#i’m not sure what i’m more fascinated about. the stache or the blonde hair

[gawankeundco]

[excuseme-youpretty]

Bewitched

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk/ Reader

Side Pairings: Kim Namjoon / Kim Seokjin. Min Yoongi / Jung Hoseok. Maybe a little Kim Taehyung / Park Jimin if you squint.

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1937

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Notes: I originally wrote this drabble as a prompt-piece for my sister but I'm actually quite happy with how it turned out. Hopefully I'll only go from strength to strength from here! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Fighting!

Also shout-out to my beautiful fiance @flightysquip and to @youarejesting for giving me the confidence to post this garbage!

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You had never been known as a party person. There was always too much motion, too much chaos, faces all melting together into an arrangement of bubble wrap and hands which would linger for a fraction longer than necessary. Add in a cocktail of flavorless, cheap liquor and the evening is just begging to end in disaster. Not your scene at all.

But Hoseok’s parties always played out a little differently. Realistically, they were just as loud and manic as the swollen gatherings which haunt almost every American sitcom as soon as the designated parental figure disappears for the night, Hobi wasn’t exactly known for his zen energy, but there’s just something about your best friend’s organized gatherings which leaves you feeling safe and adequately monitored.

And, of course, the mention of a Halloween Party in the dorms heavily implied that a certain golden maknae would be there, too. So that certainly helped to exacerbate your enthusiasm.

“Ah, there she is!” Hobi exclaims as soon as he sees your silhouette hovering around the entryway to his dorm, the spare key he had given you dangling limply between your knuckles. 

He bounces merrily on the spot, his fingers wrapping comfortably around your wrist to usher you further into his home. The party is already in full-swing, absolutely packed full of faces you don’t recognize, and you find yourself nervously scanning the crowd in search of Hobi’s friendly roommates just to be tethered to something - someone - recognizable. 

“Everybody, this is my best friend!” Hobi beams, his voice somehow dancing several octaves above the music. He’s clearly tipsy, his lightweightedness a common topic of discussion around your small friend group, his hands gathering yours where they smooth down the layered tulle of your skirt to spin you around in a speedy circle. 

As always, Hoseok’s kinetic energy leaves you positively dizzy. You giggle in response to his actions, tumbling onto the nearest couch whilst Hobi nods assertively.

“You need a drink.” He states, firmly, already turning to fetch you a beverage before you can argue further. 

You tip your head backwards to rest against the back of the couch, being mindful of the pointed black hat perched atop your head. Instantly, your features light up as you take in the sight of a glossy eyed Jin perching cross-legged beside you. He smiles against the rim of his soju bottle, taking in the full extent of your costume and nods appreciatively. 

“I love the costume. It’s very you.” He teases with a wink.

“Thank you.” You guide your eyes over his designated garb for the evening, from the crisp white of his dress shirt to his perfectly pressed slacks and the pristine apron draped over his torso. “A chef? That’s hardly much of a stretch, Jin.”

“I know. I just grabbed what was in my closet already.” His lips split open, eyes creasing up at the corners as his signature squeaky laughter fills the air. 

At that, a passerby pushes his fingertips through Jin’s hair in an affectionate caress. Namjoon stands proudly behind the couch, dressed in an almost identical portrayal of an upstanding barista if it were not for the platinum flash of his hair. 

“Doesn’t he look good, though?” Namjoon announces proudly, dimples thumbed into his cheeks.

“Of course I do! I always look good!”

You just barely catch the sight of Namjoon’s eyes rolling, and the petulant whine which tumbles from his boyfriend’s lips, before you redirect your attention elsewhere. Your eyes gloss over the nameless crowd in search of your best friend, regarding their foreign faces as nothing more than a bag of skittles which has been spilled across the dance floor. 

You hear Hobi before you see him; it appears as though his quest to quench your thirst has been temporarily derailed. He leans back against the refreshments table, his mouth hanging open as an abundance of loud cackling laughter trickles off his tongue. Yoongi is next to him, pressing a plastic stethoscope against the three-dimensional skeletal structure of Hobi’s costume. His lips are pursed in faux concentration, his eyes glittering with intoxication and cheeks as flushed as the punch swirling beside them. 

From a distance you can just barely make out a sharp gasp and the extension of Yoongi’s pointer finger signalling a ‘eureka’ moment. Hobi giggles and Yoongi turns his head sharply, propping himself up on his tiptoes to press an affectionate kiss against Hobi’s temple. 

Behind you, a chorus line of perfectly harmonized chuckles signals your attention. You turn toward Taehyung and Jimin, delighted to see that their soulmate dynamic has been considerably heightened by a pair of brightly colored overalls and heavily stenciled moustaches. Taehyung's raven curls protrude messily from underneath an emerald cap emblazoned with a signature 'L', whilst Jimin's blonde ringlets clash comically with the brunette ‘stache stuck to his upper lip, his own crimson cap decorated with a stencilled 'M'. 

They make quite a picturesque pair, especially with their crinkled eyes and boyish smiles and Taehyung's cellphone held dangerously close to their faces, undoubtedly circling through a collection of comical filters which only elongates their hyperactivity. 

It boosts your morale to see your friends feeling so relaxed, delving headfirst into an enthusiasm for the season with their undeniable commitment and matching costumes; you only wish you had gotten the memo to dress in accordance with another.  Then you wouldn’t feel quite so isolated. 

Not that you have a partner to match with in the first place, of course. 

Before you can become too transfixed by your own contemplative thoughts, the crowd before you suddenly erupts with voluminous applause and infatuated cheers. Their animated bodies part with ease, splitting down the centre as though they were velvet curtains tugging open to reveal an illuminated starlet. 

And when you see Jeongguk's hips swivel in full fluid circle from underneath a heavy Hogwarts cloak, his lips parted and milk-bottle glasses slipping down his nose, you immediately understand the grandiose presentation.

His cheeks are tinted rouge, raven locks plastered across his forehead, and he looks far sweeter than the wrapped candies presented in a large pumpkin bowl for various guests to devour.

He catches the final beat of the song with his pelvis, rolling his body through the rhythm until he settles once again on the flat of his feet. He pauses, sucks in a breath, and despite dressing up as Harry Potter himself the most spellbinding sight is how quickly Jeongguk can transform from verifiable sex god when dancing to picturesque bunny-rabbit with gleaming teeth.

He claps enthusiastically and smooths down the adhesive of his fake lightning-bolt scar before turning on his heels and skipping over toward the refreshments table. He bumps his hip against Hoseok's own, temporarily distracting him from the shape of Yoongi's mouth so that he can pour himself another generous glass of jungle juice.

There's a beat where you can see the three of them whispering among themselves before Yoongi nudges Jeongguk on his shoulder and redirects his attention toward you. 

Jeongguk glances your way, his mouth sticky from syrupy punch and simply hanging open. And it's utterly preposterous how quickly your stomach erupts with butterflies from just a singular glance.

For months now, you and Jeongguk have been toying with the idea of flirtation. Stolen glances which feel like constellations across your skin, his fingertips ribboning between your own and lingering there, the brush of his lips against your cartilage as he inundates you with compliments. 

Every time you are together, it feels as though you are building up toward something more. Something permanent.

And then, just like that, he is detaching himself, dropping you as though you were a sparkler searing through his palm and throwing himself at whichever companion happens to be closer.

You often wondered if the fault lied within you. Signals crossed, perhaps. Maybe you were glancing at your would-be relationship through a magnifying lens. But Jimin had assured you that his attitude was nothing more than Jeongguk's predisposed anxiety; that his actions only indicated a reciprocated fascination. 

You weren't sure what to believe. 

But now he is approaching you, his posture shifting into a serpentine waltz and a determined glint in his eyes which just barely manages to perforate through his cloud of intoxication. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, winks at you with both eyes, and fumbles underneath the layers of his flocked cloak to pull free an elongated wand forged from warbled plastic mahogany. 

You quirk your brow at him, crossing your arms tightly across your chest in an attempt to keep your pendulous heartbeat satiated. You observe him with caution. Although he visually represents a beloved childlike fantasy, his actions are the perfect juxtaposition to his ordinarily reserved demeanor. He exudes confidence, staring you down, and you feel yourself beginning to dissolve around the edges like sugar-syrup across the valley of a hot tongue.

Your own mouth suddenly feels drier than you remember it being not even five minutes ago, your tongue wedged like cotton up against the roof of your mouth. Mentally, you curse Hobi for deeming the flavour of his boyfriend's mouth a priority above your own exacerbating thirst. 

Right now you could really use the sharp spike of questionably-shaped ice cubes against your teeth and the medicinal burn of ethanol caressing your throat. Just to help galvanize your rapidly dissipating nerves. 

"Hey, you~" Jeongguk coos, dragging his scalding hot gaze over the cinched lace contour of your costume. "You look amazing. Absolutely… bewitching."

It's a cliche line, but one which floods your bloodstream with honey nonetheless. Heat stipples across your cheeks in a glow so prominent that even the kaleidoscopic lighting of Hoseok's packed livingroom cannot conceal your flush.

Before you can repay his compliment in kind, Jeongguk is extending his replica wand out toward you once again. He swishes it wildly throughout the air, seemingly without direction, before thrusting it toward your chest.

"Kookie, what're you-"

"Abracadabra!" He grins, an eyebrow hitching high on his forehead. "You're my girlfriend, now. I made it so. No take-backsies."

His words are so utterly ludicrous that you can't help but to giggle. And yet, there is no denying the expansive heat ricocheting deep within the flourish of your soul at such a prospect. The words sound sincere despite Jeongguk's booze-slicked speech. 

Authentic. Final. Real. 

And yet, you can't help but to call his perception into question.

"Are you sure about that, Jeongguk?"

Jeongguk's palms bracket around your pelvis without another word. He tucks the tip of his nose against your own, winding and looping back and forth until you are left completely breathless, starstruck by the devotion of such a simplistic action.

"You're so beautiful." Jeongguk sighs, lifting his fingertips to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

His lips press against yours with such authority that you almost lose your footing entirely. 

If it were not for the rigid proximity of Jeongguk's biceps wrapped securely around your midsection you would have surely tumbled into the persuasive call of gravity. 

But he's here. He's here and his lips move against your own as though he were reciting stanzas of pure poetry against your cupid's bow and you are once again left without a means of oxygen intake. 

But Jeongguk smiles against you, whispers saccharine catcalls of 'my girlfriend!' between kisses and everything falls right into place.

He may be intoxicated enough to put all his faith into a flimsy mass-produced wand but you are absolutely positive that magic was definitely involved in finally - finally - bringing you two together.

Maybe you're a party person after all