#like i’m not opposed to making fake schools/colleges

[lovevalley45]

so i came across that one ice skater/hockey romance that got really big on tiktok while shopping and was lookin at the summary just trying to remember what it’s abt and noticed that it takes place at “university of california, maple hill” which made me n my mom crack up bc. california isn’t exactly known for its maple trees

and then i found out the author is apparently from england and it made it so much better for me, so now im tempted to read it if only to find out what uc maple hill is like

[dylanblack03]

This is an excerpt from Chapter 5.

Lunchtime rolled around and I didn’t have any plans. Hanging around outside the front of the school was as good an idea as any. Not that anybody would come looking for me. My face was stone as I made my way out the doors, ignoring the loud bang that startled my classmates. Annoyance fueled my every move and I could care less about some whiny teenagers too caught up in their own worlds. There were greater things to worry about. My mom’s face flashed in my eyes and anger burned through my blood once more. Our argument still rang through my ears past the music blasting through my headphones. She was always just getting on my ass now that Dick was going off to college. I’m older now, when will I start taking things more seriously? Why couldn’t I just be more like smart, charming, perfect Dick- There was always just more that she wanted from me, I was never just enough! Nothing was ever good enough. He’s not even her bloodchild! Why does she care about him so much over me, her biological child?

An engine rumbled and I was tempted to also ignore it, but goddamn it. One glance up and annoyance flared once more. Chris. Think of one brother, and the other will of course show up. Fucking assholes. A scowl settled on my face, not for the first time. The hell was he doing here? He never came to see me. His fists were clenched and jaw tightened. His eyes were dark with rage. He looked as pissed off as I felt and I welcomed the coming challenge. I could feel my posture straightening as he stalked over to me. Not one to back down, I met him in the middle. We stood face to face, close to the edge of the sidewalk. Silence passed between us and anyone could feel the tension. It was a showdown between two opposing forces, a hurricane and a volcano meeting in an awful display of destruction. The wind of the hurricane brushed against my face. Birds were chirping through the harsh winds, distant and muffled. It was tense and still, like waiting for the pin to drop in the silence.

Chris crossed his arms in front of his chest, not a surrender but a truce. “Hey Vi. How are you?” The rage hadn’t dissipated, I could see it dwelling beneath the surface, but I decided to humour him at his pathetic attempt.

I gave him my fakest, happiest grin. “Oh, I’m great! I’m only moving in with Dad in about two weeks!” My chipperest voice was so fucking fake, it was almost funny. “No biggie or anything though, right?” I wish I could say I was happy to see him but it would be a damn lie. He did nothing wrong, technically, none of this was his fault, but no member of our fucked up family was innocent in this whole mess of a situation.

He hums, eyes narrowing. “I’m pissed that Mom’s making you do that.” Yeah, well you didn’t do anything to stop it, did you? I snarked back in my mind. But I didn’t bother saying that.

“Mom probably thinks that since I only have one more year left, it wouldn’t be worth it to make me move to Nevada with her and John,” The name was poison in my mouth, but I carried on, “Which is, you know, bullshit, but it’s fine. Totally fine.” It was not fine. None of this was fine, but what can I do to change it. Mom’s right, This is my last year but that seemed like decades at this point. I would rather off myself than have to deal with any more of Dad’s obnoxious bullshit. But that wasn’t something Chris would understand. Nobody understands.

Slowly, the hurricane seemed to calm, and Chris’ shoulders relaxed as his arms fell to his sides. A thoughtful expression came across his face, pensieve for only a moment before it broke. The anger was ever-present, it would always be like that for the two of us, but it faded away into the calm before a storm. His brown eyes brightened, and I could see the plan brewing behind his growing smirk. I braced myself for whatever may come out of his mouth.

A light smile played on his lips. “What if you didn’t have to live with Dad? I can move into the house and we can live together. If you’d prefer it.” He said it as though it were easy and simple and not a life-changing sentence.

My breath hitched. He would do that for me? I didn’t even need to think before I reached out. He took the bait and pulled me close, clinging to each other. I pictured it. The two of us together in our childhood home, life being as easy as it once was. Maybe in this fantasy world, I even had friends. I’d invite them over, we’d hang out, they’d see my cool older brother and fawn over him like the best friends in all teen dramas. I’d roll my eyes and they’d giggle, and we’d move on, enjoying our together. It was a nice sentiment… It was an impossible sentiment.

"Please,” I plead with him. “I don’t think I could handle living with Dad again.” Not again, not on my own. Not without someone there to help me. I’m eighteen, damn it, but the prospect reduced me to the little girl being hid away by her big brother in a closet, rocked by herself as she listened to loud voices through the thin walls. God, I hated being like this. I hate being vulnerable, I tried every day to put up a brave face so nobody could fuck with me, but I couldn’t help it. I squeezed tighter, taking in shallow breaths. Chris understood though. I don’t know why I doubted he would, even in my anger. He’s always understood. He was the brother I always could depend on. Even now, he wanted to go out on an impossible limb to convince our mother that he could keep me close and keep me safe.

I felt him nodding, chin bumping against my head. “I’ll need to talk to Mom, and maybe come up with some house rules or whatever. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.” He kissed my head.

I nod in turn, “I’m okay with that.” I’m surprised to say I really was. I trusted Chris more than anyone. Guilt crept in that I was so ready to fight him earlier, but I was more embarrassed than anything. I pulled away, brushing under my eyes, careful not to smudge my eyeliner more than it already was. I ignored his knowing look as I blinked away any tears. Hopefully nobody fucking saw that, holy shit. If any of my classmates ever did, I’d murder them on the spot and feed their corpses to the pigs on Elm Street.

I didn’t even realize living with Chris was a possibility. Getting out of living with my dad and not being with my stepfamily either would be more than ideal. I’m sure it will be okay with Mom too. The bitch doesn’t give a fuck. Plus, she knows he’s responsible, she knows we’re close. I wasn’t as worried about convincing her.

A horn honking from behind Chris caught our attention, high-pitched and squeaky. I peered around him to see a vaguely familiar figure sitting smugly on a motorcycle. He pulled off his helmet to reveal wild, black hair and colorful streaks, snake bites piercing his lip. Was that… Jasper? Jasper had been one of Chris’ best friends when we were growing up, I hadn’t realized the two were still friends. His style had changed though. Throughout their high school years, Jasper had transitioned from being a little more my style to a little more Chris’. It was nice to see he finally went back to his roots. I grinned a little, watching as he swung his legs off the motorcycle and bounded towards us.

“You remember Jasper, right?” Chris patted his friend’s back harshly, causing the other to stumble. “I know it’s been a while but he insisted on coming with.”

“How could I forget that iconic emo hair?” I teased, feeling far more amicable than I have in a while. Chris was right, it had been a while since I’d seen him. I didn’t expect him to be this attractive still. The more punk style definitely fit him far more than Chris’ weirdly preppy one did, what with his dark hair and pretty green eyes. Chris caught my eye with a look, and I ducked my head.

Jasper sighs dramatically, “I didn’t think that would be all you remember me from.” His hair flopped in his face and ruined the moment for him, but he didn’t seem bothered.

I smirk goodnaturedly back at him. “Of course that’s all I remember, it was your signature look.”

“I thought I’d finally convinced him to move on from his dreams of kissing Frank Iero but alas,” Chris swept his head to the side, hand daintily resting on his forehead. “Success was not made for me in this battle.” Jasper’s grin was as energetic yet mischievous as it had always been and I felt a little giddy feeling creeping up in my chest as the two continued to bicker back and forth.

“Excuse you, who wouldn’t want to kiss that man? He’s hot as fuck and he plays guitar!”

“Those are very low standards.”

“This is why you don’t have a girlfriend. Your standards are too high. Pick a talent and fall in love with literally anyone who has it like the rest of us basic bitches.”

“God no.”

“Why, is Jasper not good enough for you then?” I interject, watching as Jasper lit up at the comment and Chris turned red. “Just because he can’t keep high grades and not talk about Sleeping with Sirens every five minutes? Can he not receive well enough for you?” I ignored Jasper’s indignant little ‘Hey!’ in favor of watching my brother flounder to find a response. It was very reminiscent of the times after one of Chris’ football games in which we teamed up to absolutely embarrass the shit out of him for ogling the other team.

“Keep your damn mouth shut,” He hissed, face as red as a tomato. We laughed our asses off as he turned away, stomping off the to the car. “I’m going back to the car! Lemme know when you’re ready to leave, Jasper.”

The laughter died off and suddenly it was just Jasper and I standing side by side. It wasn’t an awkward silence, perfectly comfortable, but words didn’t seem like enough. I had an inkling Jasper followed after Chris for a reason, probably to keep him in check. Chris was outwardly the perfect student and role model for many people who knew him; he’d been well-liked, popular, and very nearly the valedictorian. But his anger, when left unchecked, was explosive. It was a family trait, I guess. I was very easily reminded of the anger that was coursing through my veins earlier. Our rage was a quick hellfire bent on the destruction of everything in our paths. Chris and I were no exceptions. Now, though it lingered in the back of my mind, I was content enough to relish in the presence of two people I had depended on throughout my harsh childhood.

“He cares about you, you know,” Jasper breached the quiet. I turned to see his green eyes trained on my brother’s retreating back. He seemed happy too and I was glad. “A lot.”

“I know.” I did. It was a nice feeling to know at least somebody cared for me.

“If you need anything, Vi, we’ll be here for you. Both of us.”

“I know,” I repeated. I could hear the sincerity in his voice. It erased doubts I didn’t have. It erased any lingering thoughts that I would be alone come near the future, surrounded by demons lurking in my head and in my house. No mother having impossible expectations, no dad to terrify me. It was just me and Chris, and now Jasper, I suppose. Oddly enough, I was fine with that too.

Jasper hugged me one last time, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head, before following after Chris and I listened to the echoes of their laughter as they both readied their leave. They waved in unison at me, starting up their vehicles. The bell rang just in time. I watch fondly as they disappear into the distance before I make my way back inside. I grinned to myself, my anger dispelled.

[cupcakenightbear]

I’m in college now but I still think about the kid that bullied me from grades 1-6 and bullied countless other people in middle and high school.  During grade school, I hated him.  Did whatever I could to avoid him and yet we were always placed next to each other so he often turned to me for whenever he wanted amusement.  The times I told an adult did nothing.  The times I told other students did nothing.  They always used the excuse of well what his dad did to him was pretty bad.  He’s just getting his confusing emotions out.  I’ll be honest, I don’t know what his dad did.  Apparently everyone knew but I didn’t and at the time and even now, I still don’t want to.  I don’t believe that just because someone hurt you, you can turn around and hurt someone else and be excused for hurting the other person.  It’s one thing to yell and cry because of something and it’s another to go out of your way to make another person cry and run away from you while you follow throwing rocks and lemons at them.  This kid was one of the loud trump supporters in school and took whatever chance he could to demonstrate just how he felt about poc and queer people.

I just woke up from a dream I had about him.  We met again on a playground.  The sun panels my school district had put in were above us, offering us cool shade as opposed to the warmth the sun was giving us.  I remember standing and looking at him in the sun while he stood and looked at me in the shade.  I don’t remember what I was wearing, only what he wore.  It was skin tight blue jeans and a messy crochet shirt.  His hair was still the same style he’s had since 1st grade.  The same almost shaved style but enough hair to cover his head and protect his skin from the sun, if he were to step out of from the shade.  I had recgonized him immeditaly and felt the hair on the back on my neck stand up.  He said Hi, you’re [my name] right?  It’s been a couple of years.  I nodded and tried to leave but what he said next stopped me.  He said I’m sorry.  He’s has never once said i’m sorry to me.  No teacher was able to get him to say those words to me, whether the words were fake or real, he never spoke them.  I contunied staring at him while he contunied speaking. He looked down at himself. ‘I’m not really like how I used to be.  I’ve been trying out crochet.  I’m not good at it right now but I really enjoy it’.  The needles for it appeared in his hand and at the end is attached to what seems to be the making of a scarf.  I looked closer at his shirt.  It’s not very tight, the holes are largeer than they should for crochet, but overall holds the shape it should to make a shirt.  I noticed that most of the shirt was white while on the collar was blue and pink.  I remember saying I like the colors you used.  He smiled and began gushing about the process of picking the colors and making his shirt.  As I’m writing this, the dream is fading so excuse me if I leave out some details.  There’s one detail that’s currently reaching through the fade.  It was his body language.  He was smiling, a genuine wide smile and he looked lighter as well.  Like the more he talked, the more the shade from overhead pulled back and the sun swam in surrounding him.  I remember talking about queer things with him and rather than be meant with a scowl, he nodded in agreement and responded with a funny joke.  I remember laughing. 

The rest of the dream is escaping me now.  I hope one day I’ll think back to this dream when I inevitably think about my memories of him.  I still don’t like him at all and will most likely avoid him in real life.  I don’t know if he got covid and passed away.  I don’t know if he moved away or enlisted and is in boot camp right now.  I don’t think I’m going to try and reach out and find out what happening to him within the past three years.  But it felt nice for a few fleeting moments in the passing night, to hear i’m sorry from him.  As well to see the rigidness in his shoulders wasn’t there anymore and that he’s learning new things that make him smile.  I guess, I’m content to move on from the what ifs of what type of relationship I could’ve had with someone else

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin��s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[1kook]

commercial break; SEVEN

this is part of my netflix & chill series ! happens a few months before part 7 

summary; And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan.  warnings; horny jk, jk wants to roleplay... everyone point n laugh, mentions of his impreg kink lol, making out, tits, honestly jk is just very horny n in love lol, jk in a vampire costume w fangs O_o rating; mature (18+) wc; 2k

notes; if u don’t know who lindsay is first of all ur sick, second of all here’s my queen’s top moments. also i just gotta say, this was originally gonna be a larger fic (a halloween special) for my ncouple, but i got a lil busy with school n ultimately didn't have time to invest in this as a whole installment so..... enjoy this commercial break instead!!

Jungkook loves Halloween.

He loves the pumpkin carving and the decorating. Loves the spooky music and the abundance of candy. He loves it, absolutely adores it, and for the second year in a row, he gets to spend it with you! Yet another person he loves very much.

He doesn’t remember ever being this excited for Halloween. Last year, you had roped him into going to some frat party with him, had egged him on, begged so cutely that it was your last year in college, baby until he caved. The two of you had spent the night drinking until you blacked out, Ubering home with your costumes half on, and then unceremoniously fucking in his living room with the blinds wide open.

(The next neighborhood meeting had been very awkward for Jungkook.)

It was his first time ever drinking with you like that, and he vaguely remembers, through his own drunken gaze, how cool you had been. Had absolutely owned a bunch of greasy football players at beer pong in your little sexy nurse costume. And when the crowd cheered your name, shrieked in awe, it had been him that you turned to for praise. “Did you see me, baby,” you had giggled, crowded him against the wall of this random house until Jungkook was sweating profusely. In lieu of a costume, he had worn a silly jogger set with a skeleton design that was supposed to glow in the dark, according to Amazon. You had told him he looked adorable, had kissed and squeezed his cheeks until Jungkook was a flustered mess.

It was still early into your relationship— if Jungkook did the math, you were only about five months in at that point —so he didn’t know how else to cope with the rapid thundering of his heart, the confession sitting on his tongue, the then scary L-word begging to be heard. So, he took you home and fucked you until your little nurse cap slid off your head and you were begging for him to let you cum, thus earning him his first ever offense for violating the neighborhood rules (i.e., traumatizing a group of middle schoolers by fucking in plain sight).

Long story short, Jungkook loves Halloween, and he loves it even more when he gets to spend it with you.

(He’ll never admit it, but he’s a hard romantic. He wants to do cheesy things with you, like cuddle you into his arms when you get scared, pat your head until you can look at whatever is happening on screen again. He wants you to feel safe in his arms, wants to be your refuge when things become too much. He likes to think he’s done a pretty good job so far.)

Jungkook’s plan goes like this:

First, welcome you with that Halloween basket you’ve been sending him tweet links about all month. The cute little Jack-O-lantern candy bucket stuffed with candy and hair ties and a soft Halloween themed blanket. It’s so cheesy, makes him blush when he catches sight of it in his closet, but Jungkook will do anything to please you.

Next, after presenting you with your Halloween gift and having you coo and tell him he’s a good boy, he’ll invite you to break your new soft blanket in. The living room will be prepared with an assortment of your favorite foods, the flat screen ready to play whatever horror movie the two of you settle on.

And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare.

It’s a perfect plan.

It’s the best way to spend his favorite holiday, with his favorite girl by his side and some of his favorite horror films on the big screen. Jungkook spends all of October geeked up for it, even considers hanging up lights around the living room to really set the mood. He’s so excited, can’t wait to spend another wonderful holiday at home with you, that he doesn’t fully realize why you haven’t brought up the long awaited topic of costumes.

“You like?” you ask, standing at the door of his bathroom with a sultry look in your eye, tits practically pouring out of the tight top you’ve wiggled into, skin oiled up scandalously. He fumbles with the fake vampire fang prosthetics he’d been trying to glue in for the better half of an hour.

He had heard the door open downstairs when you got here, had called out his mandatory greeting as he heard you come up the stairs. But none of that had prepared him for the sight of you in… whatever this was.

Jungkook doesn’t really understand exactly what you’re supposed to be dressed up as until the two of you are back downstairs—blinds drawn, full moon slipping in through the cracks—with some random horror movie pulled up on the TV. “I’m Lindsey,” you whine, brand new fluffy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It shields your boobs from view, but he’s not sure if that’s a win or a loss. “From Total Drama Island!”

He settles in beside you, doesn’t get too comfortable because it’s nearing sundown now and he knows the herds of children are bound to start flowing in. “Uh huh,” he says mindlessly. His collar feels itchy, the overly-detailed vampire costume he meticulously scoured the internet for being one size too small. You snuggle into his side anyway.

“You don’t know anything about cinematic masterpieces,” you frown, avidly tuned into The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, because apparently you love horror movies all of a sudden, a fact that genuinely throws Jungkook off. He’s not sure what it is about you that had deluded him into thinking you would be a scaredy cat, but he doesn’t take the new bit of information too hard.

The doorbell rings right as the first gorey scene ends and you make a big show of huffing and whining as he rushes to answer it. But it’s only the beginning of the long night that awaits, and, as Jungkook comes to find, running back and forth from the door to the couch is harder than it seems.

Anyway, Jungkook’s neighborhood is a little posh, or ‘bougie’ as you like to claim, and trick-or-treating hours end a little before eleven pm. By then he’s tired, having refused your offer to switch places in fear that your boob might fall out of that scrap of fabric you call a top and earn him his second neighborly offense.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to your boobs falling out in private.

“Stupid,” you giggle when he gets caught in his long cape, the sound slowly melting into a whimper as he slips his hands beneath your top, fighting with the ridiculous push-up bra you’ve donned tonight. Hands tangle in his hair, mess up the careful side part he’d styled up for tonight, and legs lock around his waist. “Your curtains closed?” you tease.

He huffs, catches your chatty lips with his roughly, presses and presses until your mouth must bruise. He belatedly remembers about those sharp fangs he’d glued on—hey, if he was going to dress up as some gaudy monster it might as well be realistic—and doesn’t realize until he tries to bite your neck and you let out a little yelp. Truthfully, he feels bad right away, but then you’re practically dissolving in his arms so he plays along. “Shh,” he hisses.

The roar of a chainsaw and terrified screams fill the living room, almost drowning out the soft sounds you release by his ear. “O- Or what?” you pant, flinch when he pushes your sad excuse of a skirt up over your waist. “Gonna b- bite me?”

And so Jungkook does.

You shriek. “That hurts, you idiot!” you scold with a tiny whine in your voice, but Jungkook’s cock is so hard. Your tiny, tight outfit does you no favors. Tits in his face, tiny thong against his bulge. He wants to make you sob, litter bites and marks all over your skin until his love makes you ache. You must see the crazed look in his eyes, because you drop the scowl. “Hey,” you say slowly, hand on his chest. “You look like you’re gonna eat me.”

He lets go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He wonders if you can feel his thundering heart beneath your palm. “Fuck,” he sighs, leaning away to regain his senses. Was it something in the air? Was it the fatigue? The full moon? Why did he want to fold you in half and fuck his cock into you until you were a crying, shivering mess? Something about you tonight, laid out for him to take, makes him feel absolutely insane. Starved and psycho; he just wants to take and take until you don’t have anything more to give. He purses his lips, tries to ignore the hot feeling in his lower abdomen when your hardened nipples register to his eyes. “I think I’m becoming evil.”

Of all the idiotic things his brain can come up with, this one is definitely top five. His cheeks flush right after, fueled by the boisterous laughter that escapes your lips at his statement. “Oh my god,” you gasp in glee, hands falling down beside your head. “You’re becoming evil?’

Jungkook frowns, flopping down on top of you to hide the embarrassment that paints his face. “Shut up,” he mumbles against your neck, warm and safe.

A hand cards through the back of his hair, nails dig lightly into his scalp. “Aren’t you the cutest little vampire,” you coo, seemingly ignoring the rock hard cock Jungkook presses against your thigh. He’s still so horny, has this sick thought that he could just pin you down right here, tear that silly costume to shreds and swallow you up in his lust. But your voice is so sweet, has his eyes fluttering shut as you gather him in his arms. “Silly vampire,” you hum, one leg thrown around his hip, a subtle roll of you hips up into him.

Jungkook huffs, licks a flat strip along the base of your neck. It draws a shaky exhale from you, has your hands digging into his back when he begins to slowly lap against the skin, nibble and tug until your back is deliciously arching up into him. “Wanna push you down,” he confesses quietly, hands securing themselves against your hips as he leans back. You're all dazed, eyes trained on his fanged mouth when he hesitantly adds, “l- little human.”

You could laugh, tease him for his sudden weird need to role play with you, but you don’t. A look of understanding crosses your face, sly smirk slowly following. “Oh?” you grin, hand coming around to cup his cheek. “The little vampire wants to use my body?” Jungkook tightens his jaw at your jab, but nods nonetheless.

You’re a feast before his eyes. Boobs in his face, pussy begging to be filled. You’re his, just like Jungkook is yours. And when you indulge him and his stupid whims—kinks, he should say, occasional interests that sometimes make him question himself—his heart feels warm and full. Proud and unashamed, like the truest version of himself when you look at him with those eyes. And your words only confirm it.

Your hands reach down for your top, pull the flimsy material over your head in one swoop that has your bra coming off with it. It drops to the floor. If it makes a sound, Jungkook doesn’t hear it over the shrieks of terror on screen. the blood deaths, the suspenseful music. All he hears is he hammering of his heart. 

It’s two of your sneaky fingers that come up to play, pinch one nipple tenderly as you meet his eyes. “It’s all yours,” you purr. “I’m all yours.”

And the thirst he feels, well. It’s a little vampiric, to say the least. 

—

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

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Lila Rossi: I’d Say She’s a Good Villain, but Then I’d Be Lying (300 Follower Special)

Deception and cunning are easily two of the most important traits an antagonist could have. It shows that even if they don't have the strength to overcome obstacles, their wit is more than enough. This kind of trait is why characters like Lex Luthor, David Xanatos, and Princess Azula are so beloved, simply because of how intelligent they can be as villains and pose a real threat to the heroes.

It's clear that the Miraculous Ladybug writers want Lila to be seen as this, but the writing seriously fails to back that claim up.

Easily one of the most controversial characters in Miraculous Ladybug is Lila, mainly for the writing surrounding her. But there was a time where she was actually more of an ambiguous character, mainly for the lack of screentime she had until Season 3. But unfortunately, the more appearances she's had have painted a very poor portrait of an antagonist.

Lila's Tragic and Sympathetic Motivation for Hating Ladybug

Lila's first appearance was at the tail end of Season 1, “Volpina”. She was a new transfer student from Italy, and quickly made friends with a lot of her classmates for the lies she told, including being friends with Ladybug (which Alya blindly believed without doing any research like any excellent journalist). But because of how close she was getting to Adrien, Marinette, in a rare act of selfishness, transforms into Ladybug just to chew out Lila for lying about knowing her, humiliating her in front of Adrien. And this is the only motivation we get for what Lila does afterwards.

I'm not saying that it's wrong for Lila to get upset at Ladybug for doing this, and I like the moment of weakness Marinette has, but this is literally the only explanation we get for Lila deciding to side with Hawkmoth, a literal terrorist. As much as I hated the way the arc turned out, I could still understand Chloe siding with Hawkmoth, as it was clear that Hawkmoth was manipulating her and taking advantage of her ego. Lila? Ladybug's mean to her one time, and that inspires her to conspire with a complete stranger who brainwashes people to attack the city, which endangers innocent people and causes God knows how much in collateral damage if not for Miraculous Ladybug fixing everything.

I just don't get how a single negative interaction with someone is enough to conspire with a literal supervillain. Even in Season 3, when Marinette and Lila truly became enemies, it was because she risked exposing all the lies she told, which could damage her reputation. Sure, it's petty, but it makes sense for Lila to want to keep up the illusion. If she was simply an antagonist to Marinette in her civilian life like Chloe was before “Miracle Queen” , I'd be fine with that, but the writers clearly want her to be seen as on the same level of evil as Hawkmoth. I'll get into why that doesn't work later on.

Why Lila is an Excellent Liar

In my Master Fu analysis, I had pointed out that despite all the flaws he had, the narrative insisted on portraying him as an incredibly wise mentor. The same problem applies for Lila as well. We're supposed to see Lila as an expert manipulator and liar, but her lies are insultingly obvious. She always claims to be friends with celebrities and does all these awesome things, and in an age where we can have almost any question answered thanks to the internet, nobody ever stops to question her.

It's even more frustrating when you hear Lila talk about saving Jagged Stone's cat, when Jagged Stone is established to be very fond of Marinette (evidentially more than his own daughter), and nobody ever points that out. I think if Lila's lies were more stories about her travels around the world than outright lies about real people, it could have worked. It'd still be hard to believe, but it's something.

But this is a problem with writing shows aimed at children. As much as we hate writers who need to spell out things to kids, sometimes, they just don't understand some of the media they consume. Seriously, I never got this joke in SpongeBob as a kid, and I can't believe Nickelodeon actually approved this.

So the dilemma when writing a show with children in mind is finding that sweet spot between assuming your audience can figure it out, but not being too vague in your details. It's even harder when you need to find a way to convey the fact that someone is lying without being too obvious. Unfortunately, the show clearly fails to do that

Okay, this is going to sound like an incredibly weird thing to cite, and I only know about it because I used to know someone who was a huge fan of the franchise, but the movie Monster High: Friday Night Frights does a better job of subtly explaining to the audience that a character is lying. Please, just hear me out.

The movie follows the main characters competing in their high school's roller derby for the season after everyone on the usual team gets injured, and the championship match is against another school whose team tends to cheat to win matches. How they manage to do this without getting caught is anyone's guess. While the main characters are practicing, their coach, Clawd, notices a spy for the enemy team taking video of them to study their moves. In response, he calls over one of the athletes, Operetta, to chew her out for her showboating attitude. In reality, he's alerting her to the spy. Only using facial expressions, he clues her, and by extension, the audience, in on the fact that they know what the opposing team is trying to do.

This soon leads to Operetta pretending to tell the enemy team about their secret plan for the championship match, which was really an attempt to outsmart them to gain the advantage in the final stretch. The brilliance of this is how the audience is informed of this with no dialogue, and there's no scene afterwards spelling it out for those who don't get it. It manages to convey deception without being too obvious that Clawd and Operetta are being deceitful.

I think if there were more subtle hints to show the audience Lila was lying, she would be seen in a better light. As it is, Lila's lies are just pathetic, and it's ridiculous that everyone believes her. Which leads me to...

Lila, the Master Manipulator

I once read a Star Trek: Voyager fanfic that poked fun at the series by claiming that the reason a lot of the dumber episodes like “Threshold” and “Twisted” happened was because one of the crew members was an alien who unintentionally produced mood altering pheromones, with Captain Janeway actually realizing they were all high because of said pheromones, while two of the unaffected crew members were wondering what the hell they were doing before they found out the cause. Why do I bring this up? Sometimes, it feels like Lila is an unintentional parallel to the alien in that story.

Like so many characters, it's clear the show desperately wants the audience to view Lila in a certain way, but her actions do very little to actually back up that claim. When she's not using lies to tell stories about so many famous people she knows like her uncle who works for Nintendo, Lila is using strategies to manipulate everyone that are so obviously deceptive, the Thermians could pick up on them. Everyone and their mother knows how ridiculous a lot of what Lila does in episodes like “Chameleon” and “Ladybug” are, and I've talked about them before, so I'll try to be quick.

First off, as someone who had access to accommodations through high school and has had assistance in college so far, there is no way in hell that Ms. Bustier should take Lila's tinnitus at face value in “Chameleon”. If a student has a disability that could interfere with the education process, physical or developmental, not only does the school have to evaluate their performance, and determine if they're eligible for an Individualized Education Program, or IEP, but her teachers would have to be notified in the first place. As her primary educator, Ms. Bustier would be part of the team to oversee Lila's IEP and determine what accommodations she needs to help her learn better with her tinnitus and arthritis. But because the writers don't know what Google is, they just ignore it,  assume that Lila can just say she has a disability, and have everyone believe it. Even when Eric Cartman pretended to be disabled to compete in the Special Olympics, he put in more effort to look the part, even if he looked like a caricature.

Then there's the fact that that in “Chameleon”, everyone just believes Lila when she says Marinette stole her grandmother's necklace when not only is said necklace from the Agreste line of jewelry, but Alya, who is Rena Rouge, can't pick up on the fact that it's a fake. All she does to justify these lies is come up with a sob story about how nobody believes her, yet nobody ever tries to defend Marinette except Alya one time, and it was after she got expelled.

Or what about in “Oni-Chan”, where Lila thinks having Kagami kill Ladybug while claiming she'll back away from Adrien is a good idea? Let's say Oni-Chan does kill Ladybug or at least take away her Miraculous, what then? We know Lila wouldn't go through with this promise, and as soon as Kagami sees her harassing Adrien, she'll be ripe for akumatization again. Overall, not a great plan.

And yet somehow, this last example is what made her worthy enough to become one of Hawkmoth's most trusted agents. I'm just going to say it: Lila is not a good fit for the power of illusion. Whenever she's Volpina or Chameleon, she always goes out of her way to make a big show instead of being subtle with her deceptions. “Chameleon” is the worst offender, as even though Lila gets the power to shapeshift into someone else, instead of being discreet and cornering people into kissing them and gaining their appearance, she just runs around to get Ladybug's attention instead of being subtle. Even Felix had the bright idea to pretend to be Adrien to catch Ladybug off guard. How do you lose to something that happened in “Felix”?

Despite all of these screw-ups, we're still supposed to see her as this master of deception worthy of allying with Hawkmoth in both his supervillain and civilian form, when really, she's a terrible liar on the schoolyard and on the battlefield.

Why Lila is an Important Character

In the grand scheme of things, Lila just isn't as important of a character that the show loves to parade her around as. She's nothing more than a plot device used to raise the stakes in an episode, given how much reality seems to bend over just to accommodate for her lies. Even when the show alludes to her being part of bigger things, like her deal with Adrien, or her rivalry with Marinette, they don't even go anywhere.

She just feels pointless when you remember Astruc's brilliant idea to force Chloe into being the final Akuma for the season while Lila isn't even mentioned once. She only really makes appearances whenever the writers feel like it, which is why it’s hard to take her seriously. Why should I take this character seriously as a threat if the writers refuse to take her seriously as a threat? Why build Lila up as a big threat and not give her a major role in the finale? Why even include her in the show in the first place when you could show Chloe being more manipulative to fill in the plots Lila plays a big part in?

As of the time I am writing this analysis, four episodes of Season 4 have aired, three of them have been about lies or deception, and Lila hasn't been mentioned at all. It honestly seems like she won't appear unless the writers need a easy way to drive up the conflict, so they can justify it by saying that Lila's “superpower” of lying is more powerful than the common sense of everyone else.

I'm sorry this post was shorter than the last one, but compared to Master Fu, there's not that much to say about Lila that I haven't already said. Even the show barely gives her any attention, so it's hard for me to really find a lot to talk about.

[deity-prompts]

Hi, how has your day been so far? If you haven't already, could you perhaps please write some enemies-to-lovers prompts?

Hello! My day’s been good. I’ll never turn down an offer to make enemies to lovers prompts

Enemies To Lovers OTP Prompts

Prompts

A and B were on rival sports teams in high school and despise each other. They both end up in the same college and on the same sports team. Cue competing for team captain, conflicting over strategies and reluctantly bonding as they become team mates.

A and B were childhood best friends who had an ugly falling out. Years later, they still despise each other but they don’t really remember what fight caused them to hate each other.

A and B are on opposing teams (academic teams / sports teams / any other kind of team you want) and are rivals. Little do they know, they anonymously talk to each other online where they vent about the stress of being on such a high-demanding team.

A and B’s siblings are getting married, meaning that A and B have to spend a lot of time together as they help plan the wedding and prepare their sibling for their big day. The problem is, A and B can’t stand each other. Have they hated each other since their siblings started dating or did they not meet until the engagement and got off on the wrong foot? That’s up to you.

A and B despised each other in high school. After graduation, they think theyll never see each other again until A is in hospital (for a serious injury / serious illness) and B is their doctor.

Oneliners

“I can’t like them. They’d kill me!”

“Blow me” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Something up with you? I’ve noticed that you haven’t insulted me in a while”

“Did you just . . . defend me?” “I’m the only one who gets to be an asshole to you”

“Do you know what the worst thing about you is? You don’t give a shit about yourself”

“That happened years ago, why do you still care?” “Because it still affects me! What you did still affect me every single fucking day”

“. . . why did you just kiss me?” “Surprised I did it without throwing up, if I’m honest”

“I never realised how much I hurt you”

“For ages, I’ve felt this string feeling towards you. I thought it was hate but I think . . . I think I was wrong”

“I hate you- I want to hate you, but, fuck, I wish I could kiss you right now”

Also see:

Enemies to Lovers while fake dating prompts and oneliners

More enemies to lovers prompts

Enemies to lovers high school prompts and oneliners

Leave requests for other oneliners / prompts!

[adorethedistance]

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

*** 

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner 

[tsunonotarou]

Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...

notes — Bro I fucking THIRST for this man he can rip me open

— Also I think I’m gonna start this series called “Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...” because childhood friends to lovers shit is my kind of shit

— We’re debuting this series with Leona 🥳

BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH...

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— AS A CHILD

He cherishes you a lot even though he might not show it

You’re the first ever person who acknowledges him, first ever person who approached him first and talked to the second son

He thought you were strange at first, because why would you talk to a mere second born when the first is right here with you? So he distances himself and avoided you at first, thinking you have ulterior motives

You got the signs and didn’t pester him after that—which he is glad for—but he find himself secretly looking at you or purposely look for you in the castle whenever you come visit (let’s say you’re a royalty too and your parents’ are good friends)

It was when he saw you sulking and pouting by yourself, he felt bad and maybe, you just wanted to be friends

The servants always prepared your favorite sweets when you come visit but you didn’t want any after realizing that he’s ignoring you

So he took some, went to look for you and threw them at you

“H-Huh?—“ you got startled and quickly looked up, seeing his neutral expression on and looking down on you

“So, your parents bought you that whatever thing you want, and then what?”

The way he remembers your one-sided conversation with him before honestly made you tear up, you didn’t think he was listening

From then on, you were also excited to visit the king’s castle because you get to see him, and you made sure to bring various of things over for him and you to play

There was one time he accidentally overheard some servants of yours “advising” you to stop hanging around with Leona Kingscholar, saying how he isn’t worth your time and shouldn’t be influenced by him

Though he was sure of your loyalty and friendship with him, he still has his doubts, maybe, you secretly dislike him too

He waited for your response, your silence only made him more anxious as time pass by

“...Hey.” He bit the inside of his cheek, awaiting for your answer

“I’m gonna ask my parents to fire you all.”

His eyes were wide as ever, and so were the servants’

“B-But please, Princess/Prince Y/N-“

“I will not tolerate anyone who badmouths my friend, moreover, who do you guys think you are? Telling me who I should be friends with now?”

As much as Leona tries to stop it, his eyes watered, lips quivering at your words

He never told you how he eavesdropped your conversation with those servants, because eventually it’ll lead to how he reacted, and he’s never going to tell you he almost cried

He taught you how to roar once, got super red when he himself haven’t even mastered it yet

Glares at your form rolling on the floor laughing

— AS TEENAGERS

He is two years older than you, so he got enrolled into Night Raven College first, during the times he was at the dorm you were bored to death

One of the main reasons (probably the only reason) why he’d go back home during breaks is because of you, he could care less about the grand welcome back party—which he was sure the servants were forced to put up—and the fake smiles from relatives, but he had to see you

Is always prepared for the uncalled tackle hug from you but somehow you always manage to knock him off balance, causing the two of you to fall down onto the sandy ground

You rambled and rambled, he listened but solely focused on how your features changed, you definitely grew up, got more attractive, too

Oh fuck

He mentally cursed when he finally realizes how his heart is beating in an unusual pace, feeling his cheeks warm up and how he felt like melting right there and then

Buried his feelings deep down because of his insecurities and acted as normal as he could with you after

You have never seen him panicked so much, got so angry and frustrated before, it happened once, when the topic of arranging a marriage for you and his older brother, Farena, was mentioned

He strongly opposes the idea but reminding him that he is only a second son, hence have no say in this matter was enough to shut him down

You tried to go after Leona who stormed to his room but decided you have more important matters at hand, matters that you need to clarify first

Politely declining the marriage and telling how Farena is a good person, but you have eyes for someone else

Everyone in the room (which consisted of both your parents and Farena) knew who you were talking about, and they were shocked, to say the least

You can clearly see the discomfort in yours and his’ parents faces, but you also can clearly see Farena’s secret wink towards you, telling you he approves

You and Farena never had any romantic feelings for each other anyway, and he was always teasing about you and Leona when you two were little

Knocking on Leona’s room softly then creaking it open, you peek your head inside to see him lying on the bed on his side with his back facing you

“Leona.”

“Leona?”

“Leooona.”

“Leeeeeeonaaaaaa.”

“LEONA WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

“FUCK-“

He winces and jolted up after you slapped his arm

Snaps and growls at you, rubbing the spot where you attacked earlier

He was all grumpy and upset until you tell him you rejected the marriage

Stares at you for a good ten seconds before sighing, slowly resting his forehead on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you

You two have had naps together, held hands when you were little but have never been this physically close after you two grew up, you two are the best of friends but there are boundaries as friends, so this was new to you, naturally, your cheeks bursted in all shades of red

“I’m glad...” you can hear him mumble, placing a hand on his soft hair and patting it before give it a stroke, calming him down

— AS STUDENTS IN NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE

You teases him so fucking much about being a dorm leader, like- how??? He’s just so lazy and unmotivated to do anything that you’re impressed

Surprisingly takes very good care of you both as a friend and a senior, it was surprising for the Savanaclaw dorm members to see Leona actually giving fucks about someone, a freshman no less, so they got interested in you very quickly

Which resulted in Leona scaring them away because they’re too close for his liking

He always suggests you to take naps and laze around with him though, so it’s no good since you have to get good grades

You’re the one who’s always dragging him to classes (if you’re lucky to get him to move)

You two never bothered to tell anyone that you’re childhood friends, it didn’t seem to have the need to

So everyone thought you two were dating because of how close you are 💀

Definitely got jealous at how you made new friends

He doesn’t mind if you have new friends, it’s natural, it’s only concerning if you don’t have any

But if you’re spending more time with them than with him? Best know that he’d trap you in his room and never let you go out

This won’t stop until you figure out why he’s like this and promise him he’ll stay as number one in your friendship list

You really shouldn’t be but you’re still laughing at how he’s repeating school years to this day

But you’re also kind of glad that he’s still here with you, it’d be boring if he weren’t

Plus, Leona wouldn’t leave you here alone anyway, there’s too many people he can’t trust and he just generally don’t wanna leave you alone

The confession was surprisingly normal and quick, no stutters or nervous twiddles of fingers from him

He kinda just, got tired of you being so physically close and attached to everyone else that he want to call you his and his only

He’s the type that’d suddenly pin you down on his bed while you’re talking about what you and your other friends did that day

Enjoys the deep blush and lip quiver on you as he finally confesses his feelings for you, leaning down onto your ear and whisper huskily about-

His arms quickly wrapped around his stomach and coughs as your strong kick jerked him back, he ended up kneeling on his bed, hunched over as he groans

He thought he invaded your privacy and made you uncomfortable so he quickly look up to check up on you, afraid of the terrified and disgusted look on your face, but what greeted him was a hot, hot face as you refuse to look him in the eye

He stared, and stared, a small blush slowly coming up to his own cheeks before a pillow was thrown at his face

Seeing you so flustered reminded him of the past few days when he debated with himself whether he should go for it or not, he might seem smug for now, but before this cocky smirk appeared he was a nervous wreck

So the two of you kinda just stayed like that in his room, freezing on your spot with dead silence

“A-At least give me an answer...damn it.” A miracle that he stuttered

He watches as you fiddled with your finger, looking down with mumbles he couldn’t make words out from

“I...I like you too.”

This is so lame, you two are like middle school kids confessing your love for each other and yet, those simple words made his heart flip like crazy

Now that he’s confirmed your answer, prepare for a wild but sweet kiss from him

— AS LOVERS

It was a little bumpy at first, mostly from you though, because you’re just so used to being “just friends” with him that you don’t know how to act as his lover

He didn’t change much, maybe a little bit sweeter and considerate than before but he’s just the old Leona you know, which you’re glad for, you didn’t want him to change

He’s more protective now since you’re finally his, and he made sure to let everyone know that

Doesn’t really have a say on PDA, he’s fine with or without it, but he would definitely shove his tongue into your mouth right on the spot if someone even dare to look at you in the wrong way

Really likes wrapping an arm around your waist and put his whole weight on you because he’s lazy and tired of walking

Will actually fall on you when you’re in the botanical garden so that you couldn’t get up and is forced to take a nap with him

Play with his hair!! He loves it to death, though he might grumble and say he doesn’t, we all know he’s lying

You have to reassure him that he’ll always be your number one, he’s already suffered enough, if you end up leaving him he doesn’t know how to cope with it

Cuddles, cuddles and cuddles 24/7, he will not let you go

He sometimes just stares at you as you talk or do your own thing and think about how lucky he is to have you, it might not seem possible but literal hearts appeared in his eyes

If you ever catch him staring at you and tease him for it he’ll growl and pounce on you, how dare you make fun of your king like that? Prepare for a punishment my friend ;)

[choiwrites]

pjm | high school sweethearts (m.)

Words: 18.4k Genres: high school!au, f2l, never been kissed!au, a lil bit of 2000's movie angst :) Warnings: defloration, fingering, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk, oral (f&m), teenagers being hormonal what else would this be :( Rating: 18+ Playlist:  ♡

Summary: You are not one to believe in high school romance nor any kind of romance at all. Your world is turned upside down when you had to write about falling in love in high school. Having no experience, good thing your best pal Jimin came to the rescue. He's about to show you what falling in love is like through his broken perspective after his girlfriend just broke up with him.

The school cafeteria stretches before you. Chattering getting louder every second as more students join in the next table, your eyes peered at Yoongi, the President of the School Publication, who had just told you the feature's deadline. You were killing him inside your mind, butchering his insides, God you just want him to get kicked out of the school.

Exams are in a week and you did little to no effort in prepping for it, it was driving you nuts. But the cafeteria's coleslaw drove you even madder, its stupid taste lingered in your mouth even after you just took another chug of your second box of milk. You made a note to yourself to never get coleslaw ever again, no matter how convincing Jungkook's smiles were, though there's no denying that the lunch lady's son has somehow crept into your heart.

"Candid!" Jimin appears behind you, his camera flashing your eyes when he takes a candid shot of your face. You slap him on the shoulder before he could sit down beside you. "Do you have a crush on Yoongi?" His eyes scan the unfinished coleslaw on your table, his smile turning into pure disgust.

"What? No! He's just ruining my week," you reply after releasing a huff.

You tear your gaze away from Yoongi before his laughing figure would notice. Jimin giggles at the picture he had just taken. If Jimin didn't have a hundred pictures of your unreserved face, maybe you would have cared. Still, your eyes burned at the sight of your face in his camera.

"What made you sit with me today?" you ask, your eyes not traveling to his face but rather focused on everywhere else except for him and Yoongi.

His breathing was a little ragged, but enough to make your ears notice. He was breathing through his mouth, you could tell. You were that observant of Jimin. Your hand picks up the tiny box of milk, taking another sip from it while you wait for Jimin's answer. He was busy on his camera, then you heard a sniff.

"Seulgi broke up with me," he sniffs again, then he laughs in a croaky way. His voice was usually high, like an optimistic kind. Hearing Jimin's voice always sent you a jolt of happiness, hearing his voice crack made your knees wobble.

You were positive they'll get back together again like the other high school couples, it's their routine that you've gotten used to. It would only take a week before you see them smooching in the locker room again, or maybe eating each other's face in front of you. You wait for an explanation before you could ask, giving him silence so he could proceed with his sentiment.

"She was tired of me. She couldn't see a future with me," he began and forced a small snicker, one you could immediately tell was fake. "I was going to follow her to college. Good thing, I haven't."

You admit, your heart recedes at his tone. Though you've never received such words yourself, being told you're tiring would sure tear anyone's heart apart. And wanting a future with someone with no reciprocation sounded mean. You couldn't search for the right words on how hurt he looked beneath those eyes, you weren't one to have experience in any of the pain he's going through.

You place a hand on his back, a shaky motion vibrated against your palm. You could feel how hard he was trying to suppress all the tears inside him, he was afraid you would laugh. You pat him softly on his cotton jacket, scared to make the situation worse by saying the wrong thing. He took your silence as comfort, needing no words from you to make him feel better. He sniffs again.

"What was she tired of?" Jimin knew that asking you wouldn't bring actual answers, he needed those from Seulgi. But it was you beside him, not Seulgi, so he confides. "It can't be my dick," he laughs, which you returned.

"How sure are you?" Your forehead wrinkled as your brows knot together, a grin forming on your lips.

"A hundred percent, solid. It's probably my snoring, isn't it?" His stare leaves the camera, which had shut down moments ago, taking the courage to look at you who never looked more concern through the small smile you were showing.

"I've never heard you snore, but yeah. I guess so. I don't really follow the relationship you both have."

"Had," he corrects, and then released a nasal huff.

Through his burning face, he was still perfect in every way. His hair lays flat on top of his head, parted in the middle. His bottom lip bitten. His nose scrunches trying to sniff, then he brings the back of his hand to cover the lower part of his face. Your lips curved when he laughed at himself.

"Can we go? I just... I feel like she's on the way here and I don't really want to see her laugh with her friends," he said, nose blocking him from speaking properly.

Seulgi stands by the entrance, searching the cafeteria and when she spots Jimin, she pulls her friend to the counter. This didn't go unnoticed by Jimin, he pulls you harshly out of panic. You've never seen him so frustrated, it was funny.

"Dude, Jimin, what the fuck?" Your bag was open and as he tried to pull you away, your notes dropped on the floor, revealing all your drafts for the feature.

Jimin squats on the floor, examining your written works. The panic passes onto you, his face turned into a frown.

What could he have read?

"Jesus christ y/n, who broke your heart? These are so pessimistic," his hand ravishes on the crumpled paper, reading essays of a hundred words. You somehow regret not throwing those in the trash the moment you finished them.

"Can I just-" He stops your hand from reaching the papers, stretching his other hand away from you.

"This is not what 'falling in love in high school' is like! You're not following the topic given!" he yells, but a glint of happiness spreads across his face. He finds some sort of amusement from your reaction.

"You don't get it, Jimin. You only have to take pictures of couples, I have to write about them! It's not as easy as you think!"

Jimin was also a part of the school publication. He was mostly praised for his average photos, you've told him many times how they're not at all impressive. But he was a popular and good-looking student, everything he does will be adored by many. As opposed to you, who have only written one successful work throughout four years of being in the same page with him. High school will always be that way.

"Whatever. Your works won't make it to the paper if you keep them this way," he says with a stronger voice, a restrain on his throat from earlier brushing away.

"Can you just give them to me?" You reach for his other hand, but his hand on your shoulder kept you away from him. His strong scent burns your nose, but you didn't care even if you felt how hot his skin was. You only pushed yourself further, desperate to get the drafts.

"No, no," he clicks his tongue, "gotta tell me who's this ex of yours first." He waved his eyebrows and your shoulders slumped.

"I don't have an ex-boyfriend. There, you happy?" you declare under a small tone.

He inches his face to yours, and you pulled away when you felt him breathe against your lips. "No shit, y/n. Why the pessimism then?" He was trying to get a rise out of you and you are almost giving in. He reads them again but this time you give up, you couldn't stand his perfume any longer.

"I hate highschool couples. They act like everything is about relationships, even going to college together. Ew." You raise a brow, cocking your head towards him as you cross your arms on your chest.

"Fuck off. You just don't get it." He folds the torn pieces of paper, placing them in his pockets.

"Hey, give that to me!" You try to reach again, but he got a hold of your hand and you soften.

"They suck. I don't want Yoongi to read them, he'll probably judge the shit out of you."

"Why do you care? I take criticism."

"Yeah, and you're gonna get it from me," he says without a lot of consideration. So much of smiling caused his face to lose its puffiness, eyes losing a little bit of their shine.

"I don't need a photographer judging my work. Give them back!"

"Shush." He waves his index finger in front of your face.

You slap his hand away, thinning your lips and giving in to whatever Jimin was trying to do. "What are you gonna do with them?"

"I'll change them," he tilts his head before grabbing you to exit the cafeteria, the hallway rolls before the both of your feet and Jimin only puts his arm around you, "because that's what good friends do."

"For your entertainment, fine. Change it however you'd like, hell you can even put Seulgi's name as the title, I don't care. My idea of high school romance will remain the same!"

"I love Seulgi, alright? It's true, I felt it. Just because we are young doesn't mean our emotions are invalid."

"That's not my point, Jimin. All I'm trying to say is there's not a single record of relationships making it out of high school. It ends in high school and that's it."

His grip on your shoulder loosens and he turns to face you, your eyes remained on the walk ahead. Again, the smell of his perfume irritates your nose, you breathe shortly to avoid it.

"My parents met in highschool, you know that," he argues.

"But their relationship didn't start in highschool, you also know that."

He releases a breath of defeat, but he continued with his debate. "Regardless, high school romance is real. You've never had a crush before?"

"I've had crushes, Jimin. But they're crushes, nothing ever led to 'love'," your tone curved by the end of your sentence, hating the word.

Jimin was aware of your crushing habit, and he knew about each of them. Jungkook from the cafeteria, Seokjin who used to be a senior in the school, and Mr. Kim Namjoon of Biology class. He never missed a single one, but there's one you've never admitted to Jimin. Which was your tiny feelings for him. But you find no use of telling him since it only lasted a month, then he became this jackass friend of yours and you never wished for it change. He has been an amazing friend and everything was platonic between the both of you, he was the only boy you could look in the eyes without feeling insecure.

"Infatuation is the start of everything, dumbass."

"I don't want any of it," you reply and Jimin takes a hold of your arm when you tried to enter your class.

"Wait, I have a proposal." Your hand holds a strap of your bag, slouching in front of him. You turn to him again, brows rising to let him continue.

He takes a few moments before talking again, his adam's apple bobbed slowly as he takes the courage. Your eyes narrowed at his figure, trying to analyze his thoughts faster than he could. Jimin can get unpredictable sometimes, a kind you can't read. It's unfair he could read you like a book, a book he knows all too well.

"What if I make you fall in love?"

Your eyes widen, pulling away from him harshly, just enough to make him feel your rejection to his proposal. He can't be serious, and he can't be this horrible to use you as a rebound for Seulgi.

You as a pawn? No way!

You're not letting Jimin make your last year of high school dramatic with Seulgi's friends judging you by the hallway when you walk past them with Jimin's hand in your back pocket. No, that's not gonna happen.

"Are you insane? What's wro-"

"No, not with me. I phrased it wrong. I meant what if I make you feel like falling in love. You can't just keep denying emotions all through out highschool."

You weren't denying anything. You have a belief, a belief that no relationship in highschool ever lasts.

"Why do you want to prove me wrong so bad? Can't you just let me be?" your tone loomed over him. Anger took over your voice when you didn't mean it, so you looked at him in a stern way to let him know you weren't mad, just confused.

"I want you to know that I am in love with Seulgi. And your opinion is wrong, people fall in love during highschool."

"Jimin, I get it! You're in love with Seulgi, I don't care. Blah blah blah, love is relevant for you. Now get over it."

Both of you were standing before the door to Biology class, it looked stupid. Your classmates are starting to look at you funny, gossiping before entering the room behind you. You take your attention away from it and focused on Jimin's argument and hand which was still wrapped around your arm, he doesn't seem to notice how sweaty his palms are.

"No, you obviously don't get it. You're taking my emotion as a joke."

Why was he getting so worked up with my statement?

"Fine," you surrender. "What is falling in love like?"

Mr. Kim — or Mr. Joonie as you like to call him, appears behind Jimin, his height hovering over your friend. He nods at you and says "You have five minutes" before entering the almost rowdy class. You catch your favorite musky smell when he made his way behind you.

"I'll come by" was Jimin's last response before he vanished from the empty hallway, your mind not comprehending his reply.

Come by what? Where?

Whatever it was, you tried to pushed it to the back of your mind and failed. Biology was interesting, Mr. Joonie was wearing your favorite black and blue striped tie paired with his thin white long sleeves shirt. He discussed further about DNA base pairs which you fell behind on when your brain decides to bring back Jimin's last words.

You tried to bring your ears on Mr. Joonie's lesson, but your mind could only pull away. Screw Jimin for ruining this class for you, distraction was the last thing you needed this month and here comes your infatuated friend to fuck everything up. But it wasn't his idea that made you think, it's your reaction to his idea that caught your attention. You were too defensive earlier, but you guessed it's the right thing to do. However, you can only overthink.

Jimin's proposal was garbage, in what way would it possibly help you?

Falling in love? That's overrated, your mind is set for your one and only goal and that is graduating from this hellhole of hormonal teenagers seeking for love.

Jeez, you sounded like an old lady, but you know it's the truth. Falling in love leads to nothing but a disaster and worst case scenario: baby, which is not part of the high school bucket list you've made for your graduating year. Thanks to your hormones, they weren't as wild as the other teens.

Biology was quicker than you expected. Well, you spent the whole time looking out the window and wondering what the fuck Jimin meant. Lucky for you, Mr. Joonie never paid attention to you to even notice you weren't paying attention to him.

When you finished your Spanish class — your last period, you never caught Jimin in the hallway. Which you wouldn't have expected from what he had said, but you were only left disappointed. You guessed he went after Seulgi to give her the talk. You head home quickly, preparing to study the whole night. You cringe at the idea, already missing the feeling of the living room's sofa while binge-watching 80's sci-fi movies.

He probably forgot already, you tell yourself while flipping through the dull pages of your notebook. A tinge of small dismay tugs at your stomach, you shouldn't have expected too much from a friend like him. You left the thought as you push the first paragraph of your reviewer into your mind, it was ineffective. You only longed for something else, maybe it was food.

You leave your cold room, tiptoeing towards the kitchen downstairs. Your tummy jumps when you saw the cookie jar full. A neon green sticky note beside it reads "clean the house. - mom <3"

You roll your eyes, ignoring the note and opening the glass of sweets. The doorbell rings before your fingers could make contact with the cookies, annoyance builds inside you.

I swear, if this isn't the dress I ordered online. Your pj's drag along the floor as you reach for the door, and a sweaty Jimin stands in front of you. You close your eyes out of embarrassment, regretting that you didn't check the peephole first. You stand in your loose black shirt that barely hangs on your left shoulder, revealing the strap of your bra.

"Wow, you look awful," Jimin narrows his eyes, meticulously scanning your appearance. Your bra strap was only a part of your horrible get up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you assert, pulling the sleeve of your shirt to cover your exposed skin.

"I said I'd come by remember?" Oh, that's what he meant. "Sorry, I took long. Taehyung called for a meeting for the Curious Minds Club."

Of course, the Curious Minds Club, possibly the worst name for a science club. Jimin loved that name so much, he would always mention it in its entirety. It was his and Taehyung's idea, which you opposed when he asked for your opinion. He reasoned that you never cared about science anyway so you had no right to oppose him, which was stupid 'cause he asked for an opinion in the first place.

"You know what, it's a good thing you and Taehyung are graduating this year so juniors could rename that stupid club."

He walks past you and throws his bag on the floor before laying on the couch, not needing an invitation from you. "Why do you always have to hate my ideas? Just agree for once, Curious Minds is a legendary name."

You shut the door, heading back to the kitchen and finally getting your hands on the cookies. You moan in satisfaction, its taste exploding on your tongue. Jimin spins his head to you.

"Did your Mom make those?"

You nod, bringing the whole jar to him.You let the couch eat you, completely forgetting the reviewer waiting for you in your room. Jimin takes a bite and you absorbed his reaction, similar to yours.

"What are you gonna tell me?" you start.

Jimin's face lit up. "Right, almost forgot about that."

You sat a foot away from him, keeping distance from his nauseating perfume. Your legs cross in front of you, Jimin's arm spreads on top of the sofa right above you.

"So, you've never been in a relationship, right?" Not this again.

You nod, taking another soft cookie.

"I read your drafts during English class, and I gotta say y/n," you stare at him in anticipation, "you suck."

"You're gonna come over to my house, eat my Mom's cookies, and then roast me?! Fuck you, Jimin."

He laughs. "I'm kidding. You filled that paper with passion of hatred towards highschool couples, I started hating them as well," he explains.

"You're one of those couples, dummy. I actually took inspiration from you and Seulgi."

"I thought you don't follow our relationship?" he asks, his head cocking to your direction.

"I heard enough from you throughout the course of six months. Seulgi this, Seulgi that. Seulgi's being complicated, Seulgi's so cute when she burps. Seulgi's being too friendly with Taeyong, oh nevermind, Seulgi just said she loves me," you imitate his irritating ranting from the past, which you wish you would never receive anymore. Expecting an exasperated expression, you were surprised to see Jimin smiling at you.

"I thought you weren't listening all those times."

"Sadly, I was and I shouldn't have."

"The Taeyong part is still true, though," he extends the cookie he was holding forward, trying to pinpoint, "I saw them before dismissal."

"Look at you, all sad and sentimental. Cute li'l Jimin stalking his ex-girlfriend. Awe, how tragic," you vexed, pouting at the obviously annoyed boy.

"I wasn't stalking. I just saw them."

"Poor guy getting his heart broken in the hallway, poor Chimchim. How is he gonna move on now?"

"Quit it," sneered Jimin, indulging on his cookie.

He was still affected, it happened only a few hours ago, he won't be moving on too quickly. Seulgi's laugh is still fresh in his memory, and he could hear it vividly. He could still feel his stomach drop when he thinks of her. His world crumbling into pieces, like the cookie at the bottom of the jar, whenever he's reminded of how her eyes disappear when she smiles much like his — eyes forming intro wrinkly crescents. You felt as if you went below the belt when he became quiet, an uncomfortable silence sitting in the gap between the both of you.

"Back to my proposal," he breaks, "it would really change your writing."

You face pulled together in a center. "How can you say so, Mr. Photographer?"

He inches closer, but his smell was weaker, it was bearable. "Just like what the late Benjamin Franklin had said, 'either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.'"

Your lungs deflate, narrowed eyes processing him. "And what does that have to do with my writing? I wrote something worth reading," you proudly announce.

"No, you're writing your own opinion on a feature. When I read it, I felt like going nowhere. I didn't feel like going back to high school. I felt like I'm in the same place, there's nothing that opened in me," he explains, his words tightening your own throat. "The topic is falling in love in high school, but all I ever felt was hatred."

He pulled a chord in you. He was actually right. Your body falls on the couch, groaning out of frustration.

"What you wrote isn't worth reading, but-" he slouches on the couch and faces you, "you can do something worth writing."

Your cheek sinks on the couch, glaring at Jimin who never looked more passionate about helping you. Break ups do things to people, really.

"And what's that exactly?"

"I know you've never fallen in love in high school, so I'm gonna let you experience what people in love do."

"That doesn't sound like a good idea. I don't want to get messy with Seulgi." The cold leather against your cheeks didn't stop them to burn.

"No, y/n, we're not gonna date. Just trust me on this one, okay?" he convinces and you give in, finding no sense in arguing about a stupid subject

"Just don't do anything weird. I don't really get the gist of your plan."

"What are things that couples do?"

"Aside from making out and having sex at a party? I don't know," you say, his face not impressed.

"I really hate you right now. That's not what we do-"

"Did," you correct, a smile forming on your lips. His frown only worsens from the continuous mocking that you were doing. "Go on, what else did you do?"

His eyes rolled. "Dates. Have you ever been on dates?"

Of course, you have. Family dates count as real dates. That coffee date you had with Sana last Thursday counts, right?

And so, without further arguments within you, you decided to turn down Jimin's dumb idea. Who is he to make fun of you for not going to dates often? You were about to tell him that he's not an inch entitled to show you what a date feels like.

Unreasonably anxious, you tug your skirt down as a small swirl of wind hits on your thin skin. Jimin waves from the bench, standing up to analyze what you wore. You weren't supposed to feel your stomach fall when you finally came to face him, but you did. A tiny voice doubted your outfit choice, and a tiny voice told you how good he looked. Satisfaction fills your wandering mind, you were scared you'd come overdressed with your white puff sleeves.

There was a short amount of silence that gave you enough time to admire him. His Canon camera hangs around his neck, it was the first thing you noticed. He stands there in his skin-tight black pair of ripped jeans, and topped with a thick mustard hoodie. His cute yellow sneakers popped out from the gray cemented ground. Your nose tickled when his scent enters.

"Sorry" was all you could say.

He grins gently, eyes disappearing. "You're about thirty minutes late."

If you didn't spend minutes arguing with yourself about what to wear, you would've arrived sooner. But here you are, still regretting the choice you made. His bright fashion didn't complement your pale vintage look, not that it mattered to him, but you grew conscious.

"Where are you taking me?" you strengthen your voice, trying to seem more confident than you really are.

He tucks both of his hands inside his pockets. "Just pretend I'm either Jungkook or Mr. Kim, whoever you wanna go on a date with."

Imagining Jungkook with a sheepish bunny-like smile, your heart starts to melt and it was vivid in your cheeks.

"See, you're already flustering."

"No, I'm not. Get on with your plan." It was obvious but you chose to deny it, Jimin should be the last person on earth to see you flustered. "Where are you taking me?"

"There's a photography exhibit down the street I'd like to take you in. Wanna eat first?"

His eyes can't help but wander around your body, and you'd be blind to not notice what he was doing.

"Is there something wrong with I'm wearing?" The loud children playing by park almost made your voice inaudible.

"Nope, it's amazing. You look beautiful, y/n," his pitch ascends, tweaking your ears.

You diminish your mind from his compliment, it's all an act. You know he's only doing this to make you feel something which what everything is about. You look away from him, distracting yourself with the pigeons nearby, hoping it would stop your blood from rushing to your face. Jimin takes your hand, intertwining it with his soft palm. Your body hitches and he only held on tighter.

"I know a cafe."

You didn't give him an answer to decide, but he was already pulling you towards a corner. It would've been an unbearable silence if you weren't in public. You hoped he would not notice how your skin has gone damp, tensed by the moment his warm soft fingers made contact with yours. Excitement awakens within you, an unfamiliar emotion.

The moment you saw him sitting on the bench waiting for you, it already felt like a poem waiting to be written. You could already write a hundred words just describing how he looked today. It isn't love, it's just attraction.

He opens the entrance to a cafe — you were too distracted to read the name. You lose contact with his hand as he sits by the counter and so did you. A middle-aged woman with a forced grin awaits on the other side of the counter.

"I'd have a chocolate milkshake," you tell Jimin, shyness was completely obvious in your voice.

"Just one chocolate milkshake," Jimin tells the waiter, his gaze focused on you.

Jenna — written on her name tag — gives a forced lift to her cheeks, proceeding to the kitchen behind. You were in the midst of asking him why he only ordered for himself, but you jumped when you hear his camera click, a flash directed towards your way.

"Ugh, what's wrong with you?"

"To make it last longer," Jimin mumbles, you ignore.

You shouldn't have agreed to this. You shouldn't have rejected Sana's offer to review at the library. You shouldn't have let Jimin take control of the day. Because ever since the moment you arrived in your carefully picked clothes, your mind never acted straight. Never in your five years of high school have you ever felt so embarrassed and timid.

Why isn't he talking? Did I look stupid in the last photo? How many chapters could I have reviewed by now if I stayed home?

Jenna slams the glass of chocolate shake on the counter. You and Jimin didn't bother to react, too busy thinking of what exactly is this tension between the both of you. Jimin takes two straws, slowly inserting them on the mushy drink. He leans forward on his elbow rested against the cold edge of the table, facing sidewards to look at you better. You looked cute when you're ignoring his gaze, and for a second, he forgot the hole in his heart. It only felt stronger the moment you side-eyed him.

"What?" you mutter, unaware of your effect on him.

After a small sip, his eyes widened when he gulped. "It's good, c'mon, try it."

His bottom lip glistens, you weren't even sure why you caught that detail on his face. With a scrutinizing look from him, the moment didn't grow comfortable for you. The longer you stayed with him, the harder it is you try to stop your stomach from doing unnecessary turns.

You sigh. This is not gonna get better if you keep acting like a shy high school girl — well, you are a shy high school girl, but that's never the case with Jimin. He was your friend, a very close friend. With a lump swallowed in your throat, you approached the elephant in the room.

"Jimin," you breathe. "This is weird. I don't even kno-"

"I'll stop you there. You're having butterflies in your stomach, aren't you?" He licks his lip, excited to hear your answer.

"No. No, I'm not having butterflies in my stomach." You raise your chin.

He snickers. "You're supposed to feel it, not deny it. You're such an amateur. Your writing's not gonna get better if you keep being subjective. You feel flustered like the other girls in high school on a date, accept it."

He's making sense and you hate it. But at least it has been addressed. He knows what you're feeling and you don't have to keep it a secret. Defeated, you sigh. You regained your composure which you might have lost by the moment he smiled at you at the bench.

"You take Seulgi here often?" Your lips trembled in the slightest way before taking a sip from your straw.

Jimin chokes on his own breath. "What? You're asking about my ex on our date?"

An intense heat builds upon you, beading of sweat forms on your nape. Our date, two words that repeated like a broken vinyl in your head. Maybe it was being numb for years that everything right now starts to feel like everything. It's not the same emotions you feel when you wrote those drafts, it's something else you can't put your tongue on.

You purse your lips, swallowing the cold drink. "What do we even talk about?" you giggle out.

He didn't take any second to think, Jimin already had something in mind. His hand touches the glass of the drink, finger rubbing the small drips of water on its sides. There isn't something that he's doing that you weren't noticing. You're quite aware that he was just as observant as you by the way he hasn't taken his eyes off you since you sat down.

"Why do you write?" He lifts the glass off the table, bringing it close to him and taking a sip while he waits for your answer.

Well, it's a simple reason. It's all you know, it's all you ever do. Your second grade teacher was quite an amazing narrator. You remember closing your eyes to her melodic voice as she describes the dragon's tower: red bricks stand over a thousand pieces, to the sky it went and in the cloud it hid, scared to be found by a knight who wanted nothing but to save it. It was a remnant of your almost forgotten childhood, since then you only wanted to seek more of those words. A flaming desire sparked in you, that is to write a picture.

"You ever had that feeling like flying when you read something? It's so vibrant and you could almost feel it take you places." You bit your lip, eyes closing to pull your words together. "I want people to feel what I feel, what I see, what I know. To get them to react the way I want them to, but learn something I never knew I wrote." You open your eyes to see him deeply absorbed in your explanation. "You probably don't even get it," you sigh.

"No, I totally get it. I understand."  He places the drink back to its wet ring-like mark on the table. "That's exactly how I feel about photography. I want people to see the way I view things, my focal point in life. With photography, I can get them to look at things in a specific perspective."

You were unconscious of the smooth smile that grew on your lips. All this time, you thought you knew Jimin well, but this only opened a door to him. For five years, you've always been ignorant of what others do and what others feel. It felt like a waste of years, the only thing you learned about in high school was Sana's love for body sprays and now, Jimin's reason for photography.

Your throat goes dry, not having anything to say. Though you had a lot in mind, how his eyes shined bright when he enthusiastically praised what he loves. Regret screams inside you, how could I let five years pass by so quickly. There was so much to learn and so much to write, it's a disappointment you've only written for essays and Min Yoongi.

You scoot towards the drink, trying to catch the straw with your lips while your eyes are darted on Jimin. Slurping impulsively, you caught Jimin's face turn into a shock.

"Don't finish our drink!" He dives in with you, sipping much more intensely than you.

You slid off to laugh, a small amount of chocolate drapes on your bottom lip but you were fast enough to catch it with your finger. You catch the straw again, trying to compete with Jimin. The proximity between you was the last thing in your mind, you only cared about getting more milkshake than Jimin who seem to fall behind your level.

You slam your fist on the table after finishing the drink and Jimin leans away to laugh, already accepting his lost. "I win!" you cheer, holding the biggest smile.

Jimin cocks his head, stretching out his hand for a handshake. With a graceful pump, he exhales a tired huff from laughing too hard. "I guess that's one thing you're good at," his lips curved, forming a soft wrinkle on his right cheek. "Sucking."

You snort. "You're also good at finishing early." Earning a chuckle from him, your brow raised.

"How would you know? You never tried me."

You inhale silently, not wanting him to be aware of your reaction. What a stupid comeback. He stands from his seat, pulling his black leather wallet from his back pocket.

"Let's split it," you tell him immediately, hand already reaching for your purse.

"Hey, no. This one's on me. I invited you remember?" He was already placing a bill on the table which Jenna quickly approached, leaving a tip for her that made her smile a little different than earlier.

Your skin turns moist as the both of you walk out the cafe, heat raking against your skin. He returns his hand in yours, so casually it felt so real. He's got a hold of your fingers and he does it so well, it didn't feel foreign, like your hand has somehow molded in there and made its home.

You follow his direction, not bothering to speak since you were afraid your words would only fail you. Silence doesn't seem to bother Jimin as much as it bothers you, he only focused on his way to the exhibit and how your hand felt wrapped in his. Not being able to endure it any longer, you dared to speak.

"I'll pay you back, I promise."

His head didn't turn, and his mouth didn't open. Instead, his thumb rubs over yours. It was a movement so subtle, yet electricity bursts under your skin. You drift your focus on your footsteps, refusing to step on a crack making your phase noticeable to Jimin. You fall a little behind from him, but the game you're playing with your feet felt so serious at the moment. Jimin eyes you, then to your feet, figuring out what the hell you were trying to do. Thinning the space between his brows, he pulls you close with a tight grip on your hand.

"We're here," strictly he says.

A narrow door towers in front of you, and Jimin pulls you inside. Like a normal exhibit, walls were white, exaggerating the black and white photos hanging around them. Strangers inside could easily be counted, scattered around every corner of the room.

"They're all by Ash Park, a film photographer," he states, leading you to the left side to showcase the first picture.

In a golden frame, a pale girl bends to play ball with children much shorter than her in an alleyway. Jimin finds interest in your face, clearing his throat to begin his explanation. You ignore the description pasted on the wall beside it, letting Jimin do the work.

"That's in Cuba. That girl there is an actress, not so popular though. She and Ash are very close friends, if not more than that."

Your brows quirked up, lips pouting with the information given. "Bet your ass they are."

He breathes a laugh before walking to the next frame, and you follow.

"Did you go here already?" you asked, arms crossed against your chest and eyes pinned on the picture.

The same girl sits at the end of the bed, winking at the camera. Her hands politely placed on her thighs with legs crossed. Even in a colorless picture, her personality can be vibrantly seen. She was simply beautiful in her lacy dress.

You turn to Jimin who was staring right at you, his head quickly turning to the photo.

"I've been here with Taehyung," he answers. "About the picture, it's the same girl obviously. I think it's exquisitely symmetrical. Just amazing how aesthetic she looked sitting so proper on the bed. She's like the center of everything in that hotel room, I think that's what Ash is on about."

"I love your depiction, it's making me fall in love," you thin your lips, "with the picture, of course."

Jimin huffs. "Just the picture? Look at her, she's beautiful. He's clearly in love with her. I could hear her laugh from this picture, it's making me fall in love with her too."

"What's her name?"

"Jinri."

You've always thought that words are the only thing that can move a person, but Jinri's smile shines through the printed material. In an unexplainable way, you could feel the chemistry built within the photographer and the model, it is way beyond words. Again, Jimin explains another picture and always find yourself so absorbed within his way of interpretation. And aside from that, whenever your eyes look upon him, he already had his on you.

It goes on for a while, then you found your favorite piece. Jinri reading a book while her body rests on the glass of a store's window. Surrounded by a busy street, it seemed scripted. Nonetheless, it was still beautiful.

"This is my favorite," Jimin says.

"No way, I was just debating about that." Your eyes wandered around the picture, trying to pick up more details.

Jimin grins in astonishment. "It reminds me of a specific picture I took back in eighth grade. Do you remember the book fair?"

"Are you kidding? That's where we met."

"Yeah. That's the day I first brought my camera to school. I was playing around with the lens, trying out different stuff, and then I accidentally took a picture of this girl reading a book. And when I looked at it, the camera focused on her and the rest of the crowd was a blur."

"Do I know her?"

Jimin gulps. "No, probably not. From what I heard, she transferred schools the same year. It's my favorite though, I even printed it out."

"Really? Let me se-"

"It's in my Science notebook. I'll show you some other time."

The rest of the day continued, Jimin asking if you wanted to eat again which you wasted no second to say yes to. You eventually found out about Jimin's hatred towards ketchup. And when you got home, unopened books greeted you from your desk. However, regret didn't knock on your door that night, you were only left smiling while highlighting half of the pages.

But you weren't supposed to be thinking of Jimin like that, knowing the fact that you were supposed to imagine Jungkook during that date. It was bothersome that Jungkook never even crossed your mind today.

Sana's menacing eyes scanned you from head to toe, not believing the lie you had just told her. Your words completely stopping her from reviewing the Lush soap in her hand. Placing the glittery soap back to its container, she minimizes the gap between your bodies.

"I know damn well when you're lying, y/n. You did not review with Park Jimin." Your chest heaved at the mention of his name and you hope Sana didn't notice.

But of course, she's much like you. Quite the observant type, that's why she's your best friend. Years of observing and chattering about high school drama in the cafeteria would be useless if she didn't notice that small body language.

Lately, you keep finding yourself in situations you regret going to. Again, you were supposed to be diving deeper into your calculus reviewer, which you failed to finish last night, but to make up for rejecting Sana's offer to review at the library a day ago, you let her drag you to the mall. You wish you can just gauge your eyes out to make it impossible for Sana to read them.

She releases a breath, the mint chocolate ice cream she had from earlier traveling to your nose. "Please tell me you used a condom."

You slap her shoulder, eyes widening while she solemnly awaits your response. "What's wrong with you? That's the last thing on my list." Immediately regretting your last sentence, you shut your eyes tightly. "I mean it's not on my list." Fuck.

"You're risking failing the exams for a date, that's very unlikely of you."

Not wanting to look at her much longer, you drew your eyes to the bath bombs placed on the wooden table, hands skimming through their rough texture.

"We did not date. We had to do our assignments for the school pub," you clarify, emphasizing every word clearly.

Sana's body remains to face you, ignoring her favorite shimmery body products lying on the shelf beside her. "Last time I heard that was on Fifteen and Pregnant. Was it missionary? Come on, tell me the details."

"Holy shit, quit it! I didn't have sex with Jimin!" You heard every head turning to face you, looks of disgust thrown towards your way.

"Oh, really?" A deep voice sneaks behind you, making you place the lavender bath bomb back to its place. Taehyung blinks like a dumbfounded child, contrasting his deep voice from earlier. His height towers over you and Sana who was just as confused as you are.

"Excuse me? Is it normal for nerds to be such a creep all the time?" You felt Sana nod from beside you with her arms crossed on her chest.

"What? I'm not a nerd. You're a nerd," he points to Sana, "you too."

"Why are you here anyway? This is Lush not Gamestop."

His nose crinkled. "Just a quick FYI, there's a difference between geeks and nerds. And I am not any of those." Placing a hand in the middle of his chest, he looks you deeper.

You smirk, turning to Sana. "Nerd."

"Are you buying lotion for your boyfriend? Is that why you're here?" Sana curves a corner of her lips, proud of what she had said.

"No, I'm here to buy wax for your Mom. You got any suggestions?" retaliated Taehyung, cocking a head towards Sana. "I happen to pass by and I heard you talking about fucking Jimin. I was intrigued."

"Ew, no. She was joking," you reply, rolling your eyes to Sana.

"Oh, I know. He wouldn't be talking with Seulgi if you guys did... you know?" He raises a brow, and you furrowed yours, trying to pretend that you don't understand.

The mention of Seulgi's name struck a chord in you. You knew it was physically impossible for your blood to boil, but it's the right way to describe it. Guessing it's only the hatred for Sana and Taehyung teasing you about Jimin, somehow deep inside you were envious of Seulgi. It was probably the reason Jimin was hard to be seen today, and you're not denying that you did expect him to come talk with you.

"He was?" you ask with a tiny voice, unaware that you just said it.

"I saw them during lunchtime, didn't you?" Taehyung replies sternly, having no intention to make fun of your reaction.

"Right. Yeah, I saw them," you lie quickly, biting your lip afterwards.

Sana looks at you from your side, pursing her lips and trying her best to not say the wrong thing. It was her first time to see you unreadable. Your emotions were new and something she's never encountered before throughout years of knowing you. She's only used to comforting you about a failed quiz, or a scolding from Mrs. Cruz when you can't pronounce Desafortunadamente properly. But she can guess it, jealousy and confusion isn't something new to her. However, it's still absurd to see those emotions printed on your face.

Sana ended up buying a strawberry chapstick, and Taehyung had left before you knew it. She insists to take you home for unknown reasons, it was unusual of her to do so. And you throw yourself on the bed, still with your hot sweater on, careless if you start to smell or not.

You push your head onto the soft fabric of your pillow, trying to take your mind off of your reviewer and the unresolved teenage drama, ew. Now all of your actions are revealing their consequences, your mind falling into a pit of regret. Your crush on Jimin can't come back now, not before the exam at least. You have no strength to fight all that emotions, you should only have one thing in your head and it should be Chapter 8: DNA Base Pairs.

Screaming into the pillow, your Dad comes walking to your door, knocking passively and asking if you were doing okay which you stuttered a yes to. You release an exasperated sigh when you hear him walk back downstairs, continuing his favorite ESPN show.

You would think that a long exhausting day would actually exhaust you, but for some dumb reason, you got up from your bed and sat behind your desk. With a palpitating heart, your eyes wander around the messy table, looking for some sort of entertainment.

I should sleep, like right now. It was a school night, and staying up to decide whether to watch a RomCom movie or to write stresses you more than it should. For the mean time, fuck DNA Base Pairs and calculus, life is now and you're watching 50 First Dates for the seventh time.

The light emitting from the crevice below your door and the floor dims down a few moments ago, and your Dad was no longer cheering for a Christiano Ronaldo rerun. The night has gone quicker than you thought, it was already twelve o'clock sharp, and your eyes are not weighing down at least one bit. They remain full and in awe whenever Drew Barrymore is shown on screen.

Your jump out of your skin when you heard a soft clonk from outside your window, thinking it would just be a twig falling down a tree, you ignore. But they continued for three more times, and twigs falling down during a serene quiet night would be strange. If it was windy outside, you would've heard its gush.

You pause the movie on your laptop screen, waiting for another sound. And then you heard three more knocks. Your head follows the sound. You've never felt more overly excited in your life, stomach jumping in anticipation.

Jimin smiles through the window, relieved that you haven't gone deaf. He waves, then points towards the lock on your window. You nod, hopping out of your seat to unlock it. You hear him sigh, throwing his bag inside your room.

"What are you doing here? Did you get in trouble?"

Jimin's petite body slides right in with no problem, huffing in front of you after his success. He looks to your door then back at you, sweat rolling against the frame of his face.

"You wanna wake your parents? Can you chill for a sec," he whispers, walking towards the end of your bed and dropping on the floor.

While you were busy struggling to pull down the window, Jimin drags his bag to get his camera. Before you could flop beside him, the camera flashes your face. Your lips remain thin, too lazy to react. Scratching the back of your ear, you sit beside him.

"Seriously, how'd you get here in the middle of the night?" you ask, hugging your legs while your fingers tug on the fabric of your jeans.

Jimin spreads his legs, slouching on the wood behind him. He turns the camera off before seeing the picture, his focus already on you. "I stole my brother's car."

"And for what reason?"

"I can't sleep," his head hits the hard material as he turns to see you closer and you cringed for him, "I didn't see you at school today, why's that?"

"Sana dragged me to the mall right after my Spanish class. As for lunch break, I finished my Social Studies essay in the library."

"You could have told me at least. I was waiting for you during lunch."

"No, you weren't," you say quickly, "you were with Seulgi."

Jimin's head rises from its comfort, tilting in confusion. "Why would I be with her?"

You gulp, preparing to say the next lines without jealousy interfering in them. "Taehyung told me so. I ran to him at the mall."

He laughs, making you nervous. His head falls back again, bringing his hand on his stomach. "He probably saw us in the hallway. I did talk to her."

You bit your lip, confused why you expected a different answer from him. Your emotions remain unsolved.

"She wanted to get her bracelet back. She left it in my room before we broke up, but that's about it."

Contentment calms your nerve. He leans closer, and his familiar scent once again enters your nostrils, you exhale it away. "So, I came here uh... I feel like I needed someone to talk to."

"Taehyung's a choice," you reply, closing your eyes to lessen the excitement.

"His parents are actually going through a divorce right now, I don't want to add to his problems," he lets go of a long sigh, body falling to your side.

You lean backwards to make him feel more comfortable, watching his eyes close gently. "You should be there for him," you suggest in a soft tone.

"When I saw her earlier, I didn't want to approach her. I was confused when she walked to me," he said, disregarding your reply. "I feel guilty. I feel like I shouldn't be over her so quickly, I mean... I'm not over her, it's just that I feel better than how she's doing."

You listen to the sound of his calm breathing, and his hoarse voice that tried its best to get lower than it already is.

"When I talked about following her to college, I only said it to feel like I'm doing what I should as her boyfriend. I've always felt obligated around her and that's not how it should go. I love her but it's not the kind of love where everything falls into place." Jimin groans, lifting his body off you.

He ruffles his hair, bending his legs upwards to hug them, copying your position.

"I know it sounded like I'm seeking for perfect love, I'm not. I know relationships have their struggles, but my love for her isn't strong enough to keep it going. She broke up with me, but I feel like I was just waiting for her to."

"You children are so in love with the word 'love'." You dig your chin in between your knees.

"Y/n, it's love whether it's weak or strong. It's love for what I knew love to be. But I love her in a way I couldn't do things for myself, not that she forced me to, I just felt obligated to do so."

"Then don't do it. She'll still love you back even if you don't follow her to college."

"Do I sound stupid?"

You lift your chin to look at him, his eyes already angled towards you. "Honestly? Not really. You're in the midst of things, you can laugh about it later if it's stupid, but it's how you feel and you shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"Exactly, so why are you hating on high school romance again?"

You laugh. "I might need a little more convincing from you."

Your response was what he wanted to hear. There's more comfort in your hand and he realized that the moment he have let go of it during the day at the exhibition. He wants to do this with you, more than ever.

"Do you want to get some KFC?" he asks.

"Are you kidding? It's 12AM!"

"Do stomachs close when it's midnight? Come on, I'm really craving for some zinger right now. And we'll be back before your parents even know it," he insists. "Do something adventurous for once, high school is ending and all you can tell your grandkids about it is homework."

You roll your eyes. "I really can't," smacking your lips, "say no to that."

Jimin wastes no time in pulling you towards the window, but you shake his hand off to take your dirty sweater off, revealing your sky blue smocked bodice cami top. Jimin ravels his eyes on your body, a lump forming inside his throat.

"Move," you tease, pushing him towards the window. Thank God, it was humid outside, you wouldn't have survived with just a sleeveless top.

The next thing you know, Jimin was singing at the top of his lungs to What Lovers Do and with such a falsetto voice, you sang along as well. Looking to your side was when you realized how great the city lights compliment Jimin's smile, and everything felt so fixed, you weren't worried about getting caught nor falling asleep in class tomorrow, it just felt so right and perfect.

This was something based on novels you read as a middle schooler, and you were foolish to never believe in any of it. Some quotes start to make sense, everything was a hazy dream and no words can ever define how extraordinary Jimin's eyes looked as they twinkle inside the dark vehicle.

Jimin had no other thoughts than enjoying the moment with you, in this year is where it all ends and everything starts. Graduation was nearing and the only thing making perfect sense for him was that soft beam you have while you bob your head to the beat. Bokeh was something that he only sees in pictures, but he dies right the moment you smiled at him and you were surrounded by them.

He makes a turn, almost forgetting that you were here to eat with him. As soon as the both of you arrive inside, Jimin runs to the counter to place the orders.

You sit near the entrance, chin resting on your palm while you wait for Jimin to finish. The girl in the counter seems to be around your age, and she looks at Jimin with so much happiness in your eyes. You giggle. Jimin leans on the counter, silently talking with the girl to which she keeps responding with a laugh.

Jimin sits across you, setting the food on the table. His hand immediately grabbing his zinger. You watch him take the first bite while you unwrap yours, pretending to be as hungry as he was.

"How do you do that? Flirt all over the place?" You point your sandwich towards Jimin whose cheeks are bulging.

He swallows, eyes shutting to savor the satisfaction. "Oh, I'm not flirting. She was." He turns his head to the girl with a wide smile, then to you. "How do you do that? Hate on something you've never felt nor experienced?"

"Hm," resting your arms on the table, "I don't actually hate it anymore. This thing that we're doing, teaching me what people in love do, it's kinda fascinating."

His gaze alternates to you and his food. "There's more to this. This is what friends do, but what Seulgi and I did was so much more than just this."

You look down, taking a bite to ignore the weird emotion forming inside you.

"I mean what couples do. I know you're pretending I'm Jungkook and that's the thing, friends are great companion but when it's the person you love, time feels faster."

"I'm not actually pretending you're Jungkook," you confess, and you felt him lose his composure but he was quick enough to take it back.

"You seem to smile at me like I'm somebody else."

"I smile at you just fine," you take a sip of the Sprite beside your tray. "Anyways, do you already have something to send Yoongi?"

He nods. "Already took my masterpiece."

You roll your eyes. "Wish I could say the same. Exams are two days from now and I just gave up reviewing."

"I could study with you, I'll come over tomorrow."

"How is that gonna help me review?"

"I'm like the best study buddy ever. Have you written anything yet?"

You huff in disbelief. "No, inspiration's not coming to me."

Jimin moves away, mouth agape. "Y/n, look at me," and you did more than you already were, "I'm all the inspiration you need. Write something about how I smell good or how my eyes look when I talk, girls love to read that shit."

"First of all, you smell like every rotten fruits combined. Second, no. That's not what feature writing is about, I'm not gonna turn it into a John Green novel."

"Turn it into an erotica, let Yoongi jack off to it before rejecting it."

You snort, cheeks turning red. "You think he jerks off to erotica?" you ask in between laughs.

"I did, Fifty Shades of Grey chapter thirty-nine." He leans back, waiting for your reaction. "It was worth a wet page."

"I do not need details. Jimin, what the fuck?"

He raises his brows, chewing on his fries. Eating has never been more attractive. He smirks. "Hurry up eating." Jimin cleans his mouth with a tissue, slamming his fist on the table to rush you.

"Jesus, you wanted me to eat," you reply with your mouth full, crumpling the wrapper to slip it inside the empty cup.

The both of you leaves the place laughing, pushing each other on the way to his car — brother's car in the dark and empty parking lot. It was just the crickets, moderate hums of cars passing by, and your laughs, play fighting with each other. Before the car splits the both of you, Jimin pulls you to remain behind the vehicle.

"What?" He holds your arm in a careful manner, calming down from his giggles.

"I've never done this before," Jimin leads you to the driver's side, opening the door to reach for the radio. Leaving the car door open, Linger by The Cranberries made its way to your ears.

You feel your neck sets afire, you swear they've turned a bright pink that roamed to your cheeks. With wide eyes, questioning Jimin's actions. "You're not turning this into a coming of age film, are you?"

His palms glide to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Thank goodness the lot was empty, but you doubted maybe the girl Jimin was flirting with earlier can somehow see your bodies ridiculously swaying. That's the least of your worries, because Jimin's hands was electricity to your exposed skin. You decide to wrap your arms around his neck, not wanting to make it any more awkward and just going with the flow.

He blinks at you. "Yes, we certainly are." He purses his lips, you can only look.

Besides your swelling heart, your lips shake trying to suppress its cavernous grin. "So, this is what corny couples do?"

Jimin exhales through his nostrils, taking your hand to extend it to the side while he hugs you closer. "No, no. This is what we do, y/n."

You couldn't comprehend what he said, disregarding it by burying your head deep into his chest, inhaling his scent like making a memory, he does the same by digging his nose into your hair. You close your eyes to concentrate on the beat of his heart, just as fast as yours and synchronized perfectly.

"I've never done this before," he repeats and he feels you nod. "Have you?"

"No," you tell his chest. "Why would you think I've done it?"

His hot breath rolls on your scalp, enjoying the smell of your papaya shampoo. It goes on for a while, steady breathing no matter how fast both of your hearts rush. Then he lets go, a part of you already missing the feeling of his chest against your cheek.

"Can I just..." Jimin breaks, ignoring your question, his hand that used to intertwine yours holds your cheek, his grasp on your waist tightening. Your eyes were still, and he watches as though they were incomparable even when they're closed.

In a sharp push from behind you, fingers extending to push you further to his groin. Your eyes flutter open as his lips connect with yours. You pull away and you catch Jimin's eyes close, slowly opening them again.

"I'm sorry." He moves away, feeling horrible for just kissing you like that. Before he enters the car, you tug his arm, framing his face with your hands to pull him again back to your lips. He rakes his fingers on your back, just a little above your ass.

Feeling shy, the movement of your lips were subtle. But Jimin just devoured them, and you followed his sloppy kiss. He exhales heavily it sounded like a grunt, smiling in between. You wrap around him again, and he lifts his fingers to your nape. Pushing you towards the car, he jerks his hip and so did you, unfamiliar heat pooling between your thighs.

You thrust against him again, he grips you waist tighter only to pull away.

"You need to stop that," he purrs, giving you one last peck.

You followed his body, but he signals you to stop. Confused, you went to the other side and processed what he was trying to do. The kiss was too good to regret, it felt like an achievement rather. And the ride back to your house was unsatisfying, you didn't want to go home, you only wanted more. But Jimin leaves the moment he takes his bag, silence wrapping every second. No words exchanged after he stopped you from kissing him again, fazing you the whole night.

You spent your day memorizing at school, just happy that the teachers gave enough free time to let their students study for the upcoming exams. Except of course for Mrs. Cruz who went about Spanish adverbs.

Tuesday was boring, well, a little. It would've been extremely boring if the kiss last night didn't happen. Aside from flipping pages in the library while Sana sits comfortably beside you, your mind wanders why the fuck - why the fuck Jimin kissed you then stopped you. You poke Sana, intending to tell her about it, it doesn't matter if she can help, but she shakes your hand away and made a hissing noise. Slouching in your seat, you pick up your notes again, rereading each sentences.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Trying to get the definition of protein inside your head, but you're far from getting there when footsteps behind you felt closer. Please don't be him. But of course, destiny seems to love the idea of you being miserable.

"We need to talk," Jimin says right when you stand to face him, holding a brown teddy bear in his hand.

"No, dingus. She's with me," Sana protests, putting down her trig notebook.

"Actually, we need to really talk. Like really need to really talk, you know?" you reply, leaving your seat while Sana frowns.

Sana was only two steps away, yet Jimin continued with his statement.

"About the kiss," he begins. "I'm really sorry, I didn't know what I was doing. I shouldn't have done it."

"Right," you lie. "I also didn't know what I was doing. I was just thinking of Jungkook and I dived right in, I'm such an idiot. It was like one in the morning, I was hallucinating." You fake a giggle and Jimin furrows his brows.

"You were thinking of Jungkook?" he mutters, almost inaudibly. "I mean, right. Yeah, you're thinking of Jungkook, I should know ha ha."

"Let's just forget about it. It's dumb." You nod your head, and he bites his lip trying to ignore your gaze. "Is that for Seulgi?" Pointing towards the medium stuff toy, and he lifts it while scratching his nape.

"Nope, this is actually for you," he extends the toy forward and you uncertainly accept. "Are we still on tonight? You know? About the studying thing?"

You grit your teeth, pushing your thumbs roughly on the bear's stomach. "Of course, why wouldn't we be? Let's just forget about that thing last night, uhm... See you at five?"

Jimin finds you unbelievable, he couldn't even get over about the kiss ever since this morning but here you were, someone who's never been kissed before being so casual.

"Five it is." His lids drop, ignoring the prickly feeling as he walks away.

You release a huff, staring at the bear while Sana watches you with her mouth wide open.

"Wow, you're actually dating him."

You turn over to see her face, rolling your eyes. "Last thing on my list, okay?"

She shrugs.

It wasn't long 'till the sun sets, you were already in your pj's and this time, you wore a tight shirt to prevent Jimin from seeing your boring bra straps. You weren't even preparing the study materials, you were just sitting on the couch, tensed and dense, with ears waiting for the doorbell to finally ring.

Bracing yourself, you stare at the bear placed on the other side of the couch and it looks as though it's speaking right back at you. The doorbell rings, and you run to the door as fast as you could but you stopped before opening it, arguing with yourself whether to smile or not, pretending like you don't care that he's here.

"Hey," he clears his throat, "are you ready?"

"For what?"

He grins at your stupid question. "To study? What else are we gonna do?"

You shake your head, throwing your thoughts in a bin as you move away from the door, leaving him to close it. The heat beneath your thighs from your seat earlier comforts you, you're home and there's nothing to be nervous about — except you're home alone with Jimin and you have every reason to be nervous.

"What do study buddies do? I'm not really a fan of company," you confess as if he doesn't know yet.

"I don't know. I've never done it either." He laughs. "Let's just ask each other questions."

You nod, watching him sit a foot apart from you, positioning his black bag next to the couch.

"Oh," he expressed, looking at his gift that lies comfortably next to him. "Hello."

You place your thick Biology book on top of your lap, searching for questions you could ask him. "You ready?"

"When you are." He waits, rubbing his knee.

Fuck, there really was this stupid tension that won't go away even if you try. You breathe unsteadily, hoping your voice won't crack.

"What's a codon?"

He clicks his tongue. "It's a sequence of three nucleotides that corresponds to an amino acid. A full set of codons is called a genetic code." His voice was suave, completely unaware of your thoughts.

"Great, that's great. That's more than what a blank would need. Next question."

He nods.

"What's a DNA made up of?"

"Phosphate, 5-carbon sugar, and nitrogenous bases."

"Yes. Are you sure you need to review?"

"Yeah, it's just two questions I got right."

"Fine. What kind of bonds hold together the nucleotides within one one strand?"

"Special covalent bonds called phosphodiester bonds. Is that correct?"

"Yeah. This is unfair, you're in a science club."

"It's not just a science club. It's the Curious Minds Club."

You groan. "I was trying to forget that stupid name."

"Say what, Ms. Secretary of Mr. Darcy Fan Club."

"That's not the name of our club! It's Diverse Readers Literary Group."

"Oh, I forgot. You know why I forgot? It's boring."

"Dee-Ar-El-Gee. Sounds more professional than Curious Minds, it's like you're hosting a Disney show."

"DRLG? Sounds like a social worker group."

"Whatever. Your tiny brain won't understand."

He steals the book from your lap, flipping to a page you've never seen before. "What kind of bonds hold together the nucleotides within one strand?"

"Shit. Hydrogen bonds?"

"See? You got this. How many bonds do the nirogenous bases form?"

"A and T form 2... uh... hydrogen bonds while C and G form 3."

"You're just as qualified for the Curious Minds Club."

"Oh, no."

He laughs, dismissing your thoughts away. You find yourself breathing properly around him, forgetting the taste of his lips.

"Next question," he snaps his fingers, "how well do I kiss?"

You look at him for the first time in a while, his legs on the couch before you could even scold him for it. He has his arms on top of the couch, right above you. "Seriously?" was all you could say.

"Quick survey." You weren't kidding but it sounded like he was, though he anticipates your answer.

"It was great," you whisper, remembering it all again. How you thrusted onto him, tasting his sweet lips from the remnants of sprite, and how his smell didn't bother you a single bit.

"Just great?"

He shifts closer, and you turn your direction in front. "What do you expect me to say?"

"Did you really think of Jungkook?" You heard the tussle in his tone.

"Mhm," you recline. "Didn't you think about Seulgi?"

He laughs through his nostrils, the air gushing to your cheek. "Why would I think of her? I was kissing you. God, how oblivious can you get?"

"Well, maybe because you stopped me? You realized I'm not her so you stopped me."

It took a moment before he responded. "I didn't want you to stop. I just can't take you there."

"Take me where? Look, it's okay if you were thinking of Seulg-"

"My God, y/n. I was trying to control myself!"

"From what?"

"From fucking you," he half-yells.

There it was again, the fire building in you. Why did he have to bring this up again? You were close to forgetting everything - err, at least some of it.

"Y/n, I'm sorry if you felt like I was rejecting you. I can never do that." He scoots again. "Say something."

You had no clue what words you were trying to search for, all you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again. What do they taste like without the sweet drink lingering? How would it feel to kiss him in private? To kiss him in a comfortable place, somewhere no one can interfere?

There's only one way to find out.

"Then prove it."

He thinks for a moment before attaching his lips onto yours once again. It was like a taste you've been craving, and having his lips on yours again felt ecstatic. Without the drink, his lips tasted just the same, sweet and satisfying. He skims a hand to your thigh, while the other holds your nape. God bless the teenage hormones!

He pulls away, breathing raggedly. "On top of me." He taps your thigh and you oblige, sitting on his lap and returning your lips to his.

The kiss was running out, you want more. You want to feel more than just a kiss, it was insatiable. His sweatpants did no justice in hiding his hardening cock, softly poking on your entrance. But he kept his hands on your waist, trying his best not to grab your ass. You grunt, finally rolling your hips to feel that friction you've been needing.

He fails at controlling himself after hearing the noise you made, thrusting upwards to get the satisfaction he needed. His hand stops before the curved of your breast, needing an affirmation from you. For the mean time, he was entertaining himself by playing with your tongue. You earn a groan from him when you rub your pussy against the outline of his cock, he pulls away again to stare at his crotch, biting his lip.

"Did I do anything wrong?" you ask with so much worry.

"No, I just... I won't be able to stop if you keep doing that."

"Jimin, please," you beg, trailing his hands to your waiting breasts, moaning while you continuously rub yourself on him.

He watches you get yourself off with hooded eyes, his mouth open as he releases quiet moans himself. "You're doing so well, y/n, fuck." He pulls you again, biting your lower lip as he inserts one of his hand in your shirt, lifting your bra to pinch a nipple.

You were nearing your climax, and Jimin just kept watching without intention to take his clothes off. Slowing down, Jimin lifts your shirt right above your breasts, licking a nipple while he gropes the other.

You release a high-pitched whine, encouraging Jimin to twitch his dick. "Woah, you could do that?"

He giggles slightly, giving you a peck on the lips. "You're so adorable."

He thrusts again, pushing you further to your orgasm. Struggling to face him, he lowers your chin with his thumb, murmuring words you couldn't decipher at the moment, but they sounded comforting and sexy. With one last hump, muffling a loud moan in Jimin's shoulder, you find it hard to look in his eyes again. You could feel yourself throb in wetness, too ashamed to get off of Jimin only to find a wet spot on his gray sweatpants.

"It's okay, baby," he whispers as you pull away, resting back on your seat.

"Are you... Did you?" you stutter, currently having a hard time finding the right question to ask him.

He didn't. You saw the tip of his cock — it looks so good — bulging through the fabric, dry and desperate for attention.

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Nothing was fine for you, everything was embarrassing. You shouldn't have done that, you shouldn't have let your hormones get the best of you. You couldn't look him in the eyes, needing time to process your orgasm and what the hell you just did.

"I think you need to leave," you sternly command, "I need to-"

"I get it. Sorry." You regret telling him to leave because after his apology, he grabbed his things and actually left, giving you more the reason to regret everything.

The room was quiet, but you can still hear your reckless moans, wishing that the neighbors didn't hear any of it or else you're dead meat once your parents get home.  You glance at the teddy bear, immediately grabbing the soft toy to hug it.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

The proctor was Mrs. Cruz, the first to ruin your day. She walks a lot around the classroom for someone who's having back problems. From time to time, she'd have a sit behind the desk, typing slowly on her laptop keyboard. She would also readjust her thinly-framed glasses, tuck her dry dark hair behind her ear.

That's enough description of Mrs. Cruz, you're absolutely lost for words when it came to the unexpected essay. Who puts an essay in a Maths exam? Apparently, it's Mr. Uley. You've left a couple of blanks, and some were lacking solution. Mr. Uley also came up with the worst idea for an exam: right minus wrong.

Rolling the edge of the paper to find relief, you signaled to Sana who sits beside you, luckily. Leaning to the side, you slump your foot down ever so slightly so that Mrs. Cruz wouldn't notice. Sana looks at you, then to Mrs. Cruz who was busy finding a letter in her keyboard.

You mouthed, "Number six."

Sana furrows her brow, flipping through her pages to see her answer. She smiles, and you sigh inside your head, she has an answer.

"I didn't answer it," she whispers back, catching the crooked teacher's attention. Sana plays it cool, pretending to think while she rolls her pen in her fingertips.

Your world drops again, shit. You're most likely going to fail Trigonometry, and that means watching motivational videos on Youtube about blaming the education system and how it fails the students completely for being incompetent when you really just didn't study.

That was only the first exam, there were more to come. You have already lost your motivation, but you were confident to take Biology. You have all the reasons to be.

Jimin appears at the cafeteria from time to time, but you would ignore it. He was aware of how uncomfortable it have gotten between the both of you and he wasn't planning to make any move. Good thing Sana has stepped out of her diet and finally started to join you for lunch again. But it's not that much fun with Sana, because for every bite of your sandwich, she had to talk about how unhealthy it was and that you should change your diet too. But it's her or no one.

Well, Jungkook was one person to talk to other than Sana. Short talks with him aren't so bad, he was just too shy. You can't expect much from a tenth grade boy, but you've made a close friend in him.

Two days of examination felt longer than it should, and time for studying felt shorter before exams. The only thing you're having trouble with was coming up with a story. You missed Jimin and his scent, and you knew things would be better if your problem with him would just go away, but you can't bring yourself to talk to him and arrange things between your relationship. He wasn't doing any effort either to come talk with you.

Maybe it really is over. Maybe you really ruined everything. You can't blame it on your hormones itself, you wanted to cum on Jimin's lap, it was all on you. It was your choice, and you've come to the conclusion that you might have actually fallen for the school publication photographer. Shit, you tell yourself.

You shut your laptop, frustrated for not finishing yet again another draft. You decided to fill your stomach instead of forcing out a drabble, it always ends well when you're munching on something sweet. When you reached downstairs, your Dad was cheering for Christiano Ronaldo again. ESPN must've ran out of ideas and just kept showing reruns of the same game, still your dad was entertained by them even after long hours of working.

He glances at you while you open the fridge, unbothered to ask you how was school. When the door rings, you dropped the box of leftover donuts. You were a little hopeful of who it could be.

Seeing your dad remain in the same position of the couch, you proceeded to the doorstep with a glazed donut in your hand. It's not him, but it sure was a surprise to have Sana visit you during this ungodly hour for a school night. She's got her hair straightened and fixed, wearing a white skin-tight dress that stops on her mid-thighs. She looked glamoured up.

"The hell are you doing here?" you asked the blondie while the donut melts in your mouth. Your Dad turns for a second, but he goes back to watching.

"I'm picking you up, dummy. Daniel is hosting a party, you should definitely come."

"What? No, I'm busy."

"You're not busy. Exams are over so let's have a celebration. Your boyfriend's gonna be there."

"He's not my boyfriend! I couldn't care less if Jimin will be there, can you let me be?" Yes, you actually cared that Jimin will be there. You just can't get the idea of him having fun while you are left here confused and still thinking about last time.

Of course he was over it. You were just another girl he had on his dick. You thought you would've memorized Jimin's tactics by now, but you're still as naive as he knows you would be. Your lids lightened against your eyes, a tingly feeling creeping inside you but not in a good way. You could float and fall at the same time.

"Let's go to this stupid fucking party." You swore your dad's head turned, but that's the least of your worries.

You rush to your room, picking up whatever you find sexy, and immediately throwing it on. You wanted to be unexpected and spontaneous, everything Jimin thought you wouldn't be. When you wind up to the party, his mouth is gonna drop on the floor while you grind on some jock's crotch. Maybe you'll regret it in the morning, but you've already done enough of regrettable stupid things in a span of a week. What's one more stupid mistake?

Things don't always go as planned, that's why you're sitting next to Hoseok, a senior like yourself from another school, you can't remember. But the discussion was great while Sana plays Truth or Dare with the band geeks. He was in the middle of talking about his hiking with his very wealthy family, and you were in the middle of falling asleep hoping he won't notice your lids dozing off.

You've never caught a sight of Jimin in the party, and you've already come to the conclusion that Sana just said that to make you come. You hate the fact that she was successful in her attempt.

Irritation brushed your nerves, keeping you awake as you stare deeper into Hoseok's beautiful smile. You wanted to make your plan come true whether Jimin was here or not — which in this case, not.

Whoever was in charge of music, you were thankful. It was probably an indie party song, somewhere around Grouplove's genre. Now you were throwing your hands around Hoseok, his smile disappearing and turning into a smirk. You felt dirty, what has high school become?

It wasn't that one glass of tequila that made you sway in front of Hoseok, you just wanted to take your mind off of Jimin. You hiss at the thought of him, placing a soft kiss on Hoseok's neck. He pulls you close, but it didn't feel like how Jimin pulled you that night in the lot. It felt cold, Hoseok's hand wasn't homely. His scent was probably Old Spice, you used to love that scent, you could smell it from Jungkook back then.

This wasn't working. For the first time in your high school years, you've failed yourself to accomplish something — aside from your Trig exam. Hoseok wasn't grinding himself and you appreciate the chivalry. He was just sorta enjoying your sloppy tongue against his neck, and he loved the way you were cutely dancing in front of him.

It wasn't long 'till his hand trails down to your ass though, and he was gripping it tightly. Before you could react, he was moving away. And when you looked at him, he was staring behind you. A familiar hand traces your waist, and a sweet fragrance travels your nose.

"I didn't expect you to be here," Jimin speaks from behind before you turn to face him. Hoseok was gone and you didn't bother.

"Get your hand off me, Jimin." He doesn't let go, only gripping the curve of your waist tighter. He was holding a sippy cup in his other hand, moving to your front to get a better view of you.

"What did I do wrong?" In all your honestly, nothing. You pushed him away and he did well, but you just wished he could read your mind during that time like he always does.

"How was exams for you?" You drop the topic, trying not to think of your embarrassing "cumming undone" moment. He sips in the most attractive way. You remain your arms crossed.

"I think I did horrible. I'm pretty sure you did well, baby," he slurs, obviously drunk.

When his breath reached your nostrils, you can't deny the way you throbbed for his lips to just latch onto your neck.

"Don't baby me," you irked, earning a chocolate laugh from him.

"Why not?"

"Because you're drunk."

"What made you think I'm drunk? I'm very much sober." He grips you tighter, and you didn't insist, only attaching your hips to his groin. "I'm just lazy talking." He bites his lip, watching how your hips teased the front of his fly.

"Why did you leave?" you asked.

"I didn't want to, y/n. I just know you felt uncomfortable and I don't want to push you further."

There was silence before you could process his answer, nothing proper came up as he molds his hand to your ass. He was confident when he's drunk. Unlike Hoseok, it felt right.

So much caressing happened, heavy petting. And Jimin being the suspect, you can't help yourself. You just somehow found yourself tangled with him on the way upstairs looking for a room to do things seventh grade you despised. Fuck relationships and young love, right? But if Jimin could make your hormones rage like a sexually-deprived normal teenager, why not try?

Whoever Daniel was, he's one hell of a rich guy. Losing your virginity in a luxurious palace looking room sounds better than losing it in the backseat of a car after prom night. Good thing Jimin had good control of his dick, or else you would have been pumped in his brother's car at a parking lot in front of a KFC.

You pushed your thoughts away as Jimin had his fingers at the hem of your underwear, tugging it down slowly. The air fills the gap, for the first time in your life, your pussy ached out of lust. Being the patient man, he looks you in the eye for a second, waiting for a word.

"Do you really want this?" he asks, his index already forming circles around your inner thigh. "I'm so fucking hard for you right now. If you're not sure, tell me before I shove my dick right in your pussy."

You were never a fan of porn, not even a single bit. You would never waste time on horrible actors, but Jimin's words were straight out of a porn script. Yet they didn't draw you back, instead you squirmed under his fingertips.

"Please, Jimin."

He buries himself in your slit, latching his tongue against your clit.

"Oh," you exclaimed. It felt like that evening you were on Jimin's lap, except more intense and raw. There's nothing more that you want than for him to do it again.

"You like that?" he asked, but you ignored. His tongue was gentle, placing kitten licks on your sensitive bud, having you arched your back like a professional gymnast. Both his hands traveled to your breasts, groping them amidst the fabric. You place your hands on top of his, it felt romantic to hold them for reasons you can't explain. He leaves one of your breasts, feeling him near his finger in your entrance.

Your eyes widened, jumping at the sensation of something entering you. He affirms you by tightening his hold on your hands. Again, massaging your clit with his plump luscious lips.

"Baby," he whispers to your pussy, as if making a bond with it. Enjoying the curving of a single digit in your hole, he slowly eased in another one. "Are you taking it well?"

"Yes, yes. God, yes." You grope his hair, pushing him to your clit and you feel him smirk.

He adds another once you got comfortable, the sting passing away after a few more pumps. When he feels you nearing again, he pulls away. He winks as he removes his pants, kicking it down until his member sprung out.

You have seen a dick, of course. Well, if anatomy illustrations count. It looked scary, but it was Jimin. Thick and veiny is the proper way to describe it, he was right. Seulgi would never break up with him because of his dick, it wouldn't even make the list of why she had broken up with him. You stared at it for a while longer while Jimin prepares himself by putting on a show.

He positions himself in between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock in your cunt. He kisses you, muffling your moans as he eases inside, in a very gentle way as if you were a butterfly that landed on the tip of his finger. Though it was tearing you apart, Jimin finds a away to make you comfortable by rolling his tongue against your jaw. It helped only a little, and when he moved smoothly, you whimper which he takes notice of.

"Jimin, wait," with such an embarrassed tone, but he comforted you by staring into your eyes, stopping himself no matter how hard it was. "I'm sorry. I just need—"

"No worries, I'm okay. Do you want to stop or not?"

"No, just wait."

He nods, the air he emits heating your face. He stares at your teary eyes, falling more than ever. He's never seen anything so precious, if only he could take a picture of such moment, but there are things that the camera can't see, much like words can't express.

You wrap your arms around him, signaling him to continue. He doesn't disappoint, he pushed again deep inside you, releasing a shaky groan to your ear. Every thrust felt euphoric, not a single one didn't give you pleasure. You clench around him, earning a nasally exhale from him.

"Chim-ah..." you trail, clawing at the skin of his back. His face wrinkled, and it was the sexiest thing you've seen. "Feels so good."

He sped up his pace, and just like before, you were cumming around him. But he motivates you, unbothered whether he was finished or not. He sends you to your orgasm, legs clinging tighter around him. He watches you bite your lip to suppress the loud moan, still thrusting harder to ride the high.

Then he throws himself beside you, and this time you wanted to return the favor. You get on your knees which had Jimin's eyes flutter open, yet still hiding his excitement. Once you grip his length, he bites his bottom lip, trying to remain his calm. He focuses on you, propping on his elbows to see you better.

"You don't have to do this," he comforted.

"I want to. I'm no expert so please—"

"Shh, everything you do is sexy," he whispered, placing his thumb on your cheek to give you the warmth you needed.

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself. You slide a thumb over the head of his shaft before rolling your tongue from the bottom to the top. I should've watched porn more, I'm such an amateur.

Jimin saw the doubt in your eyes, giving you a sly smile before he speaks. "It feels good."

You swaddle his balls, finally pushing your lips further down his cock, softly sucking. You can taste yourself, it felt dirty doing something like it, but when you saw Jimin's eyes pinned on you while his face crunches in pleasure, you couldn't help but be motivated. You pumped the rest of his cock, latching you tongue on every visible vein which had Jimin grunting. You hollowed your cheeks while your tongue ripples inside, tickling the edges of his cock.

"Shit, y/n. You're going fucking—" he groaned, not being able to articulate proper sentences.

Then he explodes right into your mouth without a warning except for a hand in your hair, thrusting his hips upwards which made you gag. It was salty and bitter—not really your definition of swallowable. You still gulped it down, and Jimin laughs at your reaction.

Patting the space beside him, you slump down. You've always thought sweaty tangled bodies were disgusting, but it was actually comforting and warm.

That's the first night of hearing Jimin's cute little snores.

A flash to your face wakes you up, and through heavy lids you saw Jimin in his usual black pants, topless of course. You panicked this time, not because of your sleeping face but because you were just as naked.

"Jesus, Jimin! Delete that!" you demanded, the boy only grins.

"Just for me, trust me." He sits beside you on the bed, giving you a smack on the lips.

Your breath smelled like the night before, but Jimin didn't care. Having his warm body right next to yours was different, and even though your values don't really support what you were doing around him, you still wrapped them around his waist. Jimin does the same, the sound of his breathing calmed your thoughts.

You've always wondered why couples spend a lot of time together, like don't they run out of things to say? However, the silence in the room spoke something to you. No words need to be exchanged to let each other know the thoughts of the other.

Jimin gave you a ride home (with his brother's car) at four in the morning, kissing you goodbye, leaving you smiling as you walk to your room. You want to see him again, maybe even have a breakfast with him.

Wait, what? I'm not in love with him! This is just a huge crush.

You diminish the smile, proceeding to the shower to wash away his scent. Shaking your head as you think about actually falling in love. No! You're too young for that, right? Though the hot shower didn't really help you scrub the emotions off, it did give you the time to deny.

English was dry, and so were the other classes. If only Sana came today, maybe you would learn another nutrition fact about your usual chicken sandwich. Also it's not to your surprise that Jimin joins you for lunch and gave you a chocolate box. You've known him for years and he even went as far as buying a bouquet for Seulgi as a gratitude after their sexual escapades.

"You're giving me Ferrero Rocher for fucking you last night?"

He snickers, one that could make your cheeks burn. "Can you— What's wrong with you?"

"You're acting like I'm a new person. Jimin, I'm still your best friend," you say without expecting your tone to be as high.

"Babe, just open it for me." You roll your eyes at the nickname.

You lift the lid of the heart-shaped box, a note taped in the middle of the lid surprises you. Swooning a little, not trying to show Jimin your actual reaction.

“Do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my prom date?”

"No," you sighed. "I mean, no way this is real."

Jimin's gaze falls over, that look of hurt surrounding his face. "Hey, I'm not rushing you."

"This is just stupid, no offense. You know me, Jimin. I know you more than anything. I know you still think about her," you protest, not daring to look him in the eyes and just staring at the note.

"I'm not forcing you, y/n. I'm just offe-"

You scoffed, but you kept your composure. "I'm not going. It will be a waste of time. I'm really sorry. You can just ask her instead."

"I like you, y/n. I don't even think about her when I'm with you." You grew nervous at the thickness of his voice.

"Because that's what it is. You move on easily because you're not really in love, kids like us don't know the meaning of love. Stop pretending that for every sex you've had, you're in love."

"Jimin," Seulgi appears behind him, clearing her throat.

"I'm gonna go," you tell him with a broken voice, giving a thin smile towards Seulgi. You take the box half-heartedly, chocolates can't go to waste.

That was the last time you spoke to Jimin and from time to time, he'd give a call but you never answered any of them. Things slowly went back to normal and finally, you've finished your feature before Min Yoongi spams you with e-mails. The outcome never really satisfied you, but it was better than nothing.

In my long years of high school, the word "love" had never crossed my mind. A week ago, I was assigned to write about falling in love at a young age. But the truth is, falling for someone during these early years will never happen. Love takes so much more than just a spoken word. I know, you're in love with your partner right now, but let me tell you this one thing: you're not. These butterflies, all the fluttering inside our stomachs, they're most likely just happiness and excitement. College will come, and all the emotions we feel now will be forgotten. So, what's the point in falling in infatuation? Save yourself the emotional roller coaster, love in high school is the last thing you should think of. There's so much more to love in the world, like baseball or cheerleading. It doesn't always have to be a person. The right time will arrive, and you're actually going to fall in love. But not when we're still struggling to solve for the x, or when we can't come up with an essay. Love is everywhere, but our young little hearts won't recognize that just yet. Just like what Ricky Nelson had said, "We haven't the right to decide for ourselves, dear, what's black and what's white."

"This sucks." Sana slams the paper on the lunch table, giving you a judging look. "I can't believe Yoongi allowed this to be published."

You roll your eyes, cringing at the sight of your highly-disliked feature. "I know, okay? No need to remind me."

"Well, everybody in campus hates you now for thinking that their relationship is all just a joke to you. It's not like they care about your opinion, just that they feel humiliated. You could have done better." Her expression was disappointed, aware of what you're hiding. "You know Jimin submitted your picture right? The one in the cafe sayin-"

"It's published. What can I do?" You cut her off before she could make you feel bad about Jimin, munching on your chips as you slouch on your seat.

Sana puts her hand behind your back, straightening your posture. "I know you can write better. You're just trying to run away from your inspiration."

You give her a dirty look before speaking with your mouth full. "Shut up, I'm not running from anything."

She laughs, caressing your back. "Oh, my y/n, you can't lie from me." She smiles, her perfect teeth annoying you.

"Who cares if they don't like my feature? They go ahead and write their own, I don't care."

"You're so narrow-minded. Are you sure you're not coming to prom? I can still get you a dress in case you change your mind."

Right, you almost forgot. Prom was tomorrow, and you're kind of regretting not going after finding out that Jungkook will be there to serve the food. But seeing Jungkook wouldn't be worth it if you will be seeing Jimin dance with Seulgi all night long.

"I'm not changing my mind, Sana." You stood, gathering your stuff before leaving Sana behind in the cafeteria, not wanting to talk about how excited she is for prom.

You spent the next day watching reruns on ESPN much like your father, nodding along as he complains how a professional athlete couldn't make a single goal. He was too absorbed by the sports in front of him, he couldn't notice the distress in your eyes. There's no hope from your mother either who was busy finishing her reports. You groan.

Then it's prom night, you flop down to your messy bed, staring at the untouched chocolate heart-shaped box Jimin had given you two weeks ago. You breathe deeply, pulling yourself from the bed to approach the partly golden box. When you open it again, the message was still there—it's not like it's going to disappear over time. But it felt like yesterday, the chocolate looked good as new, and even smelled as sweet as... him.

You jump through your skin when you hear your mom opens the door without giving a quick knock, making you jolt the box to the floor.

"Mom!" you yell, and she broke into a fit of laughter.

"Sorry, hun. What would you like for dinner?" she asks in her velvet voice, warming the cold night.

"I'm not really eating. You and Dad can decide." Your eyes wander around the room, throwing your ego to ask her a question. "Mom?"

She comes back to the door, leaning on the door frame with one of her hands on her waist. "Yes?"

"This will sound really stupid, but" — you exhale — "how did you know you were in love with Dad?"

She giggles, making you feel more ashamed of the question. She moves to your side, sitting beside you before she speaks. "Well, I didn't know it. I felt it. One day, I hated the sound of his snores, then I woke up next realizing I can't live without them. There's so many things I hated about your dad, but I still love what I hate about him. By the way, your dad had the worst perfume back in the day, but now I can't breathe without it."

You chuckle, suppressing the twinge of dismay filling your mind. "I feel like I made a mistake of letting this boy go."

She gasps. "Why didn't you tell me about this boy?"

"That's not really the point right now," you laugh.

"That's what kids do. You guys make mistakes and you keep making 'em. If you love him, then go for it, honey."

You choke. "You think I love him?"

"Don't you? You don't have to love a person to chase 'em, you chase 'em because you want to love them." She sighs. "You're young, you're not supposed to make the perfect decisions just yet. Don't stress about whether you love this boy or not. If it doesn't work out, you can use the lesson for the next."

"That's more than I need, Mom. Thank you."

She gives you a squeeze on your shoulder before leaving you room.

I screwed up.

You pick the box from the floor, and a picture falls out from it. It took you a while before you could analyze it. A black and white photo of a girl reading a book, very similar to the one in the museum. What caught your attention is you knew who it was, the clothes, the book, the face. It was you back in eighth grade during the book fair, you had your eyes pinned on Wuthering Heights.

With heart racing, you flip the picture to reveal the message behind it.

"To the first girl I fell in love with :)"

Your mouth was left open, frozen in place as you try to process your emotions. You're the girl Jimin was talking about, you were Jimin's eighth grade crush. He had feelings for you just like you had feelings for him back then, and it all came back when you started hanging out with him again.

You wasted no time getting into your hoodie, running downstairs which made your mom look at you in horror.

"Mom, I need the car keys. I made a mistake." Without a nod from her, you grab the car keys and ran to her forbidden Civic.

It's been long since she have let you borrow the car, but it's now or never. It seemed like the perfect timing to tell him how you actually feel, under chandeliers and surrounded by young couples dancing in love. You weren't even sure if he decided to show up to prom as well after your hurtful rejection in front of Seulgi. Or maybe he had changed his mind, choosing to take your advice and actually taking Seulgi to prom.

You brushed the negativity off, pulling in Chelsea Hotel. A parking valet stopping you from entering the hotel, but you shove him from you, quickly running towards the venue. Poor guy just trying to do his job.

You exhale, trying to catch your breath. The room glimmers, a disco ball instead of a chandelier spins on the ceiling. You roll your eyes, your school has always been a disappointment when it comes to decoration. You seek through the students, searching for the pale boy. You only found Sana who was already waving at you, eyes shinning in joy. You give her a sly smile, continuing to look for Jimin. And you found him by the photo booth, approaching him with tiny steps.

"Hi," you greeted.

He looks up from the camera and your words were already backing away, throat thinning when you meet his eyes.

"I am sorry for what I said. I was being narrow and stupid. I shouldn't have said those, you know?" You voice cracks in every word, and he goes back to his camera. "Jimin, please."

You saw him suppress a smile, but it wasn't enough. He was still fiddling with his tripod, fake fixing the stand.

"Fine!" you blurt, walking away from him.

You caught a lot of eyes staring at your outfit as you approach the stage, and you felt nauseated when you reached for the microphone. A blond girl furrows her brows at you, pointing towards her bandmates.

"What are you playing?" you confidently ask.

"Excuse you?" she returns, annoyance obvious in her tone.

"Trust me, I'll let you sing. Just tell me what song are you playing."

"Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer," she says without certainty.

"Look, I can get you in front of the page of our next publication issue. Everyone in the school will know your band, just do me one favor."

She turns to her bandmates and they all nodded. "Spit it out."

"Can you please... play the intro while I have my speech?"

"You got it."

When you said that, you didn't expect them to actually play the intro immediately. But there's no turning back, all eyes were already on you except for Jimin. Everybody gave you looks, obviously aware that you were the one that wrote that hateful feature.

You pat the mic, feedback traveling through everybody's ears. Then you sighed again, prepping yourself.

"I know I've hurt some of you because of what I wrote. I'm sorry to everyone. I was the one wrong, I shouldn't belittle these emotions because we're young. I've come to the realization that whatever we feel now will always matter even in college, even when we're old. Falling in love today doesn't make anyone less of a person, we're young and we're supposed to make mistakes. Fall in love now and fall in love again, it's how stories are made. And to that person I specifically broke, I think I like you." You breathe, picking in your nails. "So, Park Jimin, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

You bit your lip, waiting for the audience's response to your corny speech. And your back straightens when they started clapping, some even yelled "Fuck yeah!" which made you laugh in embarrassment. Your eyes couldn't find Jimin at the moment, and you gave blondie the microphone, letting her continue her performance. You have some deals to make with Yoongi for the next front page.

You walk down the stairs, trying to calm the race of your heart. A hand pulls your waist, plump luscious lips devouring yours. Sweet fragrance entering your senses, you knew who it was.

"That was the cringiest shit you've said," he comments. "I knew you would come."

You roll your eyes. "I think I owe you a meal."

Jimin puts his hand at the small of your back, directing you towards the photo booth. "No, you owe me a story."

(unedited)

[kimnjss]

get even | ksj

⤑  series: sugar free

⤑ genre: angst, rich!jin x artist!reader, college au.

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 4.4K

⤑ warnings: humilation (it’s not a kink here tho), suggestive topics, nudity... (this lowkey pretty tame, ngl).

⤑ A/N: a little late, but i literally just finished this and did like a half ass job editing it, buuut i really wanted to get this out bc OHMYGOD (you’ll see) - don’t forget to let me know what you think, your feedback is my favorite! x

A bet. The second the words left Yuna's lips you felt your blood begin to boil. Was that what all of this was? Why Jin had been so persistent to be around you, to get you to like him... so he could win a measly 100 bucks from his friends. That was it?

 You felt sick to the stomach, on the verge of screaming at the top of your lung. How could you allow yourself to be so stupid? To not be able to see past the cheap facade, protect yourself like you had done countless times before. To think you were slowly starting to melt, starting to see yourself becoming comfortable around him. Smiling a bit too wide when texting him into the late hours of the night, moving a little too fast when his name was lighting up your screen.

 He had been playing you for a fool this entire time and the only thing you could think of was how could you get even. At this point, he had no idea that you were on to him. Still thought that everything was going according to his plan, boy was he wrong. You were going to get him back, flip the tables so he was the one left licking his wounds. Who the hell did he think he was?

 The idea came to you a few hours after hanging up with Yuna. The anger that had blinded you earlier finally subsiding enough for you to properly check the messages that had been flooding your inbox in the time since. Most of which were from the group chat of your best friends. Making a mental note to tell Yoongi about his role in this bet as well, you immediately clicked on the latest message from Jin.

[15:59] seokjin: did you pick a movie for tonight, yet?? i saw something you might like.

 Instantly you're scoffing at the reminder that you were supposed to be out with this man in a little over an hour. You had actually been looking forward to this date, a more relaxed setting where you two could truly be yourselves around each other. The hell with that now. 

 Quickly, you were typing back your response. Ignoring the fact that it was coming in three hours too late. He could wait. If he felt like he could use you as a ploy in this stupid game with his friends. Then he could wait a few hours for your reply.

[18:12] to seokjin: oooh, surprise me then! im getting ready right now, see you in a bit?

 Rolling your eyes at your overly enthusiastic you're standing from your position on your bed, moving to your dresser to pick something to wear tonight.

 When you were in your early teens and just getting to know Namjoon and his friends, not a day would go by without an argument between you and Jungkook to take place. He always felt the need to try and one-up you, always had an opinion on what you were saying, and never believed you were as smart as him.

 The fact you got into your shared middle school solely on recommendation had nothing to do with his thought conclusion. Anyway, something that young Jungkook found extremely amusing was pranking. Loved the thought of tricking someone to the point of them getting upset only for him to shout: 'Relax, it's just a prank.' It was his favorite pass time, especially when you were involved.

 Quickly, you were picking up on his tactics and soon enough you were able to counter all of his 'well thought out' deceptions in a way he was the one with the egg on his face in the end. Fast forward years later, you and Jungkook hardly argued as much and he found more interested in girls than pranks... but that didn't mean you forgot how to play along.

 The forced learned deception would be applied tonight. How dare that boy think he could pull a fast one on you and get off scratch free? Yeah, right. There was going to be hell to pay. And you were going to make sure of it.

 Despite the fact, this was only a movie date and you could pretty much dress down when sitting in a dark room for hours, what you wore held a big part of your plan for tonight. Of course, you didn't want to make it obvious that your goal was to turn heads. Something subtle but undeniably sexy that his jaw was dropping at the first sight of you.

 It had been a while since you wore your bright red mini skirt and it fit tighter than you remembered. Deciding the tightness fit the theme of tonight, you're tucking your long sleeve black turtleneck into the skirt; admiring the way the form-fitting material highlights the natural curves of your body. 

 A large heart belt to give your waist that extra snatch and short black boots to tie it all together. Yeah, this guy is not going to know what hit him once he caught sight of you – you were sure of that much.

 Makeup had never really been something that you cared a whole lot for. Loved the way a bare face felt as opposed to being caked up for hours. Tonight was an exception though, you had to play the part, right?

 One short, way too detailed YouTube tutorial later, and you're being interrupted by the knock on your front door. With a final swipe of lip gloss onto your softened lips, you're moving from the mirror to answer the door.

 “Oh! Are you early or am I running late?” Jin stands on the other door, a large hoodie covering his slender figure and black jeans clinging to his legs. He eyes you shamelessly, seeming to have missed the words that had just left your lips. Bingo! “Here come in, I'm almost done,” You're turning, leading him into your house acting as if you hadn't noticed the way his eyes dropped when he thought your back was too him.

 Too freaking easy. Guys were too easy, it was sad.

 Just for good measure, you lead him to your couch; delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist. You're gesturing him to sit with a gentle tug of his wrist and his body moves accordingly, eyes never once lifting from you.

 “I'll just be another minute,” You promise, watching as he pushes a smile on his face before nodding. You make your way down the corridor and into your bedroom, honestly finished with getting ready but not against making the boy sweat for a little bit.

 Ten full minutes pass by of you just sat on your bed, scrolling through your phone before you're deciding that it was time to go. Jin stands as soon as you're exiting the room, composure back in check – that familiar smug look settled on his features once again. He spares you only a single glance as if he hadn't been full-on drooling when you first had opened the door.

 “You ready?” His voice sounds deeper than you remember and you can't help but wonder if he was forcing it in hopes to impress you. Not caring much to mull over the question, you're nodding your head. The heels of your boots clack against the hardwood floor as you move to meet his side.

 Jin thoughtlessly slides his arm around your waist, a simple gesture that pulls an annoying reaction from you. He leads you out of the front door, waiting patiently on the steps as you lock up.

 “No, Minho?” You're asking, noticing the absence of the shiny SUV parked on the curb. Jin is shaking his head, digging into his front pockets for something you can only assume is a key due to the metallic jingle filling your ears. “Gave him the night off... it's just me and you,” He grins and you smile back, of course, your master plan in mind and in no way a natural reaction to the sight of his contagious smile.

 He's pulling a silver key from his pocket, clicking the remote and you nearly jump at the sound of the beep. Bright lights illuminating the headlights of the sport's car parked just a few feet from your building. “Is that your car!?” Wondering out loud and neglecting to check the excitement in your tone.

 Jin watches with a knowing grin as you make your way over to the vehicle, cautious palms sliding over the fresh paint. You couldn't believe what you were staring at. A 2019 Alfa Romeo Giulia in the shade midnight black; an all-red leather interior... were you going to be sitting in that? This was what he was going to be taking you to the movies in?

 “It's nice, right? Got it for my birthday last year... a little bored of it now, though.” You hear the cocky tone of his voice, the 'I'm-so-much-richer-than-you' twang that has your blood boiling. With a roll of your eyes, hands now stiff and dropping to your side you step back.

 “It's alright,” You say with a shrug, pulling the passenger's side door open and sliding in before he even has the chance to reach for it. No point in keeping up with his fake gentlemen facade, you could very well open your own doors.

 Despite your slight shift in mood, Jin is still smiling. Not thinking twice about you not letting him open up the door you and sliding in on his side. Instantly, he's pulling his seat belt on; twisting the key in the ignition and you melt at the hum of the engine coming to life.

 “What's the movie you picked?” You're asking as a few moments of silence passed, the only sound that had filled the car in the past eight minutes was the radio that he liked to keep on low for some reason. 

 His gaze is shooting in your direction, eyes wide as if he hadn't expected to hear your voice just then. You offer up a gentle smile, blinking your eyes cutely up at him as you wait for his response. Jin's adam's apple bobs as he turns his attention back onto the road.

 “It. Have you already gone? It came out a few weeks ago,”

 You're shaking your head, ignoring the fact that if you had been the one to choose the movie for tonight – that would have been your choice. Even if you had already seen it, horror films were at the top of your list of faves... which was weird, because you had it on pretty good standing that Jin wasn't into scary movies.

 Either way, it wasn't like you planned on having him pay all that much attention to the movie in the first place.

 As expected, Jin paid for both your ticket and his. He purchased a large bucket of popcorn for the two of you to share and a couple of drinks to counter to salty effects of the treat. What a shame he was actually a douche bag, otherwise you would've swooned at his catering.

 Seats smartly chosen in the back row, where you could see the entire movie screen clearly but avoid being spotted by the other moviegoers. With the risk of being obvious, you lifted the armrest that divided your two seats long before the movie had started. Forty minutes in and several popcorn jerking jumps after, you were taking advantage of your early decision.

 “It's a bit cold in here, don't you think?” You spoke with a pout, eyes lifting to grasp his attention. He was staring at you, head shaking in a nod and you could tell he was searching his mind for ways to make you more comfortable. How sweet. “Should we sit a bit closer?” Voice laced with velvet, you're already scooting over the gap before he can disagree.

 Not like he planned to, the moment Jin's realizing what's going on; he's moving to close any left space between you two. His arm lifting to wrap around your shoulders as he tucks your body into his side. The movement so fluid and natural that you can't help but wonder how many times he's pulled the same move – no prompting needed.

 A few moments passed with your body cradled in his arms, his warmth surrounding you, and the strong scent of his cologne intoxicating you. You had noticed this the first time the two of you went out, Jin was well put together in his clothes and he always smelt so good. Not sure what it was, but the way that he smelt never failed to make your stomach flip.

 But it wasn't the time for that. Right now, it was time to put your perfect revenge plan into action. Delicately, the tips of his fingers ran over the swell of his chest, admiring the way the muscle felt underneath your digits. Dropping your hand lower, you spread your palm against his abs. 

 He had been so invested in the movie during your initial contact, that he hadn't noticed the feeling of your fingers on his chest... or chose not to acknowledge it. Now that you were tracing the ridges of his abs, his eyes were on you, slightly wide as he tried to figure exactly what you were playing at.

 You shot him an innocent smile, the tip of your index finger running over the curve of his bellybutton. Flinching at the contact, he blinked hard; breath caught in his throat as he waited. “I never knew you were so... strong,” Voice coming out in a purr, the tip of your finger trailing up the middle of his stomach. 

 Jin visibly gulped, confusion dancing over his brow as he shifted beside you. Not sure how to react to your sudden shift in behavior. You didn't care to slow down, to explain it to him – this was what he wanted, right?

 “I'm finding it so hard to pay attention to the movie,” Scooting closer to him, your hand drops down onto his thigh. Giving the muscle a light squeeze as you lean your body up, lips inches from his pink ears. “Do you want to know why?” You whispered, lips gently brushing over his lobe.

 “W-why?” He cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat; trying to avoid looking in your direction. If he was to turn his head, your lips would be mere inches apart. Just a simple twitch forward and you'd be kissing. No way he'd be able to keep his cool if that were to happen, so he kept his gaze forward. Not risking it.

 Fine with you, you weren't done playing. Thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of his pants, mouth closing around his earlobe. You felt him shudder, making a smirk rise on your lips. “I can't stop thinking about you... all the things we could be doing instead of being cooped up in here...”

 Jin was no fool, not the one to waste any time. If you were acting like this, saying that you were down there was no way he was going to pass up an opportunity like this. He'd just catch the movie when it came out on Netflix. “Should we go then?” He's mustering up all the courage he can manage to turn his head, dark eyes finding yours in the dim-lit room. 

 A bit surprised with his quick agreement, you're not letting it show on your face. You're grinning at his words, standing from your seat, and taking hold of his hand. Jin allows you to pull him up from his seated position, his hand landing on your hip. “Wait, slow down.” He's whispering, being considerate to the people scattered you.

 “You sure?” Head nodding before you had a chance to mull over his thought process in checking up at you. Reaching for his free hand, you're wiggling out of his grasp and tugging him behind you out of the theater.

 Both of you moving so fast, laughter slipping past his lips at your haste and you can't help but join in. You can feel the gaze of the people around you, but you don't care. Don't even bother to present an apology too wrapped up in enjoying yourself and trying to push away the warmth rising in your chest. Now wasn't the time for that.

 Jin's stopping you the second the cool night air is hitting your exposed skin. His hand twisting in your grasp until he's able to take hold of your hand. Easily, he's pulling your body into his and flashing you that heart-stopping smile of his. Chests pressed together, breaths mixing and you hadn't realized you had been breathing so heavily before.

 Your heart hammers against your chest as you stare up at him, his eyes searching yours. He's slow with the way he closes the negative space between the two of you, his hands lifting to cup your cheeks. And he's leaning in, lips finding yours... the smile breaking onto your lips before you have the chance to fight it.

 He's kissing you so slowly and delicately as if you were made of glass. Hands cool against your heated cheeks and you can feel his smile over your mouth. It was all becoming too much, your heart getting too involved over a stupid kiss... this was not part of the plan!

 You're pulling away at the feeling of his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, looking up at him with your lip caught between your teeth; trying to look as sexy as possible in this situation. “Come on, we'll have much more fun once we're alone...” Discreet in the way you gesture to the family of five that were making their way into the theater.

 Jin's following you without a word, the grin never falling from his plump lips. He's leading you this time, quick steps are taken to his car where he opens your door for you. You get comfortable against the seats, watching as he jogs around to the other side to slide in beside you.

 All giddy and smiley, excited that he was about to get some. That he was about to win this stupid bet he and his friends thought would be a good idea... boy, he had no idea what was coming.

 Thick laughter leaves your lips as you stumble into your bedroom with tangled feet. Jin's lips haven't left your skin since you were pushing your front door shut, fingers gripping at your hips, eagerly drumming at the exposed skin. He's turning your body to gently push you back against the door, lips dropping to capture yours.

 “Don't think... I'll... get tired, of kissing you,” He breaths out deeply, sentence carelessly strewn together his sole focus was the way he was moving his tongue in your mouth. And a skillful tongue it was, too bad this couldn't go all that far – you'd love to know how that tongue in other places...

 You're kissing him back with just as much fervor, hands sliding down the front of his shirt until you can grip the hem of the shirt. Slowly you drag it up, inch by inch revealing his well worked on torso to ghosts of your bedroom. He's pulling back then, hands reaching for yours to assist you in his disrobing.

 A moment is spared to admire just what he had been hiding underneath all that fabric. Oh, what a shame... Leaning on your toes, you're taking his lips in another lingering kiss careful not to push too far. Plan would go to shit if you were allowing yourself to get lost in his soft kisses.

 Easily, you move from your position against the door. Jin watches you the entire short walk to your bed, body turning so he can get a better look at you. You make a show of the way you climb toward your headboard, bare legs crossed as you look up at him. Beckoning him over with your finger, Jin is quick to spring to action, all but running over to the edge of your bed.

 He's waiting, noticing how you stopped him just before he was about to climb into bed right on top of you. If only. What a shame. Jin's eyes drop to your thighs, catching the way you rub them together as your teeth nibble at your lower lip. “Take your pants off,” The command coming out whiner than you had hoped but Jin's hands are quick. His eyes on you the whole time he's unfastening his belt and dropping his pants to his ankles.

 You're careful not to let your eyes bulge at the sight of the size of his erection, straining against his boxers and just begging for some attention. A rub. A suck. Something. If circumstances were different, you would've been on your knees by now. Begging for a taste. What a shame.

 “These too,” The finger you had began to nibble at falls from your mouth, arm extending until you're able to reach him. You trace the tip of your finger over his covered shaft because, fuck... you can't help yourself.

 Jin shudders, mouth dropping and you can swear you see his dick twitch underneath the fabric. “You're fucking perfect.” He groans, quick to pull his bottoms down his legs, not even reacting to the way his cock bobs free, slapping against his hipbone. Fuck, he was huge, unbelievably thick, and beautifully veiny. Whoever said God was fair...

 Swinging your legs toward the edge of the bed, you're reaching for his hip; pulling his body toward you gently. Forcing your eyes from his pretty cock up to his face. Ignoring the urge to wrap your lips around the tip, just a taste. That couldn't hurt, right? “You think I'm perfect?” There's sincerity in your voice, still not over the initial shock felt when the compliment was falling from his lips.

 You couldn't lose your head now, though. Not when you were already so close to your goal. Jin is nodding his head without a second thought and you're grinning, leaning back just a bit so you can get a better look at his face.

 “Worth a hundred bucks?” 

 His eyes turn to moons the moment your words are registering. “W-what? How do you... how do you know about that?” He's stepping back just as you're shooting up from your bed.

 “What do you mean how do I know!? How could you try to humiliate me like that!?” You had spent so much time planning and re-planning your revenge that you hadn't put any time into thinking of what you were going to say once the jig was up. Mostly because you were so hurt by what he had done and you couldn't think of a way to express that without punching him a good one.

 “I mean-,” You're moving around the room, collecting the clothes that he had carelessly thrown down in the mindset he was going to become a richer man tonight. “Who even does something like that!? Is making a quick buck really that important to you?” You felt yourself holding back, wanted to ask how dare he make you like him just to turn out to be like any other guy.

 No way were you going to let him know that his stupid prank was working in any way, though. Keeping the little fact that you were falling for it to yourself was best. “It wasn't like that, Yn! Really.” He's half trying to explain himself to you and half focused on just what the hell you're doing with his clothes. Large hand covering his junk, no longer feeling confident in his nudity. 

 “Then what was it like, Jin?” You're turning, quick, not realizing that he had been standing right behind you. “Because from what I understand is that you and your friends thought it would be fun to put a price tag on my sex life and who knows how many other girls you're fucking with,” That, had been something that you forced yourself not to consider... but not the words were falling from your lips and realization was hitting.

 “It's just you! I mean... please, just hear me out. There aren't any other girls, and-,” You're cutting him off with a lift of his hand. Not really in the mood to be lied to. So ready to get him out of your face so you could be alone with all that you were feeling. “I don't want to hear it. I really don't. You're disgusting, Seokjin.” Your last words are delivered slowly and with your eyes staring into his. 

 “Yn-” He starts, but stops when he notices your backward steps toward your bedroom window. You push it open without any strain, lifting his clothes. “W-wait, what are you doing!?” He looks panicked as you toss his clothes out of the window, slamming it shut after you see them hit the ground.

 “Why would you go and do something like that!?” He's pissed, you can tell... but you don't care. You're done with him. Gave him the thirty seconds of distraught that he earned and now you were over it. For the most part. You'd work it out. It hadn't been that long since the two of you started hanging out. It wouldn't be that hard to get your shit together.

 “Hm, I wonder.” You mock with a roll of your eyes, you're passing him crossing your bedroom to reach your bathroom. “You can let yourself out,” There finality in your tone and you mean it, not bothered if you never saw him again after this.

 “You're not even going to let me explain?” He sure is talkative for a dude clutching his junk while his designer garments soaked in mud. “There's nothing to explain. Get out.” There's a droop in his shoulders following the sternness of your words. He's making his way toward your door with slow steps and you feel your heart crunch.

 Hated that it had to be like that, that he had to be like the rest of them. That you even bothered to give him a chance in the first place. It was so clear to you in the beginning, but you thought to give him the benefit of doubt, wanted him to be different... everyone was the same.

 “To think I was starting to change my opinion about you,” The words slip without your full intention. He's turning to look at you, but you're quick with the way you pull the bathroom door shut. Not having it in you to actually watch him walk out.

– rich, spoiled and a bit of a womanizer. but underneath all of that, there’s a heart of gold. and no matter how determined she is to reject him, he won’t stop trying until she sees he’s kinda sweet.

↲ masterlist ↳

taglist: @randomkoalablog​​ @smoljams​​ @dee-ehn​​ @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​ @lilacdreams-00​​ @sw33tnight​​ @bangtansonyeondayyyum​​ @okblve​​ @jinhitwhore​​ @tae165​​ @hellotherehoneybee​​ @bangtansbun​​ @betysotelo18​​ @cherriigguk​​ @koostime​​ @kooinluv​​ @butterflylion​​ @kookiesjoonies​​ @uxwi​​ @honeyoongles​​ @imajiningseokjin​​ @amoreguk​​ @beeeb05​​ @tommasauras​​ @bluefaeriefury​​ @butterflylion​​ @withlovestudyblr​​ @samros95​​​ @korkanswers​​ @houseofarmanto​​ @soulstaes​​ @thesunisup-theskyisblue​​​ @jinsearth​​​ @aizuwusho​​​ @moonb0yy​​​ @tan-dulset​​​ @8sjaf​​​ @mini-coop25​​​ @marifujioka​​​ @sunskook​​​ @elliemeetsevil​​​ @ratking101​​​ @leovaldezisfire​​​

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

[zaikaglow]

Queens of The Court

Pairing: Hitch x Reader, mentions of Ymir x Reader, brief Eren x Reader

Synopsis: After the girl you almost dated Ymir starts dating Historia and breaks your heart you can’t get your head back in the game. A handsome boy from the baseball team offers to help you get your mind off of things, but maybe the actual solution has been under your nose the whole time.

Content: Oral (f giving and receiving, brief m giving f receiving). mention of m x f sex, but the only explicate content is between two women. Slight angst.

The ball you sent flying bounces on the other side of the tennis court and starts to roll into the adjourning court while Hitch goes running after it. “Hitch what the fuck you could have hit that if you payed attention for once in your life” you say frustrated. It was really starting to annoy you the way that Hitch would be so zoned out that she wouldn’t even notice that the ball had been served until it was far too late and she was swinging her racket at nothing. Pieck has her racket pinched between her knees as she focuses on re-tying her ponytail “Come on y/n calm down you and Ymir are the first string me and Hitch are just here as backup” at this laid back remark Ymir decides to pipe up, racket up on her shoulder she struts up to the net. “Well how do you expect me and y/n to be able to keep winning tournaments if we only get to practice with you two space cadets”. Hitch is finally back from retrieving the ball wines “come on were doing our best”! Pieck lets out a small chuckle “come on Hitch even I don't believe that”. “Whatever it’s 8 o’clock the courts closing soon and I need to go pick up Historia from practice lets go” 

You and Ymir start to head back to the locker room together and you can’t help but to think back to the times before Historia. After doubles practice when Hitch and Pieck would go off to share a joint and leer at the baseball team from the bleacher you and Ymir would play each other 1 on 1, relishing the extra time together. At first it started off as a competition. Sure you two were the best doubles team but who was the best player? The first night you broke the barriers of physical contact was when you insisted that Ymir’s serve was out and her insisting it was in, until she had you backed against the chainlink “you know maybe if you put the same amount of energy you use arguing to work on improving your serves it might have actually have been in” you chided. “Shut up” Ymir responded, “why don't you make me” were your final words before her lips came crashing down on yours, her hands against your face. From then on it was your routine, after doubles play individually and always with a bet. Maybe the loser would go down on the winner, or maybe they’d be the one to wash down the winner in the locker room showers. You two never officially dated but you loved Ymir and thought of her as your girlfriend. That was until Historia. You remember how stupid you felt the day you had won your game against the opposing school and back in the locker room you had laced your fingers through her hair to pull her in for a kiss when she placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you “actually I started seeing someone. We’re still good as friends, we just can't keep doing the physical stuff okay”? God “the physical stuff” was that all this was to her? Your heart felt like it was being split in two and how could it not? You were in love with her and you thought she had felt the same, that the unspoken bond was what made it even more romantic. But turns out Ymir didn’t see things the same way, she thought you were just friends who happened to fuck. And now your plays were starting to suffer, too distracted by the heart ache. Sometimes getting distracted by the way Ymir’s hands grip the racket and your mind starting to wonder if she brushed her thumb along Historia’s cheek before kissing her the same way she used to do to you. Maybe that’s why you were so hard on Hitch for her spacing out, it's always easier to pick apart your flaws in other people instead of facing them yourself. As Ymir heads to the gym to go grab Historia from practice you decide to head over to the baseball field. Maybe hanging out with those two stoners would be better than going back home alone.

Pieck has the stupidest smile on her face when she passes you the joint, you taking it between your pointer and middle finger about to take a drag when you hear his grating voice “Heeeyyy y/n”. God it’s fucking Eren Jaeger, and he’s walking over baseball bat slung over his shoulders and you look away trying to avoid eye contact “Hello ladies, oh come on y/n don’t ignore me even in person” you take a drag of the joint before answering “hey Eren you ever think maybe there's a reason I never answered your text from 4 months ago” the boys eyebrows furl in concern “Oh come on you can’t still be mad about that group project! I said I was sorry and I was just asking you to dinner to apologize, you didn’t have to ignore me for 4 months”. Hitch doesn’t look like her cheery self, elbows on her knees and her fists supporting her pouting face “come on Eren you think you’d get the hint after 4 months, she’s. Not. interested.”. You pass the joint back to Pieck when suddenly you get an idea, still not daring to meet his teal eyes you say “Eren me and Ymir are playing tennis tomorrow why don’t you stop around 5 and pick me up”. Eren’s face lights up in excitement while Hitch and Pieck seem taken aback by you suddenly asking the guy you've blown off for the past 4 months to come hang out. Eren lets out a small chuckle “you two still practice on a Saturday”? “That’s why me and Ymir are so good, we apply ourselves. Hitch and Pieck could be too but they don't. Anyways are you coming or not” you say  “Oh I’ll be there hot stuff, I’ll be there.” he says while strutting back off to the rest of the team in the dugout. “Hey I can apply myself” Hitch practically yells, you can't tell whether that remark was for you or for Eren.

Your game against Ymir is not going in your favor, you know you can play better than you are but she brought Historia with her to watch and it's too distracting. Staring at her and wondering what she has that you didn’t, why Ymir could fall in love with her but not you. It’s a big surprise but you’re actually relieved when Eren shows up so you can end the game. Once on the court Eren makes his way over to you wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him, Ymir who has her tennis bag in one hand, the other holding Historia’s looks over at the two of you eyes crinkling into a smile “hey I didn’t know you were with someone, I’m really happy for you y/n”! And with that she turns and starts to walk away like she didn’t just tear your heart apart with her smile. She was genuinely happy for you, there were no hints of jealousy, maybe she was just relieved that you found someone and that possibly your game would finally improve and stop being pissy about her being with someone. You grab your bag tighter and start making your way down to the locker room right out of Eren’s arm while he starts jogging after you “I’ll be out in a second I just need to change” you say fighting back the tears that were starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. Instead of actually getting changed you lay back against the cold lockers before sliding down to the ground and burying your head in your arms that rest on your knees when suddenly you hear “so were you fucking her or something”? Your head snaps up “Eren what the fuck are you doing in here. This is the women’s locker room". He just chuckles at you before offering you a hand “it's Saturday, no one else is in here drama queen”. You wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand now afraid he’ll notice your tears not that your upright “what does it matter Eren”. He places his hands against the lockers right next to your hips before leaning in and you feel his hot breath fan across your face and his nose brush your cheek “do you want me to help you forget her”? You feel his hand snake down under your skirt running up your thighs until he reaches the top band and tries to pull down but your clothes stay in place. “It’s a tennis skirt dumbass the shorts are attached” you side step your way under his arms out of his grasp before starting to head back out of the locker room “besides like I’d ever let you fuck me here at least take me back to your room or something”. Eren starts to jog to keep up “hey I know how tennis skirts work”!

Eren’s dorm was painfully college boy-esque. Air fresheners littered along windowsills and desk an attempt to hide the boy BO and by the dirty bong on the desk, weed. You sit down on the edge of the bed pushing away a dirty tee-shirt with your pinky when Eren takes a seat on the floor between your knees ``okay baby girl I’m gonna make you forget aallll about that little tennis partner of yours”. He places a wet kiss to the side of your knee before using the first two fingers on each hand to dip beneath the waistband of your skirt before pulling it down. You lay back in the bed as you feel him kiss your inside thigh before finally making contact with your core, and oh god what the hell is he doing? He’s spelling out the alphabet, you're not too terribly surprised “not shocked just disappointed” would sum it up. He’s hot so of course he probably has tons of girls who faked ecstasy just because they were so excited to have Jaeger between their legs. But after Ymir? No way this comes close, b, a, s, e, oh he finished the alphabet so he’s moving onto random words now “baseball”? Real creative dumbass. Bored as hell you can't help but to pull out your phone.

To: Sub 1

What are you doing rn?

Movie night with Pieck! You should come join us!!! : )

K, going to shower and then be up.

Eren pulls away surprised when you sit up and start to pull your skirt back up “hey babe, what's wrong”? He gives you those stupid puppy dog eyes. “You're bad at this i'm bored” you utter grabbing your tennis bag and heading back to the door. You’re halfway down the hall when you see him standing in the door frame hardon visible through his boxers when he says “come on y/n I'm better with my dick dont you even wanna see”.

After making it back to your dorm and taking a quick shower you head up to the next floor and give a knock on the door adorned with cute little construction paper cactuses labels “Pieck” and “Hitch”. Hitch opens the door with a big smile, her eyes crinkling at the corner. You can't help but notice the white tank top wearing she’s wearing is slightly see through and the way her nipples push against the fabric, and boy can you feel them too when she pulls you into a hug and her breast squish against you. Pieck is laying down on the bed blowing the smoke from a joint out a window fan they turned around so it blows out the window instead of in. She smirks when she sees the way your face goes blank at how Hitch is nuzzling her head against you “hey y/n want some”?  You give a nob before heading over to the bed arm around Hitch guiding her back with you. A couple drags later and you're not even paying attention to the movie. Instead the weed has heightened your senses and it feels intense the way that Hitch is running her delicate little fingers up and down your arms. Pieck who’s been stealing glances at you two occasionally takes her phone out of her pajama shorts and says “oh hey I just got a text from Pock asking me to spend the night, I’m going to head over. You know how I like to sleep in, in the morning so y/n feel free to stay till wherever” she gives a wink as she saunters out the room. Hitch is semi laying back on the pillows and starts to giggle once Pieck is out the door. “What are you laughing about” you say as you sit up from the other end of the bed. Hitch’s face turns a bright red “nothing i'm not laughing about anything”. God you don’t know what it is about her right now but the way she short hair is kinda messy from rolling against the pillows or what a tease she looks like nipples poking through that see through tank top and her ass practically hanging out the bottom of those short shorts but you can’t help what comes over you. On your hands and knees you start to crawl towards her, green eyes widening as she watches you stalk towards her like a predator. Until you’re over her hands placed just under her armpits, your knees against the sides of her hips. You move one hand up to her jaw brushing your thumb over her lips “I said what are you laughing about ''. You don’t even give her a chance to answer before you crash your lips against hers, a small mewl escaping her lips at the contact. You move your hand from her face down to her side fingers running over her ribs. She sighs and leans into your touch, at her receptiveness you go ahead and move your hand up to her breast kneading the soft tissue between your fingers. When she starts to rub her thighs together you go ahead and practically rip that little tank top off her and latch your lips onto her nipple. One hand still gently squeezes her other breast thumb rubbing small circles around her perked up little nipple, on the other you have your tongue flicking, rolling, and sucking against her. Her hands go to your shoulders squeezing harder each time you pull off her nipple with a pop before going back. You plant a kiss to her sternum moving down her torso nipping at her belly button before continuing down and pulling her shorts off. She’s so beautiful. Her plump bottom lip between her teeth as her perky breast moving up and down with her excited breathing, her pubic hair is the same sandy blonde as her head and she’s practically glistening at her core. Spreading her legs apart you lay your head against her thigh and look into her eyes as you slide your pointer and ring finger inside of her. You can’t help but chuckle at just how wet she already is and how she’s clenching around your fingers, her hands gripping the sheets. You turn your head slightly as kiss her thigh as your drag your fingers in and out watching her face contorted in pleasure as she whimpers “use your words tell me what you want” she practically pants out “your tongue I want your tongue” and she's so sweet how can you not indulge her? You start to curl your fingers up as you give her puffy clit a kiss before starting to lap at it with the flat of your tongue. It’s driving you crazy the way her tits bounce with the thrust of your fingers and how she’s grinding her hips down against your fingers. Your other hand goes to play with her tits as you feel her flutter around you as she reaches her release, your tongue still spinning around her clit to ease her though the orgasm. “Mm too much” she mutters out pushing against your head. You sit back up admiring the fucked out look on pretty little Hitch all thanks to you. She sits up on her hands and knees giving you a soft smile “wanna make you feel good now” she says crawling into your lap, peppering kisses down your neck stopping to suck on your collar bone. You pull her head back “no hickies” you say bopping your pointer finger against her nose playfully. She giggles before ducking her head down to your waist pushing your PJ shirt up to access your nipples. She’s rougher than you were and you can feel her teeth nipping as she grabs you by your waist keeping you pulled close to her. When you give a little yelp when she uses a little too much teeth she pulls away giggling again as she pushes you down. “You know everytime you’d bend over for the ball” another giggle “I’d imagine what your pussy would look like”. You finish taking off the rest of your clothes for her and spread your legs when you reply with a teasing “so what do you think then?”. She licks her lips “even more beautiful than I could imagine” she says head moving down between your legs to lick up your folds before latching onto your clit. Hitch was an enthusiastic lover and you two went back and forth until it was late and you two were boarding on overstimulation. After laying down next to each other you get up and start to put your clothes back on. Hitch grabs your arm “hey, don't you wanna sleep over”. You just continue to put your clothes back on saying “ I don’t know if that's a good idea, I had fun though”. You get up and give her a kiss on the forehead before heading out and you can't bear to look her in the eyes because you can just feel the sadness radiating off of her. 

Back in your own bed you hug your knees to your chest trying to get rid of the hole in the pit of your stomach. You did like Hitch, she was sweet and god was she good in bed but come on she’s not someone you can rely on. This is Hitch! Hitch who once missed a game because she slept in too late after a party, Hitch who sometimes just forgot about practice. There was a reason she was on your phone as “sub 1” . You were afraid of getting attached to someone like her. Especially after the number Ymir did on you. You needed someone who you knew would be there, someone who won’t let you down. Your heart couldn't take another break but also you couldn't help but feel guilty for not even giving her the chance. To take your mind off of things you decide to get up early to go practice against the backboard.

It's 7am on a Saturday and you think you’ll be alone so you’re surprised when you hear the familiar sound of the tennis ball bouncing against the back bored and your heart sinks. Who else would be here at 7am besides Ymir, but you're surprised when you turn the corner and see Hitch. She’s painting and sweaty so its obvious shes been here for a while, when she misses the ball and stops to pull another out from her shorts you say “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here” she looks down and that pang of guilt comes back to your chest. She makes her way over to the fence where you are “Well you’re always talking about how I don’t apply myself and I thought that maybe if I tried harder in tennis you’d see something worthy in me” tears are starting to form in her eyes “I just imagined maybe you’d see me actually win a game or something. Not just see me still sucking against a wall”. You put your hands up to where her fingers were poking through the chain link and place your hands over her’s. “Hitch” she perks up to meet your eyes “do you want to go on like an actual date” her lips part in surprise at your words. “Also why don’t you see if Pieck’ll sleep over at Pocks again, this time I’ll stay the night”. She’s really beautiful when she smiles “yeah I’d like that”.

[illogicallyinclined]

I am so grateful for you and your hockey au Jay. Despite not knowing A THING about it 3 months ago, it is now one of the only things keeping me going and it brings me so much joy at home. My whole family is now aware of my sudden hockey interest and they've been trying to learn stuff about it for me! Jay, thank you SO MUCH

i’m always glad to hear that i’ve successfully gotten someone into my favorite Disaster Sport, so thanks for reaching out and letting me know :’) 

hockey’s made me real happy for a real long time -- and honestly helped me make a ton of great friends throughout high school and college -- so i’m seriously ecstatic to hear that it’s managed to help bring you joy as well

having said that, here are some misc hockey boys for your time:

one time, while Roman was absentmindedly bouncing on an exercise ball, Remus ran up and just,,, Punted It out from under him

Payton likes to keep unconventional snacks in his locker for after practice, so the the team occasionally makes bets on what Unexpected Snack he’ll pull out next; (items thus far have included a can of whipped cream, a 10 pound bag of Haribo Gummy Bears, and an unopened bag of mini marshmallows that he proceeded to tear open with his teeth before dumping some straight into his mouth)

Remus has a reputation amongst the league for being Super Annoying (because he’s a Grade A Pest who knows how to do his job right), but there’s no denying that other teams also lowkey find him scary as hell

any one of Remus’s teammates: *starts smack-talking on the ice, offering to start a fight*; Remus: *looms behind them, daring the opposing player to Try Something*

a few Aces once played a game of two-touch where, every time someone hit the soccer ball, they made some sort of Weird Noise for No Reason other than the fact that they found it amusing

there’s a compilation video on the Aces official Twitter account composed of Virgil and Holly strumming their sticks like fake guitars while MCR blasts in the locker room

there’s also another compilation video that’s composed of Logan eating straight out of various jars of Crofters with a spoon, and it’s over five minutes long

[eintsein]

Impostor Syndrome: What it is and how to deal with it

There may be times when you feel like a fraud, like at any moment people will find out that you have no clue what you’re doing and you don’t deserve any of your achievements. You think that you’re unworthy of praise, that you only succeeded out of luck.

This is known as Impostor Syndrome, and around 70% of people have struggled with it in their lives. The problem arises when high achievers fail to internalize their success, i.e. when you attribute your success not to your own abilities but rather to external factors.

Some say that impostor syndrome could be linked to traits like anxiety or neuroticism. Impostor syndrome has also been commonly attributed to behavioral causes like childhood experiences, e.g. being labeled as “the smart one” or “the talented one”.

Another huge factor is how well you think you fit into a certain group, e.g. impostor syndrome is common among people of a racial/ethnic/cultural minority, women in STEM, and international students at US universities.

Dr. Pauline R. Clance was the first to design a scale to measure impostor syndrome based on six factors

The impostor cycle, where someone is given an achievement-related task and they either (a) overprepare or (b) procrastinate

The need to be special/the best

Superhuman characteristics

Fear of failure

Denial of ability and discounting praise

Feeling fear and guilt about success

There are different types of impostors, as categorized by Dr. Valerie Young, an expert on impostor syndrome (note that these categories aren’t mutually exclusive):

I’ve personally dealt with the first two types. I’m fairly certain I can attribute being ‘the genius’ to childhood/adolescent circumstance: I’ve been known as ‘the smart one’ throughout elementary school and high school - every time I made a mistake, it was met with a chorus of ‘wahh jo made a mistake...’ Even last month when I had a mini-reunion with some of my high school friends, one of them said something along the lines of “I like when Jo makes mistakes because it reminds me that she’s human, too.” I can definitely say I’ve overcome that now because, you know, college - everyone’s as smart or smarter than you and works pretty hard.

Being ‘the expert’ is still something I’m still trying to overcome. Last spring when I was applying to internships, I only dared to apply to those where I met 100% of the requirements. I’ve been coding for like 4 years but I constantly think I’m incompetent. It once got up to the point where I literally took 3 similar courses to assure myself that I actually do know how to do full-stack web programming. I still struggle to draw the line between relearning something because I don’t think I really know it, versus learning something for the expansion of knowledge.

How do I deal with it?

Firstly acknowledge that you have impostor-related thoughts Awareness is the first step to changing how you think and how you act.

How does impostor syndrome look like in a school/college setting? Examples include

You refrain from asking questions because you think other students/TAs/the professor will think you’re dumb;

You don’t respond to questions even though you kind of know the answer but you always think your answers aren’t right enough or that they’re simply wrong;

You don’t participate in discussions because you feel that you won’t add any value; or

You prevent yourself from having an opinion because you feel like you have no right to have one.

Reframe your thoughts

Think of their possible effects Do these thoughts help or hinder me? Will anything useful come out of thinking this? Acknowledge that not speaking up may mean slowing your team down or depriving your classmates of potentially valuable insights.

Separate fact from feeling Are they factual or simply a misinterpretation of my environment?

Differentiate feelings of fraudulence from feeling like an outsider Does my work show that I’m incompetent or is the fact that I’m the only female in a team of males/POC in a team of Caucasians make me think I’m inferior?

Stop comparing yourself to other people You might think something along the lines of “there are already so many people who can do what I do but so much better, so what’s the point in even trying?” However, remember that these people were once where you were, and taking even the smallest of actions could help you get to where they are.

Be more forgiving with yourself

Rethink perfection Not everything has to be perfect. Even if you have high standards, not achieving those standards doesn’t make you any less worthy.

Reframe mistakes and identify areas of improvement It’s okay to be wrong or not to know everything. Think of mistakes as learning opportunities and indicators of gaps in your knowledge/understanding of something, as opposed to a negative measure of your self-worth. Being wrong doesn’t mean you’re fake; it just means you have more to learn.

For example, previously I would only answer a question in class if I was at least 90% sure that was the correct answer. That’s a high threshold, and I don’t think it’s very useful for helping me learn and grow. Over the course of a year, I’ve managed to lower that down to I’d say around 60% (50% with coffee lmao).

Collect positive experience

Remember and reflect on praises Think about the efforts you exerted to help you achieve something and the positive responses you garnered when you finally achieved it. Remind yourself of the words of encouragement other people have told you, no matter how small. You could even keep a folder/document/journal to look back on when you feel like a fraud.

Heck, sometimes I feel like my posts aren’t useful or my designs are terrible, but then you guys tell me such kind things and I think, maybe I’m not as bad as I thought.

However, while it’s good to remember the good words people have said, don’t work just for the sake of praise. Focus on the value of the work itself and not the validation that comes from it.

Focus on providing value

Focus on what you can say Instead of thinking about what you don’t know, focus on what you do know and what you can say. Even if what you say isn’t entirely correct or relevant, it’ll get others around you thinking.

Remind yourself that holding back is like robbing the world of your ideas There’s always some value in your words, even if you don’t initially think so. How that value affects the world or other people may differ. For example, when you put forward an idea/thought in a discussion, it could be that

If there were parts that were incorrect, other people might have had the same misconception and are more than happy for the clarification;

Again, if there were parts that weren’t correct, they might not have had the same misconception but now realize that there is a way in which the subject can be misinterpreted, thus allowing them to have a more comprehensive understanding of the subject; and/or

It’ll stimulate further thinking and discussion and raise more questions, especially if other people wouldn’t normally think what you just thought. Then other people could bounce off your idea and form an equally great one.

Take action You won’t feel as much of a fraud if you’re doing something that brings you a little closer to achieving your goals or that adds value to your work.

However, be careful not to overwork yourself. Every time you start doing something, pause and think: is this really important to my progress or am I just trying to prove myself?

Instead of working on too many things, do something outside your comfort zone each day no matter how small. Once you do this, focus on quality (your growth) instead of quantity (the number of things you do).

Also, for those of you who fall into the ‘expert’ category, this also means practicing just-in-time learning, i.e. learning things when you need it, not just to comfort yourself.

I hope that was helpful, and please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions/comments/suggestions :)

[the-crows-typist]

Hi lemilia-san, i really love your stories they make my heart ache in a good way! May i ask for a ficlet with trey and the word “liar”? Thank you!

CW for Slight discussion of Sports Injury and Angst.

The Possibilities Are Endless

“Don’t lie to me...Please.”

They had a habit of lying, Trey’s friend of his.

He didn’t understand why they had to lie to him, he didn’t understand why they had to hide every moment of weakness from him, and he didn’t understand why they refused to cry in front of him or refused to cry in front of anyone at all.

Was it because they hated the feeling of being weak?

They wore their training gear, the schools volleyball varsity jacket, and their favorite training shoes. “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s a little extreme to train for longer periods of time when you’re so close to the competition?” Trey asked, stopping to let his friend re-tie their shoe laces. “It is but I think the extra time will help with improving my serving and spiking.”

“Serving and spiking are two different things, right?”

“Yup, yup. Totally different. You start with serving and ending with spiking.”

Trey looks to the wrap around their ankle, a reminder to both of the loss that put a toll on both of them.

The piercing whistle followed by the gasp of the crowd, the thud of a body falling on the floor, the boll bouncing wildly, and the squeaking footsteps of the team that scrambled to get to their injured teammate who held their painful leg. The ball rolled to the other side of the court at that very moment, ignored and abandoned. The concerned opponents exchanging looks between each other and abandoning their positions to help their fallen opponent; the court was on time out, the medics on stand-by rush in to assess the scene.

Trey watched as Vargas and another teacher spoke to one another. There was a nod and nudge to one of the players on the bench who was warming up in any way he could. A medic approaches Vargas and the couch, normally so gregarious and jolly, was straight faced and serious.

“A sprain,” Said one of the spectators. “And it looked like a painful one too. I hope it’s not too serious.”

He watched his friend was pulled from the ground and a hand over their eyes as they limped back to the bench and only stopping to nod their head as they talked to their coach, accepting the player switch. They sit down on the bench, with the help of a teammate, and their ankle wrapped with brown medical gauze. He could see the longing in the in their eyes and the tinge of disappointment and despair.

It was as if they had failed.

“Don’t push yourself too hard, alright?” They straightened their back to full height, pouting their lips at him. “Don’t be such a busybody! Me running after a bus in the rain was a onetime thing, alright?” Trey pushed his finger to their forehead; a fake exasperated sigh leaving his lips but a smile betrayed that sentiment. “That’s not what I meant.”

He points to their ankle. “This is what I meant.”

“Oh.”

There was a silence between them as they looked at the ankle wrap. The sprain had healed with the proper care and proper practice but they haven’t stop wearing it since. To them, it was a reminder never to fall flat again. To him, it was a sign that things weren’t the way they tried to make it out to be. A flash of realization, one of dread and remembrance, and Trey pulled back knowing well the repercussion of that reminder. “I just…” His shoulders slackened and his face calm and his smile grew to one easy and sympathetic. “I don’t want you to push yourself, that’s all. A sprain is still a sprain. You told me how tough it was to recover from that.”

“Oh come on, don’t be such a worrywart! I’ll be fine. I’ll take care of myself, okay?”

“I’m just saying.”

“And I’m listening.” They pat his shoulder. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry. As if a sprain is gonna get me down in the dumps!

“Ah, I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Trey!”

He waved as they ran towards the gym, the wind blew again and Trey was left alone in the school’s now empty walkway. He remembers the face of defeat when he ran to the gym after the losing match, he remembers seeing their teeth grit together hard, their brows furrowing, and he remembers the rising tension within them.

“As if a sprain is gonna get me down in the dumps!”

“Liar.”

The venue for the competition was a large stadium that stood high above everyone watching. The colors of white and black dominated the stadium as two schools were fighting for to the gold; supporters of Night Raven College and Royal Swords Academy littered the entrances. Upon entering the stadium, the smell of salonpas and mint spray hit his nose, the squeak of volleyball shoes, and the labored breathes of practicing athletes. He looked around, trying to spot the elegant black and purple design of Night Raven’s volleyball club. He was looking for them, his friend.

“Trey!”

A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, his breath hitched as his feet left the floor suddenly. “You made it!” He turned around, looking at them with a smile and a hand to his stomach as soon as he was set down. Their strength never ceased to astound him. “Of course I am.” He ruffled their hair making them squirm. “Can’t have my junior being lonely during their tournament.”

“Trey, you’re messing up my hair!”

“It’s a good luck charm, y’know?”

“I’ve received too much luck now! Stop it!”

A hearty laugh and a clap of calloused hands, Coach Vargas approached the two with a smile. “Mr Clover, I didn’t know you were a fan of the sport.” And like the polite student he is, he nodded in greeting to his PE teacher and to the team. “I wasn’t initially but my friend had pulled me into it.” His hand rested on their shoulder, “I’m not familiar with the terminologies, though.”

Vargas laughed again, his voice thundering in the small confines of the lobby. Everyone looked at him, his team, the opponents, and the onlookers and supporters. There was a collective exasperated sigh from the NRC’s volleyball team, Coach Vargas was always like this.

“I’ll go wait in the seats. I’m pretty sure you’re going to get called soon.”

Trey eyed the staff member with a megaphone and multiple papers. The megaphone rang and the voice of the announcer echoed through.

“All participating volleyball teams please make your way to the stadium entrances!”

“Night Raven College to the left entrance please!”

“Royal Swords Academy to right entrance please!”

“Good luck.” He says, patting them on the back. “I’ll be rooting for you.”

There was a fearful look in their eyes, the nervousness that they felt when entering the stadium. Trey wished they could hug them and hold them close. His hand went out patting their shoulder.

“Good luck.”

“I’ll be fine.”

The two teams left for their respective entrances and Trey was soon left alone in the crowd of onlookers and fans.

“Liar.”

The ball flew over the net as a spiker from Royal Swords hit the ball with his hand, Night Raven’s libero making a running start to try and fail to save the ball. The whistle blowing hard to signal the point given to the opposing team, Trey bit back a groan when his team lost the point. His eyes look to them, their teeth grit and shoulders square.

Frustration.

The whistle of the referee blared into through the court, signaling the change of players. There was a small sense of dread when he saw the number on the placard, it was theirs. He pressed his lips together, seeing the walk of defeat they made as they took the card from their teammate. It was Vargas who met them with a towel in hand, putting over their head.

His mouth moved, giving them a small speech and letting them sit down the rest of the game.

“I’ll be fine.”

Even after the weeks and months of recovery, Trey knew that the pain of the sprain still lingered within them.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Liar.”                                                                                                                      

“We were so close too.” They complained, walking with Trey to the nearest eatery. “Next time for sure, we’re gonna win. I just know it.” They always pushed this image of positivity. “I just need lots and lots of practice.”

“You’re pushing yourself too hard again.” Trey said, his tone slightly harsh. “If all you do is practice and practice then you’ll end up with another sprain.”

“Oh come on, you worry so much. I said I’m gonna be fine…”

Trey stopped in his tracks, letting his friend take a few steps ahead. His brows furrowed and lips pressed in a straight line. “Liar.”

They stopped in their tracks, turning around to look at him. “You don’t have to keep lying to yourself and to me, y’know?” He walked with them, bumping his shoulder with theirs. “You’re the strongest person I know and no amount of losses are going to change that.”

The two of them walked silently after that, their hand coming to hold Trey’s as they walked and their head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to look weak in front of you.”

“You aren’t.” He held their hand tightly. “You never were.”

[notphilosopherstudentblog-moved]

unnecessary dream smp (but not really) mock trial post

pt. 2

*warning: long post* 

I have been having a terrible mock trial season so far, so I decided to cope by theorizing what the dream smp members would be like in mock trial. I will try to explain mock trial terms as much as possible, but all you really have to understand is that it is fake court. it is court roleplay, that’s it

Direct - an interrogation of your own witness to help you prove your case

Cross - an interrogation of the opposing teams’ witnesses to help you prove your case by poking holes in theirs

Case law - the “laws” of the fake world that the American Mock Trial Association set in place that set precedents for how each side is supposed to argue their cases; these are typically in the form of court cases

Voir dire -  a preliminary examination of a witness or a juror by a judge or counsel; this comes in the form of opposing counsel interrupting a direct in order to prove that the witness is not fit to make their testimony for one reason or another 

Wiggling - the refusal to answer a question with a direct yes or no in order to not weaken a witness’ testimony

Defendant - the person/corporation being charged with a crime

Dream Team and Co.

Dream 

everyone hates him as attorney and I say this with full confidence

because he’s hyper-aggressive during cross

but also because he’s right 

like a lot

he knows case law like the back of his hand 

he made flashcards

and he’s memorized this year’s case like immediately after it comes out

he made spreadsheets and like ten page document for every witness, including what they bring to the case and what makes them a weak witness 

I mean come on this is the same dude who played one game and hyperfixated on it so hard that he became one of the best players on the internet

his team loves him because he basically writes their entire case for them, but they’re also worried for him because he just rewrites cases on whim in the middle of the night and doesn’t mention it until someone (usually sapnap) brings it up during practice

back on topic, he usually kills it as an attorney and people are like visibly terrified when he’s their attorney

he was pretty meh as a witness when he first started but he’s actually really good now

he used to be terrible at holding a character during a direct/cross

as he’s gone along and practiced, he’s gotten much better!!!

he’s terrifying to go against as an attorney or witness, but attorney is definitely his strong suit

George

george as an attorney is a concept that I hold near and dear to my heart 

I feel like they treat him the same way people treat him playing Minecraft: by severely underestimating him because he makes dumb jokes and is super quiet, but he’s actually really good!!

he’s probably super nonaggressive during cross and directs, but he goes hard during voir dire

he’s like suspiciously good at voir dires

and like forcing people to impeachments

he decimates witnesses and gets their testimonies thrown out

his teammates are suspicious that the other teams are in on it because there is no reason why he should get this many voir dires/impeachments...but he does

(he’s just really good guys, I promise)

it’s definitely not because he’s cute and witnesses don’t know how to handle it and then they slip up and he comes down hard on them

people always forget he set, like, a record for number of voir dires at a tournament, so he has this reputation as being the weakest of the dream team

he’s such a strong attorney

but oh my god his witness

do not, and I repeat, DO NOT let this man be a witness

he cannot act

he just reverts back to his personality and he has No Inflection

you think the British accent will give you points?

they can’t make up for his inability to maintain a character

Sapnap

this man is fucking PSYCHOTIC whether he is attorney or witness

he goes absolutely feral on crosses and it intimidates witnesses so much, even if they’ve been competing for years

he’s just super good at crosses, but do not put him with an emotional witness because he has this remarkable inability to act comforting

his friends can come to him with anything and they’ll talk about it and he’ll comfort them

but it’s like his emotions turn off as soon as he enters a round

it’s fucking wild

you only put him as a witness if you want that witness to have a) feral characterization, b) sexual undertones, or c) both

his witnesses are infamous every year

he is very good for throwing people off their game with out-of-left-field characters and other teams hate him for it

every single one of his characters dresses up like a frat boy trying to dress for court and it’s so funny

but he still gets other competitors hitting him up after comps, men or women

Do Not try to approach him outside of trial though because he is the definition of a quiet kid if he’s not around his friend

he will be too awkward to talk to you

Karl

I love love love Karl to death, but he is not built to be an attorney

he only plays witness

and he’s really good at it!!

he’s super fun as a witness and he wiggles a lot on answers

attorneys hate that he wiggles a lot because it’s frustrating

but there is nothing they can do about it

he doesn’t get a lot of witness roles, but the ones he does get, he kills 

he gets an absurd amount of thirst posts on the mock trial confessions facebook page

like an absurd amount

it’s become a joke amongst the dream team

there is a tally kept for how many thirst posts Karl gets

he doesn’t even have to compete

people will just see him in the room and become thirsty

an icon truly

it’s because his character outfits are hot as hell, literally all the time 

you have to wear business casual/professional during trial and we all know that Karl would look hot as FUCK in a suit

also everyone in college mock trial is horny

Badboyhalo

bad in mock trial would kill as an attorney

everyone loves bad

even opposing teams

because he’s just so sweet??? for like no reason??? 

he’s done mock trial since freshman year high school and he’s competed against (and earned the respect of) some of the best mockers in the country

he’s notorious for being super kind outside of trial and during pre-trial

but he’s terrifyingly ruthless during trial

he’s similar to dream and george, but he has a much better reputation

there was an anonymous hate message about bad on the mock trial confessions page and there was a crusade to figure out who it was

(his teammates ended up snitching on him because bad is just that beloved)

he definitely received several scholarships because he is just that good

he does not like witness

so he just does not do it

Schlatt

schlatt is the most iconic mocker

like people outside of mock trial know who he is

he’s trended on twitter

he’s really good at every role he plays, even though he plays them to their most feral extremes

he played an expert last year and spent the entire time heavily implying that his character was god

the worst part is he received a witness award for it at

every

single

tournament

every single one

judges would make a point to commend him after matches

every single time his name got announced at closing ceremonies, people died inside

it was extremely amusing for everyone on the dream team

the same year as his maybe-god character, there was a rash of anonymous confessions about schlatt and wilbur soot from another team

a cross between them at competition was so extremely homoerotic that people began shipping them immediately

this is carried on for the entirety of the season

they played into it heavily

there is still an ongoing bet on whether or not they’ve fucked

Quakity

quackity always ends up playing the defendant and always plays them super sus

memes are made about him simply because he is so suspicious every time

he once brought a guitar and attempted to sing his entire direct because his character was a singer

he was asked to leave by the judge immediately

his teammates made him an award titled ‘quickest disqualification in mock trial history’

he treasures it like a child

his teammates love him because he is hilarious

but they also hate him because he always tries to make his characters’ background that they are or were at one point strippers 

no matter if they already have a background laid out by AMTA, alex

he never plays attorney

there is no reason why

he just never does

this became extremely long for absolutely no reason, but I hope you enjoyed it. I wanna do another one for SBI and co, but not right now. I’m writing this at 215 with a Slimecicle video playing the background. I have to be up at 7 for a mock trial tournament

this is helping me cope