#sipping water taking naps no screens just vibes

[shotgunweddingicebath]

i love a bartender who purposefully over serves you in hope you’ll go home with them! (painfully hungover)

[yelenasdog]

something like “i know” (ben hardy x fem reader)

genre: FLUFF FINALLYY

summary: sometimes making tiktoks with ben doesn’t always turn out the way you plan, but by no means is that a negative.

words: 1.4k

warnings: age gap (not dramatic, reader is like, idk, 23 maybe?), kissing, i think that’s it but lmk!

a/n: hi! so i’ve had this idea for ages and wanted to write it so here it is! the end of it is far sappier than i planned but meh whatevs. also ty to cici and eva for helping me pick the moodbard hehe. k enjoy!

☆❂✧

Having an age gap was never something that put a large damper on their relationship. The conflicting personalities of the two balanced out quite nicely, and the similarities that drew the two of them together in the first place (apart from the aforementioned) made sure they never had a lack of interesting things to talk about that weren’t generational.

Until TikTok, that was.

Now of course, there were some other millennials on the application, but Ben just for some reason couldn’t get it.

“Yes, I know that, babe, but why do they do dances?”

“They lip sync too!”

“But what is the point?”

And that’s how the conversation would end. Every single time. So Ben would sit on the sofa, watching as she danced about in front of the small screen, occasionally playing some cruel (ok, that’s a large exaggeration, they’re somewhat mean, at best) joke on him, claiming it was a trend on TikTok? That just did not sit right with him.

He didn’t remember hearing “mean pranks” in the initial description of the app when she had described it to him all of those times.

Ben tried to tune it out, he really did. He would wear his headphones, blasting Zeppelin as loud as he could while reading scripts or a book. But somehow, those catchy little tunes always managed to worm their way into his ear, being stuck in there for days and days on end.

He would waltz around the house humming Megan Thee Stallion, the occasional Flo Milli or underground indie artist also making an appearance often.

He was pouring a cup of coffee for himself one Tuesday morning in the kitchen before going on a run, Y/n watching fondly from afar. Rain was softly rolling down the windows, barely coming to a cease. The air was chilly, and fog floated through the early morning sky, a sense of calm washing over their shared South London home.

The room was kept somewhat warm, though, from the fireplace that she had insisted the house had to have, which Ben ended up being grateful for on more than one occasion. He looked over his shoulder briefly, smiling at the sight of his beloved wrapped up in his seafoam jumper, watching him move about contently.

As he turned back to where he was working on filling the two mugs in front of him, he began to oh so quietly sing the lyrics to what sounded like a familiar tune off of the app. Watermelon Sugar, maybe?

“Ben? Baby?”

He turned, his eyes growing wide and his hands flying to his hips as he leaned against the countertop behind him.

“Mhhm, yeah, w-what’s up, babe?”

She couldn’t hold in her giggle at the sight of her boyfriend’s red face and disgruntled appearance, one of his hands now scratching casually at his gold locks.

“What’re you singin’, pretty boy?”

His blush only increased at the nickname, eliciting another laugh from his girl.

“Y’know, just somethin’ I heard on the radio the other day.”

She immediately recognized his lie, he refused to listen to the radio, only using either Bluetooth or the aux cord, his music taste too pretentious for mainstream stations. She didn’t mind, though, always finding it quite funny how much of a music snob he was.  

But rather than call him out, she only nodded and smirked, standing up and bringing her phone with her over to the windowsill where she usually filmed her TikToks, pulling Ben along with her.

He sipped from his mug, eyes slanted as she scrolled through something on her phone, various sounds emitting from the speaker.

A little smile showed up on her face when she (apparently) found what she was looking for, leaving her to set the phone down, allowing a video under the sound to play on repeat.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked, ever so cautiously, taking a step towards her. She walked towards him, engulfing him in a hug which he (yet again) cautiously reciprocated.

“I am going to teach you a TikTok dance.”

He had to do a double take.

“Come again?”

She pulled on the elastic waistband of her sweats, grabbing Ben by the arm.

“Come on, I know you wanna. And if nothing else you’ll do it to make me happy.”

He rolled his eyes, slightly irritated at her confidence and that she was so incredibly correct, he would do mostly anything to put a smile on her face.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He grumbled, moving to stand next to her.

She clapped once in excitement, joy flooding her entire body. The music started up again, but this time, she began to dance along to it.

“Ok, so just try to do what I’m doing, alright?”

“No! Not alright, can I just stand here, I think I should just stand here-“

“Ben, it's literally not that hard, 8 year olds can do it!”

“Well, I’m an extremely confused 29 year old man, thank you very much!”

And that’s basically how the next 15 minutes went until she finally gave in, allowing Ben to stand behind her, occasionally doing a little move of sorts. The two were in a fit of giggles now, struggling to keep enough composure for long enough to get even one successful video.

“Benjamin Jones! This is the last one, okay?”

He put a hand on his stomach, both of the pair attempting to catch their breath.

“Yes, yes, right okay, got it, last one.”

The little timer button counted down, the sound echoing throughout the property. 

The music then started, and she could barely keep a straight face for the 15 seconds. Bored of the routine, but never of her, Ben decided he would grab her and throw her onto the sofa, as payback for all the “TikTok pranks” she would pull on him. He waited for the perfect time to strike (one where she wouldn’t hopefully be too infuriated), restlessly shifting from foot to foot.

Nearing the last few seconds, he made his move. He swooped forward, a high pitched shriek falling from her lips as he wrapped his strong arms around her waist, running and jumping onto the couch, crushing her. He rolled off quickly, and she moved to be on top of him, her hair wildly astray. She sat up, straddling his thighs with a bright smile plastered on her face.

“You little jerk.”

He only smiled boyishly in response, a lovesick gaze set in his eyes.

The song was still playing on repeat as she leaned down, positioning her hands on either side of his head in order to place her lips gently upon his.

“That’s your reward for putting up with me today, Jones.”

He scoffed, taking her by the shoulders and bringing her to his chest. She looked up from where she was now comfortably lying, meeting his homey emerald gaze, his eyes like sea glass that had washed up on white sands, waiting to be rediscovered.

“I feel as if I deserve something more for all of that.”

“Oh, do you?”

He hummed and nodded, closing his eyes. She reached up, placing another peck on his plump lips, before scurrying away to retrieve the phone. He sat up rather quickly at the sudden loss of her body weight, smiling at the sound of her laughter coming towards him.

“Ben, look, it turned out so well.” She managed to slip out before basically throwing him the phone. A grin erupted on his own face soon after, along with the hearty chuckles to match. 

He made some commentary on how wonderful it was, before handing her back the device. She moved so she was once more essentially laying on top of Ben, the screen in both of their views. 

After sharing a few more laughs over the video, she captioned it and posted it, throwing her phone to get lost in the couch cushions as the likes and comments began to roll in.

She looked up at him once more, and he met her gaze, as he always would, bringing a hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. 

It didn’t leave her cheek, resting there and lightly caressing her skin. The two were most serene then, almost appearing as two felines that had decided to nap during the morning showers, most comforted by each other and the steady sound of the droplets as they pattered.

He was whispering now, the rambunctious energy of the room fading into a much more tranquil and stolid vibe, wrapping the two up like a warm embrace.

“Y’know I really would do anything to make you happy, my love.”

She closed her eyes, taking hold of one of his hands.

He then heard her mutter something like “I know”, and all was well.

☆❂✧

it was fitting for the theme. but anyway i hope u enjoyed, pls reblog and like if u did :) go drink some water, eat some protein, and take an electronics break!

love you bunches! xx hj

[macchiatooru]

ᴬⁿ ᵃˡˡ⁻ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ³ʳᵈ ᵍʸᵐ ˢqᵘᵃᵈ?

With Kenma? And Lev and Hinata? Absolute College AU vibes? Despite my doubts about the productivity, I definitely need this. It’s around 1AM as I type, and I literally have three papers to finish, with one due tomorrow. HAHAHAHAHA. (I wrote this note last night, so it’s not entirely applicable now, but well- I have to submit the second tomorrow and the third the following day... I hope HAHAHA)

Note: If you’re also up at such ungodly hours and want to add to this when you’re stuck with a paper too, or a lesson, or something, go ahead! If you want to modify something, don’t hesitate to say it!

The situation, for example, is that you’re writing a paper, and you don’t know how to continue it anymore. Luckily, you have enough options to kill the time until your brain is working properly again. The apartment―whoever owns it, maybe you guys were sharing or had connecting ones or were neighbors or whatnot―would literally look like, I don’t know, a convention? It’s like there are different stalls with different activities. Take your pick!

Tsukishima’s Corner:

I can imagine that he has this set-up in the far end of the living room where he has a table against the wall and a chair with a blanket on it

And he always has a drink with him, whether it’s a soda or an Iced Americano. (that just gave me Yoongi vibes ahhh my heart)

Of course, he has his headphones on. Not surprising.

He’s pretty calm when he does his schoolwork, and his focus is just wow

So, don’t expect him to pay attention to you that much. Again, not surprising.

If you have an actual question though, I think you can ask him!

He’ll help you out, but be wary of the sass and teasing.

It’s highly possible for him to annoy the shit out of you before you guys solve the problem, btw.

If you have chips with you, he’ll take some without asking permission smh but he’s so idufhsdbkfhda can you really say no?

You can get back at him by repetitively calling him “Tsukki”.

“Cut it out.”

“No can do, Tsu~ Kki!”

Emphasize! the! syllables! because he probably lowkey thinks it’s kinda cute

Unless he doesn’t and he throws the blanket at your face to shut you up

Don’t annoy him when he’s in a bad mood, okay?

He’ll really appreciate it if you give him space on those days

But he’ll also appreciate it so so so much if you’re the one who hands him his usual drink.

Despite being the person who could really rile you up the most

He’s actually nice... in his own way!

Lev and Hinata’s “Quiet” Pile of Pillows:

What am I even saying?

There’s nothing quiet about that part of the living room.

Lev and Hinata like studying in their “own kind of comfort”

And that is with their “study” blankets―they have separate ones for sleeping―on the floor and their pillows on top.

They study with the TV on

A series on Netflix is playing the entire time.

Nobody minds, really, because for some reason, most of you can study with some noise in the background. Those who can’t, however, just listen to music on their own.

They have hot or iced chocolate―depends on their mood���made either by you, Akaashi, or Kuroo.

You never asked Bokuto to do it again. Never again.

One time, he made the mistake of giving the “kids” coffee, and well, was that some night.

Lev and Hinata have common classes, so they work on some of their assignments together.

Expect them to be very excited when they get something right and very frustrated when they can’t understand what they’re doing.

Probably just a spot for you to take a quick break, maybe lie your head down on Lev’s favorite pillow to annoy him.

It’s not because he doesn’t want to share, but because you just took it right out of his lap.

They’ll be really happy kiddos if you join them! Please give these babies the attention they need.

Also, it helps to give them snacks to shut them up.

Bokuto’s Spot on the Couch:

That became his permanent spot after Akaashi sent him there because of that one time that big baby reaaally got on his nerves.

He has a pillow supporting his back as he leans against an armrest, legs stretched out in front of him and laptop on his, well, lap. HAHAHA sorry

He also likes working with the TV on, so it was a suitable place for him.

Bokuto’s drink would either be a can of soda or a protein shake.

Keep your phone on standby.

You have to take a pic of the pouty face he makes when he doesn’t get something.

He’s so cute he can have my heart-

“Akaashiiiii~ Why won’t you help me out?”

Akaashi would remind him that not only was he a year higher, but he also had a different major.

*cue Bo’s emo mode with matching droopy hair fml he’s literally so cute*

He gets distracted easily because he never puts his phone on silent

Probably chats with Konoha idk

Or gets carried away watching game highlights.

He already startled all of you a few times.

“OOOOOOOOOOOH. DAAAAAAAAAAAMN. THAT WAS SO GOOD.”

“Bokuto-san-”

If you choose to go to him, he can’t really help you with the paper you’re writing.

However, he gives THE BESTEST HUGS!

I think a lot of us agree that he’s a walking heater, so getting a hug from that beefy boi? Especially when it’s cold?

H E A V E N

Or that’s just me being biased, but is it really just me?

I love him.

Kuroo’s Kitchen Kounter:

Now, I’m definitely sure I’m being biased because- I mean- JUST-

One of the kitchen counters faces the common living area where everyone is spread out.

Imagine walking from wherever you were previously just staring at your laptop with that constant 132 words plastered on the corner of the screen and you’re well-aware that it has to be 2000 by tomorrow

And seeing business-related major Kuroo, sitting on a stool, immersed in his work, Excel sheets and documents being the only inhabitants of his laptop screen?

I’m literally giving myself away I-

He has glasses on and he’s tapping the end of his pen on his chin and at this point I’m hyperventilating

THE FACE HE MAKES WHEN HE CONCENTRATES

From time to time, he would swivel the stool around, take a sip of the black iced coffee he always brews at night, and eat whatever snack was available (e.g. chips, popcorn, sandwiches, instant noodles, sometimes asks Bokuto to make another protein shake, etc.)

He doesn’t really listen to music and can easily drown out the noise on his own because he concentrates so much.

You can always count on him to entertain you

Because despite the amount of focus he puts into his homework and problem sets, he also wants any excuse to tear his eyes of his screen.

He’s good at papers, so he can help you with that in the best way he can

Also asks if you would like to take a break and grab a snack with him

And can be a flirt if he’s in the mood, but when he’s tired, he has a soft and sleepy smile (except he’s not really sleepy because of the coffee, he’s just not putting that much effort)

Although he will annoy and provoke you while the two of you are on break

He’s the best person to cry to when you’re really stressed out.

I want him.

Akaashi’s Atelier:

He literally owns the dining table, his work neatly spread out.

I can almost imagine him studying architecture

But nah I guess he just really likes practicing how to capture anything and everything he can observe

And by capturing, I really mean that there’s a pile of photos there somewhere.

Afterwards, he draws them, paying attention to every detail.

He finishes schoolwork before any of you do.

His concentration surpasses that of Kuroo’s, no joke.

You can’t disturb him when he’s working on his academic requirements, so come back later when he’s sketching the hours away.

If you want to do your paper beside him though? Go.

His concentration is not only top tier but also contagious.

He’ll share the dining table, but only to you and, occasionally, Kuroo.

Bokuto? Only if he’s super emo.

Akaashi’s really nice!

He’ll initiate a conversation with you if you’re taking a break and he’s just on his sketchbook or experimenting with graphic design or something.

If you want to see a passionate but shy Akaashi, ask him what he’s working on.

I just know his eyes will literally light up.

He might be drinking tea, mint tea?

Water most of the time, but he always smells like mint and fresh laundry ahhh be still, my heart

Go to him if you really want to be productive and not get distracted by anything else because his eyes and the way he’s so into what he’s doing might actually be what distracts you

He is the epitome of grace under pressure, such a beautiful human being ha ha ha I wish

Kenma’s Den:

Well, what did you really expect?

Nah, kidding.

Kenma’s the only one in his room because he’s probably streaming.

His audience is mostly up at night, so yeah.

He definitely has ramen, chips, and soda

Which he’s willing to share with you as long as you don’t mess his game up don’t try I swear

Tbh, it’s actually really comforting to stay in his room especially when you’re really stressed out.

You can rest your eyes and take a quick nap.

He knows that he should wake you up after fifteen minutes, so don’t worry about sleeping through the night without finishing your paper.

He’s so sweet please

It’s so comforting to hear his fingers tapping away, a literal lullaby that gets you every time.

At some point, some people probably caught you slipping under his duvet IT WAS YOUR FIRST LOWKEY SCANDAL HAHAHAHAHA

Which lasted for just an hour because Kenma’s viewers knew him enough to know what his facial expressions meant

He definitely can’t help you with your paper. Such a busy boi.

But if he’s in the lobby that’s what you call it, right? of whatever game he’s playing, he’s willing to listen to your rants.

A quiet listener, but you know that he genuinely cares about you.

Massage his shoulders if you can! He likes that.

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☪ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

background photo by NeONBRAND on unsplash

[inkth]

cream of the crop pt. 1

pairing → mygxreader

genre → angst (in future parts), fluff

warnings → for this part, there are no warnings

word count → 6.6k

okAY so fyi this is unedited for now and i might come back to switch certain things up but oh my god in bon voyage there was a part where yoongi got a strawberry milkshake and i stg this was in my wip waaaay before that so when i saw the gif i think i wailed a bit bc he made it literally canon my friends!!!! hope u enjoy this guys im chwishfsdkfhl

Yoongi just wanted a god damn strawberry milkshake to release work stress. not to be grabbed by the arm by a stranger begging him to role play as some perfect boyfriend or another.

There are a variety of absurd experiences Min Yoongi has been unfortunate enough to cross within his current lifetime.

Thinking back, there was that time Yoongi picked up the phone to his childhood best friend Kim Namjoon, who thought he was being robbed by foreigners on the side of the street at one in the afternoon, and frantically asked Yoongi to please come save him by the way its the sidewalk on 44th street bring a gun!

“What kind of fucking robbers let you make a phone call, dumbass?” Yoongi barked into the phone, pretty upset that his afternoon nap was interrupted by some nonsensical disturbance.

“Oh shit Yoongi, you’re probably right,” Namjoon exhales and stays on the phone with him though, as he tries to solve the mystery of the tourists who just wanted to let Namjoon know that he had dropped a couple bills. They were discreetly carrying knives because they were opening a wood carving stand a block over, Namjoon explained later. Yoongi was quite the unamused listener.

There was another time in his already awfully long life when Yoongi himself was found caught in the middle of a fight between a Minecraft gamer and a ballerina carrying a flower vase, but that was a long story where it finally ended with him being released from custody as soon as the police had determined his innocence.

Or that other glitch in his simulation of a life when he had to bring nine cats home with him after work. Yoongi never knew he had a cat allergy, but he learned it the hard way that night as he sneezed so hard for so long till he couldn’t hear anything out of his ears.

So when Yoongi is feeling something in the air tickle his nugget of a brain that he should skip his ritual milkshake tonight and head on home right away to avoid whatever this coming disturbance is, Yoongi does what Yoongi does best, and he ignores his intuition because who cares, what Yoongi wants is his McFreaking milkshake.

Everything goes smoothly. Yoongi successfully orders a milkshake at the bar. He successfully receives the right order. He successfully starts to drink the milkshake in the quiet serenity of two am on a Monday. 

But then he fails to leave as soon as she comes in the door, the same girl who legitimately flings the entrance open like some wild animal and he is so horrified he can’t look away from this scene and makes the mistake of meeting your gaze.

The damage is done, however. He knows you’ve selected him as your prey among the barren tables save for one lady picking up fries togo and the waitress staring at you in fear.

“Lady, please get off me,” he groans, pulling your fingers off his biceps as if they’re blood hungry leeches. His arm is free for maybe a second before your fingers fly back, grip stronger than before and this time Yoongi really can’t do much with just the one tired, exhausted hand; the one that isn’t holding the milkshake glass. 

He’s whispering a string of curses and damnations at One Week Ago Yoongi for slacking with working out. Or any of his past Yoongis, really. He rests his head on the tips of his fingers, weighing down on his elbow angled onto the table.

“You don’t understand,” you wheeze dramatically, eyes round with terror. Uh, hello? I don’t care enough to understand, Yoongi mentally comments. “My parents, they-“

Sure, you might’ve been exaggerating everything a little, but what’s a little show and extravagance when your damn life is on the line? A matter of life and death knows no tranquility.

He looks at you half lidded; boredom and ‘are you really still talking to me Ican’tbelievetheaudacity’ washing over his face doing a whole awful lot to create a grave aura around him. You can physically see the deathly ash gray energy come off him in waves like something from an anime.

At this point, Yoongi’s thinking he might just ditch you, make a run for it to never see your crazy ass again and the idea is so tempting but instead, he responds. He’s not too sure why, although it’s probably ‘cause he’s paid an awful lot for this deliciously overpriced milkshake that has yet to be completely consumed. But the fact of the matter is he does respond, even thought you’re clearly not in the right state of mind and he really should be telling you to go home.

“Listen, they’re not gunna care if your boyfriend’s a bum. It’s your life anyways, why would they care?” Yoongi notices he’s got about another sip or two of his milkshake and then he can hightail it outta this joint and a certain spazz grabbing onto him.

You let go of his arm, thinking maybe you came off a little too strong and run your hands over your hair to pat down the flyaways contributing to the messy, crazed look.

“Now, I really absolutely must get going… miss,” Yoongi has finished his drink with a content sigh, a little disappointed that the experience was partially ruined with your improv tug of war, but content nonetheless. “Don’t worry, I’ll go ahead and take care of your water,” he reassures you dryly and stands up from the bar’s long legged chair, grabbing his expensive leather jacket. The best purchase he’s ever made in his life, he tends to overshare this fact to anything or anyone with two ears and legs, seeing as how he wears it everyday through wind, rain and the scorching heat.

Your eyes flash in one last lunge of desperation and your integrity flies out the window and disappears into the sky like a balloon. Floating away… peacefully, gone forever till all that’s left is your soulless body embarrassing yourself like this on a Monday at two am.

“Please,” you choke out one last time and sincerity taints your voice, everything you’ve depended on relying on this thin line of his consent. 

There’s something about it that Yoongi finds himself hesitating for as his mind reels from the way your fingers grip the end of his jacket sleeve. 

“I really, truly only need your help for a couple days. I-I’ll even pay you.”

Your eyes dart to the floor from his face with your final push, unable to face rejection one last time from help you so ridiculously need. His body halts, and with this, you take it as a sign for your fingers to relax and stop holding his like some child refusing to let go of their lollipop. 

There’s one thing the weary should know, and it’s that one specific thing hits a chord with Min Yoongi that makes him who he is.

“Shit.”

Hana looks up at you in what seemed like concern and a bit of ‘damn, you live like this?’ tainting her face. You keep going back and forth between looking down at your most recent message on your phone and up to her face, still contorted in confusion unable to face the reality that is your life right now.

You’re not okay, this can’t be happening — everything you had worked up for up until this point, only to be destroyed by your parents’ wrath would be the endgame for your life. You need to lie down and forget this day even happened.

“Are you, okay?” She can’t help but emphasize the ‘okay’ with leaning her head in a tilt.

“Hana,” you squeak out, hands pressed against your eyes till you see stars. It’s late, you’re braincell-less from such last minute studying and you’re absolutely, completely fucked. And not in the nice way you normally would want to be.

“My parents are coming over and want to meet Jungkook.”

Hana lets out a strangled gurgle of terror from the back of her throat as she runs her hands through her dark hair and crawls over to you to peer at your phone screen. Now that she knows you’re fucked, you want to throw your phone out the window and run away. Or just throw yourself out the window. You stand up from your sitting position on the floor and take deep breaths counting to ten and back again.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “You’re screwed.”

You twist your face and tell her, “Thank you so very much for the vote of confidence! I’ll just have to remember that while trying to explain everything to my parents.”

Hana’s pained smile emits an apologetic vibe as she continues to voice her thoughts. “Damn. Seriously though… what’re you gonna do, I mean. You still have… two days?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” you wail, falling back to the floor and hoping it’ll somehow open up, and take your body into the recesses of the earthy ground. “Is a day or two even enough time for him to come back from that trip?”

“Wait, you mean you would have your parents actually meet him?” Hana looks over at you incredulously. “Like, we’re talking about your boyfriend Jeon Jungkook, right?”

Backtrack – So, okay, yes maybe you had a few flaws. One of them was the fact that you were maybe a little too prideful. As in it’d physically pain you for your parents to know that your boyfriend was a bum who did absolutely nothing.

You had lied to your parents from the very beginning, pulling off the scam with a few explanations here and there saying, “Oh, no he’s too shy. He won’t take pictures!” when your parents wanted to see who this guy was. The occasional “He can’t meet up with us because he’s studying for his very big exam haha you know how these studious nerds are sorry!”

You wince from her tone, speaking as if he’s a demon sent from hell, and start collecting strands of your hair to comb through with worry.

“I mean, if he were here I could play him up as the guy I made him out to be,” you mused. “They don’t even know what he looks like. Probably think he’s afraid of cameras, poor baby.”

Hana looks slightly revolted from your gently verbalized “uwu” and snaps her fingers to garner your attention back onto the matter at hand.

“Wait- I,” you sat back up, all the blood rushing this way and that causing a weird feeling to consume you and you see black for a good three seconds before it dissipates. “Don’t judge me for what I’m about to say.”

“Done,” Hana nods. “I live with you and judge you enough already.”

You look at her unimpressed, lips curled into an unamused smile.

“How about I get a fake boyfriend? Like, right now?”

Hana doesn’t even know where to begin she laughs because she thinks you’re literally joking but then stops when she knows you’re not. “Uh, you do realize it is two am, Y/N. Where are you planning on going to look for an accomplice to role play your perfect boyfriend?”

“Honestly speaking, I’ll probably have to go to a bar or something.” Just saying this out loud was enough to acknowledge that you yourself were not thinking straight.

“You’re just going to walk into a bar and pick up the first dude you lay eyes on is what you’re implying…” Hana trails off, as she begins to re-evaluate the situation. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you sigh, brushing off your jeans as you stand up. “But this is my only option.”

“Well, you could always tell the truth to your mom and dad. You don’t have to be so full of it, Y/N. And listen, you’re 20 going on 21… how much longer are you going to hide this from your parents? You’re literally an adult.”

You frown and start walking out of the room, grabbing a jacket before you head outside and to the car. “I’m not full of it,” you defend your poor self. “I just need my parents to think I’m living my best life with the best boyfriend so they don’t rub in how they were right all this time or whatever overprotective shit they wanna pull on me.”

Hana holds up her hands as an act of surrendering and picks up your phone from the floor to hand it to you. Before it’s passed off however, a pinging sounds and she calls out the notification.

“Your mom texted you to say–“ Hana squints from how dark your phone’s lighting is. “They’re actually planning on starting to drive over tonight and should make it here by tomorrow evening?”

You start to panic, countless thoughts crashing the calm of your mind like stormy waves as you start to assess your problem at hand. You need to find a fake boyfriend, said fake boyfriend must learn what must be learned about you and said fake boyfriend will need to do a good enough job to keep your parents away forever and hopefully this will work because you don’t know what you’ll do the next time your parents come to “check up” on you because they think something’s fishy with this hypothetical fake boyfriend.

You let out what sounds like something between a sob and a groan as you snatch the phone from Hana’s hands and run out of the house, debating between driving to the nearest diner or running away from home.

See, the problem with your parents were that they were overbearing to the point that they even hated the fact you decided to attend college out of state. Mind them, it was only one state away, but it did absolutely nothing to soothe their constant fretting over your wellbeing and life. You were fed up with the relentlessly strict parental control and went crazy in college – finally dating, drinking and partying – although it was still at a good minimum.

To expose to your parents that you were dating an undecided major who spent the money he could scrounge around for on video games was a one-way ticket to hell so in order to save face and keep up the façade that you in fact were living your best life possible, you dreamt up of the littlest, white lie.

Your boyfriend was a perfect boy. One grade above you, one his way to graduating as a summa cum laude. He had an internship and was already guaranteed a job after college as a biomedical engineering major. You painted the perfect picture so you could present yourself in the best way possible to your parents.

The way your hard work was about to be shattered by the way so many coincidences piled on top of each other was a bit frustrating to say the least. You weren’t sure how you kept this a secret for so long and frankly, how your parents didn’t doubt you from the start but now they believed him to be a camera shy, facetime shy boy that only spent his time studying.

You didn’t even want to start on the numerous occasions you and Jungkook had ended a night fighting because of this ridiculous situation, that sure, you put yourselves in. You weren’t sure why you did this, but of course it wasn’t because you were too prideful.

Yoongi never lets money slip out of his hands. Call him frugal, call him thrifty, he doesn’t care. He just knows that if it’s worth the price, he’ll do it.

“Fine. I’ll do this. But I want cash and I want half of the end amount right now,” he knows he’s being demanding and it does look like you reek of eau de poor college student but with the request you’re making, he thinks it’s only fair.

You look teeny tiny and exhausted from the way you crumple your body on the seat next to him and it’s annoying how much work you’re going through because of a simple lie, but you can’t back out now. The way you’ve been explaining the situation to him is really making you sound a little crazy but hey, you’re only human and this isn’t the weirdest situation Yoongi has ever been in.

“How is this even going to work?” Yoongi looks at you as if you haven’t thought this far ahead. “Haven’t they seen his face? Is he even okay with this? Are you running a scam show? If this turns out to be a mess, I want no part of the repercussions.” He squints at you and crosses his arms, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I’m not stupid,” you roll your eyes and scrunch your face from irritation. “They’ve never seen pictures or anything of his face. I’m thankful my boyfriend doesn’t have social media, but I mean, even if he did my parents are technologically inept, anyways.”

“This is so extra, this is like, almost kind of idiotically stupid,” with a snort, Yoongi continues to doubt you. “I can’t believe I agreed to this. You better pay me the remaining amount as soon as this shit’s done. I’ve got things to do.”

“I’m sure you have so much stuff to do concerning your things,” you bite back and have to hold steady the urge to punch his weak looking noodle arm. Just keep thinking about how grateful you are that this sort of handsome spawn of the devil is agreeing to save your ass and livelihood.

He huffs and has the audacity to look offended, loosely crossing his arms across his chest. “Whatever, run this by me again.”

“Okay,” you sigh. You nearly teeter off the edge of the stool from sleepiness, an untouched glass of water in front of you and you watch the droplets trickle down the sides of the condensating cup. “My name is Y/N and yours is Jeon Jungkook. I’m 20 and you’re 21…”

You start to list off factual information and the details get a little blurry as they re-enter his mind because now it’s almost 3:20 in the morning and Yoongi just wanted a fucking milkshake but now it’s like he’s in college all over again, cramming all the notes and tidbits of information he can into his mind to purge it in five hours on the dreadful test. Even though Yoongi’s suffering, he starts noticing these things about you that’s definitely a little confusing to him and gets him a little worked up but in all the right ways.

He pays attention to the way when you laugh you move to cover your mouth with your hand, it’s kind of endearing. Sure, he’ll admit he thought you were pretty behind the air of desperation and super strange vibes you let out when you first marched into the door. Like, perhaps very pretty. He’s not sure but it might be something to do with the shape of your eyes and the pink of your lips. But the tendency you have to tilt your head when you smile is something that Yoongi starts noticing too and–

Yoongi catches himself thinking these thoughts that are so out of bounds and unnecessarily loud. It’s okay, he mentally argues. These are fake boyfriend feelings and it is late. I am exhausted, I don’t know what I am talking about.

And there you have it folks. Yoongi solves this problem of the Case of Weird Emotions with a simple answer. He’s just a really good fucking actor and can get into character so well that he starts thinking the way his character would. That’s all. And now Yoongi is mentally punching himself because he sounds really fucking weird. And fuck, he needs to stop cursing because he needs to be a well polished, dapper, perfect boyfriend.

He shudders and you see it, not because you’ve been looking at him but because he does it in a really obvious way that calls for attention in your peripheral vision.

“Are you alright?” You ask warily, eyeing him because what if he’s having a spasm attack holy shit?

Yoongi grunts with his absurdly deep voice and says, “Yeah, go on.”

“I wish we had more time,” you whine, rubbing your probably bloated face with sweater paws and something tickles Yoongi’s heart from the way you look and speak although he does his best to ignore it.

“It’s okay, I’ll remember this, I’m pretty sure… let’s just try and come up with a code word or something for me. Like, if I don’t know something I’ll say or do something and you’ll cover for me.”

You nod your head and for the first time that night it seems like you really smile and it’s cute, but not cute enough to swindle Min Yoongi’s heart. Of course not.

“Do you know how to crack your fingers?” You ask after a few moments of deep contemplation.

Yoongi suddenly looks small because he’s shoving his hands in between his thighs to cover them from the cold and you almost coo as he nods his head yes.

“Great,” you look away from his figure to calm yourself. “Just do that and then I’ll fill in. That’s the signal.”

“Does this mean we’re done now?” Yoongi’s voice has gotten raspy over the span of time you’ve spent with him because of how he spent most of it just listening to you and barely opened his mouth.

“I dunno,” you nervously gnaw on your lower lip, another habit Yoongi has picked up on fondly. Or not fondly, not at all… at least only fondly with fake boyfriend feelings. “I’m really not sure how this is going to turn out. Thankfully my friend is going to stay at a friend’s house to avoid more possible complications.”

“Alright then, give me a call tomorrow morning and I’ll get over to your place by two in the afternoon.”

You shake your head, “No, come earlier. We need as much time as possible to go over this. Remember? They’re arriving sometime that night.”

Yoongi groans from the revolting sentence he has just been forced to hear and he cries, “But I can’t! You’ve kept me up for this long evil lady, I should’ve been in bed falling asleep hours ago!”

“I’m sorry,” you feebly offer. “But I really need to nail in a lot more with you.”

Yoongi grumbles a wide variety of things under his breath comprised of but not limited to, “You’re lucky you’re cute”, “Fuck, I need a good ten hours of sleep to retain all this information, though” and “Damn it, I want my money”.

“Fine– 11 is the earliest I’ll be there. And are you sure you’re okay with giving me your freaking address? You’re going to let a stranger know where you live and you’re fine with it,” Yoongi lowers his tone towards the last bit in uncertainty.

“I’ll be fine because my roommate is a police force trainee who has armed me with a panic button along with pepper spray. You’ve been warned,” you wiggle your brows. “Plus you’re my fake boyfriend and you want the money. I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.”

You both get up from your chairs, leaving cash tips and Yoongi’s expression changes into one of respect and newfound admiration.

“Duly noted,” he chuckles as he holds the door open for you to walk through, the brisk, autumnal air enveloping you.

Outside in the parking lot you head towards your car and see only a couple other vehicles, one of them being a motorcycle and you don’t think twice about it till Yoongi is waving goodbye to you as he walks in the direction of it.

“Wait,” you call out and Yoongi immediately halts, turning to face you with an expectant raise of his brow. “That’s your ride?” You point at the motorcycle.

He smirks and shoves his hands into his leather jacket as deep black as the galaxy and his hair swirls around from the wind above his twinkling eyes.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

You groan, wondering if you have enough money to fork up however much it would cost to rent a car. You’re pretty sure you don’t, but if it’s for this boy, the best you could pick out on a quiet Monday morning at two, the cream of the crop, you’ve really got no other choice.

You just hope this cream of the crop has a license to drive a car.

The next morning you wake up at eight, sitting up in your plush bed as memories of last night flood your mind in horror. Restless sleep tightened your neck through the night, stress eating away at you and your ability to sleep peacefully.

You groan, peeking at your alarm clock and take a deep breath before you whip your hair out of your face and harden your resolve by sheer will. You pull of the covers and step out of your room, trailing for the kitchen in order to brew yourself some deeply needed coffee.

“Coffee first,” you mumble. Priorities.

Hana is sitting in the living room, a mug on the coffee table in front of her. She looks up as soon as she sees you enter from the short hallway.

“Mornin’ sunshine, there’s some coffee left for you,” she chippers cheerfully. “You got up pretty early. You’re meeting the man of the hour soon, right?”

“Meh, don’t remind me,” you grumble, shuffling into the kitchen and from the coffee machine, you see her kick her slippers off and finish the last of her homework. You pour the still hot liquid holy grail into your Totoro mug and start to mix in cream and sugar seeing as how you’re not as abhorrent as Hana with her love of black coffee.

“But damn, you were just a wreck last night,” Hana teases. “I can’t believe you really got someone to do something this crazy for a girl they just met.”

“It was the money,” you point out, sipping the first few tastes of coffee. It needs a bit more sugar. “I’m so fucken exhausted! Listen, I don’t even have that kind of money to pay him.” You can hear your stash of hidden cash for emergencies underneath your drawer already crying for help. This could qualify as an emergency, you doubtfully suppose.

Hana is still recovering from the surprise of hearing your insane plan worked, even if she found out last night. You remember how you entered the house, satisfied with how quote on quote smoothly the ordeal went even if you were about to be $600 short on money and stressfully sleep deprived the next morning. Hana walked out of her room with sleepy eyes and a bit of bedhead to you getting ready for bed so early in the morning, although she gained a bit of consciousness after hearing how your plan had indeed, succeeded.

Now that it’s the morning and your adrenaline rush had bled away and you’re in a clearer state of mind, doubt starts to trickle in and you are wondering what in hell you were thinking in the first place. You shake the thoughts away and focus on the task at hand.

“I’ll be getting out of the house soon,” Hana comments, starting to pack up whatever textbooks and notes she’ll need for the next day or two.

“You’re the amazingest,” you gratefully smile at her and try to convey your upmost sincerity. As best you could, at least.

“Yes,” she agrees mindlessly. “I am, aren’t I? I am so amazing—so amazing that I am literally leaving the apartment that I share with you for you and the stranger to bond and learn how to role play as lovers. It sounds crazy, I know, but here we are.”

Your smile fades away as you look at her in playful disbelief. “Go to your room, pack your granny underwear and your granny clothes, and leave this household!”

Hana scrunches her nose in distaste, “They’re not granny clothes! They’re retro! And thongs or whatever strip of fabric you claim are underwear are so uncomfortable, literally leavemealonegoodnightDevil!”

You laugh as she prances to her room to stuff her duffle bag full of clothes she’ll need in order to survive for the time she’s gone and you glance at the clock to see it read 8:30, and you go off to your room to get ready for the very. Incredibly. Extremely, long day ahead.

It is at ten that you have finished cleaning up your room, taken a quick shower and waved off Hana out of the home you two share. You walk back inside after seeing her depart safely promising to text you when she arrives, even though it’s the daytime and she’s just a good ten feet away, you never know what could happen. Even if she’s almost a police officer. 

Which, speaking of, she has reminded you countlessly about, telling you to pass on the message that she will personally come to fuck him up if anything happens to you. You appease her with saying you will, but you sure as hell don’t plan on doing so. 

Closing the door, you sigh deeply and it leaves you a little lightheaded as you lean your back against the door.

“Oh, shit.”

It hits you then that this is really happening. Like, your idiotic plan your brain thought up of that you thought was foolproof was really happening. There were so many holes that could expose you in a second and the thought of you being ousted in front of your parents tugged at your pride riddled mind.

The anxiety twitches your fingers as you pull up your phone and it leaves you staring at his message from last night.

yoongi: see u at 10:30

You forget he suddenly promised an earlier time at the last minute and you reckon you’ve got yourself about twenty or so minutes for him to show up at your door. It’s enough time for you to beat your face with makeup and put on some presentable clothes.

At 10:30 sharp he arrives at the door and it catches you by surprise because he doesn’t seem to be an advocate for timeliness. You tug down at your cropped sweater one last time before you open the door to see Yoongi in all his slightly bloated, freshly showered glory.

He looks a bit nervous, seeing as how he kept worrying over this very situation he should never have gotten himself into over the night not to mention what if you sent him the wrong address. Yoongi’s eyes flit from your face to the room behind you but he manages to keep his jittery 

“Hey,” you sigh in relief. “Thank goodness you’re here. And thanks for coming so early.”

Yoongi loses a bit of the nervousness in his system and seems a bit more relaxed than he was when you first met him, probably because he’s gotten a better grip of his surroundings than last night, when he was completely hit with a curveball. In the face. At 500 miles per hour. In the form of you. HIs face loses the tension in the muscles and his lips take on a nonchalant smile. You also notice he’s wearing the same leather jacket as last night and you wonder if he has anything else available to wear.

“No worries,” he says in that gruff voice of his but he clears his throat quickly and yeah, you notice he’s still pretty high strung. This whole tribulation is probably a first for him too.

“Come on in,” you gesture inside, and make space for him to make through. Not that he needed much anyways being the tiny man he is.

“Alright,” he mutters, stepping into the apartment and slipping off his shoes. He doesn’t really pay attention to the apartment anymore but rather your outfit. You wearing sweatpants that still hug your legs and figure looks really good with the bit of skin exposed under the hem of your cropped Adidas sweater and Oh my God shut up, he scolds his train of thought.

It’s just that psychology of attraction at first sight, or whatever. Sure, it’s not his first time meeting you, sure, but you two have only recently met. Yoongi is certain he is a man of strong will. He would never let himself start feelings these things for someone who is already in a relationship.

He tears his gaze away from you before you can notice his burning stare and starts to run his eyes over the layout.

“Well,” you laugh strangely, trying to cover your skittishness. “This is where I live. I guess we can run over what we talked about last night over there on the couch.”

You point at the black sofa and Yoongi nods, walking over to sit down stiffly.

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask, noticing the way he stays pretty quiet. This won’t do. Your fake boyfriend is a great conversationalist.

“No, I’m fine, let’s just go over what we have to. I don’t wanna mess up…” Yoongi trails off and a hint of concern tinges his voice as you smile.

“Sounds good,” you agree.

“Okay, first things first,” you start reciting the basics as you are sat next to him. Yoongi does a really good job of staying on task at first, he swears. He’s listening intently but all of a sudden he’s thinking about how sweet and pretty your voice is and next thing he knows he’s thinking about how hard it is to just even meet your gaze, because your eyes are just such a wonderful outlet of all your emotions it’s really hard to meet them and not just go on and dive into the pool that is you and then—

“We might have to gel your hair back,” you muse softly and Yoongi is shaken out of his schoolboy crush-like trance.

“Fuck no. No,” Yoongi is firm with his decision, holding his hand out to emphasize his stance. “The forehead stays covered.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand and say, “Fine.”

Yoongi notices once again how you have a habit of doing that when laughing and he hates how it’s pretty adorable. 

“How did you get here, anyways?” You ask suddenly. “Not with your bike, I hope…?”

Yoongi grins at you and you notice that he’s one of those gummy grinners and it does a little something to you but you avoid it at all costs and swallow it down.

“I Ubered here,” he said simply. “I figured I could say my car’s in the shop if your parents ask.”

You widen your eyes and nod in approval. “Brilliant! That’s really good Yoongi, thank God I don’t have to pay for a rent a car.”

“Speaking of payment,” Yoongi is reminded of your debt to him at the passing mention of money but is glowing from your praise. “Need I say more? Don’t worry about the Uber fee, I won’t be holding those against you, call it service.”

“How kind of you,” you grimace, hearing the cries of your emergency money once more, as you tell him to stay put. “I’ll be right back with half of it.”

When you count out 300 and carefully tuck the rest away, you turn around to walk out only to see Yoongi peering in your door, arms crossed and looking quite interested.

You jump at the sudden intrusion-like non-intrusion and scowl, asking, “What are you doing here? You scared me shitless and you’re very lucky I didn’t shriek.”

He shrugged, tousling his dark hair from his eyes and replied, “If I’m gonna be your fake boyfriend, I should know what your room looks like. As your fake boyfriend, of course.”

You groan and tell him, “Get a good, quick look around, because here’s your money and now we’re leaving.” You slap the wad of cash onto his unsuspecting palm and push his shoulders out the door.

“I know you kind of know me because of all the information I might’ve been burning into your mind the past 24 hours about yours truly, but I barely know a thing about you and we’re really acquaintences at best, still.”

Yoongi lets you lead him out of the hall into the living room and with a quick look at your lockscreen, you see that it’s still only 11:14. He stuffs the money in the back pocket of his jeans, which fit him quite nicely around the thigh area, if you may say so yourself. 

“Fine,” he mutters and you barely catch it with your already dull hearing.

“What’s fine?” You ask, sitting down on the sofa as he takes a seat as well.

“I said, fine. What do you wanna know about me?” He asks, finding interest in the boring coffee table.

“Uh,” you trail off, unprepared for this kind of a question. “Wait, do I want to know more about you? I should be thinking of you as my boyfriend Jungkook, putting history and information behind you would make it too easy for me to differentiate…”

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a condescending sigh that you somehow know isn’t very genuine. “Just ask three things about me, so we’re not complete strangers,” he offers a compromising deal.

You let it sit with you for a second. If you made a slip up would you be able to recover? It was already hard enough, calling him Yoongi—already so hard enough that it was weird to remind yourself you’d have to be calling him Jungkook in a few hours. Eh, screw it.

“Where do you work?” You ask your first question tentatively.

“I work as a part time server for now,” he replies as if it’s something of a bother. “At the barbecue place downtown.” You have a brief idea of where it is, having passed by it a few times while you were in the vicinity.

“Alright,” you huffed. “What’s your other part time?”

Yoongi looks a bit confused at first with the way you worded it, but he catches on quickly seeing as how he’s got a fast train of thought.

“Oh, yeah. You remember my bike? I wanna go into autotech service. Or something like that, like engineering,” he vocalizes his thoughts and grows a bit red.

“That’s really awesome,” you smile at him and he grows comforted by the idea of you approving his passion. Although he shouldn’t be so—

“Do you have a girlfriend?” This question takes you back by surprise too, and you swear it was a slip of your tongue.

“I—“ Yoongi wasn’t ready, didn’t even think you were one bit interested in his love life but he answers directly. “No.”

For some reason you like hearing that answer, something like satisfaction burns at your tongue and heart and you don’t understand why when you have a perfectly cute boyfriend named Jeon Jungkook (the real one) you can call yours.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where that came from,” you giggle nervously.

Yoongi brushes it off and breathes evenly. He’s not sure why he’s worked up uncomfortably like this and he wants to skip to the part where this is all over and he goes back to moping around, living out his normal, daily routine.

We are acquaintances, he keeps reminding himself.

You two end up talking about yourselves a bit more, because pictures of your dog reminds him of his dog and from there the conversation flows a little too perfectly because now you’re intrigued by the mystery that is Min Yoongi and you want to know more and everything about him. This goes on for the next six hours and it’s filled with so much talking and laughing and you’ve even cooked up lunch because oh my goodness you found ingredients to make pancakes.

Then dawn rolls around as if it’s only been a mere thirty minutes and to be honest, it feels likes you know Min Yoongi more than your own boyfriend Jeon Jungkook.

You shake that last thought off, startled from the way you so abruptly stated that. Internally, of course. 

Yoongi’s barely opened his mouth to ask you another question when-

The doorbell rings and it echoes throughout the inside of your home and holy shit it feels so intimidating and loud and Yoongi just isn’t ready, but can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now if he’s this scared of what’s to come. 

You glance at him almost as if you’re seeking refuge in someone’s comfort so he grits his teeth a bit because between the two of you, he realizes he’s got to stay the rock.

Yoongi narrows his eyes until they resemble somewhat to a feline’s. He’s the rock.

And not just in the Dwayne Johnson sort of way.

oooooookay oh my goodness this is unedited but i wanted it off my shoulders before i got to work so here this is please enjoy but send me feedback or anything you'd like through my inbox thanks!!!