, he speeds up, pulling an extremely loud moan from you. Feeling you clench around him, Mingyu groans and lowers himself to suck on your nipple, muffling the sounds he makes against your skin.

“Let it go,” he pants out and you oblige, a gasp tumbles from your lips as your fingers curling in his hair. Your walls spasm around his cock, enveloping it with your release. He thrusts in you, his cock twitching inside of you before he lets out a drawn moan. He stills in you as his cock milking your pussy, panting loudly. He opens his dark eyes and his face softens for you as he places a gentle kiss on the side of your jaw.

“We weren’t meant for each other,” you whisper, your hand playing with his damp locks. “But I love you more than anything.”

“We are meant for each other,” Mingyu is persistent. “Since our first meeting.”

“Okay,” you give in.

“I win,” his smile is radiant in the night, and his eyes hold the whole universe in them.

You never thought of you as a rule breaker. No one did.

With each day Mingyu helps you realize you shape the universe you live in.

And you ask him to make your nose look smaller at the portrait of you he have been painting for two weeks already.

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jungshookz · 4 years

Text

the one where yoongi hates his therapist but kind of likes her receptionist; lveb!verse

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; lveb!universe equal parts emotionally constipated and cheeky yoongi!! the man of our dreams!! i don’t really know what to categorize this drabble as but it’s cute and it’s sfw <3

➺ wordcount: 5k

➺ summary; yoongi hates going to therapy - but you and your dumb little hershey kisses make it a tiny bit better, he supposes.

➺ what to expect; “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?”

➺ optional reading: not necessary but feel free to read la vie en bonsai just to get a feel for what yoongi’s like and why we’re all falling hopelessly in love with him!!

»»————-　♡　————-««

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“uh-huh, yep.” the smile on yoongi’s face drops as soon as he shuts the door behind him and he immediately rolls his eyes

well

that was an hour and a half of his life that could’ve gone towards something more productive

watching paint dry probably would’ve been more productive than whatever the hell that was

dr. i-don’t-have-chairs-but-i-have-beanbags basically spent the entire session asking him to list out things that he loved which he thought was going to be an easy task because he liked a lot of things!

and everything was easy peasy lemon squeezy until dr. glittery-purple-nameplate pointed out that yoongi kept saying that he ‘liked’ this and he ‘liked’ that and he’d never actually said he ‘loved’ anything once and then she went into the whole ‘why do you think you’re so scared of love?’ thing and his eyes rolled so far back into his skull that he actually saw his pink, wrinkly brain

he knows that she’s just doing her job but he’d really appreciate if one of his sessions with her just consisted of the two of them sitting in silence while scrolling through their phones

he even asked her one time if it’d be alright if they did that just so he could tell his friend (the one that sent him here) that he willingly sat through an entire session of therapy

obviously she said no and yoongi resisted the urge to use that as an excuse to give her 1/5 stars on google reviews (unfortunately the option to give 0 stars isn’t available)

it’s just really hard to believe that dr. are-you-more-comfortable-opening-up-to-my-homemade-handpuppet-rory-the-lion has 5/5 shining gold stars on basically every single one of her google reviews

yoongi should be happy that he’s going to one of the best therapists in the city but he’s noT because: he doesn’t even need therapy!

he doesn’t even know why he’s here!

he shouldn’t be in therapy!

he’s min frickin yoongi!!

what the hell does he need a therapist for??

what the hell does he need therapy for?!

he can literally solve his own problems

if he’s sad he just plays video games all day and also eats an entire pint of ice cream

if he’s mad he just plays violent video games all day and aggressively shoves an entire pint of ice cream into his mouth

he’s spent his entire life coming up with different coping mechanisms for himself and he thinks that he has a pretty good grip on his emotions

the only one that he’s a little iffy about is obviously <3 love <3 but-

that’s not a big deal, is it?

yes, technically speaking, he’s “emotionally unavailable” or whatever, but he really doesn’t know why that’s such an issue

yes, the thought of committing to someone in a long-term relationship and the thought of saying “i love you” to someone makes him want to rip his skin off but again, he really doesn’t know why that’s such a big iSSUE

besides

emotional unavailability is sexy

whenever he tells someone that he’s incapable of loving and the sex we’re going to have in three seconds will be animalistic and primal and will also mean nothing to me whatsoever their underwear basically flies off their legs and out the window

so, again: what! is! the! big! problem!

the only reason why he’s here is because, as mentioned earlier, one of his friends set up an appointment for him because god knows he’s not here of his own accord

(also, she did it without asking him first, so he’s still a little upset with her, but she made him a whole batch of brownies as a form of an apology so now he’s a little less upset with her. just a little, though.)

he knows she means well and only wants the best for him but he’s starting to think that maybe she sent him here to torture him and not to help him

his original plan was to go for like one or two sessions and then end it there buT there’s just a teeny little detail he has yet to mention

there is one (1) thing that keeps him coming back every week

he’d even go as far as to say that this thing is the only thing that motivates him to continue to waste his hard-earned money on these weekly appointments

and that thing is-

“yoongi!” your eyes light up and yoongi can’t help but smile at how excited you are to see him even though you literally saw him when he was checking in an hour and a half ago, “how was your session?”

“it was-”

“oh, wait!” you gasp before pressing a finger up against your lips, “i don’t know if i’m legally allowed to ask you that. pretend i didn’t said anything.”

“my session was fine-” yoongi ignores you as he folds his arms up on the counter and leans forward, “i’m still dead on the inside and the concept of love remains ever so terrifying, so… yeah! everything’s pretty much the same.”

“ah, yes.” you lean forward as well, “that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.”

“oh yeah?” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk, “you like a man who’s unable to form emotional bonds with people, baby?” he asks in a particularly sultry tone and you grin in response

“you gotta stop calling me that before i fully fall in love with you, yoongi-” you sigh dramatically before flittering your lashes at him and yoongi laughs lightly, “well, it is what it is. one day at a time, right?”

“baby steps.” yoongi hums and you nod in agreement before suddenly perking up

“hey- you want a kiss?”

another reason why yoongi enjoys your company is because you keep a little gumball machine on your desk

except you despise gumballs (you told him that on his very first day here when he asked you why there were no gumballs in what was obviously a mini gumball machine) so you filled it up with hershey’s chocolate kisses instead (you change the flavour of them every week! last week they were the milk chocolate almond ones)

“a kiss? from you?” yoongi digs his hands into his pockets, “at least let me put some chapstick on first, darling.”

“you know what i mean, yoongi.” you roll your eyes playfully before plopping the machine down in front of him, “they’re the cookies and creme ones this week!”

"mhm. whatever helps you sleep at night, y/n.”

♡

“see you next week, yoongi!”

“you got it, chief.” yoongi forces a smile before promptly shutting the door behind him

he lets out a huff before shaking his hair out of his eyes

somehow the hour and a half in there felt more like four hours and a half

he kept looking at the clock and whenever he thought that at least a good twenty minutes had gone by, it’d turn out that only like two and a half minutes had gone by!

he feels like maybe once the door is shut that time just ceases to exist

today he was forced to talk about all of the romantic relationships he’s ever had and that’s something that he’s never really discussed with… anyone, really.

not even his closest friends!

yoongi’s had a multitude of flings but he’s been in three serious-ish relationships (yes, he knows that’s a huge surprise) - obviously none of them worked out because he’s now in therapy for his intimacy issues, but still

needless to say, they messed him up pretty bad

see, his problem was (and you probably wouldn’t be able to guess it after looking at him) the fact that he… fell in love too hard and way too fast.

his first one was in high school - he was pretty much ready to marry this girl and even gave her a promise ring to which she freaked out and broke up with him on the spot

(she said she felt that it would be better if they broke up since they were both going off to different universities and long distance relationships were tough)

(on the same day they broke up she immediately changed her facebook status back to single which yoongi thought was a pretty icy thing to do)

his second one was in his first year of university (not very long after the high school breakup because that’s how desperate he was to fall in love again) and he wasn’t super sure if he loved this person or if he just wanted to fill the empty void inside of him bUT after two months of dating yoongi asked them if they wanted to move into the same dorm together for the second semester of first year - they said no.

and then they broke up with him.

and yoongi ended up with a single-person dorm, which was great!

:D because it meant no one could hear him crying himself to sleep at night worrying that he would never find true love and that no one would ever love him :D

and finally, with his last relationship, he told [unnamed person because yoongi would like to keep that private, thank you very much] that he loved them, like, two weeks after they’d started properly dating (they’d known each other for a year before getting together so yoongi didn’t think it was that weird. it’s not that weird, right??)

long story short, they didn’t say it back, and instead responded with: “oh! thank… you?” and that was a pretty devastating (and humiliating) blow for yoongi and it was after that breakup that he decided that things just had to change

he couldn’t be this person for the rest of his life!

this pathetic wimpy shrimPY little ‘<3 i love you <3’ weak-ass PUNK

eventually he figured that if he just turned all his emotions off, he wouldn’t run into anymore issues

it’s like that saying mo’ money mo’ problems except in this case it would be less emotions less problems

and he thinks it’s been working out pretty well for him so far!

he’s never gotten attached to any of his one-night stands (although he can’t say the same for them, because c’mon - he’s an absolute catch)

and he kind of takes pleasure knowing that they want to have something more with him when he doesn’t want anything at all

he likes playing with feelings

it’s like dangling a piece of candy over a little baby

it’s fun!

…does that make him a twisted individual?

is he going to go to hell for being a little emotionally manipulative?

also he always finds himself snickering whenever one of his friends started talking about how much they love (gags) their significant others

even the one who sent him here - she just started dating someone in her apartment building - is fully in love with her significant other (he might even go as far to say it was love at first sight for the both of them (double gag)) and sometimes yoongi has to shove a croissant into her mouth just to get her to stop blabbing about how fond she is of her boyfriend

after all this time, yoongi has finally figured out that love is merely a concept

it’s not real!

it’s an idea.

love is not real.

so, again - yoongi genuinely doesn’t see the issue with being emotionally unavailable.

this isn’t just him being stubborn or anything - he literally cannot come up with one single reason as to why being emotionally constipated is such a bad thing

real life constipation is pretty bad but emotional constipation is totally fine!

emotions make everything that much more difficult and he doesn’t have the time nor the energy to deal with it

being emotionally unavailable makes life easy, breezy AND beautiful!

...

of course, there is the one slight issue that sometimes pops into his mind

is he okay with being like this for the rest of his life?

because if he is, he’s… literally going to die alone.

sure, his friends will be there (unless they die before him, in which case he’s actually going to be alone), but even yoongi has to admit that platonic companionship and romantic companionship are two entirely different things

is he truly incapable of falling in love with someone?

he... doesn’t like thinking about that

he prefers to keep those gloomy thoughts tucked away in the dusty basement of his brain

he’d much rather think about-

“yoongi!” you greet as enthusiastically as always as yoongi rounds the corner, “have fun today?”

fun?

in therapy?

that’s hilarious.

“fun? oh, yeah.” yoongi snorts as he folds his arms up on the countertop, “i even got to talk to rory today.”

the two of you exchange knowing glances and you snort before quickly reaching up to clap a hand over your mouth

hey!

you’re supposed to be supportive of rory’s role in therapy!

he has a very important job

one might say that his job of providing emotional support is far more important that yours, you measly little receptionist

you make appointments all day but rory saves lives

“well, i’m… glad that rory is helping you during these trying times.” you clear your throat as you straighten up in your seat

if you get caught making fun of rory you’re dead meat

“mhm.” yoongi nods before leaning over a little, “now gimme a kiss, babe.”

your heart skips a beat in your chest and you can’t help but grin when yoongi turns his head and points to his cheek, “well?”

“milk chocolate caramel this week, babe.” you hum as you place the little gumball machine in front of him

“ooh, yummy-“ yoongi’s eyes widen in excitement as he cranks the metal knob, “so, you got any plans tonight?”

a single kiss plops out and he opens up the little metal flap to take it out

“eh, i mean i guess i do?” you shift in your seat before shrugging, “sort of.”

yoongi raises a brow as he unwraps the tin foil, “what’s that supposed to mean? you got a hot date or something?”

“...yep!”

wait what

yoongi pauses right as he’s about to pop the chocolate into his mouth

because he was… just kidding about that

that was supposed to be a joke

“oh!” yoongi clears his throat, “well, who- who are you… who are you going out with? tell me about them.”

“oh, you don’t wanna-” you shake your head, “the details are boring, i promise it’s nothing to geek out over-”

“no, c’mon! tell me.” yoongi shoves the wrapping into his mouth as the chocolate melts over his tongue, “give me the deets.”

“alright, well…” you reach up to push your glasses up, “i actually met him at the club that he works at! he’s a bartender. we’ve gone out on a couple of dates and he’s really nice! he’s super nice, i just- i don’t know. i guess i just- there’s not much of a spark, you know? he’s taken me out four times and he kissed me on the last one and it was nice but… i don’t know. i’m not sure i even know where i’m going with this story- b-but he’s nice!”

yoongi nods slowly as he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek

well

good for you!

whatever

you’re going on a date and it’s whatever

it’s not like he cares

because if he cared it would imply that he has feelings for you

and in case it wasn’t already clear, yoongi is incapable of having any feelings at all because that’s just who he is

he’s spent years building his status as an emotionless android and he’s not going to let a stinky girl like you ruin it (you are not stinky. you smell like pears and it’s very pleasing to his nostrils. and he hates that he spent thirty minutes at the drugstore sniffing multiple shampoos until he found the one that he’s pretty sure is the one you use. and now his pillows smell like you.)

“nice, nice…” yoongi mutters under his breath, “anyways, i should, um, probably go! i’m like, two minutes away from getting a parking ticket-” he laughs nervously before reaching up to scratch the back of his head

“oh! okay, yeah-” you take the gumball machine down and set it back down next to your monitor, “are you- is everything okay?”

yoongi’s no longer looking at you and you’re usually the first one to break eye contact so this is… odd

“yeah, i just- i remembered i had a thing, so-” yoongi coughs into his fist, “yeah, i gotta go.”

“should i- should i put you down for next week, or-” you get up from your seat quickly when yoongi basically sprints towards the elevators

“yeah!” he flicks his wrist at you, “um, yeah- go for it. i’m just gonna-”

ding!

the elevator doors slide open and yoongi rushes in at the speed of light

“s-same time, or-”

the door glide shut before you get a chance to finish asking your question and you can’t help but feel a little… rejected?

even though you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re being rejected by

that was weird

that was weird, right?

it’s not just your imagination?

you frown to yourself as you plop back down on your squeaky chair

maybe your chocolates tasted funky or something?

you unwrap one for yourself before popping it into your mouth

…

no, the chocolates are fine!

what went wrong?

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you quickly go through what just happened

everything was fine

everything was normal up until the point you said you were going out on a date…

oOh, maybe you shouldn’t have brought up dates or anything like that

you don’t know too much about yoongi’s sessions besides the fact that he has intimacy issues but maybe the subject of dating was triggering for him?

damnit

you idiot!

this is why you could never be a therapist because you’d probably end up traumatizing your patients instead of helping them

you should’ve just told yoongi that your plans tonight involved NO dating and it was just going to be you going to town on a pizza at home

it’s too bad

you were kind of hoping the reason why he started acting so weirdly was because he didn’t want you to go out on a date

here’s the thing:

you… you sort of… have a little crush on yoongi. at least, you think you do.

you can’t help it!

he’s surprisingly very sweet and he has that boyish charm that you’re really into anD he’s also super goofy AND hello!!!! even when you’re not wearing your glasses you can see that he’s really attractive!!!

sometimes you find yourself daydreaming about that smirk of his

it just makes you feel tingly

...

what were you talking about again?

right!

you’re pretty sure the two of you use the same shampoo and you don’t want to be that person but...

match made in heaven?

you’d like to think so.

you just don’t want to ruin this super fun and bantery and also kind of flirty relationship you have with him (though, now that you’re thinking about it, you can’t help but wonder if it’s actual flirting or if yoongi’s just doing his thing) and you knoW he’s definitely going to freak out if you’re suddenly like hey,.,. do u,.,. maybe wanna go out on a date or something.,,. because i think i have a teeny crush on you because even though you’re dead on the inside you are OBSCENELY charming and witty and attractive and everything i want in a significant other,.,.

yoongi would run for the hills if he ever found out you felt that way about him!

“good going, y/n.” you grumble to yourself as you lean back against your chair

well

you can worry about your yoongi-related issues later

you have a date with a cute bartender to get to

a cute, very nice bartender

♡

yoongi’s jealous.

at least, he thinks he’s jealous

this is weird, right?

because yoongi doesn’t get jealous!

he doesn’t get jealous over anything so whY does he not like the idea of you going out with someone who isn’t him?

yoongi squeezes his fingers tighter around his steering wheel as he stares ahead with knitted brows

he left the office like half an hour ago and now he’s just been sitting in his car in silence

and before you ask, yes, there was a parking ticket tucked behind his windshield wiper when he came down here

“jealous, jealous…” yoongi mutters to himself before shaking his head and letting out a huff, “no. i’m not jealous. i’m not!”

he’s not jealous because he doesn’t like you!

he doesn’t!

he likes flirting with you, it doesn’t mean that he likes you

of course, if he didn’t like you… he wouldn’t be grinning like an idiot every time you greet him

if he didn’t like you, he would’ve called you out on your lame ‘you want a kiss?’ joke a long, lonG time ago - instead he just lets you keep saying it because he knows you like making the same joke over and over again

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be coming back to therapy every week, for crying out loud

if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have bought pear-scented shampoo for himself

he should be buying manly shampoos!

like… winter breeze!

or… musky oak??

or diRTy monster truck??!? (he’s not sure if that’s an actual shampoo scent for men, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was)

you know, those kinds of scents!

not frickin pear

yoongi pauses when he realises that he actually doesn’t mind the thought of waking up next to you

he feels his heart skip a beat and he gasps in surprise before quickly slapping his hand up against his chest

oh god

it’s happening!

“…son of a bitch!” yoongi groans as he slams his head back against the headrest, “are you kidding me?!”

he’s feeling!

NO!!!!

that, or he’s having a heart attack

(he’d rather have the heart attack.)

yoongi turns his head right as you exit the building and he doesn’t know where these emotions are coming from but all of a sudden he’s being flooded with what can only be describe as…

pure, blinding rage

“what the hell did you put in those damn chocolates?!” yoongi slams the car door behind him and you practically leap ten feet into the air

“i have no money in my wallet i only have a starbucks gift card and it has like three dollars left on- oh.” you immediately relax when you realize that you’re not about to be robbed

it’s just yoongi

your eyes widen in slight fear when you see him storm his way over to you with his fists clenched at his sides looking like he wants to skin you alive

“you are unbelievable.”

“me??” you shake your head in confusion, “yoongi, what are you-” you pause to glance down at your watch, “why are you still here? you left, like, forty minutes ago-”

“answer the question, y/n!“ yoongi crosses his arms, “you did something to those chocolates! that’s the only reason why i’m feeling like this-”

“what- i don’t- is it your stomach or something?? maybe you’re lactose intolerant-”

“nO, i don’t mean i physically feel something-“ yoongi looks around before leaning in, “i’m feeling something.”

you frown

“yoongi, the chocolates aren’t special chocolates, if that’s what you’re implying. there are kids that come to the office, i can’t go around giving out marijuana infused hershey kisses-”

“i don’t want you to go out with your nice bartender guy!” yoongi blurts out, “because i… i want you to go out with me instead.”

you pull back in surprise before tilting your head curiously

…what?

“what do you- what are- what?” you ask incredulously before narrowing your eyes at him

did he just... ask you out?

yoongi swallows nervously

his pure rage has now been replaced by pure anxiety

“i’m saying that i-” yoongi shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “i’m- i wanna be the one to take you out. o-on a date. or whatever they’re called.”

“you wanna take me out on a date?” you ask dumbly and yoongi rolls his eyes

“a.. i mean i guess it’s technically a da..ate...” yoongi’s mouth goes dry and you can see the panic quickly filling his pretty brown eyes

“we don’t- we don’t have to call it a date!” you perk up, “we can just... we can call it a... flirty hangout!”

“a flirty hangout?”

“a flangout.”

yoongi takes a second to think it over

a flangout

yeah!

he can do a flangout because a flangout is noT a date

“i’m sorry, i just-” you wave a hand in front of yourself, “i thought your whole schtick was that you didn’t believe in dates- flangouts- and ooey-gooey holding hands related situations, so why would you wanna-”

“because i like you!” yoongi groans before looking away from you and running a hand through his hair, “i think? i don’t know, okay? i know that i’m definitely attracted to- i just- you make me- i like talking to you after my sessions are over, and i like that you keep a gumball machine on your desk even though it still doesn’t make sense to me that you’ve filled it with kisses and not with actual gumballs, and i like that even though you know i, professionally speaking, have very intense intimacy issues, i-i like that you don’t judge me for it...” he trails off before letting out a breath and turning back to face you, “you can say no, obviously, but… i just think you’re really pretty and i think you know exactly what you’re doing whenever you ask me if i want a kiss.”

you blink owlishly at yoongi and he immediately feels like he’s about to projectile vomit everywhere

see??

this is exactly what he means when he says that feelings make literally everything ten times more complicated

he just told you that he likes you and now he just made things awkward!

which means noW he has to go find a new therapist-

wait, no

nope! he’s not going to find another therapist - he’s just going to noT go to therapy

why?

because min frickin’ yoongi doesn’t need therapy-

“i do.” yoongi looks at you with wide eyes when you suddenly speak up

you do

did… did he PROPOSE to you?!

great!!

of course he did!!

his feelings are back and they’re even worse than before-

“i do know exactly what i’m doing whenever i ask you if you wanna kiss-“ you hold up a finger to correct yourself, “if you want a kiss.”

“i’m happy with either one of those options-“

“there is one minor issue, though.” you turn your phone around to show yoongi, “what am i supposed to tell sweet tae?”

“who the hell is tae- ohhhh, bartender guy.” yoongi winces as he glances at your texts briefly, “i forgot about him.”

“nice bartender guy!!” you push your bottom lip out in a pout as you scroll through your texts with taehyung

:-(

his last message to you was ‘excited for tonight!! see you soon :-)’

:-(((((((

“do you… do you genuinely like him?” yoongi asks cautiously

“i mean, i- i don’t noT like him, you know?” you sigh and reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “it’s just that… he’s so nice-”

“okay, i think we’ve got that part covered-”

“i don’t wanna break his heart!!” you whine, “what do i do?!”

“alright, here’s what you’re going to do-” yoongi clears his throat, “you go out with him tonight-”

“but i don’t want to lead him o-”

“you go out with nice bartender tae tonight to tell him that it’s over. and you tell him that you’ve really enjoying spending time with him, but you feel like the two of you would be better off as friends. it’s simple, it’s clean, it’s straight to the point! no harm, no foul.” yoongi dusts his hands off before smiling proudly, “and then i’ll take you to the mcdonalds drive-thru for dessert.”

“i mean, i guess so…” you purse your lips in thought, “should i, like… if he kisses me or something, should i kiss him back?”

“you’re going to pity-kiss him?” yoongi gasps dramatically before tutting at you, “wow. and i’m the one in therapy.”

“wha-”

“now, c’mon-” yoongi places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, “let me drive you to your gross date so that we can go on our cool flangout afterwards-”

“you know, they’re doing a limited edition chips ahoy mcflurry right now-“ you grin excitedly as yoongi opens the door for you, “you wanna split one with me?”

“split one?” yoongi scoffs and bends down a little so he can look you directly in the eye, the corner of his mouth curling upwards in a teasing smirk, “baby, i’ll get you your very own mcflurry-”

(it turns out that taehyung actually planned to end things tonight, too - he said if you ever made your way back to his bar he’d give you a cocktail on the house! so, it looks like you can have your cake and eat it too.)

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