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shuadotcom · 1 year

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Push & Pull | KSY (M)

Summary: Something has to serve as payment for him being a constant nuisance multiple times a week, and if it’s him on his knees for you, then so be it. Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x Fem!Reader Genres & AUs: Smut, enemies with benefits au, office rivals au, pwp Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED) Warnings: Profanity, dirty talk, sub!soonyoung, dom!reader, pet names (baby boy, good boy, miss, baby), degradation (soonyoung is called a slut), oral (f. receiving), fingering, panty/coochie sniffing, protected sex, spitting, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, handjob, gag usage, soonyoung is absolutely pussy whipped and pussy drunk Words: 5.1k Note: Wishing a very, very happy birthday to my amazing, lovely wife @horanghater! I love you so much and I hope you enjoy sub Hoshi 😘

Thank you sososo much to @playmetheclassics for this phenomenal banner and for being my lovely, wonderful beta as always! ❤️ 🫶🏽 Net Tag: @kflixnet

“Hey, Y/n, quick question,” your manager starts, peering into your office.

Will any question at work ever truly be quick?

“Yeah, what’s up?” You look up at Seungcheol, tired eyes easily getting replaced with your best corporate smile.

“Would you mind throwing together a slide for the team meeting tomorrow? It can just be a bullet point list about the designs we’re working on - nothing fancy.”

“Sure, should I include-”

“Hey, Hyung! I did a slide already! I remembered you were leaving early today for an appointment, so I put it together for you earlier.”

Kwon Soonyoung. The most vexing co-worker and human being on the fucking planet.

“Oh, thanks Soonyoung. Can you email it to me?”

“On it!” Soonyoung’s phone is in his hand, and he’s already typing something on the screen. “Done!”

“Thanks! Looks like you’re off the hook, Y/n.” Seungcheol nods in your direction before disappearing out of the doorway once again.

Soonyoung throws a smarmy smirk your way and ducks out of the room before you can say anything to him.

The usual wave of irritation you get whenever you’re in the same room as Kwon Soonyoung washes over you, but you push it down.

In all of the time you’ve been an adult in the working world, you’ve never met someone as annoying as Soonyoung. He’s been an expert at pushing your buttons since he started working at your company six months ago.

When he was hired, you didn’t think anything of him at first. He came into the office, introduced himself, and seemed nice enough, if not loud as all hell. As his time wore on, your disdain for him quickly started.

It started with him giving you unsolicited advice and opinions on your work presentations and projects. He’d comment on the formatting or suggest content. He did it often enough that your dislike for him took over immediately, and he’d only been around for a month so far.

From there, it was trying to one-up you on projects or even get some milestones in assignments done before you or try to do something better than you, just to fuck with you. You’re highly respected and loved at your job, so to have some guy that just started questioning you and competing with you was extremely insulting.

From there, he only continued to piss you off each time you came into contact with him. Whether it was taking the last of whatever free food was in the office, using the last of the paper in the printer and not refilling it, or taking too long in a meeting room you booked - all of which he always just so happened to do only to you - Kwon Soonyoung always got under your skin more than anyone else.

Your months-long beef stayed firm before coming to a head at a company outing at a nearby karaoke place.

Soonyoung, as usual, just had to try and outdo you and get a higher score than you at each song you chose. The alcohol coursing through you that fogged your brain left you at your wit's end, and the urge to kick his ass was strong.

Somehow, that didn’t happen, and instead, you cornered him in the bathroom to tell him off, finally telling him how much he pissed you off and demanding to know why he was so insistent on being a constant thorn in your side.

“You’re so hot. You’re even hotter when you’re pissed off, and you look like you want to strangle me.” He had blurted out, face fiery and crimson, before kissing you right then and there.

You were both drunk, so the rest is a blur until you found yourself aggressively jerking him off in one of the stalls after he had quite literally begged to eat you out.

Once you sobered up the next morning, you quickly realized the full impact of what you’d done and swore to yourself it was just a drunken mistake and that it wouldn’t happen again.

As these things go, it did in fact, happen again. And again. And again.

You’re well aware that the two of you should sit down and talk about this push and pull you constantly do, but the idea of him rearranging your guts always wins out in the end. Plus, the only time Soonyoung knows when to shut the fuck up is when you’re naked behind closed doors so you’ll do anything to do just that. Be it in his office early in the morning, or in your office during lunchtime even in empty meeting rooms, closets, in your cars, and occasionally in either of your apartments after work. If Soonyoung really aggravated you enough in a day, you’d have him in the palm of your hand, figuratively and literally, within hours of his initial offenses.

Something has to serve as payment for him being a constant nuisance multiple times a week, and if it’s him on his knees for you, then so be it.

By the time lunch rolls around, you’ve cooled off from your earlier annoyance and replaced your irritation with hunger. The only thing on your mind is your leftover Thai fried rice waiting for you in the fridge.

The cool air of the refrigerator feels nice against your skin as you excitedly scan for your styrofoam container. You quickly realize you don’t see it as you see everything but your food.

Confusion sets in as you move a few things around, assuming it may have been pushed to the back and out of sight, but your search quickly comes up empty.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, shoving aside a personal pizza and someone’s lunchbox. You know you brought it today, recalling your morning. You brought the rice in the styrofoam container and put it in a plastic bag. You set it to the left of the fridge on the middle shelf and -

“What’s wrong, Y/n?” His voice is loud. It startles you as he suddenly yells across the lunchroom.

With a deep breath, you close your eyes, needing to take a moment before answering him.

“Looking for my lunch,” you answer, still scanning the shelves.

“What does it look like?” You can tell he’s eating with his mouth open, making you scowl.

“White styrofoam in a white plastic bag.” Letting out a sigh, you stand upright, slamming the fridge door in frustration. Your eyes finally shift to Soonyoung, wondering why he hasn’t badgered you with another question.

His arm is frozen in mid-air, a spoonful of rice hovering in front of his open mouth.

The scene would be comical if it wasn’t your lunch that Soonyoung has already eaten half of.

“That’s my lunch!” You blurt. A couple of your coworkers side-eye the two of you from a few tables away.

“Shit, my bad, Y/n! I asked everyone whose it was, and no one knew. There was no name on it!” The twitch of his mouth makes you wonder just how sorry he actually is.

Everything in you wants to curse him out, maybe flip the rest of the rice over on him and dump his soda over his head for good measure. It’s only your countless years of corporate experience that keeps you in check and keeps Soonyoung from getting his ass beat.

Inhaling harshly through your nose, you bite back the words, wanting to explode. “Stop by my office before you head home for the day,” you hiss through gritted teeth. You know he hears you even though your tone is low.

Outwardly you huff and storm off, not giving him a response. That’s frequently your reaction to all of Soonyoung’s antics when others are around, so everyone in the vicinity expects this reaction.

They’re wrong of course because you’re not done getting Soonyoung back, just in a way that no one in the office knows about and can never know.

The voices outside of your office start to lessen significantly the later in the afternoon it gets until it sounds absent of people movement except for you and the man you know is a few offices down.

Over the sounds of your fingers on the keyboard, you can hear his loafers lightly squeaking under his feet, the sound getting nearer until you finally see out of the corner of your eye, Soonyoung popping around the corner.

“You wanted to see me?” His words are innocent, but the knowing smirk on his face that you see when you finally look at him tells you he knows exactly why you told him to see you, and he’s looking forward to it.

“Close the door and make sure it’s locked.” He quickly does as you say while you shut down your computer, officially done with your day. The man across the room from you practically bounces on his heels as he stares at you, awaiting your next move. You take your time standing up, gathering some of the papers and knick-knacks closest to you, and pushing them to the opposite side of the desk.

Finally, you stand up straighter, giving Soonyoung your undivided attention

“Sit,” you gesture to your plush desk chair. Soonyoung doesn’t have to be told twice, all but skipping over and plopping in your chair. His brown eyes glisten with anticipation as he looks up at you, gaze trained on you as you situate yourself directly in front of him.

Letting out a sigh, you hop up to sit on your desk, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why do you insist on always pissing me off, Soonyoung?”

He fights back a smirk. “I can’t help it, Y/n. I just love how sexy you look when you get mad at me. The little crinkle between your eyes, the cute little pout on your lips. You’re doing it now, you know.” Cockiness is evident as he observes you, shameless as he always is when talking about parts of you that he likes.

You scoff. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know, Y/n. I guess you’ll have to punish me.” The quirk of the corners of his mouth makes you roll your eyes.

“Hmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You slowly cross and uncross your legs, ensuring that he catches an eyeful up your skirt as you do.

“Do your worst.” Soonyoung doesn’t hide his unabashed grin this time. He’s gotten too used to you bossing him around when you fuck.

Wanting to get on with it, you hike up your skirt, giving him a full frontal view of your baby blue panties.

As eager and willing as Soonyoung is, he also has some semblance of sense left and doesn’t make a move to touch you. He knows that’s against the rules.

It’s your turn to smirk at him as he gnaws at his bottom lip as you pull your skirt up more, bunching the material at your waist.

His hands clench in his lap, physically holding himself back from pouncing on you. You love it - watching Soonyoung restrain his desire to take what he wants but remembering that that wouldn’t be allowed. From the first time you started messing around with him, Soonyoung wasted no time showing you how much he loved you, directing him, and demanding what you wanted from him, and it never failed to have you soaking through whatever you were wearing.

“Look at you,” you sneer at him, spreading your legs completely. “You wanna eat me out so bad, don’t you?”

Soonyoung furiously nods, his eyes never leaving your clothed core. “So bad. Fuck I can smell you from here,” he groans, licking his lips.

“Oh yeah? I suppose you can at least get a sniff if you want.”

With your legs as wide as is comfortable, you beckon him with a crook of your finger. Soonyoung shoots forward, burying his nose right into the cotton fabric clinging to you, and takes a deep inhale, exhaling shakily. His nose nudges the rapidly forming wet spot on your panties, and you hear him breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth again.

“Mmm, you smell so fucking good,” he’s speaking more to your crotch than you, taking a few more long sniffs before you decide that’s enough.

“I suppose you can have a taste now, if you’re still interested.”

Soonyoung immediately yanks your panties down, moving before you even finish the end of your sentence. He lets your underwear dangle on one of your ankles before quite literally diving mouth-first into your pussy.

His first destination is your clit as he eagerly sucks the bud into his mouth, and you jolt at the spike of pleasure. His tongue swirls around your clit, alternating between that and grazing you now and again with his teeth.

Your back arches off your desk as he moves his head down to stick his tongue into you, lewdly lapping at your wetness, groaning with each slurp. His hands grip your thighs, holding them apart and digging his fingers into your supple skin.

He’s told you before just how much he loves eating you out, and at first, you dismissed his words, skeptical of him. Guys always said shit like that but never truly delivered. Soonyoung did, though - once making you cum seven times over half an hour with just his mouth and fingers.

Every time you fucked him, he learned more and more about everything you liked and didn’t like in bed and where and how to touch you. It’s alarming how expertly Soonyoung became the best fuck you’ve probably ever had, which you’ll never admit to him, but it’s the reason you keep allowing this.

A yelp escapes your lips which you have to quickly stifle as Soonyoung gets lost between your thighs, practically making out with your sticky folds. He’s mumbling praises against your damp skin, saying something about how he wants to live and die between your legs, his nose nudging your clit between words and licks.

Your fingers fly to grasp his hair to keep him in place. Soonyoung grunts into you as he plunges his tongue back into you and stays there, letting you rock your hips against his face. You don’t care that you’re the one moaning now, breathy mewls leaving your mouth as you get closer, your stomach twisting and legs tensing around Soonyoung’s head.

When you cum, your teeth clamp onto your bottom lip, fingers digging into Soonyoung’s scalp as you hold him in place and ride out the pleasure.

He lets you, too, groaning into you, the sound high-pitched and broken as his tongue desperately slurps up your juices. He doesn’t stop there either, of course. Soonyoung never lets you cum only once, and you never really try to stop him.

Two of his thick fingers slip into you as his mouth latches onto your clit.

“S - Soonyoung!” He whimpers from between your legs as you say his name and starts fucking his fingers into you harder, sucking your clit in a way that lets you know he wants you to cum just as badly as you do.

You’re already so sensitive that it doesn’t take too much else for Soonyoung to have you making a mess of his face again, and just as always, he dutifully cleans you up, humming at the taste of you on his tongue - his favorite flavor, he loves to remind you.

Mustering up your remaining energy, you push him back and away as he whines in protest, your slick completely covering from his nose to his chin. Soonyoung flops against your chair, eyes trained on your messy cunt, his critical thinking officially gone as he fixates only on you. The sight alone is enough to have a new wave of wetness gather between your legs.

Soonyoung’s eyes follow as you reach down to pull off your panties completely and set them on the desk. Eyeing the obvious bulge straining against his black slacks, you shake your shoe off one foot and completely rest your foot on his thigh. Soonyoung holds his breath as your foot trails up slowly until you rest it on his crotch. He jumps a little in the chair when you add pressure, teasing him with short strokes.

A curse falls from his lips as you rub against his length, his high-pitched gasps getting to you, but you’re not ready to give him what he wants just yet.

He tries to protest when you move your foot away, but you fix him with a look that makes him shut up.

On shaky legs you shimmy off of your desk and lean forward, undoing Soonyoung’s pants. He lifts his hips as you ease both his pants and underwear down to pool at his feet. He gasps as the cool air of your office hits his erection, but it’s quickly replaced by a moan when you wrap a hand around his girth and pump.

The room is quiet save for the sounds Soonyoung makes as you ease into his lap, your hand still working him. You trail your other hand up his arm, fingers walking up to the nape of his neck.

Tangling your fingers in the fine hair, you pull him down, swallowing his moans in a kiss. Plush, needy lips move over yours, your teeth clacking together as you stroke Soonyoung faster. You can still taste yourself on him, which has you clenching harder and sucking his tongue into your mouth. His hands grab your thighs, hips moving faster, breathing getting more erratic.

With a smirk, you break the kiss, and Soonyoung throws his head back. His skin is red, neck and cheeks are flushed, a bright scarlet color that looks delectable on him.

“Look at you, baby boy. So close already just from eating me out?”

“Mmhmm! Fuck, I love eating your pussy….”

“Yeah? You think you should get a reward for making me cum?”

He nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing rapidly as you twist your wrist the way you know he likes and lean forward to lick a stripe up the expanse of his neck. Soonyoung’s hands dart up to grasp your waist, his blunt nails clawing at the fabric of your skirt.

You sink your teeth into the skin just above his collarbones, and he says your name in a yelp. The muscles in his thighs clench so hard you can feel them stiffen under you. Right as his breathing quickens even more, and you know he’s going to cum, you wrap both hands around his girth and squeeze hard, stopping him from cumming.

Soonyoung choked yelp, eyes shooting open to stare wildly at you.

“Why should I make it that easy for you when you pissed me off today?”

“Please, I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, I’m sorry!” He’s pleading, with you, hands trembling as he grips your waist.

With a hum, your thumb massages his leaking tip, smearing precum all over the sensitive tip. With both hands, you jerk him off again, placing little kisses on his lips and chin. Soonyoung practically purrs your name as he builds up to his peak again, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.

Just as before, you don’t allow him, removing both hands completely before he can cum.

He cries out again, and you swear you can see actual tears pooling in his eyes. Soonyoung lets out the cutest, most pathetic sounds, apologizing to you again, begging again.

“You wanna cum that bad?”

“So bad! So so so bad!” Wet eyes lock onto yours, bottom lip jutting out as he whispers again that he’s sorry for earlier. You hate how pretty he looks like this, red and teary-eyed just for you.

Your hands start a slow pace on his length again. He watches, eyes glazing over as your lips purse, and you let a string of saliva drip down, mixing with his precum.

You work him up one final time, even playing with his balls, before you pull your hands away again.

“Nooo! Please, please, Miss please, let me cum!” Soonyoung babbles at you, pulling you closer to him by your hips.

Tugging his hair, you pull his head back. “You wanna cum that bad, huh?”

“I need it, Miss, please, it hurts!”

A tear slips out the corner of his eye, and you can’t help but take a little pity on him, but you mostly want him to fuck the remaining irritation out of you like he so often does.

“If you want to cum it’ll be in my cunt.” Soonyoung’s ‘yes’ is loud and eager, quickly bending to the side to dig a shaky hand into the back pocket of his pants to present a condom to you.

Letting out a small laugh, you take the package, open it, and roll it on him. “Good boy. You came prepared for me?”

“Yes, always. Always good for you!” This version of Soonyoung is so different from the version everyone else sees. When it’s the two of you, he’s so pliant and submissive - a drastic difference from the Soonyoung that cheerily greets people from across the office in the morning and is always laughing loud enough for everyone in a 5-mile radius to hear.

Once the rubber is snug on him, you lift up a little sink onto him, Soonyoung’s eyes closing so tightly you think he’ll give himself a headache. Your eyes slip closed, too, letting him stretch you out inch by inch until he’s sheathed in you completely.

The number of times you’ve fucked Soonyoung is too many to count, but each time you love how full he makes you feel. His length almost too much for you to handle.

With you on top, you control the pace, so you move your hips slowly, adjusting to him for a few moments. Soonyoung wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer to him so that your clothed chest is pressed against his cheek.

His eyes are still closed as he moans into your cleavage, your name amongst the words he mumbles. You anchor your knees on either side of him and begin bouncing in his lap, the chair squeaking in protest with every drop of your hips.

When you and Soonyoung are together, and he knows that there’s a chance you’ll get caught, he’s usually good at keeping himself in check even if it pains him, but when you’re somewhere with total privacy, he’s all high-pitched cries and whines. He doesn’t hold anything back, and this time is no different. Needy mewls tumble out of his mouth as he thrusts up, his hips meeting yours and nearly knocking you off balance.

“Fuck, Y/n!”

“Feel good, Soonie? Your hands rest on his shoulders, digging your nails into his broad shoulders.

“Incredible holy shit! Always so p-perfect. You’re s-so perfect!”

The praise does get you, more wetness seeping out around his length as you ride him harder, the backs of your thighs almost sticking to his thighs with sweat. Soonyoung lets out more sounds of desperation, his breathy sobs bouncing off your office's white walls.

To occupy his loud mouth, you yank your shirt and bra up to bunch around your neck and bring his head down. Without even needing to be told, he latches onto one of your nipples as you ride him, and his other hand, not holding your waist in a death grip, moves up to cup your other breast. Soonyoung’s tongue flicks at your nipple, twirling the muscles around the nub before sloppily sucking it back into his mouth.

“Fuck…you’re so good with your mouth Soonie,” you curse, arching into his face more as you swivel your hips. Your words only spur him on, making him lap at your nipple with even more urgency as he moans out around you.

Somewhere through your haze, you hear the sound of the office door slamming in the distance. You slow your movements, telling Soonyoung to shut up, but he doesn’t. Even with your tit in his mouth, he’s still mewling loud enough that if anyone were to stand in front of your door, they’d surely hear him.

Looking over your shoulder at the closed door, your eyes take note of your blue panties still on your desk. Leaning back, you snatch them up and shove them into Soonyoung’s mouth mid-moan. He groans deep in his chest, but the fabric muffles him enough that you don’t think you'll get caught.

You can hear faint voices somewhere in the office but can’t make out who it is or where exactly they are. Soonyoung doesn’t even seem to notice, so wrapped up in thrusting his hips up into yours, chasing his peak.

“Needy boy. You wanna cum so bad you don’t even care that we could get caught,” your tone is low as you whisper in his ear, your teeth catching briefly on his lobe.

He mumbles something around your underwear that you can’t make out, but he’s nodding as he says it.

“Mmm, what a slut. So pussy drunk and desperate to cum.” More tears well in Soonyoung’s eyes as he nods again, letting out more inaudible words.

The squeak of your desk chair suddenly seems ten times louder now that the two of you have to be quiet, and your knees are starting to hurt, so you stop moving and ease him out of you.

Soonyoung furrows his eyebrows, your soiled underwear quieting his noises as he attempts to make grabby hands at you.

You can’t help but giggle at him. The sight in front of you is equally cute and one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. Hopping back onto your desk, you drop your thighs open, presenting yourself to him.

“Come on and fill me up like a good boy,” you whisper, your fingers moving to spread your sopping folds to tease him a bit more.

Soonyoung typically doesn’t need to be told anything twice when you’re hooking up. He’s out of the chair and burying his cock into you in record time, fucking into you as if his life depends on it. He drags you almost to the end of your desk as he rocks his hips, his thighs smacking into the back of yours.

The sound of skin against skin may very well be just as loud, maybe louder, as his sounds, but the drag of Soonyoung’s cock against your walls is too good for you to care very much at this point. If you can finish quickly enough you doubt you’ll get caught anyway.

“Ah, yes…you’re fucking me so good, Soonie!”

From above you, Soonyoung grunts, eyes slipping closed as he ruts against you, fingertips pressing bruises into your thighs, the slight pain shooting straight to your core. Bringing your legs up, you wrap them around his waist and pull him closer, sweaty bodies pressing together, which allows him to plunge in and out of you faster. Soonyoung’s body weight holds you against the desk, his eyelids drooping as drool dribbles from the corner of his mouth, your panties still between his teeth.

“You better not cum before me, or I won’t touch you for days.” You warn him between heavy breaths, already knowing he’s getting closer.

His eyes finally focus, boring down into yours. He fumbles to fit one of his hands between your bodies to press his fingers against your clit, your body jolting at the stimulation.

“Shit, just like that! Make me cum all over your cock, baby.”

His eyes are wide and full of lust as he watches your face, observing how your mouth hangs open, eyes screwing shut. Teasing him as much as you did already put you on edge, so it only takes a few more deep thrusts and flicks at your clit to have the band in your stomach snap. You clamp your hand over your mouth, back arching and eyes rolling back as you cum.

Soonyoung drops his head into your neck, his body shaking violently as he cums right after you, letting out muffled cries into your skin.

Both of you can barely control your breathing as you come down, listening and waiting for the voices in the office to fade. Once the front office door slams shut again, everything outside of your door is still again.

Weakly, Soonyoung eases himself out of you and slumps in your chair, pulling your underwear out of his mouth and letting it land in his lap. You pull your tired body upright and move to grab your nearby tissues to clean up, but Soonyoung springs forward to grab the box and wipes you up instead.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung breathes out once you’re cleaned up.

Rolling your eyes at him, you pull your shirt back down, then your skirt, rearranging your clothes.

“You’re buying me a new lunch tomorrow,” you finally say as you ease yourself off of your desk. Soonyoung shoots you the same shit-eating grin he gives you when everyone else is around as he pulls his pants back up.

“Sure, I can do that. Sorry again about that. I swear I didn’t know it was yours.” His grin tells you otherwise.

“Mmhmm.” The skeptical look you give him makes him chuckle.

You accept his answer, already knowing that there are plenty of things he does with the sole intent of getting you to fuck him for it later. The lunch stunt is one of those things.

Soonyoung fixes his clothes and leaves your office, heading to his own to get his things as you gather your bag and phone.

The both of you turn your lights off and walk out of the office and to the parking lot together. He rambles about some new show he’s watching, and you only half listen. Neither of you ever seems to make a move to make this thing you have be anything more than what it is, but in true Soonyoung fashion, he still makes sure to be his normal self, running his mouth as if you hadn’t been degrading the man not too long ago.

“See you tomorrow, Y/n.” There’s a look on his face that tells you to expect more fuckery from him tomorrow.

“Bye, Soonyoung.” You give him a tiny smile, but only for a second, with emphasis on tiny.

It isn’t until you get home and start to undress for a shower does it hit you that you’re not wearing your underwear.

Soonyoung took your fucking panties. You snatch your phone from the counter to text him.

[Y/n] Kwon Soonyoung, you better bring me my fucking underwear tomorrow!

He texts you back almost immediately.

[Kwon Soonyoung] Oh no, did I take them? Guess you’ll have to punish me for it 🫢

As always, Soonyoung is still the most irritating person you’ve ever met, which you know will never change.

161 notes · View notes

okkotsuus · 1 year

Text

meddle about (ryusei s.) !

features: ryusei s.

contents: post bllk au. shidou is an ADULT. pro!shidou. reader lives in italy. alcohol (bar setting). bar fight (shidou is himself). nosebleed. strangers to lovers. kissing. implied sex. suggestive. angst if you squint. fluffy at the end. i love shidou. 2.8k words

tags: @17020

you met ryusei shidou in a bar after he scored a game winning goal for his football club. currently he was signed for some group in italy, near your town.

his entire team was out to celebrate, slinging back shots like they would die tomorrow.

you sat alone on a barstool, stirring some fruity drink a random person had bought you. you had no intention of leaving with them, though. they had been talking about themself for the last twenty minutes. the last thing that was said pertaining to you, was when they had asked what drink you would like.

“-and so i said: that’s crazy! i mean, the guy was just-”

their words slipped in one of your ears and went right out the other. you couldn’t even remember what they were talking about, nodding idly as you took a sip of the strawberry daiquiri in front of you.

in the blink of an eye, the person had finally stopped talking, now looking at you with a trace of anger. you already knew what was coming as you swallowed down the last of the drink, watching as they got their words together.

“i don’t think they’re interested, bud.” the voice that spoke behind you had a sort of menacing gravel to it, one that you had never heard before. you spun around to see a roman sculpture of a man, blond hair with pink tips and a smirk sharp enough to cut steel.

“and who the hell are you?!” the person who had been mindlessly blabbing to you for the past half-hour stood up. in a miserable attempt to size up the man behind you, who easily towered over them, his figure was enough to have you gulping.

this was someone you had never seen before. must be new to town. that’s when you recognized him, from the game that was playing earlier today in this same bar. shidou ryusei, a new transfer to the city’s soccer team, who had made quite the name for himself in just ninety minutes.

“heh, i should be the one asking that…” with that, the man jumped up and side-kicked the person directly in the center of their chest; sending them crashing back into a couple other bar stools.

his magenta eyes met yours right after his feet reconnected with the ground, cocky smirk still stretching widely across his face. while his eyes flicked over your being, as if studying you, the other person had gotten back up.

they charged him with vengeance, successfully landing a clean hit across his nose, before the footballer had knocked him back to the ground. but this time, he was pissed. he cracked his knuckles as he eerily approached the semi-unconscious form.

luckily for them, but unluckily for shidou, a bartender saw and had security escort the blond out. and for some reason, you were thrown out as well, the cold air nipping any exposed skin.

shidou stood next to you, blood dribbling from his right nostril, which he quickly swiped with the back of his hand: letting it smear across his face. his gaze trailed back over to you, crawling up your form, cheshire-like grin returning to his features.

“what’dya say you and i have some fun, sweet thing?” the rasp of his voice sent shivers different from the cold down your spine. it suddenly felt quite hot, despite the clear puffs of your breath seen in the air. his hand was outstretched, waiting for you to take it.

his eyes were so intense, as if they were glowing. the smeared blood on his face that he got sort-of for you did not help to fan the flames burning under your collar.

so, you took his hand.

just like that he pulled you flush against his form, his other hand reaching to smush your cheeks together: making your lips pout. his touches were searing against your skin, your eyes growing half lidded as he looked at you.

his lips were hovering above yours, breath fanning against your own. the clouds that your heavy breathing made mixed with his own. you inched forwards, bumping your nose against his. that was all he needed.

he surged forward, lips pressing against your in a way that had your back arching to bear the brunt of the impact. he dragged his lips against yours in a slow drawl, forcing you to grip onto his biceps to ground yourself. when his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, you opened to it with no thought.

every slide of his lips and nip of his teeth sent you further and further into a haze, no longer yearning to breathe: for it means you would have to part from him.

but he parted first, chuckling as you chased him by leaning yourself forward. his hand let go of your cheeks, instead running down the side of your body. he leaned to whisper in your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

“why don’ we go back to mine?”

when you woke up with a tanned and muscular arm wrapped around you, you knew you screwed up: big time.

pro athletes meant publicity, publicity meant paparazzi, paparazzi meant there was no way someone didn’t see the two of you. the buzz you had last night was not nearly enough to give you the mercy of forgetting everything that had happened the night prior. from the kiss that swept you off your feet to everything after, you remembered it all.

you tried to slide out of his arm, to do the walk of shame in peace while he slept, but his grip simply tightened. a groan slipped between his swollen, parted lips. you couldn’t help the heat that crept up the back of your neck, screwing your eyes shut to try to stop the memories of a familiar sound from playing.

at the sound of shuffling, you looked back to see his eyes peek open, glazed with sleep. after blinking a couple of times, he realized he was awake.

“oh damn, that wasn’t jus’ a really good dream..?” his voice was even rougher than before, sleep doing god’s work and blessing your ears. you shyly nodded and began to get up, wanting to leave before awkwardness ensued. but, that toned arm just pulled you right back down; into his chest.

“where’re you goin’ sweetie?”

“home, don’ wanna make it awkward.” you avoided his gaze as you rustled around a bit to escape his grip, failing. he just chuckled against your shoulder, the scent of mahogany teakwood filling your senses.

“nah, don’t worry, lemme make ya breakfast.” with that he stood, pulling on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers. he slowly padded away, allowing you to slip your clothes back on before following.

when you left his room you were a bit surprised at the size of his apartment. the team must've paid a lot to have him: meaning he was pretty damn good at soccer.

you approached his kitchen, watching his back as he flipped a pancake in the pan. he was ripped, even when just doing something simple like holding a pan and spatula.

you leaned comfortably against his granite countertops while waiting for him to finish, sipping at the mug of coffee he had gestured to when you entered. his hair was even pretty badass when it was down, it seemed like his razor-sharp eyeliner was some sort of tattoo because it was still intact.

“done, here ya go.” he slid a plate and fork over to you, watching with anticipation as you bit into the fluffy cake. for how he looked, he wasn’t half bad at cooking.

“so-” both of you had spoke at the same time, immediately erupting into giggles at it. shidou cackles like a hyena, which oddly suited him.

you set down your plate, deciding to lead the conversation. “you play football, right? saw your match the other day, that was a sick goal.” his eyes practically lit up. he began to excitedly go on a tangent about soccer and his passion. but unlike the person at the bar last night, it did not peeve you in the slightest. rather, it was quite endearing.

“so, about last night.” there it was, the dreaded conversation. you already knew that he would never want to see you again. this was an incredible danger to his career, you had already accepted it.

“i’m sorry, you won’t ever have t’see me again.”

“we should keep in touch, it was great.”

again, you both spoke simultaneously. but this time there was an awkward silence attached to it. he stared at you with some form of shock in his eyes as you immediately felt so incredibly embarrassed.

“nah, wanna see you pretty damn often.”

you and shidou had a no-strings attached sort of relationship. you only messed around with him and vice versa, but you weren’t officially anything. to be fair, you had only met him just the other day, about a week ago. but he already had you feeling some type of way.

here you lay, in his bed, right before he has the biggest game of his career with this team. he was pumped full of adrenaline in anticipation, being a menace as usual.

you laid with your head resting on his chest, the erratic beating of his heart was what you assumed to be nervousness for the game tomorrow. so, you felt the need to try to alleviate his worries somehow.

“ryusei, you’re gonna do great tomorrow, i’ll be cheerin’ for ya.” his hold on you tightened as a breathy chuckle rasped from deep in his chest. his magenta eyes traced you, softer this time, like how they did when he had first met you.

his hand reached up to ruffle your hair, grin splitting his lips.

“thank ya, havin’ a sweet thing like you cheerin’ me on will make me win.” shidou had bought you vip tickets, right next to the green. he said that seeing you while he played would help keep him motivated. due to soccer’s less appropriate nature for him, he claimed that having you there would help intensify it for him: somehow allowing him to play better. you knew it was bullshit, but it was sweet enough, so what’s the harm?

“you better, or i’ll end up cryin’ about it.” his cackle had you smiling again, back to himself. he hugged you, burying his face into the crook for you neck. his breath fanned over your skin as you felt your cheeks begin to feel warmer and warmer.

somehow, along the way of this ‘no-strings attached’ relationship, you had fallen for ryusei shidou. and you had fallen deep.

at the fear of possibly ruining what you had, you decided to keep quiet about it. ryusei shidou was like a wild animal, he had burst into your life. you worried that if you scared him off, he would crash right out of it too.

that fear was what kept your mouth shut as you whispered “goodnight,” desperately wishing to tag on an ‘i love you’ to the end of it.

so, you would be satisfied with what you could get, lest you end up losing it in pursuit of more.

“g’night sweet thing.”

the stands erupted in cheers as shidou got possession of the ball, roaring down the rest of the field to get to the penalty zone. you were out of your seat as you jumped while shouting. you knew he couldn’t hear you, but you couldn’t help the action.

“GO RYUSEI, YOU’VE GOT THIS!!”

one minute of additional time was given as he entered the penalty zone, the remaining defenders running to swamp him and the goalie readying to block anything. but shidou had that smirk on his face that said he could devour the world, and in your heart you knew he would make it in, no matter how illogical it may seem.

just like that, his leg snapped back and the ball shot into the top left corner of the net, threading the needle between three defenders and the goalie that had leapt for it. the entire stadium went silent as the crowd erupted in cheers.

the whistle rang out, signaling the end of the game. the score was 3-2, shidou winning the game for his team with the last goal.

as the players celebrated, you didn’t see shidou in that huddle, failing to notice him sprinting towards the stands, towards you.

suddenly, you were hauled over the border as he took you in his arms, spinning you around. he was yelling about how you were his lucky charm, but all you could do was stare at the glow in his eyes while he looked at you. he had this pure sense of awestruck admiration that so greatly contrasted his hardened exterior.

you felt yourself leaning forward, you lips pressing against his before you knew what you were doing. he didn’t even hesitate, despite the yells going around the stadium. neither of you cared. all you knew was love, all you knew was him, all he knew was you,

when you separated you again acted before thinking, heart moving before your ind could shut you down.

“shidou ryusei, i’m in love with you.”

“took ya long enough sweetie, loved ya since i set eyes on ya."

shidou knew when loved you when he saw you that night at the bar. him ‘rescuing’ you from the other person was really his selfish attempt at forcing you to notice him, combined with the jealousy of seeing someone else having your attention.

the kick he delivered was to try to impress you, and the punch he let hit him was to try to get you to care about him.

he kissed you because it was what he had wanted to do since he laid his eyes on you.

when you two had gotten with each other that first night, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to easily let go. which is why he quickly shut his eyes after admiring your sleeping form, pretending to sleep. and when you tried to shimmy out of his embrace, he played the sleeping card to keep you from disappearing into a fond memory.

he made you breakfast so he could keep you there longer, dreading parting. his heart broke a little when he found out you thought he would never want to see you again.

the night before the game, he was going to confess to you. but he was too nervous, his frantic heartbeat was actually from that, not the game. when you had whispered goodnight so sweetly he felt his heart swell.

maybe if you had just been awake for a second longer you would’ve heard him say “i love you,” after his goodnight. but he found peace that you didn’t hear, but shidou would never settle when there was something he desired. especially when what he desired was you.

he knew he had to win the game. the need just intensified when he saw you in the stands. so when you cheered for him, his performance increased, which was the real reason he wanted you there.

ryusei shidou played the best soccer when he had something, or even better; someone, to play for. and your sweet cheers from the best seats in the house, the seats he bought you, had him on overdrive.

that last goal was a flex, he waited to pull one out at the last minute. hoping it would make his confession immediately after the game even more meaningful. making you more likely to say yes, at least he hoped.

but what shidou expected least was for you to beat him to it. much less for you to beat him to it by kissing him on international tv in a stadium full of thousands of people. but immediately after he took what you were giving him, because he had no qualms.

it was like a two for one deal, he got to have you and broadcast it to the entire world. it gave him the same euphoric sense that he got when he scored a goal.

truth be told, despite his tough act, shidou ryusei is a softie. and he had been whipped for you since day one.

okkotsuus 23

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #ryusei shidou #ryusei shidou x reader #blue lock shidou #shidou ryusei #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou x reader #bllk shidou #shidou x you #ryusei shidou x you #shidou ryusei x you

239 notes · View notes

yerion · 11 months

Text

jeon jungkook drives you to think strict criticism isn’t too bad, purely because you didn’t expect things to turn a bit steamier than intended.

as the one and only female esports player, misery was at your fingertip when your skills suddenly deteriorated. however, the stoic leader of your team—jungkook, simply couldn’t sit back. he puts you back on track, yet no one told you sparks would fly; and the crazy fact that it’s inevitable.

pairing : jungkook x you (as aeum). au(s) : tsundere!jungkook, leader!jungkook, gamer!jungkook, roommates!au. genres : fluff, (intense) mutual pining, slowburn, innuendos of suggestive themes, (a sick) love triangle.

content : you thought your skill was the one problem here, but you eventually realise you’re quite surrounded by guys that you’d like to go on your honeymoon with. clearly, consequences follow since you’re not the only person who thinks so (the rest of the world does too).

peek jungkook’s mind in this playlist.

previous chapter. next chapter. chapter directory. masterlist.

chapter six.

word count : 6,2k.

namjoon furrows his brows in flourishing concern. “you shouldn’t be reading every hate comment of yours.”

“not every.” you cheekily wave a finger of disapproval at namjoon. “they just happen to tag along with the positive comments.”

“still,” taehyung exhales loudly as if it’s his loss.

what you said is true, and the others have the wrong idea. to you, those comments rub onto you like dirt—annoying, a bit upsetting at first, but later, you just roll your eyes and brush it off.

because what girl wouldn’t be envious of you?

come on, you’d be burning in jealousy and sighing loudly if the news broke out one day and said your favourite celebrity—j-hope, is getting married—or already has four children of his own.

social media was harsh to you at the start of your career, but the moment you proved them wrong with your scores in-game, the majority of the commenters dropped a bit of their rage towards you.

but today, the world is crueller than you ever imagined it to be.

and like how thanos snapped his fingers and caused destruction in another universe, you’ve also become a menace to society like him, causing utmost destruction.

“so,” jungkook disrupts the silence with one word. “our best bet is for me to go live and clarify the news?” it’s just jungkook, but everyone’s guises turn serious as their shoulders visibly tense, including yourself.

you’re slightly worried about this, since you’re very sure there would be people who’d lower their gazes and scoff at jungkook’s fearless yet brazen approach towards the scandalous news. because knowing him, he wouldn’t seem apologetic at all. the man is empathetic to an extent, but it only applies if it’s reasonable.

“realistically, jungkook’s stance is what everyone is looking forward to.” namjoon says. “his words would matter the most, and it’d extinguish the fire faster than anything else.”

“wouldn’t that put aeum in an uncomfortable position?” taehyung steps forward, breaking the intimate circle of your members to confront both namjoon and jungkook’s idea. “it’ll look like she’s relying on jungkook’s opinion.” he crosses his arms in obvious disdain. “that won’t settle any rage directed at her.”

jungkook exhales a loud breath. “silence will fuel the media more.” he cuts himself short; you can tell his head has plotted a full, convincing argument to disagree, but he keeps it locked down for taehyung.

“i wasn’t suggesting silence,” taehyung puts a hand on top of jungkook’s shoulder before peering up into his eyes with a tense smile. “like you said, it’d fuel them more, and even then, aeum would still be taking the biggest fall.” he clicks his tongue, “you wouldn’t want that.”

“speaking for yourself.” unlike taehyung, jungkook deadpans instead of dealing with the flagged skinship. flinging the hand on his shoulder looks like his last priority.

“maybe.” taehyung replies.

yoongi’s sigh is only audible to you, since he happens to be right next to you. “didn’t think i’d see them like this again.”

“fire and ice,” jimin says curtly.

“scary stuff.” seokjin murmurs.

“you’re older than both of them.” jimin snorts.

“cockroaches could be a day old and i’d still be scared shitless.” seokjin says rather seriously.

jimin flashes him a look of slight disgust before slowly bobbing his head in understanding. “honestly,” he taps his chin in wonder. “i kind of get that.”

namjoon roughly shakes his head at their bickering, and seokjin and jimin mutually come to a wordless agreement of shutting up, only because the flame circling jungkook and taehyung is intensifying even through great silence. their eyes are sharp like knives and their lips remain thin and curved.

you cautiously eye taehyung’s hand on jungkook’s shoulder, gulping at it. “my friends,” you whisper lousily. “i have a mouth and some intelligence, let me partake in my own matters.”

jungkook and taehyung stare at you in unison like you’re a toddler unable to make decisions.

screw these guys!

you throw your arms in disbelief. “i’m definitely coming out of my mother’s womb earlier than both of you in my next life.”

“what happens if aeum and jungkook confirm the dating news?” jimin randomly asks.

you flash your narrowed eyes at jimin, hoping he figures out the fact that you are now offended. jeon jungkook was the one to instantly shut you down with denial the moment he heard that his glittery reputation is about to go downhill.

“it’s a misunderstanding.” he said.

“it’s a misunderstanding.” he actually said.

“it’s a misunderstanding.” he said genuinely.

beautiful reminder to tell you to never fall for your leader and to never fantasise about you and his future again.

“that was out of genuine curiosity.” jimin shoots both his hands up in the air; surrendering, to dodge any judgement.

“take a better look at the situation, my friend.” seokjin says. “let’s say aeum and taehyung confirmed to be dating, the majority would probably applaud and celebrate that their long ship has finally sailed.” he explains dramatically. “but if aeum and jungkook are something?”

“everyone would be upset since jungkook has the biggest fanbase, and the most questionable and intense female fans.” jimin finishes. “even worse because aeum and jungkook were never seen together until today.”

“there we go.” seokjin nods in approval.

“we’re going off track.” taehyung warns. “let’s listen to coach.”

“if we were to confirm, the rage towards aeum would multiply and jungkook would lose a quarter of his fanbase. fans will also start to become more personal, so it’ll be a matter of time until they send out private threats and malicious comments. not to mention, other teams would look down on us since we’d consume the media for dating news.” namjoon answers truthfully. “we should avoid that at all costs. not just for the team, but for aeum and jungkook.”

“and if we go along with jungkook going live and explaining the truth?” yoongi asks, sounding more invested in the conversation than before.

“it’d make things quieter in general.” namjoon clarifies. “the news about aeum and jungkook will be reduced, but we can’t expect people to stop talking about it. the public attention will still be ours, but it’ll eventually settle down after a week or two.”

“should we be worried about the malicious comments directed at aeum?” yoongi asks again. “we can clearly see that she’s the most affected.”

“realistically speaking, we won’t be able to block off every negative comment directed at her.” namjoon exhales a deep sigh, “we’ll definitely try our best though.”

you shake your head profusely, hoping to decline the protection of your members. “stop it,” you huff lightly. “i only want you to keep practicing with me until the tournament.”

“jungkook?” namjoon calls out.

turning your head to where namjoon’s concerned gaze is headed, you spot jungkook turning on his computer over at his usual desk. he almost tosses himself into the seat, getting quite comfortable before setting up his live broadcast settings in front of you and the rest of the team’s confused faces.

“jungkook.” taehyung calls out as well, except sounding more stern.

“at least try to smile, captain.” you trudge over to his side, ready to witness his deadpanning announcement towards the audience. the comment section won’t be much of an entertaining sight, but jungkook definitely will be.

“just talk for a long while, jung—” namjoon tries to fit in his advice, but jungkook doesn’t even hesitate to click the ‘live’ button. “oh, jesus.” he drops his forehead, feeling the urge to conceal his identity from the audience out of embarrassment.

just like that, the earlier conversation naturally dissipated. there’s no way anyone can speak up when every given second is getting broadcasted for the public audience with venomous tongues.

the members begin acting like they were busy with at least something—seokjin quickly jumps onto the couch and whips out his phone, continuing with his webtoon. yoongi and jimin, on the other hand, are hopeless. they literally act like they’ve been forced and paid to act—looking up at the ceiling and scratching their necks awkwardly. all of them look stupid and oblivious behind jungkook’s still expression.

“i’d sincerely like to apologise for any inconvenience our actions have caused.” jungkook finally says, but he meets silence after his one sentence. his eyes are glued to the comments rolling up crazily. “the admins will blacklist anyone that fits. i won’t tolerate any harassment towards any of our members.”

your eyes widen in panic, a flush overtaking you upon hearing jungkook’s blatant boldness. you’re desperate to jump into the rescue of your team’s supporters, but you know very well they won’t be welcoming you, especially beside your annoyingly famous leader who keeps shutting you down like his computer.

visibly, namjoon is as frustrated as you are. he’s already thinking of closing statements to the media once they try to make a topic out of jungkook’s nonchalance in front of such scandalous news. the way he’s sighing with all his might surprisingly kindles a quiet chuckle amongst the members, only because he looks overly dramatic whenever he does start to project his soft anger.

“i was worried about aeum catching a cold.” jungkook confesses the truth fearlessly. “the tournament is right around the corner. i was simply trying to minimise all risks regarding our team’s health.”

you knew that jungkook isn’t the type to beat around the bush, but you definitely didn’t predict his demeanour to be like this at all. he’s more confrontational than you ever thought. what can you expect though? it’s jungkook—the leader, at the end of the day.

his gaze casted downwards, jungkook breaks into a scoff and shakes his head. “if a team leader can’t look after his teammates, i consider them incapable.”

jungkook is too good at this.

he’s proving the viewers wrong by exaggerating his role in the team, and everything he’s pointing out is utterly understandable. he knows repeating facts is the best method to kill fire.

jungkook sighs irritatedly at the viewer’s reactions. it’s no doubt they’re going crazy over his exaggerated care towards you—the only female player in the team. “there are terms and conditions we agreed to.” he explains calmly, “dating is prohibited.”

oh…

it’s clear that the corner of your lips sink at the rule. it hasn’t been long since you started feeling this way for jungkook, and you never really thought about it being prohibited. you totally forgot about that, and for some reason, you dreamed that there was nothing wrong with this blooming feeling until now.

few seconds in, you blink out of thought to hurriedly bury your emotion by pursing your lips together. in your peripheral vision, there’s taehyung leaning against a wall. your lips zip up even tighter when you realise that he’s staring at you in concern.

with your eyes travelling back to the ongoing broadcast, you catch jungkook free of stress. his eyes have softened and so have the comments. “we’ll see you at the tournament,” he says. “stay safe and take care of yourselves in the meantime.”

like that, everyone breathes out loud as soon as jungkook turns off his own broadcast. the livestream was short and impactful, maybe like how namjoon pictured.

“you scared the living shit out of all of us!” seokjin yells from the couch. “please give us a warning next time.”

“you did well.” namjoon praises the outcome. “it was smart of you to keep it short and not react to any of the opinions.”

“i agree,” jimin says. “let’s just wait it out now.”

you shake your head, letting out an extensive breath. “i’m really, really, really sorry this happened.”

“we’re all close like family, aeum.” taehyung reassures from where he is. “this would’ve happened sooner or later.” he hints cryptically.

“that’s true.” you nod. “since we’re all close like family.” you repeat, acknowledging taehyung’s thoughts towards you.

“it’d be wise of us to all stay inside as much as possible.” namjoon suggests. “it’ll still take time for the public to settle down.”

“never went out anyway.” yoongi’s eyes pan around the living room.

“seokjin, we’ll be counting on you for our meals.” jimin cracks into a smile. “we’ll all camp inside and practice.”

“i am a filler member of the team, not the chef.” seokjin stands up with a stomp, pumping his chest out to defend himself. “but i’ll do it anyway.” he then says.

“jungkook, could you lead today’s training?” namjoon walks over to jungkook and places a hand on his shoulder. “i have to head over to the company today because of the news.”

“yeah,” jungkook says. “don’t worry.”

“alright, i’ll check back in later.” namjoon heaves out a sigh, knowing there’s heaps of work piled up for him. he straightens out the wrinkles of his blazer before waving goodbye wordlessly.

“we’re starting.” jungkook announces. “sign in and i’ll send everyone a party invitation.” he spins in his seat to face the entire team standing in front of him. jungkook eyes everyone individually, including you. again, he treats you like everyone else. “we don’t have much time.”

“sounds good.” taehyung is the first person to obediently march over to his computer at jungkook’s word. it’s like their argument never happened, but you assume this is professionalism.

eventually, everyone gathers and sits in front of their computers. the semi-circle is complete once again today, and you feel strangely protected—like you can overcome anything with these people surrounding you.

like taehyung said, they’re family.

your family.

you take your seat beside jungkook, and that’s when he finally turns his head to look at you wholly. you didn’t expect that, especially after being disappointed countless times on your own today.

“how do you feel?” jungkook asks you directly.

“safe.” smiling gently, you answer honestly.

jungkook nods once and fixes his gaze back onto his computer screen. his hand is tightly latched onto his mouse as he invites everyone into his team.

with the invitation pending on your screen, you just quietly observe the side of his face, again taking interest in the scar on his cheek. he never fails to capture your interest, but it doesn’t seem that way for him.

how can you change that?

sighing out loud, you decide to focus on your game instead. you press on the tick to your right, accepting jungkook’s request as usual. each banner in the lobby gets filled right away with the usernames of your members, but that’s when you see a private message sent to your chat box.

[34742748382] : ahhhh i didn’t expect jungkook to respond that fast with a livestream lol

[34742748382] : i guess i should try harder ^^

[34742748382] : good luck with today’s practice!!!!!!! it’s not long till the tournament

again?

it’s them again.

you hold in your breath as you feel your chest tighten in fright again when you see the same username from before—that time jungkook tried to hide the messages from you. whoever they are—they’re back, but you can’t afford to freak out.

not when the team is practicing.

scouring all your members’ faces, they all look equally concentrated to practice. no one here is on a different page. there’s determination in their eyes, which is beyond normal because the tournament is really near.

you quickly move your cursor above the username, blocking them to ensure no other messages come through. maybe your clicks were a little too aggressive, jungkook is fast to notice that something is out of place for you.

“aeum.” jungkook mutters under his breath.

“privacy, please!” you hiss quietly, feigning composure at the situation eating you alive. the anonymous’ words are preying on you bit by bit. “my little brother was spamming stupid messages in-game, spilling my old secrets and everything—”

“what’s his name?” jungkook asks, and the rest of the members hear.

um.

“my little brother’s name?” you question obliviously.

jungkook crosses his arms. “do you prefer me to ask what secrets?”

bursting into a tense laughter, your gaze bounces from jungkook to taehyung, jimin and yoongi before coming back to meet your leader’s stare. “jeno.” you toss an answer. “that’s his name.”

“is he teasing you again?” taehyung suddenly inserts, supporting your atrocious lie. he’s making you even more anxious because now you’ve got two people to explain to and beg for forgiveness if you ever get caught.

but now, you can slip out of this thanks to taehyung.

“he doesn’t learn.” you shake your head while smiling innocently at taehyung who’s in the corner. he’d never understand the meaning behind your smile though.

“aeum and jeno?” jimin repeats from metres away. “your parents are too good with names.”

“right?” you take your chance to side with jimin too. “we better get to it before i start missing them.” you say aloud, but it’s basically addressed to jungkook. “i might just run away.”

jungkook collects a deep breath as if he’s decided. “is everyone ready?”

practice ended in time with the sunset; an aurora of pink, orange and red is presented to you and the rest of your team who isn’t too bothered by the snuggly colours in the sky. it’s almost time to eat dinner, but you’d much prefer to return when you’re not caged by the thought of someone’s animosity from before. they’ve been in your mind ever since.

my god… you feel like you’ve aged ten years.

you are a corpse.

you are disintegrating.

and you hate that you’re still wondering about what tonight’s dinner might be.

in general, you feel baffled. you don’t feel too depressed, only because you genuinely do feel infinitely supported. that’s why you’ve still got the perseverance to ponder about dinner and smile when you want to. however, you can’t help but to feel disturbed about what could potentially come. you’re still far from becoming numb when you stumble across comments on the internet. how will you condone direct attacks? are you perfectly valid to be thinking about that—or are you merely overreacting because you’re flustered from the consistency of a single person behind anonymity?

distracted, you lift yourself off your chair, slide off the headset tightened around your ears, stretch your arms as you head towards the stairs. you’re the first person to sign out today. it’s only expected of you, especially after that disaster.

at times like this, you sincerely wish you could run back home.

when you reach the second floor, you slowly drag your feet to your room. there’s a fair distance for you since yoongi’s room comes first, then jimin, seokjin, jungkook and then it’s yours before taehyung. the rooms are all aligned horizontally.

as you pass the first two doors, a door swings open in front without any warning. a draft of wind shoots out, and your body jerks in surprise. you pause for a few seconds to avoid any means of planting your nose into the door, then take the initiative to walk around, still hoping to make it to your sweet destination.

wait.

isn’t that—

before you can even think, a firm force grasps your wrist to tug you into the room. you gasp in the midst, but your following breath is stolen when you lay your eyes on the owner of the room.

it was brief, but you’re not mistaken.

when did he get here?

the scent of soap is pungent—it hypnotises all your senses when your body thuds against jungkook’s chest. with your face buried into the softness of his new black t-shirt he changed into, you’re swept in a complete daze. your hands instinctively crawl to his hips, and you grab ahold of his shirt in your fists, unafraid of creasing his freshly cleaned shirt.

for a moment, the world is quiet.

it’s just you and the warmth of him.

you begin to wonder when silence inevitably abducts you. over and over again, you’re met with the same old uncertainty storming inside of your mind. perhaps your mind is playing games, or jungkook is the one playing games with you. on days jungkook makes you feel like he might just be your prince charming, you’re kicking your blanket like an idiot every night. however, it’s when you think the gap between you and jungkook no longer exists after one thing and another, he finds a way to pry it back open again by reverting to his old self—to the person you never knew.

when you’re looking at him expectedly, he’s never looking back.

when he acts friendly again out of the blue, you’re always searching for answers.

why did he worry when you were sick?

why did he feel accountable for you?

why did he take you to his room and leave you to sleep under his watch?

why did he kiss you that night when you were drunk?

why does he expect you to answer when he was the one behind everything misleading?

why does he try to keep you safe at a red light?

why is he allowed to wrap his arms around you during the times you feel most upset?

why doesn’t he tell you who hayoung is?

why does he look for an answer in you when you asked for his first?

why does he care about you?

why is he making you overthink?

because you adored him so much—as a player and even as a person, you were always blinded to everything jungkook did.

“are you alright?” jungkook speaks softly into your ear. he’s keeping the noise to the minimum, but he’s also intentional with his tone—just to make you feel like he’s the one to turn to when you’re in need. “you’re never convincing, so is it up to me to get better at reading you?”

why doesn’t he have his arms wrapped around you now?

why are you the only person holding him desperately?

“why?” you finally unleash your thoughts, your head still against jungkook. once upon a time, they were all securely locked for his sake, but now you don’t care if that all shatters. “tell me why you care.” you ask without trying to sound hostile, merely because you want him to discern your earnestness.

jungkook doesn’t say anything.

you tear yourself away from jungkook’s chest and peer up at him in despondency. “or am i misunderstanding?” you echo his words emptily, yet his face keeps still.

“it’s not a misunderstanding.” jungkook then replies solemnly. “i care so much to the point it’s uncomfortable.”

at this second, there’s nothing in this world that can beat jungkook. he’s standing right here, probably not even thinking about how your body is reacting; your heart squeezes up in desperation for sweeter words. you want to gouge your heart out and show him how many pricks there are—maybe then, he’ll think less and talk more.

“i easily forget about the tournament when you're around.” jungkook, not giving a hell about what you think anymore, harshly pulls your wrist and places your palm onto the left region of his chest. under his skin, you feel each of his thumping heartbeats—it’s rapid every time it contracts; it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest anytime soon.

yours feels the same, except worse.

he probably doesn’t know that as well.

“when you’re here, i don’t think about the consequences.” jungkook drops his hand, letting you do the work from here onward. he now looks at you with eyes devoid of emotion; which goes against what he just said. perhaps that’s why he’s given you an opportunity to feel rather than see.

you slide your hand off his chest as you turn away. instead, you’re staring at his bed, which only torments you further at the recollection of memories piercing your mind like a bullet. “you really don’t listen to a word i say.” you murmur cryptically. “i thought i told you to stop being vague.”

“i’d rather kiss you than focus on a game.” jungkook confesses instead. “i’d rather sleep with you than compete.”

“jungkook, that’s—” you interrupt, dreading every one of his confessions. anxiety gushes in when you realise that he was slowly breaking apart too. it’s not your fault—you know it isn’t, but to see jungkook displeased with himself is hurting more than any injury out there. everyone knows that he cherishes his career more than anything.

“i’m sure you can imagine how detrimental it is to the team if a leader can’t set priorities.”

you get it now.

you’ve become jungkook’s mistake.

although you’re not fully certain if jungkook can reciprocate your feelings, there’s one thing you’re sure about: his affection. it grew beyond his control. he didn’t think it would; he didn’t think anything could blur his vision because he always believed in himself. the jungkook you know is collected and confident—in the beginning, you didn’t think he was capable of conveying such romantic emotions.

yet he’s come so far.

from the jungkook who didn’t budge at any of your rants, to the jungkook who constantly finds you to prove that you’re deserving of admiration.

maybe that’s enough for you.

“i have to value you as my teammate more than anything.” jungkook hooks a finger below your chin to raise your head up from your own shadows. you erase the bitter smile that crept up to your lips, but there’s no doubt he saw. “and with the terms and conditions we agreed to, there’s not much ahead for us.”

again, jungkook is too good at this.

“jungkook,” you breathe out thickly. “jeon jungkook.” you call out his name for the first time. his eyes dilate in surprise, and you simply smile at his eyes you seem to be obsessed with.

you can’t help it.

it’s jungkook after all.

“let’s stay apart.” you determine on your own. “we’ll go back a few steps.”

wordlessly, jungkook retracts his hand. “is that easy for you?” he asks after some thought.

no.

not at all.

as if.

“tell me,” jungkook demands an answer. “is it really?”

“someone will have to think about the consequences.”

“if that’s what you want.”

suddenly feeling your eyes dry, you habitually swipe at your eyes with an arm. the moment you pull a part of yourself off of your face, a single drop wells up in the inner corner of your eyes.

huh?

no way.

just before a tear can creep out of your eyes, you clear your throat and quickly peer up at the sky. you use gravity to your advantage to suppress the escape of a single tear. “you better come down for dinner.” you prod casually once you flick your head back down. “i’ll steal yours if you don’t.”

“all yours.”

and just like that, you back away, little by little, until you feel the back of your shoulders hit the door. you don’t think twice when you twist the handle of jungkook’s door before stepping out of his room. with your back turned against him, you let the door shut loudly behind you.

now you wipe your tears away.

the next afternoon, you dedicate yourself to another day of training with your team. it’s been a while since you stopped struggling in-game; you’re not diving in unnecessarily out of greed anymore, and that alone carried meaningful outcomes. you’ve been top fragging for the last few matches, and namjoon has been screaming in your ear in awe at your improvement.

on the other hand, everything else felt ordinary. the sky was a pale blue, the sun was shining vigorously, and jungkook acted exactly like himself. thanks to him, it was easier for you to stay far behind. because for all you know, you’ve been accustomed to this situation long ago anyway, since he never actually gave you special treatment unless the two of you were privately secluded.

not a thing in the world is going to notice your dimming relationship with jungkook. you’re the only person that can claim everything that happened between you and him as a fragment made of reality.

“aeum!” seokjin shouts from the kitchen. he’s cutting up some of the vegetables you and jungkook bought that day. “a parcel arrived under your name today with the rest of the fan mails!”

“really?” you ask again; half out of scepticism, the other half out of excitement. ever since the release of you and jungkook’s photos, fanmade letters and gifts have stopped substantially. “where is it?”

“on the doormat!”

you run to where the doormat is, and you swiftly retrieve a pink cardboard box the second you see it. your name is handwritten on the top of the box with hearts drawn underneath. the sender’s name isn’t attached, but most of the time, their names are revealed in the letters for confidentiality.

the tape sealing the box appears resistant, so you rush over to the kitchen to loot a pair of scissors. you pinch seokjin’s scissors to cut precisely along the lines of the box before gaping blankly at the content inside.

all you see is shredded pink tissue paper filling the box. your logic tells you to reach in since something could be hiding somewhere beneath the bed of shreds. the other option is flipping it the other way around, but there’s a probability that the item could be extremely fragile, hence the overwhelming amount of tissue paper.

or… there could be nothing in it.

that all aside, you put a hand inside the bed of shredded tissue paper in an attempt to grab anything tangible. swivelling your lost hand for a few seconds in the unknown, you’re thinking you might’ve been baited.

“i thought so.” you snicker. “such effort too.”

your hand feels for anything on each side of the box, and just when you thought you’ve seriously been toyed with, you feel something slit the base of your hand. the burning sensation is enough to force a whimper out of you, but you tighten your lips, adamant to keep the pain hidden.

you promptly pull your hand out, only to confront blood—it’s flowing constantly out of your hand, but not strongly. the heat consumes your fingers before engulfing your palm. from the top of your hand to your forearm, your blood drips down, staining your arm and shirt in no other colour but red.

you try to find the bleeding source; it’s obvious a blade slashed your palm diagonally. the blade cut you when you tried to hold whatever was inside; you gripped onto it instinctively without any suspicion at all, thinking it might’ve been something more pleasant.

biting down onto your lower lip, you apply pressure with your remaining hand when the blood drops onto the tile. it almost sounding like persistent spits of rain. clearly, your one hand isn’t enough to stop the stream; you’re helplessly leaving a trail of your own blood with every step you take away from seokjin.

who sent this?

an anti-fan?

it’s someone who’s enraged about the news of you and jungkook.

you’ve heard about this before—if “fans” can pour superglue into orange juice and are also fully capable of gifting dead animals; it’s no surprise someone was brave enough to hide a blade to stop you from competing.

“aeum?”

the terror of watching taehyung’s face lose all colour and turn immobile from shock sucks every breath from your mouth. upon realising that it’s your blood in your own hands, taehyung breaks free to jolt to where you are. his hands stretch out to apply extra pressure onto your wound, and you involuntarily wince at the sharp pain nipping at your separated skin.

“who—” taehyung is seething. he’s losing every whit of sanity; you can tell just by hearing him breathe—it’s becoming more and more shallow with more time passing. his hand is shaking tremendously as you watch your blood stain him too. “what’s going on? you need to explain—” his head snaps in every direction to find a clue on what exactly happened. eventually, his breath hitches when he detects the box sitting at the table. “who sent that?”

“i don’t know,” you answer truthfully. you thought you’d find at least a note in there somewhere. “maybe someone who’s upset?” you try to jest in this situation.

speechless with rage, taehyung tugs on one end of his scarf around his neck, removing it in one swift motion. “i’m taking you to the hospital.” he suggests pensively before tying the scarf around your hand to compress the bleeding. his remaining grip builds up the pressure against your now clothed gash, but at the same time, taehyung’s hands are getting dirtier by the second.

with taehyung’s quivering hand still cupping yours, you put your hand on top of his to calm him down. “taehyung.” you whisper while you squeeze his hand. “we shouldn’t.”

if you get caught with taehyung this time, you really wouldn’t know when you’ll be back on stage.

taehyung finally looks up to meet your eyes. “if this gets infected, you seriously won’t be able to compete.”

“i’m not saying i’m going to ignore professional treatment, dummy. i don’t want it to be infected either.” you reply honestly. “let’s get namjoon to call someone over.” you tilt your head cheekily, “he restricted me from going out, so i’m going to use it to my advantage when i can.”

“what the—” seokjin’s jaw drops at the sight of you and taehyung fiddling with blood. “what happened? what did i miss?” he fires a bunch of questions. “oh god, who’s blood is that?”

“i was right behind you too.” you glare playfully at seokjin.

“i’m—” seokjin stutters. “i’m going to call namjoon, and we’re going to get you to the hospital—holy shit, what if you need stitches?”

“shut up.” you deadpan unseriously. “can we be optimistic?”

“how do you expect optimism when you’re losing blood?” seokjin argues in growing concern. “i’ll come back with the emergency kit, so you stay right there!” he then spurts up the stairs, making a ruckus in the house. if anyone else is home, it’s only a matter of time until they lose their guts too.

“sorry,” taehyung’s voice comes out soft and glum. perhaps he’s found some composure after covering your wound. “i went a little too overboard, didn’t i?” taehyung sighs, “getting mad and all.”

“you’re kidding me.” you gasp inwardly before crumbling into a faint chuckle. there’s absolutely no reason for him to feel apologetic when he saved you from paranoia. “i was thinking about calling you my saviour from now on, and what? you’re saying you went overboard?”

now taehyung flashes you a smile. “i would’ve preferred myself to be calm for you.”

“well,” you smack your lips together to make an amused sound. “i’ll gladly accept both sides of you.” taehyung narrows his eyes like he has something in mind, but because you’re you, taehyung is too predictable. “and also your other sides too. maybe i should pick a favourite—”

out of nowhere, you hear a click reverberate from the front door. the sound should be unnoticeable to a person’s ear, but it’s merely because you and taehyung are situated quite close, the two of you catch the noise at the same second. your attention diverts instantaneously—from your injury to the next person who’s bound to witness your messy casualty.

the door opens, and your heart convulses when you watch jungkook enter indoors with a lowered gaze. there’s a piece of paper scrunched in between his balled fingers, and the expression he dons is off. his face is contorted with pure, undiluted anger; his jaw is clenched and his eyes are dull, deprived of life and light.

did something happen to him?

your curiosity chained you—before you can even think of potential answers to respond to another person about this cursed accident, your eyes are at level with jungkook’s when he turns his head around decisively. the inevitable happens, and you’re caught up in another knot the moment you observe his face darkening more. unlike taehyung, there isn’t a sense of urgency in him, solely disturbance. he glowers at your hand like he knew what he was walking into.

does the piece of paper have to do anything with his reaction?

it must be.

despite jungkook’s appearance, no one in the room comments about his arrival. you’d think taehyung would, but he doesn’t move his mouth.

“i brought the emergency kit—” seokjin reports back to the scene that’s now completely quelled. there isn’t space for seokjin to fit in, and same goes to you—who would even dare to if they’re driven in the middle of fire and ice?

“give it to me, seokjin.” you say quietly, enough to not break the flurrying tension.

“pass it to me.” taehyung intercepts in an antagonistic tone. he grabs ahold of the kit from seokjin before bringing your aching hands closer to him; physically encouraging you to follow his lead.

you can’t help but to hesitate; the idea of simply dismissing jungkook out of spite is unacceptable on your end, but you can’t leave taehyung alone either—not after everything he did for you.

so you just stare back at jungkook, nodding at him to induce him to understand you’re fine (though he never literally asked), but you think this is the best you can do, otherwise you’ll just be walking away from him, seeming like you never want to turn back around.

“taehyung,” jungkook calls out when you and taehyung’s backs ultimately turn against him.

to your surprise, taehyung faces jungkook immediately whilst deadpanning. “what is it?” he answers coldly, holding your hand tight.

“am i not worthy of an explanation?” jungkook walks up to taehyung, automatically drawing him near to you as well. “a teammate of ours is injured—is she not?”

“aeum is injured.” taehyung corrects nonchalantly.

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jmtorres · 3 months

Text

oh man i'm gonna have to unfollow dimension 20 shit

fantasy high: junior year the actual episodes are giving me some academic trauma flashbacks but like I know that's happening and I've braced

people in the d20 and fantasy high tags asking if xyz is really how high school works in america is going to completely murder my brain

my personal history:

gifted kid

undiagnosed adhd

perfect PSAT

too many AP classes

got into state schools but not the schools i wanted

should have petitioned to graduate early (i had all the credits except gym) and instead barely went to class senior year due to aforementioned undiagnosed ADHD. (i could have had a gap year! i mean I wanted a gap year even after senior year but my parents thought i was too immature to au pair in France or whatever. maybe? but if they'd let me, then it wouldn't have been my academic future i was shooting in the foot)

failed most of my classes senior year of high school i think?

went off to college with none of that addressed on the strength of that fucking PSAT score

completely bombed out of my freshman year of college

diagnosed with (but not actually treated for) depression

proceeded to bomb out of several more semesters at multiple institutions

took a decade and a half to get a bachelor's degree

had to ask my college to overlook my GPA and let me graduate despite the many classes i'd failed due to adhd and depression

AFTER i got the goddamn degree, sought mental health treatment

it's been over two decades since high school and a decade since college and I STILL have nightmares about being sent back to high school because i fucked everything up

"is high school/junior year/applying for colleges/etc really that stressful in america" YES IT FUCKING IS, EVEN (maybe especially?) IF YOU'RE REALLY FUCKING SMART. ADULTS EXPECT SO FUCKING MUCH OF YOU BUT DON'T THINK YOU'RE RESPONSIBLE ENOUGH TO MAKE DECISIONS FOR YOURSELF

(nothing I have heard in intervening years suggests it's gotten any easier for today's teenagers. I'm so sorry.)

#academic trauma #mental health #neurodivergent #turned off reblogs because this is personal #all caps rant

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parisupdates · 4 months

Text

Ring in the New Year Gala || December 31, 2023 - January 1, 2024

What better way to ring in the New Year than with drinking around the world? No, I don't mean to get on my private jet and just go - it wouldn't fit all of Paris. But, I have the funds to bring the rest of the world to Paris.

You're welcome,

Heather du Pont-Moreau

When/where does this event take place in game?

The gala will be held on December 31, 2023. This event takes place at the du Pont-Moreau Residence, which is located in West Paris.

How long do we have to write?

Threads can begin on Sunday, January 6th @ 12:00 AM EST and must be wrapped up by Sunday January 13th @ 11:59 PM EST.

What else do we need to know?

Aside from every other detail in this post, it should be noted our first interest check will still occur on Sunday. You are not required to participate and you will not need to pause your regular threads; but we ask that any threads related to the event are tagged clearly either using a personalized tag or as #paris.event:001. We ask that any starters specifically for this event are also tagged as #paris.event:001 in addition to being tagged as #paris.starter.

This event will include a decent set of drinking games from around the world hosted by friends of Heather's from abroad, live entertainment, and fine cuisine. Some examples can be found below; but please feel free to use your imagination or even suggest some that we could add to this post.

Games & Activities

Goon of Fortune (AUS); Loosely based upon Wheel of Fortune, this is yet another drinking game where players must sit in a circle, this time underneath a Hill Hoist-style clothesline. Attached to one end of the line is a bladder of goon, the local term for cheap, boxed wine. Spin the line, and whomever the bladder stops above has to drink. And no, you never need to buy a vowel or ask to solve the puzzle.

La vache qui tache (FR); No surprise, you’ll need a wine cork to play La vache qui tache (“The Cow Who Stains”), of which one end is blackened by a candle flame. Players take turns calling out fellow players by their pre-assigned numbers until someone screws up in remembering an opponent’s number. At that point, your face gets spotted with the blackened cork and game play continues.

Ping Pong Pan (JPN); Start in a circle with one person saying “ping” then, going clockwise, the person to their left must say “pong.” Then, the next person says “pang” while pointing to a random person, who must then say “ping,” and so on. Seems like they could really spice this game up with an actual ping pong ball and some Solo cups.

Sapo (PE); Unlike most drinking games, which simply involve a table, some alcohol, and some drinkers, Sapo actually involves an apparatus that seems a little costly. Purportedly created by an Incan king, players today toss tokens at a board adorned with a brass sapo (toad) and 25 holes. Tokens that land in the toad’s mouth are worth the most.

Kinito (ESP); Kinito is like Yahtzee for drunks. In this popular game in the Basque region, players sit in a circle (of course). One player shakes two dice inside a shaker, then privately looks at what she rolled, telling her opponents what that number is (which may be a lie). The next player guesses if she is being truthful or not, then rolls his own dice, trying to score higher. At least sangria is usually present and ample.

Pon/Toma (MX); In this game, a six-sided dreidel is employed, with each side bearing a drinking instruction (“toma dos”). Sit in a circle with a community libation in the middle, and then spin the top—whatever the dreidel lands on, you do (i.e. “toma todo”—drink the whole cup).

Bear Paw (RUS); In Bear Paw, a large mug of beer is passed around in a circle. After each player takes a sip, the displaced fluid is replaced by vodka, and the game continues. In theory, eventually the mug will be pure vodka, at which point vodka is displaced by beer, and so on. Winner is last person standing.

Fuzzy Duck (UK); In this game, players sit around in a circle, alternately calling out “fuzzy duck” or “ducky fuzz.” If a player, upon his turn, inadvertently calls out “does he?” then play immediately resumes in the opposite direction. If a player screws up on his turn, he drinks—simple as that.

Kastenlauf (GER); Kastenlauf literally translates to “box run,” and indeed, this drinking game involves running with a beer crate while methodically chugging its contents. Teams of two carry a crate full of beer (20 bottles) between themselves while each drinking a bottle. The first team to finish all their beer and cross the finish line wins.

Party games; Manhunt, charades, Uno, Marco-Polo (the more drunk - the more fun)

Photobooth

Bowling Alley

In-home Movie Theatre

Dance floor & DJ

Silent auction of AJ's things (out with the old)

Sip and Paint class with Tina Fey | Sip and Paint Splatter with Anne Hathaway

Tattoos by Koolsville

Cocktail mixing class with Mr Lyan

Houseplant by Seth Rogen pop-up ( get your goods, guys )

Forever Golden pop-up ( permanent jewelry )

12 AM firework show from outside garden (nice view of Eiffel Tower) -sparklers available

Event Features

Bars & Food

Cocktails are free and run all night, including an extensive Red & White wine list, licensed bartenders ( 11 bars at disposal ); specialty drinks for the night include The Ball Drop ( pornstar martini ), 2024 ( amaretto sour ) and Moreau ( Red wine spritzer with Merlot ) Each of the 11 bars are based off a specific country; comprising of a chef from each country who crafts the dish in which the country is known for, and a mixologist who makes the cocktail in which the country is known for.

Italy by Chef Massimo Bottura ; Negroni and pizza

Mexico by Chef Enrique Olvera ; Margarita and Tacos al pastor

China by by Chef Susanna Foo ; Baijiu and Kung Pao Chicken

Germany by Chef Alfons Schuhbeck ; Schwarzbier and Brot & Brötchen

America by Chef Bobby Flay ; Mai Tai and steak burgers

Japan by Chef Masaharu Morimoto ; Sake and sushi

Morocco by Chef Najat Kaanache ; Berber whiskey and B'ssara

Greece by Chef Georgios Evlampios Petretzikis ; Ouzo and Gyros

United Kingdom by Chef Gordon Ramsay ; Whiskey and fish and chips

Peru by Chef Gastón Acurio Jaramillo ; Pisco sour and alpaca burgers

Barbados by Chef Creig Greenidge ; Rum and cou-cou and fried flying fish with spicy gravy

Live Entertainment

Comedy show by Taylor Tomlinson, Pete Davidson and John Mulaney

Special performance by the artists (dancers) of the Moulin Rouge

Intimate performance by Lady Gaga

#paris.event #paris.event:001

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louiscarrotsxoxo · 2 years

Text

berryhill (chapter one)

A/N; their ages start VERY young in the story, it's starts off in elementary school, it will slowly progress throughout the story

tag(s) 9yo! Harry, 9yo!Louis, elementary!AU, Larry!AU

Harry and Louis are relatively the same age in this fanfiction hope you enjoy :)

Louis

The first day of grade 3, a fresh new start, the first 2 years went well, I hope this year follows that pattern.

I walked into the designated classroom, and I am greeted with students congregating around the entrance, a tall, blonde-haired woman I see as I look above, that must be the teacher.

I look over to Niall gazing at all the fresh-faced students. "You excited Ni? I heard Mrs. Valery is nice, hopefully she lets us fool around and play footie yeah?"

"I agree Lou, grade three is already so exciting, best year yet!"

Niall and I fist bump as new students pile into the room, one boy seeming to glow from the crowd. "Who's he?" I ask

"Dunno, big shot from out of town I suppose. "

"He's- interesting." I stutter over my words, I squint my face at my mistake, where did that come from?

The golden boy, as I makeshift nickname him sees my eyes wander in his direction as his brown curls pop up from the crowd.

" 'Ello 'm harry." His accent thick in his words, who is this guy?

" 'Ello, haven't seen you around before, y'new?" I ask as he nods to me, moving his curls to frame his face, as my mouth forms in the shape of an 'O' at his simple gesture.

"That I am, just moved a couple days ago, so far Headtha Valley seems like a nice town." Harry says quietly as I look down to my hands.

"I agree, my name is Louis, nice to meet you, Harry." I wave to him as he waves back, he seems awfully quiet, I think.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Good morning kids! Today we're going to start a get to know you game, turn to someone you don't know and start a conversation, begin." The teacher says as each of us quickly find someone to turn to, signaling me to find someone to begin conversation with as well

I quickly turn to Harry since we haven't officially got to know each other, I ponder at his features his pink lips contradict his green eyes, strange. I find my mind enticed by them as I can't find the will to turn away, I'm captivated by him, I wonder why, all of a sudden.

"So, Harry, what's your favorite sport?" I ask

"I like to play footie." He replies

"Well Harry, I love footie! If you love footie as much as I do, we'll get along real well."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Lunch rolls around and I already see Harry getting popular with the "cool kids" meanwhile I, watch the drama unfold from a safe distance.

"Kids today, stealing each other's hairbrushes." I say sipping on my juice box

"Louis, we're kids too ya know." Niall says

"I know, they're just different, especially Harry, not in a bad way, just different." I replied, what is it about today, I've had more questions in the last minute then I've ever had in my whole life!

"Well maybe you'll be able to figure it out tommo, you can't learn anything staring at them being bonkers." Zayn suggested

"Hey Harry! Play footie with us at recess?!" I shouted, he turned around instantly and walked towards us.

"Sure, although I'm proper rubbish at it." Harry laughed

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

So far Harry's skills are proving absolutely phenomenal, it's Harry and Liam against me and Niall, it's a tight game.

I look over to my left to see Zayn doodling on his sketch pad, typical.

I try to focus on avoiding Harry's long legs from the goal and avoiding Liam's focus on the ball to try to score a goal.

C'mon Louis get your head in the game

"Oi! Harry put those long legs to good use!" I shouted before I scored the winning goal.

"Victory!" I screamed

☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Hey Lou, you played really well, although you technically cheated." Harry said

"Cheated? Alls fair in love and war." I winked

"Wait- what?" Harry laughed

"You lost, I won, simple as that." I sassed

"I'll have to play you again sometime to break your winning streak." Harry said

"Sure, Harry... meet here next recess?"

"Sure Louis, you know you and me, we could be great friends?"

"I agree, friend."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Harry

I never would have thought today I'd find a boy like Louis, and find my way around the school, but as simple as that, it happened.

I don't know why, but from the beginning, I felt this strong bond between Louis and I, like we were met to be friends, even if this is only the first day of grade 3, as long as Louis is here, I'll be alright.

As my thoughts circled around my head, I realized this was silent reading time, silly brain, read, not think about Louis.

I looked across from me to see Louis cross-eyed smiling, I had to stifle a giggle to keep it from erupting loudly.

"Lou, you're gonna make me laugh!" I hushed

"That's the point, H." Louis retorted

Today really is great for me, I made a new friend, and I'm having one of the best days of my life, what a day, I never want it to end.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Louis

As predicted, the end of the school day had ended, but I feel like, me and Harry, had just begun, it's a strange feeling.

As I helped Niall put on his puffy coat, I thought about the bond that I simply formed with one curly haired boy, that easily! I hope it stays this way forever.

I slipped on my backpack after zipping my coat as I looked over to Harry, being chased by a squirrel, by the looks of it, he looks very afraid, poor squirrel.

"AHHHH!" Harry screamed as the squirrel chased him faster than his long legs could run.

"Get away little squirrel! Back to your friends! Harry's mine!" I shouted as the squirrel scurried away

"Thanks Lou." Harry breathed relieved and gripped onto my shoulder

"No problem, H, you're really afraid of squirrels huh?" I teased

"It was going to touch me, Lou! It was out for blood!" Harry exclaimed

"That squirrel looked like it was having the time of its life." I smirked

"Well, I- whatever." Harry laughed

I looked to my left to see Zayn pointing at something, two squirrels seemingly about to start a fight.

"Look they're gonna have sexy time!" Zayn shouted

"Now now, Zayn, let's not get carried away here." Mrs. Valery said

After a few moments the bus came, signaling it was time to go home, Harry and I boarded different buses home, as I went to board the bus he halted me.

"Wait! Lou!" Harry said tackling me in a hug

"I promise I'll be back tomorrow H, promise."

"Pinky promise?" Harry asked

I linked my pinky with his before I smiled and said, "Promise."

#berryhill #larry #babylove #new beginnings #alternate universe #love #coming of age #larry stylinson fanfic #fetus larry #baby boyfriends #harry loves louis

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sweetshoko · 2 years

Text

WEBS – PART 1

DISCLAIMER; the banner is NOT made the represent the reader in any way, shape, or form. it is purely what is is for aesthetic purposes.

SYNOPSIS; in which armin has trouble keeping a big secret OR your class rival isn't the person he seems to be.

NOTE(S); spiderman!armin, nerd!eren, vigilante!mikasa, roommate!pieck, friendly rivals to lovers, college!au (send an ask to be tagged)

PAIRING(S); armin arlert x f!reader, mikasa ackermann x eren yeager, pieck finger x porco galliard

WARNING(S); action scenes, injury, mentions of blood, weapons (includes guns, odm gear, etc.), eventual smut (chapter will be indicated for avoidance), suggestive jokes, cussing, marijuana use, alcohol

Armin Arlert is a huge nerd.

He earns one of the best grades in your class, knows his way around the materials and tech provided by the school, and has a seemingly neat schedule. Armin Arlert doesn’t go to a party every night and when he does, he’s always sticking by Mikasa or Eren’s side. At first glance, he’s boring and to some, maybe a bit tacky, but at least he’s fairly kind when someone approaches for help. That’s what you’ve observed, at least.

Blonde hair that falls over pretty blue eyes, the soft curve of his nose, supple lips—it’s almost infuriating to you because you know those eyes look at you with a hint of cockiness despite the innocent vibe others may get from him. The truth about Armin Arlert is that he knows that you’re trying so so so hard on your quiz out of spite and he’s putting his all into making sure that he gets that top grade in your class.

It’s hard to not notice him—there’s only twenty people in this room as opposed to the three hundred that usually show up in the lecture hall, but that’s just how your lab class was. Two days a week of excruciating, long work for two hours. And never once did he say anything to degrade you, never once did he rub a score in your face, but you still felt that pressure.

Despite the fact the scores on the board didn’t have names, only student numbers, you were still able to pick out which one was his. You could tell by the sly smile whenever he saw himself at the top and you were sure he could tell which one was yours based on the way you would glance at him whenever you were at the top.

“Good job.”

“What do you mean, Armin?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Good job on what?”

“The exam,” he grumbles, “You really topped me this time.”

And that’s as far the exchange would go, the two of you quickly returning back to your desks after checking the scores pinned to the wall. The rest of the class would go by fast, the rest of it being notes, lab preparation, and other small things you didn’t really have to think hard about. Right after it would end, Eren and Mikasa would be waiting for him outside the classroom to do God-knows-what while you would usually go back to your dorm to rest up.

This time when you unlock the door, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of black hair splayed across the arm of the couch and the sound of a dating show on the TV. It was rare for Pieck to be home around this time–she was usually at Porco’s around this time–but you weren’t displeased by her presence. In fact, it made you feel a little less lonely in your apartment.

“Morning,” she yawns, stretching her arms above her head, “How was class?”

“You’re here today?”

“I live here. How was class?’

“Aren’t you usually at–”

“Yes. Now, how was class? Did you have any fun?”

“Class was class. Nothing special, Pieck,” you sigh, setting your backup on the ground near the front door, “We’re starting this big lab on Thursday, though. That’s about it.”

“Is it like an individual thing or do you have partners? Groups, maybe?”

“You’re acting weird again, Pieck.”

She groans, standing from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. You follow after her, trying to figure out what your roommate is pissed about this time. “You’re making this way harder than it needs to be. I just want to know how you’re doing!”

“I’m sorry! You usually don’t ask so many questions. When you’re back, I’m just used to your little snacks and dating shows. And I’m tired. You know how long that class is.”

“Fine. We can watch my dumb little dating show and you can eat my dumb little strawberries.”

She huffs and you ignore it, opting to do exactly as she says out of spite. Pieck never be mad at you. It’s something you learned after two years of friendship. When she comes back home late at night looking all beat up from whatever party she attended, you’re always there to help her unwind. If you were sleeping, you’d wake up to the sound of her pained groans as she walked past your room.

“Why do you want to know about my lab class anyways?”

“I literally memorized your schedule. That’s the class you just came from.”

“Ah, so you’re being polite, now?”

“I’m the sweetest person you’ve ever met. Don’t you already know?”

You roll your eyes, throwing a strawberry stem that she catches between her teeth. She sticks her tongue out at you as she throws it away. “I’ll be out again tonight.”

“And I will be studying. But if you need help with anything, just let me know.”

“I know and I love ya tons!”

“Love you, too, Pieck.”

“Eren, you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Do you need Mikasa to help you?”

“No, I can do it fine on my own! Plus, what if something happens to her.”

“I would be just as worried about you, but you know she can hold her own.”

Armin jumps from building to building with the help of the webs shooting from his wrist. After a few more seconds, he spots the robber from above. Ready to tangle him in the sticky substance, he aims with precision, but he figures he’s already too late because he can feel the figure behind him right before it passes–there’s a grappling hook shooting towards the enemy and it lands right near the wall he runs next to. A girl with familiar black hair speeds past him, landing feet first right on the man they had been chasing.

He’s down, struggling to get up under Mikasa’s step and Armin sighs. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, it made the job easier for you, didn’t it?”

He smiles at her as Eren cheers in the microphone, the sound flooding their earpieces. “I’m doordashing sandwiches right now! You guys better be back soon!”

“We will. I’m fucking starving.”

Armin makes sure to tangle the man in his webs, leaving the bag of stolen items right next to him. Despite the fact the robber had been physically exhausted, he still manages to curse at them as they walk away. The small apartment they live in isn’t far, in fact it’s the perfect walking distance, but Mikasa still glides into the air using the ODM gear that had been designed for her while Armin follows along with the mechanical webs he had made himself.

From afar, a woman in a black suit watches, a mask covering the top half of her face. The wind blows in her hair as she stays hidden on a rooftop. After she’s out of their general sight, she skillfully makes her way down the building to where their victim is.

“Now, what the fuck do you want from me?”

“Hush,” she responds in a sweet voice, “I’m definitely not letting you out. I’m just here to observe.”

She kicks the man on his back, touching the white substance covering his body with gloved hands. “Interesting. It’s very sticky.”

“Well, no fucking shit.”

With the knife in her hands, she cuts a small piece without undoing the whole wrap around his body. From afar, she can hear police sirens, signaling that it's time for her to escape the premises. “Looks like I’ll be going home just fine tonight. Thanks for letting me look.”

The man continues shouting obscenities at her as she scales the building, finding her way back home.

“Are you going on Saturday?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Come on… You have to. You’ve been studying for weeks and you do have to let loose once in a while you know.”

“What if you kept doing your pre lab work instead of convincing me to go to a party?”

“What if you just said yes so that I can stop bothering you about it?”

“What if you drove me home because I definitely will not be sober if I go?”

“What if Annie drove you home because she’s driving me home?”

“Deal.”

“Thanks, Hitch,” you smile discreetly, still staring at your laptop screen as you enter in your predicted calculations for your next assignment. Even though you technically didn’t start it until next week, it was supposed to be a heavy one and having fun before you went dark for the next few weeks after didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Maybe you and Armin will finally get that tension off your hands there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not blind, you know. You’ve been looking in his direction like every five minutes. You just type on your silly little laptop to make yourself look busy, don’t you?”

“You’re a bitch,” you sigh, looking up at her smirking face.

She wiggles her finger in front of yours, satisfied at the fact she pushed the right buttons, “And what’s with those competitive little comments you guys make? It’s like passive aggressive, but not.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That little ‘Good job, Armin’ or the little ‘Looks like you did real good this time.’ or the ‘So close yet so far. Better luck next time.’ What the hell is that all about?”

“It’s a playful competition. You know how I am about this stuff,” you explain, “It motivates me to do better in this class.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. When are you guys gonna have sex?”

“Hitch! Can you at least keep it down? He’s looking here.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“Because you’re embarrassing me.”

“No. It’s because you have a little crush and you care about what he thinks.”

“I’ll never live this down, will I?”

“It’s okay. If I was in your place and Armin was Spiderman himself, I’d love the sexual tension,” she dreamily sighs, “The things I would do.”

“You mean the guy with the red suit who catches criminals? That could literally be anyone. It could be Connie for all we know.”

“I’d just tell him to keep the suit on.”

“You’re sick.”

From across the room, Armin smiles to himself and thanks the spider that enhanced his ability to hear. Not only does he take note of your actual conversation, but also the way your heartbeat becomes faster with the suggestion of you two together. And Hitch? He’s flattered, but he’ll have to decline the offer and he’s mostly sure that she would understand.

“You look weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your smile… it’s just so goofy.”

“Eren!”

“What?”

“Let him be. He’s probably just thinking of someone right now.”

“Someone?” Eren raises his eyebrows while Armin sweats under his gaze, feeling the heat of his stare. “I have a good guess.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Eren.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I love you, but we’re really going to let this slide.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes before giving her blonde friend a pat on the back as a silent sign of support. Eren only puts on his signature smirk while Armin furiously types on his computer, pretending that he’s focused on the calculation table and the calculation table only. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Armin. Having a crush is normal.”

“I know that.”

“And you two have been eye fucking ever since this class started. I can feel it from here when you guys check the grade board.”

“Am I not allowed to appreciate someone’s intelligence and dedication?”

“I think it goes way past that, buddy,” he claps his hand on Armin’s back as their professor sends him a death glare, almost like he knows they’re up to no good already, “You want to go on a date so bad. You want to kiss her, get to know her, maybe–”

“Let’s not finish that sentence, yeah?”

“The point is,” he continues, wrapping his arm around Mikasa’s shoulder, “You should ask her out. At least before this class ends because who knows when you’ll get another class with her.”

“I’m in biochem and she’s in chem. I think we’re bound to get at least one other class together.”

“But are you really going to wait and take that chance? She’s obviously into you. And you’re into her. Do I have to convince you that she–”

“I know she likes me, Eren.”

“Then what’s the problem? You mention her at least twice a day. Even if it’s just a little stupid thing you heard her say or what she wore that day. Don’t come here and tell me you’ve been doing those observations for nothing.”

“She just…”

“What?”

“What if something happened to her? And it was my fault? I don’t think I would be able to deal with that.”

“If she finds out, she always has a choice to leave, but if she doesn’t,” he pauses, pulling Mikasa’s chair closer to his before doing a stupid pose with a stupid grin while the girl is wide eyed, interrupted from her work by his sudden affection, “She can be like us.”

“I’m not worried about you two because both of you can hold your own.”

“Thanks. But we would help her is also what I’m trying to get at. Anyone who is important to you is important to us.”

“Thank you.”

“So are you gonna ask her out?”

“No.”

“Fuck you.”

There’s nothing like dimmed lights, booze, and the faint scent of weed coming from the room you just walked out of. It’s safe to say that this place stinks. It’s hot, crowded, and your mind is awfully foggy. Everything seems to blur, but you don’t panic. Instead, you lean into the feeling of relaxation. It’s easier to talk, easier to be expressive and Niccolo is sure to watch your cup as Sasha mingles with other people.

“I’m really glad you two found each other,” you hug his side and he welcomes it, one hand coming across his chest to pat your head, “Sasha was already a happy girl. I didn’t think that it could ever be topped until you came into the picture.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do. If I hated you, I would have told you by now.”

He sighs in relief, “It just means a lot to hear you say that. Especially how it was in the beginning with Jean and Connie.”

“It’s okay, Nic. You know how they are. They’re overprotective and had unresolved issues with Reiner. Now look at them,” you point to the four men playing beer pong, Jean teamed up with Colt and Reiner teamed up with Connie, “They’re besties.”

“You’re right,” he looks around with furrowed eyebrows before his attention is back on your, “Where the hell is Hitch?”

“Getting rid of me so soon?”

“No, I enjoy your company. I’m just asking since you two usually hang around each other at parties.”

“Fuck, if I know. She wanted me to come so that I could talk to some guy in our lab class. I doubt he’ll be here, though. He comes to a party like once in a blue moon.”

Armin can hear your voice from the entrance of the house. And he can pinpoint where you are just from the sound. After he had told Eren about the conversation he overheard, he had been forced to go and before he could refuse, Eren had already texted Jean and Connie. It wasn’t that hard–all he had to say was that he wanted some alone time with Mikasa–but little did they know she would be fighting literal criminals during that time. There’s more than one vigilante in the big city, Eren had told him. Armin refused because what if all of them weren’t working that night? That was when Mikasa casually mentioned she didn’t mind doing the job that night.

After following the sound of your laughing, he sees the cup pong game where he decides to great the players who make it a priority to mix him a drink (something they probably cannot do). He scans the room and that’s when he finds you, hanging from Porco’s arm and grabbing Sasha with your free hand to bring them together. He’s never seen you this… comfortable–you always looked studious during your class together. While your stolen glances were caught (and reciprocated), he’s only ever seen you in school mode.

And the sight makes his heart swell. To him, you were already pretty beforehand whether you were furiously typing on your laptop or making a snarky comment about how you scored a point higher on a test. But seeing you in your element, with your friends and full, genuine smile, he melts on the spot. Oh god, is he even going to be able to talk to you.

He doesn’t have time to ponder that because right when you spot him, you’re waving at him, stumbling your way to his side. Reiner notices you and decides to not comment, handing Armin a bottle of soju instead of actually making a drink. The blonde twists the cap open while you lean on the wall next to him. His palms are starting to feel sweaty and oh no, he’s about to combust.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks cooly, no stuttering. Just a clear, established question because it’s a valid concern. Your smile is so bright, it’s almost blinding him. He downs half of the drink while he waits for your response. Your cute little thinking face is on, the same expression you have when you’re doing your work in class, and he’s slowly relaxing the longer you’re with him.

“Because you look really pretty.”

Holy shit.

Armin is sure he’s going to combust, but you just laugh at him. “Why’d you get all red, Min?”

“My face turns red when I drink.”

“Okay, liar.”

“What if I told you that you were pretty? You would be blushing, too, wouldn’t you?”

“Probably, but I wouldn’t be as flustered as you.”

“Oh, really? What if I kissed you? Would I win, then?”

“Tch. Tch. Not everything is about competition, Min,” you give him a sly smile, lips kissing the shell of his ear before you whisper, “But if this was, I think I’d win, yeah?”

It sends shivers down his spine and Armin feels like he’s in high school again. You basically confessed that you liked him and he heard it, isn’t he supposed to have to upper hand?

Yet you’re standing there with your stupid little grin, giggling while he turns a bright red. All he can do is sip on his soju until the bottle is empty. “I don’t hate you, Armin.”

“I know that.”

“Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Weren’t you just this close to kissing him a few seconds ago?

But it hits him that the only conversations that were shared were short exchanges pertaining to whatever rivalry you guys had during class. You didn’t know much about him except for his test scores and how it compared to yours. You knew who he hung around (it almost hard not to since you were with Sasha a lot) and who he was, but to you, he was probably just a minor crush.

And Armin realizes he’s downright infatuated with you. He realizes that a lot of the things he learns about you comes from what he can hear. He has superhearing after all, but you don’t know that meaning that he has to walk around eggshells when talking to you. If he slips up, he’ll sound a little too creepy even though that’s just how superhearing works. He can technically hear everyone in that room, but he chooses to pay attention to you.

“Seeing you outside of class is weird… but it’s nice.”

“Why’s that?”

“It feels like you work a lot. I don’t go to parties a lot, but you’re usually never here even though I see Eren and Mikasa from time to time. And you three are attached at the hip. Plus you’re friends with Sasha, Connie, and Jean. So I really don’t understand why you would go unless parties aren’t really your thing?” You semi ask out of curiosity because you just made the same realization—you don’t know that much about Armin.

“They aren’t. I like coming to talk to my friends, but I don’t get crazy drunk or anything.”

“I see. That’s pretty expected on you, to be honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t seem like you’d be too crazy outside of your school life.”

Oh, if only you knew.

“I guess it can seem that way.”

That night, Armin comes home satisfied from mindless conversation. While he might know about what drama was going on with your friend group and how you feel about it, what irrational fears you had, and more based on your conversations with Hitch during class, at least you knew a few more things about him. But they’re little things like his major, what living with Mikasa and Eren was like, and the shows that he’s been keeping up with.

Nevertheless, you know him just a little bit better and that’s better than nothing.

#armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #armin arlert x y/n #armin arlert fluff #armin arlet fanfic #armin arlert fanfic #armin arlert fanfiction #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan fanfiction #armin arlet x you #armin arlet x y/n

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feliix · 3 years

Text

Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls, it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot.

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible.

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air.

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms.

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time.

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.”

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm. What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue.

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t have to be so miserable about it anymore.

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell.

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got.

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles.

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something.

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop.

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces.

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind.

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times.

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way.

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story.

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him.

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen.

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely.

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate.

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say.

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop.

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price.

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration.

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten.

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this.

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts.

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his.

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body. Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.”

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?”

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down.

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more.

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction.

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else.

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it.

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips.

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched.

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out.

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full.

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

#stray kids smut #han jisung smut #kdiner #kwritersworldnet #stayracha #kafenetwork #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #han jisung x reader #skz jisung fanfic #jisung fanfic

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

Text

Hug-o-gram | Yoongi

→ summary:

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font.

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au, fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K → a/n: another commission by the lovely @jincherie because she’s epic like that!! she literally just told me to write whatever the hell i wanted and well... yoobie got me Good... anyway here’s more yoongi fluff bc apparently i’m a fluff writer now and sometimes i just want my boy to be happy... appa yip yip

Kim Seokjin makes a lot of good decisions. He also makes plenty of bad ones, but he likes to think the score is lying heavily towards the positives. Min Yoongi will be the first one to quickly disagree, but Seokjin doesn’t let it get to him. He doesn’t make it his business to listen to opinions that don’t immediately align with his, anyway; he likes to call it “selective hearing.” Yoongi calls it stupidity. Either way, the point still stands: Seokjin knows a good idea when he sees one. Case in point:

“This automatic popcorn machine is absolutely divine,” Seokjin moans, his mouth agape as he waits for the Mister Popcorn Robot to bestow him with another morsel of goodness.

“Yeah,” is Yoongi’s verbose reply. He also has his mouth agape, his prone body lying side by side with his roommate of four years in their small living room. Their roomba (another one of Seokjin’s good ideas) cleans all around them, its steady whirring serving as their only source of background music. “Lowkey though, I think our position isn’t quite… as optimized as it could be.”

“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks, as he drapes his leg over Yoongi’s. His movement jostles the surrounding popcorn halo around them, as most of the food had missed their mouths by a couple of centimeters. At this point, the roomba has probably eaten more of the popcorn than the two of them combined.

“Nothing,” Yoongi shrugs, or whatever might be the lying down equivalent of a shrug. Some of the popcorn on his chest falls down, only to be quickly devoured by roomba-chi. Yoongi stares at the ceiling, tracing shapes out of the cracks that Seokjin had accidentally made when he tried using a pogo stick indoors. He points up, catching Seokjin’s attention. “Hey, hyung. Doesn’t that look a bit like Y/N?”

Seokjin squints. “You mean the mysterious brown stain near the lights? I think the toilet from the elderly couple upstairs might have leaked that.”

“No, you dipshit. The squiggly curve over there. It reminds me of her smile.” Yoongi says. There’s a stupid dopey grin on his face and Seokjin wants nothing more than to wipe it off.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Seokjin groans, turning over to envelop Yoongi in a sweaty half-armed hug. The buttery residue on his arms and stomach leaves something to be desired, but Yoongi doesn’t scoot away. He only continues to sigh dreamily, staring mindlessly at the image of you that only his lovelorn brain can imagine.

Seokjin slaps Yoongi in the face. “Dude, get a fucking grip,” he grouses, giving Yoongi a serious look. The younger doesn’t break out of his trance, further irritating him. “Will you stop pining in front of my popcorn? It’s seriously making roomba-chi lose her appetite!”

To his credit, roomba-chi did seem to be slowing down, though that could also be because it had overloaded with popcorn and was seconds away from exploding. Wouldn’t be the first time, but Seokjin always managed to find a way to save roomba-chi from imminent death. She was like a daughter to him.

“Hyung, you know I can’t. I just… God, I really like her, you know?”

“That’s the third time you said that within the last hour. Believe me, I know.” Seokjin groans, shoving Yoongi away. He sits up, reaching over to the popcorn machine and switching it off. He grabs a fistful of fallen popcorn from the ground and shoves it inside Yoongi’s mouth. “There. That should shut you up.”

“Aw weawwy wike hew, hwung.”

“And yet, you still haven’t done anything after four years,” Seokjin tuts, finally standing up. He stretches his limbs, his joints creaking youthfully. He grabs his phone from the coffee table, nearly dropping it from the butteriness of his fingers. The clock reads 4:32 PM, which means–

“Yoongi, it’s time for me to head to work. You want to come with me today?” Seokjin asks, though he knows what answer he’s going to get. You see, Seokjin’s new booming business is another one of his fantastic ideas, but it is a little... inventive. Sure, Yoongi had scoffed when he had originally suggested the idea, but Seokjin knew that it was going to be a money-maker. Sure, it had taken a few years for the business to really take off, but once it finally did…

Enter Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service! Students from his university are able to send anonymous payments directly to him, with little notes attached for their crushes. Each love letter delivery comes with a hug from Seokjin himself, delivered straight to the person without them ever knowing who the hug came from. It was ingenious! It was lucrative! But most of all…

It allowed Seokjin to cause drama and have an excuse for it! Nothing could have been more perfect for a man like him.

“No thanks,” Yoongi snorts, rolling over to face him. He watches from the floor as Seokjin changes into a butter-less shirt, which also happens to have his own face printed on the front and back. His trusty cardboard sign that reads “I’m Gonna Glomp Ya!” also joins his attire for the afternoon, a long piece of string tied to its edges so that he can wear it around his neck. Throwing on a pair of white sneakers with the tags still attached, Seokjin is ready to tackle today’s list of would-be hug-ees.

“How do I look?” Seokjin asks, combing his hair with his fingers. It leaves an oily sheen, which he somehow makes it work.

“Ugly,” Yoongi says, like a liar.

“It’s okay, I understand. I can speak tsundere, so you don’t need to explain,” Seokjin snickers, nearly getting hit with a TV remote by Yoongi. He opens his phone again, swiping to his e-mail to see his list of hug deliveries for the day.

Seokjin gets around 10 requests a day, with around half of them coming from regular clients. He’s especially fond of this boy who has been sending hugs to his TA named Namjoon for almost a month now. He has no idea why this kid has so much disposable income, though seeing the blush on Namjoon’s face everyday makes Seokjin think that he would spend every last penny for him too. Namjoon had begged Seokjin for his secret admirer’s identity, but snitchin’ isn’t a part of his service, unfortunately.

As much as Seokjin wants to know who is crushing on who, his little business wouldn’t work as well as it did if anonymity wasn’t included in his package deal. It allows people to thirst in public without facing the repercussions, like getting a knee to the groin or a slap to the face. Not that Seokjin has ever been at the receiving end of that; everyone loves him! Like, have you seen him? He must have saved a civilization in the past with how devastatingly beautiful his forehead is.

“Why am I suddenly filled with the relentless urge to deck you right now?” Yoongi says, getting up to change into clean clothes as well. His black t-shirt unfortunately does not have Seokjin’s face on it, but that can quickly be amended if the elder of the two decides to follow his every intrusive whim.

Seokjin laughs, completely unaware of the murderous capabilities of his friend. Due to his smaller body size, his percentage of evil is unusually concentrated. “Maybe it’s because you know that I’m into pain pla–” but Seokjin’s retort suddenly grinds to a halt. He chokes mid-sentence, coughing wildly as he pounds his chest with a balled-up fist. When Yoongi looks up at him, he finds his hyung staring slack-jawed at his phone, seemingly flabbergasted by what he finds on his screen.

“What’s the matter? Accidentally sent a dick pic to your prof again?” Yoongi snorts.

“That was one time! And no, it’s…” Seokjin trails off, uncharacteristically hesitant. He shifts his gaze from his phone to Yoongi, a drop of sweat quickly forming on the back of his neck. Yoongi raises a brow, silently urging him to continue.

Instead of replying, Seokjin hands him his phone. Yoongi finds a copy of one of Seokjin’s newest hug requests, only having just received it five minutes ago. As he scrolls down, he finds that this secret admirer is a new client, but that isn’t what made Seokjin stop in his tracks. Instead, it’s the recipient of the hug that catches his attention–

“Y/N has a secret admirer?” Yoongi says, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, trying his best to school his face into something less… jealous. He swivels away from Seokjin, forcing himself to breathe slowly through his nose. He convinces himself that he is the very epitome of calmness.

“You okay there, Yoongi? You look like you’re about to vomit,” Seokjin says, immediately breaking his inner peace. Yoongi groans loudly, shucking the phone over his shoulder, uncaring of where it lands. Seokjin, with his superhuman and God-given reflexes… doesn’t catch it. But he did dive to the floor like a seasoned Olympian, and his ass cushioned his phone so he supposes that’s a win.

Back to the matter at hand––

“I am fine,” Yoongi says, as he continues to not be fine.

From the floor, Seokjin shoots him a disbelieving look. He lies down more comfortably, propping his head on his elbows. Screw his hug-o-gram appointments for now; nothing brings him more joy than seeing Yoongi absolutely losing it. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I marched up to Y/N right now and give her the warmest, coziest, most tender hug of her fucking life?”

“Y… Yes,” Yoongi squeaks, neck glowing a furious red. He has his fists clenched (adorably) by his sides, head bowed as he faces the wall of their apartment. Seokjin’s brain makes the unhelpful comparison of Yoongi with that cat meme who says “no talk me angy” in Impact font.

Seokjin grins, his wickedness from within coiling and yearning to burst from his seams. This is it! Maybe if he pushes a little more, then maybe Yoongi will stop pining like a pathetic loser! Also, it didn’t hurt that he got to push Yoongi’s buttons while he’s at it, but hey! Not all heroes go to heaven or whatever.

He grabs his phone from his ass, scrolling back to the e-mail. “So… You wouldn’t mind if I walk up to Y/N right now and tell her ‘Hey! I’ve had an embarrassingly long crush on you and when I heard about this hugging service… I couldn’t miss the chance to shoot my shot! If you’re single and ready to #mingle, then please meet me at the Corner Cafe at 2 PM tomorrow.’” Seokjin sing-songs, snickering loudly when he sees the absolute pain etched onto Yoongi’s face.

There is a pause, and Seokjin waits as Yoongi uses his tiny kitty brain to think of what to do. He can only imagine what’s going inside his head, but he has a guess. Yoongi could either: 1) finally admit his feelings for you and come clean before Seokjin has to deliver your hug, or 2) do something stupid and counterproductive.

It comes as no surprise when Yoongi goes with option number––

“Hyung, let me come with you to work today,” Yoongi decides, walking over Seokjin’s prone body to their shoe rack. He slides into a pair of sneakers, his harried movements unusual for his customary lethargicness. He grabs a coat from its hanger, stomping his feet to get Seokjin to move faster. “C’mon! We have hugs to deliver.”

“Woah woah woah! Slow down there, Simpimus Prime.” Seokjin gets back up to his feet, skipping over to him. An absolutely feral grin is stretched upon his face. “Am I hearing what you’re saying? Are you offering… to deliver hugs with yours truly? Are you finally going to take up my offer to be an employee at Kim Seokjin’s Hug-o-gram Service?”

“Of course not,” Yoongi scoffs, but his shifting eyes betray him. He fidgets in place, refusing to return Seokjin’s eager gaze. “I just… wanted to go out for once. Yeah.”

“Yoongi.”

“What?”

“You haven’t left this apartment other than to go to class in over a month. You never go out. You’re an indoor cat!”

“I’m not a fucking cat,” Yoongi hisses, like a cat. “And of course I go out! There was that one time I went outside to pick up our food delivery last week.”

Judging from Seokjin’s unimpressed stare, Yoongi’s excuse doesn’t cut it. Yoongi flaps his arms around, defeated. “Okay, fine! I rarely go out! Screw me and the bounteous crapload of assignments I have due! It’s not my fault I don’t have the time to socialize and have fun. What do you want from me?”

What Seokjin wants is to push a confession out of Yoongi, not because he needs the confirmation, but mostly because he just wants to annoy Yoongi and say “I told you so!” He’s also pretty cute when he’s all blushy and tsundere whenever he talks about you. Should he film him and sell the footage on eboys.bb? He’s certain that goth boy over here would make a pretty penny.

“You like krabby patties, don’t you Squidward?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yoongi sniffs, nose upturned. He opens the door, not looking behind him to see Seokjin’s triumphant expression. “C’mon. Y/N’s last class of the day ends in a few minutes and we might catch her before she leaves the Science Building.”

Seokjin snorts. He is quick to slip his own coat on and he follows soon after. He locks their door shut, hopping over to Yoongi and matching his shorter-legged pace. “Yeah. Because you totally just know her schedule at the top of your head. You know, like a normal person.”

Yoongi ignores him. He trudges on, each step filled with determination as they make their way to Seokjin’s beat-up truck. Seokjin skips alongside him, observing the younger boy and placing bets inside his mind. The drive to campus isn’t that long as it only takes around 10 minutes to get there, but Seokjin guesses that Yoongi’s defenses will begin to chip away only 3 minutes into the drive.

He’ll start to realize the gravity of the situation, the cogs in his smooth and slushy excuse of a brain slowly comprehend what he’s about to witness. He’ll first think about how 1) he’s going to see you and that never helps his poor dainty grandpa heart and 2) he’s going to see you hugging Seokjin as he reads to you the short love confession from your anonymous Romeo. Seokjin bets that after 8 minutes, Yoongi will start to break out into a sweat, leaving gross perspiration marks on his good car seat leather.

After exactly 7 minutes and 34 seconds (Seokjin was keeping track of the time on his dashboard), Yoongi’s face turns an unflattering shade of green. “Dude. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Yoongi had originally offered to drive the two of them to campus, but Seokjin had the good foresight to refuse. Had Yoongi been the one on the wheel, he would’ve brought them back home in an instant due to nerves. So instead, Seokjin speeds up, ignoring Yoongi’s soft whimpers of defeat.

“Too bad, but there is no turning back now. I have six deliveries today and I am not putting my livelihood on the line just because your balls have magically shrunk in size,” Seokjin snickers. He glances at Yoongi from the corner of his eye and feels the slightest touch of pity for the pathetic fool beside him. “But if it really makes you want to shit yourself from anxiety, we could save Y/N for last. Though, on second thought… That could also prolong your misery, which I will always be up for.”

“God, shut up,” Yoongi groans, slamming his head on the dashboard. Seokjin continues undeterred as he pulls into the campus parking lot, waiting for his friend to make up his damn mind for once in his life. He supposes that he is being a little harsh on Yoongi, but there are only so many sad love songs he can listen to without going completely insane.

Aren’t you tired of being nice? The demon on his shoulder cajoles, shoving the corpse of his angel counterpart somewhere down a ditch. Don’t you just want to go apeshit?

And who is Seokjin to deny his impulsive needs anyway?

“No, let’s… just get this over with,” Yoongi decides, head still smushed against his dashboard. He doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, not even when Seokjin shuts off the engine and makes a show of “leaving” Yoongi behind.

“Okay, lover boy. You have ten seconds to get your butt into high gear before I’m leaving you behind. And you should know that I’m not above playing dirty and giving Y/N the sweetest fucking hug of her life that will make her forget anyone else exists in this world, so you better start moving before I–”

Like lightning, Yoongi scrambles out of the car faster than if it had caught on fire (and Seokjin’s car has exploded before and Yoongi certainly did not seem as bothered to escape than he does right now.) He nearly trips over himself in his haste, getting caught by the car door and nearly receiving a concrete facial to boot. He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster (which he doesn’t have very much of, if at all.) Seokjin is kind enough not to mention anything, but the shit-eating grin on his face is enough to make Yoongi bristle.

They exit the parking lot, looking to the world like the sun and moon had turned human for the day. Min Yoongi, with his all-black attire and gaunt appearance, is heavily juxtaposed with the man who appears to have been vomited on by a rainbow. They walk side-by-side together, accustomed to the stares that often come their way when they go out in public.

“I just can’t believe we’re doing this,” Yoongi moans for the umpteenth time, his movements stilted like a robot. His footsteps look heavily disjointed like his knees were beginning to rust. His arms swing like a pendulum, adding to the unnaturalness of his motions. Basically, he looks like a fucking idiot.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Yoongi snaps. Seokjin startles a bit, realizing belatedly that he’d said that out loud. Not that he cares. Yoongi continues, “I’m not the one wearing a fucking cardboard sign that looks like a toddler made it with macaroni and glitter!”

“Hey, Taehyung told me it looked good,” Seokjin sniffs, fingering the macaroni pieces dejectedly. “I don’t need to hear an opinion from a Music major.”

“Shut up, Business major. No one likes you fucking snakes,” Yoongi retorts, crossing his arms. “Your definition of fun is going on LinkedIn and using Excel sheets.”

Distracted by their own quarrel, neither of them notice the sound of the large clock in the middle of campus that chimes every hour, signaling that it was already 5 PM. A few minutes later, hoards of students begin to leave university for the day, the walkways beginning to fill with people as they head home. Amidst the chattering and bustling of everyone trying to get out of the crowd, it is hard to notice that you are also one of the hundreds of people finishing your last class of the day.

But Yoongi notices, as he always does. Call it Y/N intuition, or whatever. “There,” Yoongi points you out over dozens of heads. Seokjin can hardly spot you, but he trusts Yoongi’s weird Y/N-dar to find you without fail. People have begun to notice the two of them, most of whom were whispering excitedly when they notice that Seokjin is in his work attire.

“Oh my god, someone’s getting a hug-o-gram! I wonder who…”

“Have you ever ordered one? I got one for my current girlfriend last month and that’s how we got together.”

“I’ve always wanted to send one, but the prices are insane! Fuck them business students and their capitalist ways.”

“Screw sending a hug to someone else! I wanna order a hug for me. Kim Seokjin is a hot piece of ass.”

(Yoongi swears the last comment had sounded eerily like Seokjin himself, but the older boy’s mouth hadn’t moved in the last minute.)

“Alright, Yoongi. Here’s the plan,” Seokjin leans closer to Yoongi, stage whispering into his ear. Everyone within a six-foot radius is eagerly eavesdropping, not even bothering to pretend that they aren’t. It’s common knowledge that Seokjin basks in their attention, anyway. Yoongi rolls his eyes, urging him to get it over with.

“Y/N is over there, right? Well, I have to send a hug to this guy named Mark Lee too, who just so happens to be over there,” Seokjin points behind them, in the opposite direction of where Y/N was heading, “so here’s my proposition. You go over to Y/N and deliver the hug for me, while I go catch up to Mark so that we can kill one bird with two stones!”

“Excuse me?” Yoongi wheezes, pushing Seokjin away from him. His eyes bug out. “Are you insane? I am not doing that. And the phrase is ‘killing two birds with one stone,’ you fucking idiot.”

“Same shit, Shakespeare! Who cares about numbers!” Seokjin exclaims, exasperated. “Listen, would you rather you hug Mark and I hug Y/N?”

“I would much rather prefer that I stick my whole fist up your anus,” Yoongi seethes.

“Interesting proposition, but maybe for a later time,” Seokjin says, not missing a beat. “Listen, dude. The longer we prolong this little bitchfest you have going on, the farther away Y/N is gonna get. You know I will stop at nothing to deliver her hug anyway, so would you rather you miss your chance right now when I am so magnanimously offering you a shot at getting closer to your crush?”

Even though Yoongi feels like his insides were slowly turning into mashed potatoes, he knows that he had already made a decision long before they left the house. Seokjin is right; this is a good opportunity for him, whether he is willing to admit it out loud. Perhaps it is just because it is Seokjin of all people who is egging him on that preprogrammed him into thinking that this was a bad idea. In all seriousness, it was just a hug, nothing fancy. It isn’t like Yoongi was going to have to kiss you––

(His heart contracts and Yoongi wonders if he’s having a stroke. The thought of your soft lips connecting with his is enough to cause the wind to knock out of his chest. God, Yoongi is so screwed.)

“Why must I always feel as though I am a snail and God is personally salting me,” Yoongi groans, stepping away from Seokjin and heading your way. Behind him, Seokjin hollers in what he assumes is friendly support, but it only further antagonizes Yoongi. The absolute buffoon waves enthusiastically from behind him, a beaming grin almost ready to split his face in two. Yoongi flips him off without looking back.

God fucking dammit. The closer that Yoongi is to approaching you, the stronger the urge to just evaporate like ice cream on hot concrete becomes. He can feel himself perspiring from every corner of his body and he just hopes that his black attire will do well to mask the slimy creature that he is underneath his clothing.

This is all Seokjin’s fault, Yoongi reminds himself. If he hadn’t started this stupid hugging service in the first place, then no one would have ordered a hug for you in the first place. Then Yoongi wouldn’t have to be in this stupid predicament either!

But you could’ve ordered a hug for her if you wanted to, says the annoying part of his brain – the same part that’s always been a little bit too hopeful for Yoongi’s liking. The whispers continue, And she wouldn’t even know it would be you! But more importantly…

“Seokjin wouldn’t know either,” Yoongi huffs irritably because he knows it’s true. The biggest thing stopping him from ever making a move on you, other than his debilitating fear of rejection and heartbreak, is the fact that he’d rather explode into spores than for Seokjin to find out that he’d used his “genius” business idea to get the girl of his dreams.

He’s afraid that one day, Seokjin would magically develop telepathic powers (a fear that Yoongi feels that the majority of the human population should also share) and find out that Yoongi doesn’t actually think his hug-o-gram service is dumb. It’s actually really cute, and Yoongi hates to admit that the success rate of his service is nearly perfect in terms of getting couples together.

But Yoongi is a strong (read: stubborn) man; he’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin the satisfaction of seeing his business work out for his seemingly hopeless case. Which brings him to the present–

You’re standing by the entrance of the Sciences building. You are dressed nicely as always; Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen you in anything remotely slobby, not even a pair of sweats like any regular uni student. You always look a little bit business proper: the epitome of someone who should be on the student council.

You’re speaking to someone, a younger male student by the looks of it. The hairs on Yoongi’s neck stand at attention and, God forbid, did he just fucking growl? Did he make that sound? By the looks of the students carefully navigating their way around him, Yoongi surmises that he did make that sound. Geez, is he some sort of animal? Is he going to turn into those feral stan accounts on Twitter that salivate over their K-pop boys like it’s their job? He hopes not.

But what if that’s the kid who sent the hug–

Yoongi shuts up his brain before he can let it finish. No, he can’t let himself go down that path. It’ll only cause him to self-combust right then and there, and he isn’t exactly keen on letting you see his entrails anytime soon. That would be the least cool thing to do, he decides. And so, with his brain turned off, he walks over to you, arms swinging robotically by his sides as he forces himself closer.

“Oh thank you so much, Y/N! You’ve been a real help to our club, you know?” The boy (Yoongi can’t believe they’re letting toddlers into university these days!) says, his eyes glittering with an ambition that still hasn’t been killed by the all-consuming dread that comes with university.

You laugh lightly, the sound causing butterflies to flutter excitedly in Yoongi’s chest. “No worries, Soobin. I’m glad I could be of help. If the editorial board needs any more help, don’t be shy to shoot me a message, alright?”

Soobin nods enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down so quickly that Yoongi was afraid his neck would snap. “No worries, Y/N! Have a good rest of your week!” He waves a cheery goodbye, springing away with his numerous anime keychains on his backpack jingling softly in his wake.

“What a cute kid,” you sigh. You look incredibly fond, and Yoongi hates the bitter coil swimming in the pit of his stomach. That feeling soon fizzles out when you finally turn to face Yoongi. Your eyebrows shoot up, but your expression quickly morphs into one of pleasant surprise. Yoongi’s heart stops for just a moment, feet turning cold. “Yoongi! Oh my goodness, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen you! How’s it going?”

Let’s play a game, shall we? How many of Yoongi’s nervous ticks can you spot within the next five minutes? Think of this as the easiest game of Where’s Waldo ever!

“Hnng,” Yoongi stammers, his hand immediately going to scratch the back of his neck. His cheeks pinken, pupils shaking in every different direction as they try to focus on anything but you. It always feels like he’s standing way too close to the sun when he’s around you, hardly able to keep his gaze focused on you. He chooses to stare resolutely at your chin, but even your fucking chin was impossibly cute.

Seriously? Yoongi is a walking shitshow! His inner voice comes back, but this time it sounds uncannily like his roommate. Come on, buddy. Just say hi… You know, like a normal person. “H… Hey, Y/N.”

Success count: 1 point for the Yogurt Machine!

Even though Yoongi felt like he was living his worst nightmare, you still looked every bit like his favorite daydream. You are all smiles, seemingly unperturbed by Yoongi’s slow, embarrassing demise. “It’s so good to see you! Midterms haven’t been too hard on you, I hope?”

“I’ve been better,” he says. Better now that you’re here, he leaves unsaid. God, can you imagine if he said that out loud?

Your mouth drops open, soft cherry blossoms blooming across your cheeks. “Um, what did you say?” you squeak, embarrassed. But certainly not as embarrassed as the boy in front of you.

Yoongi stops breathing. He did not say that aloud, had he? Judging by the awkward silence stretching between the two of you, the signs are pointing to: yes. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo–– “Er, what I mean to say is,” Yoongi stutters through his sentence, his entire body flushing fire engine red like it’s nobody’s business. He must look like Satan’s spanked ass right now. “I… I’m here to deliver a hug!”

Confusion quickly replaces the shock on your face. You tilt your head, brows scrunching up cutely. “A hug?” you ask.

“R-right,” Yoongi says, waving his arms around because he has nothing else better to do. He gestures vaguely in the opposite direction, where Seokjin had left to find his other clients. “I’m, uhh… Helping my roommate. Have you heard of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram service?”

“Oh, yeah!” You hop excitedly in place, looking to all the world like the cutest thing in the universe. Yoongi thinks you should be classified as a public hazard, what with how you’re somehow able to give him diabetes just from standing next to him. “I totally heard about that! I’ve always wanted to send a hug, but I’ve always been a little shy.”

That piques Yoongi’s interest immediately. You wanted to send a hug? But to who? He unconsciously clenches his jaw, and he can feel a vein pop up near his neck. He forces himself to smile, but he knows it probably looks more like a grimace. “Oh really? That’s… I didn’t know you had a crush on somebody.”

Yoongi is too busy wallowing in his own self-pity puddle that he misses the way you gaze shyly up at him through your eyelashes, your hands clasped behind your back. “Y-yea… I don’t really go around telling it to just anybody,” you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. You clear your throat. “So, are you here to deliver a hug or something?”

Nothing gets past you, huh? Yoongi swallows thickly as he twiddles his thumbs. He still can’t bear to look at you head-on, afraid that his emotions would be too obvious if he did. (Who is he kidding… He knows he’s fucking obvious, and yet you never seem to get the picture!) “Yea, I am. I’m here to deliver one to you, actually.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction, but he does notice the way your entire body stiffens. His mind immediately starts to run a minute, trying to guess why you’d suddenly gone stock still.

Did you know who your secret admirer was already? Or perhaps, were you just thoroughly shocked to receive one at all? That can’t be it… You’re the campus sweetheart! Surely it’s much weirder that it has taken eons for you to get your first hug… Or perhaps, are you so disgusted by the thought of him delivering the hug? Oh my god, what if you didn’t want him to hug you? Shit, this entire thing is a terrible idea! How did Seokjin ever convince him to do this stupid shit and get his heartbroken in the process? He swears he’s going to shove ten firecrackers up his ass the next time he sees him––

“Um, Yoongi?” You’re staring worriedly at him, your hand semi-raised as if you were about to wave in front of him. Did you say something? He must look like a fucking prick to you! He shakes his head, trying desperately to get his mind back into his body. Why must he be cursed with inner monologue disease? What is he, some sort of shoujo manga male protagonist?

“Sorry about that. I’ve been a little spacey these days,” he laughs, but even he can hear the panic laced in his voice. He sounds just on the edge of being hysterical. “Ahaha… What were you saying?”

“I was just… shocked?” You giggle softly, making Yoongi cry internally. You smirk, mischief glittering in your eyes. “I just never imagined you’d be the type to… I don’t know…”

“Willingly hug people for the sake of capitalism? I feel you,” Yoongi snorts, forgetting for a moment who he’s talking to. “Believe me, I’d rather drop dead than allow Seokjin to use me for his stupid business venture.”

“Then why are you delivering a hug to me now?” you ask, still smiling.

“Hnng,” Yoongi’s tongue feels like it’s grown two sizes all of a sudden. He wheezes, choking on his own spit as he’s caught off guard by your question. “W-well, I––”

“Just being a good friend, I’m guessing?” You’re full-on giggling now, barely trying to hide your mirth behind your hands. Yoongi understands now; you’re teasing him. He hates how amused you are by his awkwardness, but he loves the way your entire expression lights up, like you’re enjoying yourself by being with him.

“Let’s go with that,” Yoongi mumbles, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. He has his head bowed, hoping that his unruly fringe can finally come in handy and hide the disastrous blush encompassing his face. “Right… I’ll just, umm…”

“Am I getting my hug today, or am I gonna have to take a rain check?” You laugh, slapping his shoulder in an attempt to help him shake off the awkward tension. It has the opposite intended effect, as Yoongi’s breath hitches imperceptibly at your proximity. You had taken a step closer, and Yoongi could smell the sweet perfume you always seemed to be wearing. Please don’t pop a boner right now. That would be super fucking creepy.

“You’re…” Yoongi hesitates, arms uselessly immobile by his sides. He doesn’t know if he can even get them to move at this point, as he has lost all motor skills the moment you had focused all your attention on him. It’s a miracle that his heart remembers to beat every so often. “I’m just… I’m just gonna go for it, okay?”

You nod, hands tucked neatly behind your back. “No need to be scared, Yoongi. I don’t bite,” you joke.

God, if you only knew about the dreams I’ve had of you. Yoongi hopes to all the deities from up above that he had not said that aloud, but you don’t seem to be disgusted, so he can only assume that his traitorous brain had disconnected with his mouth for the time being.

He shuffles closer to you, the warmth of your body closing in as he makes the grueling effort to lift his arms up to gently wrap themselves around you, but before he can even fully hug you––

You’re quick to reciprocate. With a small laugh, you wrap your own arms around his torso, nuzzling into his chest with more force than Yoongi was expecting. He lets out a soft wheeze, mouth dropping open when he is assaulted by the smell of your fruity shampoo. His hands hover awkwardly above you, still unsure of where it’s okay to touch you without weirding you out.

You tilt your face up, eyes crinkling cutely by the sheer force of your grin. Both of your faces are only centimeters away from each other, and Yoongi could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired. His breathing stills as he becomes positively mesmerized by the beautiful sight in front of him. He doesn’t even hear the sound of phone camera shutters around him, as he is much too deeply focused on nothing but you, you, you.

“Hey, don’t half-ass your hug! Gimme a good ol’ bear hug!” you whine, nudging his elbows gently to get them to move. Snapped out of his reverie, Yoongi mechanically does as you say, his head completely empty of thoughts. He wraps his arms tightly around your shoulders, his wrist knocking slightly against the back of your head until you’re back to snuggling deep into his chest.

“Your laundry detergent smells nice,” you say, slightly muffled by his shirt. Yoongi lets out a breathy laugh, mostly out of disbelief more than anything. He can’t even begin to process anything right now; he feels like he’s reverted back into a single-celled organism.

“Thanks?” Yoongi squeaks, but you don’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at being a Normal Person™️. You crane your neck upwards so that you’re looking him directly in the eye. There’s a twinkle of mischief there, like you’re enjoying Yoongi’s flushed face a little too much. He honestly feels like he’s seconds away from exploding into tiny bite-sized pieces, and he fears that if you snuggle deeper into his chest, he might just do exactly that.

“So… Are we just supposed to hug for another ten minutes, or am I allowed to let go?”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize how long it’s been. You could’ve been hugging him for ten hours and he wouldn’t have known. Yoongi jerks away from you, nearly vaulting himself across campus by how quickly he lets you go. Thankfully, you don’t appear offended––you were more amused than anything. Yoongi has no idea how red he is right now; he feels like he could be blowing steam out of his ears, astounding anatomists everywhere by his peculiar talent.

“I just have to–” Yoongi pats his back pockets for his phone, clumsily pulling it out and looking for his text messages, “–read this message from your, um, secret admirer and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” You nod at him enthusiastically. “Whenever you’re ready, Yoonie.”

Yoongi’s breath hitches right then, caught off guard by the nickname. Only you ever called him that, and it never fails to make Yoongi’s insides feel like molten lava every time you say it. “I… Yeah, here goes,” Yoongi mutters, trying his best to remember how to speak.

He recites the message with as much enthusiasm as he can manage, which is to say, not very much. He could probably read the phonebook with more zeal, but it’s hard to give it his all when the words feel like acid in his throat. He’s unconsciously clenching his jaw as he speaks, looking like a constipated gorilla. “...so, if you’re single and ready to #mingle, then––” Yoongi stops mid-sentence, staring resolutely at his phone screen with a grimace.

You blink confusedly. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Yoongi finishes, pocketing his phone without an inch of remorse. “I don’t know what was up with that message, but somehow the letter got cut short. Sorry about that.”

“Huh, strange.” You shrug your shoulders, not bothering to question him.

Yoongi fist bumps himself mentally, though other people might disagree and say that he doesn’t deserve any type of congratulations, to which Yoongi says a big “fuck you!” to those imaginary haters. In the wise words of Kim Seokjin himself, “not everyone is worthy to receive your fucks, so it’s time to stop giving them.” (Kim, 2020)

“Well, that was fun! Thanks for delivering the hug to me, Yoonie,” you pinch Yoongi’s cheek, giggling when they turn even redder. “I’ll see you around, I guess? Don’t let those midterms kill ya!” You wave cheerily at him, walking past him and heading towards the bus stops. Yoongi stands frozen in place, the events of the last few minutes finally catching up to him and frying his brain beyond repair.

Oh my god, he fucking hugged you! Like, a good and genuine hug! You felt so warm and so soft and you smelled really good and it was more than he could ever imagine and just––

Yoongi’s brain is trying (and failing) to desperately parse the delayed barrage of information as it comes, but it’s hard for the little hamster running circles in his head when it has never had to run a day in its life. Yoongi’s body feels like it’s overheating even though the weather is nearing the start of winter, but that’s all thanks to you and the devastating effect you have on him.

In short, Yoongi machine has broken, and any sort of maintenance is going to be hard to come by at the moment.

Yoongi could have been standing in front of the Science building for an entire year and he wouldn’t have budged until a tornado in the form of Kim Seokjin arrived to knock him out of his brain dead state. Whistling lowly, the elder stops in front of the rigid mass of meat, an eyebrow quirked in exasperation. “Dude, nice rigor mortis cosplay. Like, yes girl, give us nothing!” he exclaims, slapping Yoongi back to consciousness.

Yoongi blinks rapidly, dazed like he’s woken up from a dream. “What? What’s happening?” he replies dumbly.

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Yoongi. Did you finish delivering Y/N’s hug or what? I finished all my deliveries in the same time you had with Y/N, so I better hope to God you aren’t planning on applying to be an employee of mine, because you certainly have a long way to go before––”

“I hugged her,” Yoongi interrupts, eyes going glassy once more. His mouth is agape, and Seokjin can see a pool of saliva forming, ready to runneth over. He could see the rusted gears turning inside his dongsaeng’s head. “Oh my god, hyung. I fucking hugged her.”

“Yeah, and I hugged Taehyung Kim and felt his gigantic dick press into my stomach. You aren’t special,” Seokjin snorts, clasping Yoongi by the bicep. He drags him away, leading them to their parked car. “C’mon, Dampé. I’m tired and I wanna eat popcorn again.”

As they walk back to the parking lot, the campus roads are a lot less populated now that most students have gone home. Yoongi only then realizes how late it truly is and he vaguely wonders how long he had been stuck standing there before Seokjin had come to drag him back home. The sun has begun its daily descent, filling the courtyard with a warm glow and causing their shadows to grow longer as they trudge quietly to their car.

The campus is quiet enough that both of them hear the quiet buzz of Seokjin’s phone, despite him putting it on silent mode before he had gone on his hugging deliveries. He stops mid-step, causing Yoongi to bump his nose into his wide back. He yelps, shoving Seokjin forward in irritation.

“Why’d you fucking stop, you asshole?” Yoongi whines, his normal annoying personality resurfacing now that he’s begun to recover from your hug. He peers over Seokjin’s behemoth shoulders, squinting at his phone screen. “What? Another hug delivery?”

“Yeah. I’ll do it tomorrow since I think she’s gone home for the day,” Seokjin says, his tone sounding slightly too delighted for comfort. “In fact, I know she’s gone home already.”

Yoongi stills, changing his focus onto the elder’s expression. He looks… too eager to receive a simple hug-o-gram request. A shiver shoots through Yoongi’s spine when he realizes how nefariously bastardous Seokjin’s smile has grown, the tips of his smirk curling upwards like a villain from a classic Disney animation.

“What?” Yoongi glares acidly at Seokjin, but the elder is unaffected. In fact, he seems to grow more pleased the more aggravated Yoongi becomes. “Spit it out! What’s got your prostate tickled?”

“Oh, nothing,” Seokjin singsongs, shoving his phone down the front of his pants, exactly where he knows Yoongi would never touch. “Just got an interesting new regular customer, is all.”

“A new regular?” Yoongi’s pitch heightens, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling in alarm (like a cat.) “Is it… Another request for… You know who?”

“I wasn’t aware Voldemort went to our university,” Seokjin teases, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s distress. “Though, if you’re talking about Y/N, then the answer is not not not no.”

“Two double negatives.” Anyone could hear the audible soft rattling of his two brain cells exerting themselves as Yoongi deciphers his answer. “That means…”

Yoongi stares pointedly at Seokjin’s crotch, where the outline of his phone is glaringly obvious. “Show me,” Yoongi growls, not making a move to actually touch Seokjin’s nether regions.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “No one’s stopping you from taking my phone though?”

“Hyung!”

“Buy me bubble tea first, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine,” Yoongi acquiesces, folding his arms in annoyance. “Just tell me. Is it really the same guy who requested the hug for Y/N today as well?”

Seokjin fiddles around for his phone, digging deeper when it nearly drops down the leg of his pants. When he pulls it out and swipes to his e-mails, he confirms Yoongi’s fear. “Yep. And it seems like he saw you deliver the hug today. Says that he’d prefer that I deliver the hug next time,” Seokjin smirks, enjoying the deep-set frown on Yoongi’s face.

When Seokjin takes a closer look at the order, however, he notices something a little off. “Hold on a sec,” he scrolls to the receipt, scowling when he sees the incorrect amount. “Well, you might be in luck, Yoongi-chi. Looks like loverboy sent the wrong payment. He’s a few dollars short.”

“What?” Yoongi says, for what feels like the tenth time in this entire fic. He grabs Seokjin’s phone, no longer repulsed by where it had been only a few minutes prior. Like Seokjin said, the customer had given the wrong amount, much to both their confusion.

“That’s weird, considering he just ordered a hug today,” Seokjin murmurs, shaking his head. “Oh well. Happens to the best of us. Guess I’ll just have to refund the poor sap.”

“Wait,” Yoongi presses the phone to his chest, preventing Seokjin from taking it. His hyung raises a brow.

“What is it?”

“What if I just… pay you the remaining amount? Then I can also deliver the hug to her and, uhh...” Yoongi mumbles the remaining part, but Seokjin has trained his ears to catch every whisper and mutter for moments just like this. He wouldn’t be where he is today if he didn’t perfect his eavesdropping skills to a spy’s degree. That’s right––Seokjin is a sloppy and nosey bitch and he’s not afraid to admit it!

“Oh? Do my ears deceive me?” Seokjin guffaws, pinching Yoongi’s cheeks for good measure. He hisses in response, but Seokjin isn’t afraid of some little kitten. Seokjin is a bigger bitch with a meaner bite. “Is my little Yoongi Woongi seriously offering to deliver another hug to Miss Y/N? How magnanimous of you.”

Yoongi stares at him, stunned for a moment. A few seconds pass before he shakes his head, faux disdain coloring his expression. “That’s right,” Yoongi huffs, detaching himself from Seokjin’s meaty claws. He keeps his gaze averted, like the big stupid tsundere that he is. “I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart! I care about your profits, and I want to make your workload a little lighter! Isn’t that what you want?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Seokjin snickers, poking Yoongi in the tit. He swivels away, skipping merrily away to their parked car. “I’m expecting that cash in my Paypal by the time I get to the car, or else the deal is off. Make it snappy, loverboy!”

Yoongi had never transferred cash to someone so quickly in his life.

(Yes, not even when the food court on campus was doing a BOGO promo for churros. That’s the extent of how whipped his ass is, period.)

x x x x x

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious.

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

“Listen, I’m seriously not forcing you to do this,” Seokjin starts, even though he’s giving his utmost effort to further embarrass Yoongi by handing out flyers about Hug-o-gram’s newest employee. “Please, take one!” he cajoles, offering a flyer to a gaggle of giggling freshmen. “Make sure to reserve a hug within the week! Yoongi-chi over here is on his way to becoming employee of the month if he gets ten requests by Friday!” They all point and whisper at Yoongi, and he swears he hears one of them wolf whistle in admiration.

“That’s what makes this entire thing terrible. I’m doing this on my own volition, and I absolutely abhor myself for it,” Yoongi moans, grabbing Seokjin’s stack of flyers and smacking himself in the head with them. It probably would’ve hurt more when Seokjin still had a full-stack, but people had swarmed them the moment they entered the heart of the campus, everyone curious to see Yoongi in his interesting attire.

Seokjin might have been famous for creating the Hug-o-gram Service, but Yoongi was famous for hating the business idea, so it’s easy to understand why everyone was interested. (For good reason, he thinks darkly to himself.)

“Damn, Yoongi-chi. Looks like you’re trending on the campus Reddit page,” Seokjin laughs, wheezing even harder when Yoongi points him with a murderous glare. “What? Like you said, this was all your idea.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask to wear… whatever this is!” Yoongi whines, tugging on the string around his neck. The cardboard sign had been ready and prepared the moment they arrived home the other day, arousing Yoongi’s suspicions on Seokjin’s actual involvement in his current predicament. Those suspicions are put in the backburner for now, however, as Yoongi actually feels like he might die of embarrassment instead of the packets of MSG coursing through his veins from the ten ramen packs he ate this morning. Maybe both will kill him, if he’s lucky.

“Well, I would love to lend you my uniform, but I haven’t gotten a t-shirt printed with your face on it yet, so you’ll have to deal with the kitten ears and cardboard sign for now,” Seokjin says, patting him on the back. “Or, would you rather I have you wear a shirt with my face on it? I’m open to suggestions.”

“I’d rather swallow a Tide pod, thanks,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth. “C’mon, let’s move. We’ve been standing in the middle of campus like street clowns for long enough. We need to find Y/N because her class is about to end.”

“Street clowns, huh? I guess you are only missing the make-up to complete the look, especially since you seem adamant to keep honking your way through that sickening crush of yours.” Seokjin nearly catches a punch to the head, but his superior reaction time saves him from Yoongi’s sorely lacking physicality. He snatches Yoongi by the hand, dragging them towards your lecture hall. “C’mon, clown! Let’s honk this bread!”

As the two of them get closer to where you are, Yoongi’s heartbeat begins to accelerate. He wonders idly if he should see a doctor after all this, hoping that he hadn’t actually contracted heart disease due to all this stress. Lord forbid that he meet his end before he even gets to ask you out or something!

Even though he’s already hugged you once (and it was, by far, the most euphoric experience of his sad, miserable life), he still finds himself getting clammy hands at the thought of seeing you again. Nevermind the fact that he looked like a walking circus with his get-up… No, Yoongi refuses to think about it anymore, lest his last remaining brain wrinkle irreversibly smoothens.

The campus clock rings loudly, signaling the end of another block of classes. Students rush out of the buildings, with you being one of the first ones out for a change. When Yoongi spots your head of hair among the crowd, he doesn’t immediately notice what you’re wearing at first. In fact, it’s Seokjin who stops in his tracks for a moment, surprised by how you look.

“Woah, Y/N! Looking good,” Seokjin greets, rushing past Yoongi to envelop you in a hug. (A platonic hug, Yoongi reminds himself. Because unlike Yoongi, Seokjin is a normal human being who can give hugs to anyone he wants because he’s… fucking Seokjin! Lucky bastard that he is.)

“Woah!” You laugh, surprised by the sudden hug. You pat him on the back giddily, allowing him to swing you around a little. “What’s this all about? Am I getting a hug-o-gram again?”

“Yes, you are. But not from me,” Seokjin detaches himself from you, scooting away to point at Yoongi. When Seokjin moves away, Yoongi finally understands why his hyung had said you looked good. No, that was an understatement––you looked [redacted].

(For the sake of the author’s fragile ash-coated heart, she has chosen to redact Yoongi’s exact words to protect herself from slamming her head against a keyboard from how cheesy this fic is becoming. Let’s just say the word starts with a B and ends with an L. Make of that as you will.)

You must have come out of an interview or presentation of sorts because you were dressed more nicely than you usually do, which is a pretty big deal considering how put together you always looked. Your hair is styled nicely, obviously given much more care and effort than your regular appearance. You’re wearing a cute little black dress, long enough to be professional but short enough to give Yoongi breathing problems.

If Yoongi’s brain had a playlist, it would be nothing but the sound of him going HNNNNNNNNNG on repeat.

“Oh geez.” Yoongi curses lowly, smiling through the pain. This is fine, he thinks, even though it is clearly not fine. Yoongi has always been a terrible liar.

“Yoongi?” You sound incredulous, though that’s honestly a win in Yoongi’s book considering everything. You didn’t look disgusted, so that’s great. “You look…” You stop yourself, covering your mouth to hide your grin but your amusement is palpable. At least he made you laugh, he supposes.

“Like a fucking idiot? You said it,” Yoongi snorts, arms crossed defiantly. He’s trying to look intimidating, but with his cheeks puffed up and these abominable kitten ears on his head, he looks more like a grumpy cat throwing a tantrum. He juts a thumb at Seokjin, “Thank this himbo for the outfit. I definitely would have chosen something more… inconspicuous.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You quip, still trying to mask your giggles. On the other hand, Seokjin was wheezing like a hyena, his phone pulled out and presumably filming Yoongi to add to his cringe compilation.

“Exactly what I said!” Seokjin says through his laughter, tears of mirth streaming down his face. He walks back to Yoongi, pushing him forward until he’s face to face with you. “Go on, then! We haven’t got all day!”

“I’m assuming you’re officially part of Seokjin’s hug-o-gram business now?” you ask, opening your arms wide to accept his hug. Like the beta male that he is, Yoongi has to be the one to follow in your footsteps, meekly coming closer to wrap you in an embrace.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Yoongi mutters, tucking his chin onto your shoulder. He feels you vibrate with laughter, bringing a small smile on his own face. He likes making you laugh, always has.

With the cardboard sign serving as a barrier between the two of you, he isn’t as fearful of you feeling the erratic beat of his heart, though it wouldn’t be hard to guess if you looked at him. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy your hug rather than just panic through the entire ordeal like yesterday.

Soon enough, you’re detaching yourself from him, still standing close. Your arm is just a hair’s breadth away, and if not for Seokjin enthusiastically videotaping this entire experience, Yoongi might have closed in for another hug if he could manage.

“It’s always nice to get a hug from someone you like, huh?” You say, cheeks tinted a rosy color. The true meaning of your words flies over Yoongi’s head, as his feeble mind chooses to focus on your comment a little differently.

“I––Of course I like you! We’re friends, aren’t we?” Yoongi laughs nervously, unaware that he’s slowly digging himself into a ditch. To the side, Seokjin audibly slaps a hand to his face, body shivering with secondhand embarrassment from being blasted by the full force of how idiotic his friend actually is.

Yoongi sees you deflate a little, further confusing him. “Yeah, you’re right I guess…” You sigh, taking a step backward dejectedly. Yoongi flounders a little, unsure how he managed to fuck up in just a few seconds when you had just hugged him like your life depended on it.

Choosing now to interfere before the going gets rough, Seokjin steps in between and slings an arm around both of you. Yoongi groans under the weight of his arm, glaring when he notices that Seokjin had done it on purpose, but only to him. You don’t look too bothered by his rude gesture, albeit you were more befuddled than before.

“Hey, Y/N! I don’t know if you’ve ever ordered a hug-o-gram before, but I’m doing a special this week! Now that Yoongi-chi has so kindly joined the team,” Seokjin gives him a pointed look, to which the black-haired music major sticks his tongue out petulantly, “we’re doing a little promotion for first-time customers! Would you be interested in ordering one?”

Your eyes widen, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “M-me? Ordering a hug-o-gram? Well, I…” you hesitate, sending a small glance at Yoongi before looking away in embarrassment. “I would like to, but I don’t know if it’ll be well received, you see…”

Seokjin grumbles, silently cursing the stupid shithead who caused his own demise in the first place. The worst part is that he had no idea that he totally just friendzoned you! YOU! Someone who was literally leagues ahead of him. He sincerely has no idea what you see in this bumbling idiot, but everyone with a brain knows that you have been crushing on him for as long as he’s been crushing on you, so perhaps you’re a little bit of an idiot yourself for liking him back.

Being friends with the two of you makes him feel like he’s constantly wearing a sloppy wet diaper, and he hates it. He wants to wipe his ass as soon as possible!

Seokjin shoves Yoongi away roughly, ignoring his indignant squawks as he pulls you aside. He takes you by the hand, taking you a few steps away from Yoongi, far enough that he can whisper into your ear without the other boy hearing.

Yoongi fumes from the sidelines, trying to keep his emotions in check even though he’s bursting at the seams with jealousy. Not for the first time, Yoongi irritably realizes that he does act like a cat, especially in moments like this. He might make fun of Seokjin for being an attention whore, but Yoongi is the same, if only at a smaller scale. He just wants you to look at him, as selfish as that sounds.

Can someone give him a break? He’s been holding in his crush for four years now… Imagine having to take a massive shit after drinking two gallons of milk while being lactose intolerant, except every time you line up for the washroom, the line gets increasingly long no matter how long you wait. That is the extent of his suffering, he tells himself. So please, excuse his dramatics for this one instance.

(Seokjin’s Note: This fucking jackass is SO stupid. If he only knew how easy it is to ask you out, he would know that his emotional constipation could be solved if he just fucking ASKED where the next washroom is. He could have relieved himself ages ago, but NO! And he calls me the idiot! Me! The utter betrayal! I’m never agreeing to become the second lead to a rom-com ever again!)

When Seokjin finishes whispering in your ears, you appear amused by what he had said. Yoongi sweats when you turn to face him, grinning slyly at him. “Is that so…” you wonder aloud. Yoongi feels like the world has shifted on its axis somewhat, though he still doesn’t know exactly how. He has a hunch that he’s going to find out soon enough.

“Would I ever lie to you?” Seokjin laughs that annoying laugh of his, slapping his thigh in the process. He straightens up almost immediately, his expression turning deadpan in an instant. “Send me the details by tonight, and I’ll make sure to deliver it, okay?”

“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up towards him. Yoongi might have let out a high pitched sob when he sees the gesture, wanting nothing more than to cup your hands in his. God, if he already nearly died from hugging you, who is to say Yoongi won’t immediately disintegrate if you were ever to hold his hand?

“Promise,” Seokjin replies, linking his pinky with yours. He doesn’t forget to point a shit-eating grin at Yoongi, for good measure.

You pull away, looking happier than you did moments prior. You were absolutely glowing, filling Yoongi with a warmth that only you ever knew how to provide. He wants to make you smile like that all the time, wants nothing more than for you to live beside him, filling his walls with the sound of your tinkling laughter. You wave cheerily at the both of them, stepping away to head home. “I guess I’ll see you, then? I’ll make sure to e-mail you my request, Seokjin!” you say, winking teasingly. “Bye to you too, Yoongi! Thanks for the hug!”

Yoongi watches as you walk further and further away as the usual melancholy that follows whenever you leave soon takes its place in his soul. It might be his imagination, but Yoongi thinks the cat ears on his head might have started to droop to match his mood.

The only way he knows how to replace the sadness, however, is by redirecting those emotions on an unsuspecting victim. Lucky for him, a willing volunteer is already within punching distance.

“Ow! Stop punching me, you gremlin!” Seokjin whines, blocking Yoongi’s series of punches like a pro. He might as well put ‘professional punching bag’ on his resume at this point. “I’m trying to help you, you useless beta male!”

“How is this helping! You made me wear cat ears and whispered blasphemies into Y/N’s ears! Now she’s going to order a hug-o-gram for her crush and it’ll be the end of my chances with her! How could you!”

“I was not whispering blasphemies, you twittering tit! I was giving her advice,” Seokjin sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t say I never help you, by the way. I’ve been trying to help you for years now.”

Yoongi hits him with a steely glare. “Really? So replacing all my clothes in my closet with clown attire is your version of help? I had to wear those stupid clown shoes for a week before you told me where you hid my clothes, jackass!”

“I was only trying to help you physically express yourself! You’re already a clown on paper, might as well help you achieve your final form!” Seokjin huffs, infuriatingly haughty. “Listen, believe me. I only told Y/N something that everyone already knows anyway, so just shut your trap and let Daddy handle the rest. You’re not going to lose her, I promise.”

“Please never refer to yourself as Daddy ever again,” Yoongi seethes, stalking off towards their car. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

“No talk, Yoobie angy…” Seokjin snickers to himself, following Yoongi with a spring in his step. This bastard is going to grovel at his feet by tomorrow evening, he’s sure of it. If he doesn’t, then Seokjin will bite his own dick in half––that’s how sure he is of his plan! (Not that biting his dick in half will do anything to his length; he’d still be left with eight inches, let’s be real.) All in good time.

x x x x x

Seokjin gets an e-mail the next morning, much earlier than any sane person would choose to be awake at. He groans lowly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to read the contents of the letter. When he’s satisfied by what he has read, he forwards the e-mail to Yoongi before allowing sleep to take him once more.

Sleep evades him, however, when the sound of Yoongi’s big feet pounds noisily outside his bedroom. He hits his knee loudly against the coffee table, causing their beloved popcorn machine to tumble to the floor, but that is of little consequence to Yoongi right now. No, he needs to get into Seokjin’s room right now and scream––

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Yoongi hollers, slamming Seokjin’s door open. The hinges creak, desperately hanging on despite the impact. Yoongi proceeds to slam a fist upon Seokjin’s ass, who barely flinches due to the fatness of his ass cushioning most of the damage. He blinks blearily at Yoongi, but the smirk on his face is clear as day.

“Came to claim your hug so early in the morning? Well, I usually don’t entertain clients until after I’ve taken a shower, but for you… I’ll make an exception,” he yawns, peeling back his blanket and patting the empty spot on his bed. “Come on in, Yoobie Boobie… Let’s hug like it’s the last day on earth.”

Seokjin fails to realize that once he removed his blanket, he had inadvertently left himself vulnerable. Yoongi slams the heel of his foot against Seokjin’s groin, causing him to shriek bloody murder at 7 AM. He wonders, amidst his pain, whether this might be the last straw and that their landlord will finally kick them out after years of their stupid shenanigans.

“WHAT DID THAT E-MAIL MEAN? IF IT’S WHAT I THINK IT IS…” Yoongi threatens, but it’s as empty as Seokjin’s butthole. They both know the implications of that e-mail, even a toddler can put two and two together and make sense out of it. Anonymous e-mail or not, Seokjin wouldn’t just forward any hug-o-gram request to Yoongi, unless…

What did the e-mail say? It goes something like:

Dear Mr. Kim,

Thank you for offering your special promotion for new time customers of your Hug-o-gram Service! I’ve always been a quiet fan of your business idea, but I’ve always been a little shy to submit a request of my own. Thank you so much for giving me the little push that I needed to send my first (and hopefully last) hug.

I’d like to send a hug to Mr. Min Yoongi from the Music Department. I understand that he has recently been appointed an employee at your business, but seeing as how it’d be difficult for him to hug himself (while not entirely impossible), I’d like to request that you be the one to send the hug to him.

I don’t really have a message for him, per se… I’m still a little shy, even though you already told me that there is no reason to be. I want to believe what you said was true, so I’m pushing my fear aside and putting my fate into your hands. So, to Mr. Min Yoongi… “When I told you it was nice to hug someone you like, I don’t think you understood what I meant. A hug, after all, is a two-way street. They’re often served the best when it is reciprocated, if you catch my drift. :)”

Peace! :3

Regards,

[Redacted] [Redacted]

“Have your brain synapses finished connecting? Because if even this flies over your head, I’m sorry to say buddy but… You might have smooth brain syndrome,” Seokjin pipes up. He observes Yoongi’s brow crumpling, the first signal of his impending mental breakdown. If Seokjin remembers correctly, the next signal should be when––

Yoongi drops down to his knees, his phone clattering to the floor as he stares absently at the ceiling. Seokjin cringes, worried for the state of his friend’s frail kneecaps. The poor sap has bad heart health already; surely, it isn’t too early to get him a life alert button?

Seokjin scooches over his bed, dangling half his body over the edge to appraise his friend. “So. What do you plan to do now?”

For a moment, Yoongi remains silent. Eventually, he shuffles closer to him, perching his hands around Seokjin. The business student raises a brow, confused, until Yoongi pushes Seokjin back onto the middle of the bed so that he can cram himself beside Seokjin on his small double bed. He huffs amusedly, allowing the smaller boy to snuggle into his chest, though he still refuses to wrap his arms around him. Close enough, Seokjin snorts.

“I need your help, hyung.” Yoongi’s voice is small, shy. It’s so uncharacteristic of him that Seokjin immediately softens. They might act like toddlers together the majority of the time, but Seokjin truly does care about Yoongi more than anything. During early mornings like this, when the sun’s soft rays are filtering through his sheer curtains and filling the room with a gentle warmth, it’s nice to cuddle up with one another and enjoy the silence. In fact, Seokjin would never admit it to Yoongi, but he got the idea for his Hug-o-gram service from Yoongi himself, back when the younger boy would be more prone to sneaking into his bed during his bouts of loneliness and homesickness.

Above all else, Yoongi is just a boy with a lot of love to give, so who is Seokjin to say no to his pleas for help?

“You know I always got your back, Yoongi-chi. Whenever you’re ready, we can do whatever you want. Ask and you’ll receive,” he replies, caressing his soft black tresses. Yoongi hums, smiling softly into his chest.

“Thanks, dude. For being… you know.”

Seokjin’s heart pangs a little, but he ignores it. Instead, he continues combing through his hair, humming gently. “I know.”

x x x x x

It’s been a few days since you sent the e-mail to Seokjin and you haven’t heard back from him. You aren’t sure if he sends confirmation e-mails to his clients as you’d never asked for a hug-o-gram before, nor did you know anyone who has. You are forced to continue on with your days like normal, trying to ignore the unsettling anxiety from creeping up your throat and spewing all over the sidewalk.

If Seokjin hadn’t been lying to you, then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. You’ve been harboring this crush on Yoongi for years now, and you never thought in your life that it would ever be reciprocated. He always seemed a little bit detached, a little too cool for you. Never mind the fact that he always seemed so jittery around you, like it was hard to talk to you or something!

Your answer comes on the last day of the week, after an especially rough day at class. Your back is bent, having finished a grueling four hour lab period where you did nothing but stand and stare at your reaction vessel spinning without any signal of change. You are just a little bit hangry from all the stress piling up on your plate, especially since you hadn’t eaten a decent meal since breakfast at 8 AM.

In short, life isn’t going as smoothly as you’d hoped for your senior year, but you can’t let the blues get to you too soon. After all, there are leftover chicken wings in your fridge with your name on it, and nothing beats your meat more than greasy poultry to end a terrible week.

You’re only inches away from sliding your keycard to open your shared dorm room when the door opens without prompting. You flinch backward, yelping loudly when your roommate Park Jimin grins slyly from the doorway––never a good sign, if you knew anything.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jimin says, leaning casually against the door like he hadn’t just scared the living shit out of you. He takes one glance at your disheveled hair and lightly sweaty clothes before grimacing in disgust. “Girl, I can’t let you meet the love your life while you’re looking like that. Come on, we have a few minutes before he arrives. Let’s get you freshened up.”

“I’m sorry?” You squeak, allowing your roommate to manhandle you into your own home. He pushes you into your room, depositing you roughly onto your unmade bed. You try to make eye contact with him, but he’s too busy raiding your closet to pay you much attention. “Excuse me? What did you say just now?”

“No time, princess! Your Prince Charming is on the way, and I’ve been ordered by Seokjin to prepare you for this life-changing moment, so get your ass into gear and change into this!” He shoves a clean pair of jeans and a nicer-looking blouse at you before proceeding to grab your hairbrush and comb your tresses with the gentleness of a mother tigress. You shriek when the brush gets tangled in an especially stubborn knot, but Jimin is relentless. He nearly tears your hair by the roots, ignoring your pained whines.

“Will you fucking stop! I have literally no idea why you’re acting like a psycho all of a sudden–” You shout when Jimin begins to undress you, having to kick him in the chest to get him away from completely eradicating your remaining traces of dignity. “Okay, fine! I’ll dress myself! Just get out of my room and fucking stay away!”

Jimin looks at you dubiously for a split second, before eventually acquiescing. “You have two minutes to get changed. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, do you?” he says, smirking knowingly. He better dread the day that you finally wipe that annoying twinkle in his eye; it’s been a long time coming.

Left alone to your own devices, you do as Jimin says even though you’re still wildly confused by everything. To think you had been so excited to feast on your chicken wings, and instead, you went through a decade’s worth of torture within the last few minutes. Patting your hands on the butt of your jeans, you meekly take a step out of your bedroom, where Jimin is already tapping his foot impatiently by the door.

He motions for you to hurry up. “Let’s go! Seokjin says they’re rounding up the corner. Hold on,” he steps closer to you, raising your arm up to take a shameless sniff of your pits. “Sorry, had to make a pit stop. You can never be too sure,” he shrugs, disregarding your squawks of indignation.

“I smell fine! Now what are we–” Your sentence is cut short as Jimin all but carries you to the elevator, your shrieks of terror causing one or two of your neighbors to peek their heads out of their doors. When they see it’s just the two of you, they simply shrug their shoulders, returning to their lives like it was normal to see Jimin carry you in a fireman’s hold.

He doesn’t put you down until you reach the lobby of your dorm complex, barely out of breath despite having held you the entire way down. Stupid buff baby, you groan internally to yourself, straightening down your clothes in a desperate attempt to look decent. “Okay, we’re here. Who am I supposed to be meeting?”

In lieu of an answer, Jimin points wordlessly outside your building. A black car is parked on the other side of the road, and you can barely see a familiar head of hair poking out from the driver’s seat. “Seokjin? What the…” you trail off, before your eyes finally land on their target.

Yoongi stands outside the glass doorway, not dressed in his usual all-black attire. He’s wearing an outrageously cute pink shirt today, matching the color of his natural flush. He always looks effortlessly good, with his hair a little windswept in that boyishly cute way. Your mouth goes a little dry when you realize he’s wearing his famous leather jacket, the one that always got the girls and boys swooning when he walked past in them. You hated how whipped for him you were, not wanting to be like the weird kids in his secret fan club, but who can blame you? He’s just so…

You rip open the door, nearly tripping and falling over the short steps leading to the entrance. You grind to a halt in front of him and you’re acutely aware of how rabid you must look. Your chest is pounding, like your heart is begging you to step closer, just like when you had hugged him all those days ago. God, you were going to kill Park Jimin for this.

“Yoongi? What are you…” You take one look at him before your gaze drops to his hands folded carefully behind his back. It doesn’t hide the fact that there is an obvious bouquet of flowers behind him, though. Your face lights on fire when you notice they were your favorite flowers too.

“I’m here to deliver a hug?” Yoongi says it like he’s unsure of himself, but there’s a little coyness laced in his tone. His cheeks are painted a soft pink, and not for the first time, they remind you of freshly baked bread pulled out from the oven. Soft enough to kiss, you wonder idly to yourself.

“I mean… I did order a hug a few days ago, but I do recall not ordering one for myself?” you laugh a little hysterically, your breath cutting short when Yoongi grins softly in response. “I… Who is this hug from?”

Yoongi takes a glance back towards Seokjin. “Hey, boss. Am I allowed to reveal who the secret admirers are, or will that get me fired?”

Seokjin, despite being a few meters away, laughs loud enough for the whole street to hear. “Well, Yoongi-chi. Something tells me your resignation letter was coming in the mail eventually. Who cares about the rules at this point?”

“He’s right,” you quip, pulling Yoongi’s attention back. You’re smiling wide now, your hopes and dreams skyrocketing in your chest and blooming a garden in your heart. “Who cares, right?”

“Right,” Yoongi agrees, taking the last two steps he needs to get closer to you. He drops the bouquet somewhere behind you before finally, finally, embracing you once more. He kisses you gently on the forehead, the contact short and sweet.

You feel like you’re dying, but it’s all good because Yoongi looks just as embarrassed as you. But none of it matters, not when both your happiness is palpable in the air.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“This hug-o-gram is from me to you. Will you go out with me?”

You’ve always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. So when you lean in to plant your first kiss of many many more, he knows your answer well enough.

3K notes · View notes

annenhypen · 3 years

Text

Falling

jay x reader

high school au! strangers to friends to lovers au!

word count: 2.8k

writer’s note: this is the longest work i have written so far and I ENJOYED WRITING IT SO MUCH! I really want to write drabbles for this pairing if this does well!!! let me know what you guys think.

tags: @gratefulmaria @azeugirdor @eggbutnotyolk @jungwon-luv-bot-pt3

Before Meeting Him

You and your boyfriend, Daniel, had a steady relationship. Growing up together and ending up going to the same schools, it was like you guys were destined to be together. You were best friends until one day he asked you out and decided to change your title to his “girlfriend”.

You were seated next to him in the first period as he turned his head to face you.

“I heard there’s a new transfer student in our class” he informed you, causing your eyebrows to shoot up. Students rarely changed schools in the beginning of the senior year, so you got curious about the new presence in your class.

He entered the classroom on his first day, dressed in a black hoodie in contrast to his bleached hair but matching his black jeans. Every clothing he put on that day was black except for the four silver rings he put on his hands. He stood next to your teacher and introduced himself to the class. Despite his dark style, he introduced himself with a bright smile that caught your attention for a little too long. Jay. His name fits his appearance you thought. You watched him walk to the only empty seat in the classroom which was the seat in front of your boyfriend who was sitting next to you. You looked away when he made eye contact with you, catching you staring at him.

Meeting Him

Turns out that Jay was not just your classmate. He was also the son of the family who moved in next door. You were surprised to see him open the door when your mother sent you to give your new neighbors a welcome gift, freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. You collected yourself and smiled brightly, holding out the plate filled with cookies in front of you.

“Hello, I am Y/N. I live next door and my mother sent these for you to say welcome to our neighborhood.” you explained, finally looking at his eyes. He smiled back at you, taking the plate out of your hands.

“Thank you so much, it’s very nice of her and you. I am Jay. I am pretty sure we are classmates as well.” he answered. You nodded at him.

“I’ll see you in class then” you said and took one step back to go back to your house. You saw him wave a goodbye at you before turning around.

An Offer

Many things were unpredictable in your life. For example, you never expected your relationship with Daniel to come to an end so quickly but it did. You also did not expect your long term friendship with your -now- ex boyfriend to get ruined, following your break-up. You were still seated next to each other in class but you rarely talked. He never texted you about anything other than your classes. It was a hard time for both of you. You were sad because losing a friend who has been there all along was not easy to take it in.

“I am going to assign all of you into study groups today. I am expecting you guys to meet outside of class to encourage each other to study for the upcoming exams” announced your homeroom teacher on the third Friday of your senior year, causing your classmates to whine to voice their complaints out. You opened your notebook as you waited for your name to be called.

“Ruby, Luke, Y/N, Jay and Daniel, you guys are Team B” you heard your teacher added after checking his journal.

Here’s how these “study groups” worked: every group member had to do their best and get a good grade on the exams. After the exams week, the average grade for each team was calculated by your teacher and the team with the highest average score received a prize in return. This way, your teacher made sure everyone helped each other to increase the average grade for their teams.

“Make sure to exchange phone numbers and make a group chat to discuss your study plans and meetings” your teacher suggested.

You pulled out a loose-leaf and tapped on Jay’s shoulder who was seating in front of Daniel. He looked back with a questioning expression.

“Write your phone number down and pass the paper to Ruby” you confided and he nodded back at you before taking the paper from your hands. You took the paper back after Ruby and Luke wrote their numbers down. Of course you did not have to ask for Daniel’s number.

“I’ll create a group chat after school, we can discuss the details there” you reported, gaining a nod from every member of your study group.

You were a competitive student. Your grades were always above average and these study group contests made you even more ambitious. As nerdy as it sounded, you wanted to make sure everyone in your team performed well on the upcoming exams.

You knew Ruby was a bright student. Daniel studied regularly as well. Luke was okay as far as you knew. However, you did not know about Jay’s academics. You were determined to learn about it and help him if he needed your help.

“Hey Jay, do you want to walk home together after school?” you asked, smiling politely. He turned to you in surprise and took a look at Daniel’s face. He smirked at Daniel’s clenched jaw and accepted your offer.

Plans

You saw Jay playing with his phone in front of the school gates when you exited the school building. He was wearing his leather jacket, making you look like a child next to him with your fluffy pastel pink cardigan and white outfit. He put his phone into his back pocket when you reached his side.

“You ready?” he questioned looking down at your face. You looked so short compared to his tall figure. You felt intimidated by his eyes and chose to look down at your shoes before nodding your head.

“So… How are you?” he asked, breaking the dead silence as you walked side by side.

“I’m good. I should ask you how you are. Were you able to get used to living here?” you asked, feeling, less nervous as you walked.

“Yes… Actually, I couldn't explore much since I don’t have many friends around here and I usually just go to school and return home during the week” he explained and scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. I probably sound like a loser, he thought. You thought for a little before speaking again.

“Hey, I can show you around this weekend if you want? I didn’t have anything planned anyway. Also, this is like the last weekend we can enjoy before studying for the exams. That is… if you want to, of course… I get it if you don’t-“ your rambling got interrupted by Jay’s little chuckle. Cute, he thought.

“I would like that,” he answered. You couldn’t help but smile at his acceptance of your invitation.

“This is kind of random but do you like pancakes?” you asked out of nowhere.

“Who doesn’t like pancakes?” he answered your question with another question causing you to chuckle. I already like this guy, you thought.

“Alright, then we can go to this local diner I know for breakfast tomorrow and start our little tour afterwards” you suggested while looking at him to wait for his answer.

“Alright, sounds like a plan” he concluded. Jay couldn’t help but think how much he wanted this “little tour” of yours to be an actual date.

Getting to Know Him

“Oh you should meet Mr. Bubbles” you insisted as you watched Jay take another bite of his blueberry pancakes. You wanted to introduce your fat Scottish fold to your new friend who apparently loves cats.

“I would love to…But unfortunately, I am allergic to cats” he replied, looking a little sad. You felt the need to comfort him inside you.

“Don’t be so sad! I can just show him to you through the window of my room” you suggested. You heard his small chuckle before nodding at your direction.

From this morning, you learned that Jay is not as intimidating as he looked from outside. He moved to your town from Seattle because of his father’s job. He was good at subjects like English and History but he said he could use some help with Math. His favorite genre of music was Rock and he took dance classes back in Seattle. He was interested in fashion and he liked cats. He had an easygoing personality and a pretty smile- wait, a big smile you meant.

In addition, Jay learned that you liked many more things other than studying: you enjoyed watching romantic comedies the most but one of your common interests was that both of you liked watching anime. You also liked cooking even though you were not as experimental as Jay when you entered the kitchen. Jay was stunned when he learned your favorite rock band: ONE OK ROCK because that was his favorite band too. He was surprised to find similarities between you two when you looked so different from outside. He also learned how much he liked your laugh and how hard he wanted to try to make you laugh more often to just listen to your laugh.

Not so long after, you paid the check and headed to your next destination.

“We’re going to the beach, I hope you know how to ride a bike” you chimed while walking backwards in front of Jay.

“Of course I know how to ride a bike! Who do you think I am?” he fought back right before you tripped on something and almost fell on your butt. He reached forward to catch you by your waist, saving you from both: the pain and the embarrassment of falling in front of Jay.

You both went silent when you were chest to chest. You looked up to Jay’s face while holding your breath. You looked at his eyes and he stared back at yours. You saw his eyes flicker to your lips and that was the signal you got before pulling away from his hold.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy” you mumbled looking down at your feet, continuing to walk next to Jay. He strolled next to you but he did not miss the pink shade on your cheeks before looking ahead.

***

Oh my god Y/N! Get your shit together! What is wrong with you, you just spent a single day with the guy! You told yourself that night, laying down on your bed when you came back from your day with Jay.

Okay, he was attractive, funny and nice to you. He also was a good listener and he was talkative as well. You felt comfortable spending time with him and you felt bad when you said goodbye to him in front of your house before you got in. You sighed before rubbing your eyes and tried to fall asleep without thinking about your cute, hot, funny and sweet classmate.

Study Group

You opened the gates of the coffee shop you were supposed to meet with your study mates 10 minutes later than your agreed meeting time. You hurried your way upstairs where it was more quiet than downstairs and you saw your group members sitting on a table in the left corner of the room. You apologized for being late when you reach their table and took the only empty seat next to Daniel, across from Jay.

You opened your backpack to take your materials out when you realized a cup of coffee was pushed in front of you. You looked up to see Jay grinning at you. He went back to taking notes on his notebook when you reached for the cup to take a sip from it. You realized it was a latte with unsweetened vanilla. Your usual order. He remembered your order from the coffee shop you went on your little tour right before you went to see the local art gallery. You looked at his face to see him watching your reaction. You gave him a small smile while mouthing "thank you" and he returned your smile with a little nod.

Confession

It was right before the Christmas break started when Jay came to terms with his feelings for you. Between the walks you took home together, the shared snacks between classes, the laughs shared during the lunch periods, and the times he snuck into your room to watch your favorite anime together at night when you were both supposed to be sleeping, he fell for you.

Jay was a straightforward guy. If he feels something, he might as well tell you about it. Worst case scenario: you would kindly reject him and he would move on. So he grabbed his phone from his nightstand and texted you.

You grabbed your cardigan from your closet and opened the gates of the kitchen which looked at the backyard as quiet as possible to not wake your parents up. You saw Jay putting his hands in his pockets while waiting for you in the middle of your backyard. His back was facing you so you thought you could have a little fun.

You reached him while tiptoeing silently and grabbed his waist from behind.

“BOO!” you whisper screamed. He jumped and pushed you away while you tried to hold your laugh, but failed miserably. He watched you laugh while he shook his head in disbelief.

“I knew it! You’re still scared of the ghosts” you accused him, stepping forward and putting your pointing finger on his chest. He watched you having fun with an amusing smile plastered on his face. He reached for your waist with his both hands while still looking at you with the same amused smile.

“Why do I even like you?” he muttered in disbelief. You froze. He watched your surprised expression and realized what he just blurted out.

“What?” you asked looking down at his chest because looking into his eyes was very hard at that moment. Jay took a deep breath before continuing.

“I thought I was pretty obvious” he said casually. Your heart was beating so fast that you got scared that Jay might have heard its banging on your chest. You bowed your head down and your forehead touched Jay’s chest. You were shy.

“Ilikeyoutoo” you mumbled so fast, Jay almost couldn’t catch it. Cute, he thought and you felt his lips press on your forehead. You hugged his waist while he nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck under the light of the stars.

Secrecy

Ever since you started going on dates with Jay, it was during the Christmas break. You went to cute cafes to drink hot chocolate, went ice skating, and did all the holiday activities together. One thing you didn’t talk about was how you were going to act when you got back to school. So you started sneaking around instinctively.

It was another study group meeting before the upcoming exams. You were seated between Ruby and Jay at one of the tables in your local library’s study hall when you felt Jay’s hand grabbing yours under the table. You turned to look at his face but he shrugged his shoulders like he didn’t care. You intertwined your hand with his and put them on top of your thigh. He rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand as both of you continued reading your textbooks.

When you were done with studying for History, you had to grab another book from the aisle where English textbooks were put. You got up, letting go of Jay’s hand in the process and went to the English books section. You searched through the bookshelves to find the book you needed. As you were focused on reading the names of various textbooks, you felt a small kiss pressed on the exposed skin of the back of your neck. Your breath caught in the back of your throat when you turned around to see Jay smirking at you.

“They could have seen us” you whispered to him, slapping his arm.

Not So Secretive

Jay entered the class, playing with the straps of his backpack when he saw you sitting on your seat while playing with your phone. He reached his seat to find Daniel sitting on it.

“Why are you sitting here?” questioned Jay, tilting his head to the empty seat next to you where Daniel seated every day except for that day. Daniel let a sigh before looking up at Jay.

“Don’t you want to sit next to your girlfriend?” he asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

Jay did not respond before sitting next to you. You turned your head to see who was seating next to you in surprise before he leaned forward to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek in front of your classmates.

#enhyphen #enhypen imagines #engene #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen jay #jay fluff #jay x reader #jay imagines #park jongseong #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff

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bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

ೃ word count: 3000 words

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m going to be writing for it. this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn��t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies. After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ‘College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.

Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

“EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment.

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

“I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

“Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

"I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong.

“Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!”

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something.

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

#shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren x you #snk #aot

235 notes · View notes

k-llama-llama · 3 years

Text

All Booked Up

Seventeen AU: 14th member

Rei x Seventeen

Dino comes through for Rei

Rei is not a permanent addition so if you have requests let me know…but she’s just an idea I had. She is NOT cannon with the rest of my AUs.

A/N: sorry for the delay!!….ALSO CHECK OUT MY PATREON FOR ACCESS TO EXCLUSIVE CONTENT AND EARLY ACCESS (patreon.com/kllamallama)

Requests are OPEN!!!

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

“You promise you won’t leave me this time?” Rei asked for the third time.

“Yes. I won’t leave you.” Chan rolled his eyes. “Now, go study so that I can play.”

Rei looked uncertain, but she still walked over towards the tables and started setting up her schoolwork. She’d been unsure about coming back to the gaming café since the incident where she’d had to walk home in the rain by herself. But when Chan had picked her up after school, he’d already made plans to go to the café with his friends, and she had to either come along, or make her way home on her own.

But Chan had promised not to leave her again, and she could use it as an opportunity to get some of her schoolwork done.

Sighing, she opened up her math book and got to work.

A half hour later, Chan was about to beat his high score when one of his friends decided that they should be doing something more fun.

“Do you guys want to go check out the new video game store in Gangnam?” Joon Jae asked. “I heard it’s like three levels.”

The other two agreed, but Chan winced and hit pause on his game. As fun as the store might be, he’d promised to take Rei out for frozen yogurt and then get her home before dark.

“I can’t. I have plans with Rei.” He announced. “But if you guys want to go, you can.”

“Can’t you just tell her where you’re going?” His friend asked.

“I’m not supposed to leave her alone. I can ask if she wants to come along?” He offered.

“No.” Joon Jae rolled his eyes, sitting back into his chair. “We’ll go sometime when we can all go, without the tag-along. Why do you have to bring her anyways? It’s not like she’s your sister.”

Chan didn’t say anything and just turned back to his game.

Rei had finished her math homework and was moving onto English when she felt someone approach her table. She looked up, expecting to see Chan, but instead was faced with his friend.

“Hi.” She smiled. “What’s up?”

“It’s Rei, right?” He slid into the seat across from her. “I need a favor.”

“A favor?” She tilted her head, not sure what she could do for him.”

“Yeah. Look, Chan really wants to hang out with us but he feels bad for having to bring you along. Do you think it would be alright if he went out with us, and you just went home on your own today?”

“On my own?” She protested. “But Chan and I-“

“He just…look, I didn’t want to say this, but I think he’s a little embarrassed that he has you tagging along.”

Rei felt her heart sink. “Really? He is?” Chan had seemed so much more normal today, and she’d thought he’d looked a little bit excited about going to get frozen yogurt.

But of course that’s what he’d seemed like to her. As soon as he was with his friends he’d probably told them all about how he was being forced to hang out with her.

“You guys can go. I’m going to pack up and head home.” She said quietly.

“Awesome. Thanks Rei. You’re not as bad as Chan says.” Joon Jae was up and gone before she’d even registered his words.

She didn’t waste any time putting her things back into her backpack and leaving the game café. This time, at least, she had her bus pass on her.

“Good news, bro.” Joon Jae clapped Chan on the shoulder as he sat back down. “You’re free to go to the game store with us.”

“What?” Chan hit pause again.

“Yeah, I talked to the kid and she said she’s going home on her own.” Joon Jae looked proud of himself. “So let’s go.”

“What are you talking about?” Chan turned around, realizing that Rei was no longer at her table. “What did you say to her?”

“Just that you wanted to go to the store with us, and it would be nice if she could leave you alone for a bit.”

“I told you I had plans with her.” Chan started shoving his things into his bag, trying to get ready. “Did she just leave?”

“I don’t get it, dude. Don’t you want to hang out with us? Your actual friends?”

“She’s my friend too. And I told you I had plans.” He shouldered his bag and stood. “See you guys.” He addressed the others as he rushed out of the store.

Rei was dragging her feet as she made her way towards the bus stop. There had been a closer one to the café, but she felt like moping on her walk through the park so that she didn’t start crying as soon as she got on the bus.

When she got home, she would just tell Jeonghan that she didn’t want Chan to pick her up anymore. She wondered if he’d told the other boys how much he hated hanging out with her, or if he only talked bad about her to his friends from school.

“Rei! Rei, wait up!”

She turned, finding Chan sprinting through the park. He skidded to a stop in front of her, breathing heavily.

“What are you doing?” She asked. “I thought you were going to a store with your friends.”

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” He smiled. “You were just going to bail on our frozen yogurt plans?”

She swallowed. “I didn’t want to embarrass you anymore.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head. “Embarrass me?”

“Yeah. Joon Jae said that you were embarrassed that you couldn’t go to the store because you had to hang out with me.”

“He said that-“ Chan frowned. “I’m going to kill him.”

“You don’t want to go with them?” She asked again. “I can get home on my own.”

“I want to go get frozen yogurt with you.” He promised. “Joon Jae was lying about whatever he said. I told them that I didn’t want to go with them because I already had plans. I guess he decided to just convince you to leave because he couldn’t take no for an answer.”

Rei felt herself starting to smile. “You really aren’t embarrassed to hang out with me?”

“No way.” He promised. “Besides, I’m really excited about this frozen yogurt place. You said it’s attached to a cat café?”

Rei was successfully cheered up. “Yes! So we can either eat and then pet cats, or pet cats and then eat. Which do you think is better?”

“Cats and then yogurt.” He suggested. “That way we can take our yogurt home with us.”

“Good idea.” Rei grabbed his hand. “Come on, we’re heading in the wrong direction.”

Chan took her bag from where it was sliding off her shoulder, and let her pull him through the park.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen au #seventeen 14th member #female kpop #female!kpop #female member kpop #requests open #au #kpop #imagines #imagine #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop imagine

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

UC Sunnyhell: Part five

Hello Jealousy!

Previous part // Next Part

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: College AU. Part five of eight. Spike is the campus bad boy with a secret soft heart. Spike realises something as he faces more time without you.

Warning: I think only like a little sex reference on this one.

Original request by: @sunflower-stan

Other tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @harpersmariano @artsymaddie @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard @cameo-greaves

You began to get comfortable around Spike. More so than you ever believed could be possible. He let you in more and it made you want to allow him to know you even more.

You were getting on well. It was strange and you hadn’t really been able to express it to your other group of friends but you really found yourself enjoying his company. He was sweet in a kind of gruff way. He never really showed much emotion on his face other than a scowl before now. But now you were getting to know him more, you could sense subtle changes in his demeanour.

Like how he was much more comfortable when he was at home. When he was in your company now he could almost… relax. You could both be yourselves in a way you never truly felt with anyone else.

Today you were trying something new together. You were sat in his room. A place you had never been invited before. He even opened the windows so you didn’t asphyxiate from the smoke fumes that appeared to cling to every piece of furniture.

You looked around it, smiling at the way it just screamed ‘Spike’. It was pretty dark, even with the curtains open.

You and Spike had been writing. Together. It was strange and very new but you found yourself enjoying it so much. To have a friend that understood. A friend that wanted to explore life through writing. Through words that can describe complex emotions that you would otherwise never be able to capture properly. To discuss it with him, even if you were doing most of the talking, it was so pleasant.

You would pause every so often and share little lines or swap and read through the other’s work and both be desperately nervous for the other’s approval. Neither of you need worry though, you were so entranced by the others mind. You hoped this would become a regular thing, it was special.

However there were other things clouding your mind. It was getting closer and closer to the presentation and you and Angel were out together more frequently. You were making sure to drop some good words in for Buffy here and there. You found yourself getting on quite well with him, you often found him reading while he was waiting for you. Sometimes you spoke about the book if the both of you had read it. He was a lot more sensitive than you had guessed upon first meeting.

It was actually really nice getting to know this popular frat guy, much more so than you had expected to be. You knew what Buffy saw in him. He wasn’t necessarily your type though. Although what your type was, you were still yet to realise. It still hadn’t quite clicked yet to you.

The presentation was on your mind a lot, you were still working on your confidence despite you now being a frequent performer at the open-mic nights. Luckily, you had your friends to distract you. You were sat with your group at lunch. You had all been laughing really loud. You had been laughing so hard your tummy began to ache. None of you could stop it, your humours matched. It was infectious. As soon as it began to die down, suddenly one of you caught it again and sent a wave around the rest of them.

Eventually the laughter died down as different people had different places they needed to go. The others had to go but you and Cordelia didn’t have any more classes for the rest of the day. She was going to cheer practice in an hour and you would go to the library or something when she did so you didn’t look like a complete loner (although nobody would have really been bothered if you had just been sitting alone).

Talk, as it so often did when it was you and Cordy, turned to mindless gossip. You enjoyed it usually she knew pretty much everything about everyone. But today, her sole focus was on Xander. She was complaining about how she couldn’t help that she got a lot of attention from people because she was so pretty. She like being pretty, she did it on purpose but Xander didn’t enjoy the way people would stare.

“So, why shouldn’t people appreciate me if they like the way I look?” She complained with a pout.

“I get that” You offered, nodding along. You were a good listener and Cordy liked this about you.

“Well, Xander doesn’t! Someone even looks at me and it’s like, hello jealousy, y’know?” You nodded along as you usually did, not realising how pertinent this phrase was about to be to your own life. You usually switched off from the conversation when Cordy spoke about Xander. They were so hot and cold no matter what advice you gave her she tended to do the opposite anyway. They weren’t particularly bad for each other they just got hung up on stupid stuff.

Thankfully, Cordy gave you a reprieve. She stopped the conversation, looking up with the meanest expression she could muster. You frowned, looking behind you. Revealing none other than Spike standing behind you.

He had come over to say hello to you. Bracing the cruel eyes of the canteen to get to you. You couldn’t help smiling, it brightened up his day to see you react that way at seeing him.

“Go away, you’re looking at me!” She scowled at him, trying to shoo him from your table as if he were a stray dog asking for scraps.

“Don’t worry, young dumb and full of-” Spike had started and you mimed at him pleadingly not to finish that sentence. To both yours and his surprise, he did. He cut himself off and changed tac, “-stupid thoughts… isn’t my type”

“Oh, God, why is he even speaking to me?! Shut up Spike your type is, like, anything that moves”

“Listen here you stupid bint-”

“No, you listen here you punk reject! Nobody wants you around here, look at yourself! You’re so gross”

You cringed at what they both said. Not knowing what to say yourself. You stayed silent and this was suddenly noticed by them. They looked at you for support and you groaned. This wasn’t working out. One wrong move and the other would try to cut you out of their lives. They both had reputations for being mean but they were both nicer to you than most. You wanted it to stay that way. You valued both of their friendships.

“I, uh, have somewhere to be. Please don’t rip each other to shreds” You offered, suggesting that you weren’t picking a side as you slid everything from the table and into your bag and hurried off.

After this, Spike had decided the fact that you didn’t side with Cordelia was a good sign. He so wanted to see the obvious good in you. Have you as a friend he could rely on. Share his time and his thoughts with you. His mind. Having you in his room, to himself, speaking those words he had started to want to hear more and more of.

You had been lying on your bed when he knocked on the door. It had been less forceful than his usual knock and it made you frown. Almost as if he was nervous to enter. You sat up, calling for him to come in if he wanted. He entered, with something in his hands. He stumbled over his words as soon as he stepped into your room.

“I, uh, found these… they’re really stupid. But I, uh, though you might like ‘em” He said, thrusting the plastic bag into your hands and looking away immediately. You peered into the bag, gasping in excitement.

Old movie scores. Musical numbers. Soundtracks.

Your eyes watered at the thought. To have a friend that thought about you. Wanted to make you smile.

“They were cheap” He shrugged, as if you had stopped this way because of the quality and not as how special this gesture was. How much it meant to you.

You threw yourself at him, getting overexcited in the moment and tried to hug him. He stiffened, his body completely rigid as you did. He didn’t know what to do with him self. In one sense, he was beside himself. Couldn’t shake the elation that you had wanted to hug him. On the other, he was embarrassed. Wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

He wanted to reciprocate the feeling, the warmth of the embrace, but he was still afraid that any show of vulnerability could open him to ridicule. Could make you jeer at him. His hands moved to hover over your body for a moment before they briefly contacted your skin.

You pulled away, his hands now lingering slightly now as you did. He almost felt as if he wanted to pull you back in for another hug. But… that would be absurd. Right?

“You wanna listen to them with me?!” You asked, an excited smile on your face. He couldn’t resist. He rolled his eyes but then nodded softly as you selected one to play.

Spike was sat in the shared living space. One that you both now truly shared. Spending your evenings laughing and making fun of something dumb on tv or just talking. He loved it when you leaned in to turn the set down so you and him could just talk. You had done this well into the night on several occasions.

He shouted for you from where he was sat on the sofa. He asked if you want to watch something on the box – that you can study or whatever later. He turned and saw that you were dressed up a little more than you usually would for lounging around the house. He subtly scanned his eyes along your form as he spoke.

“We goin’ to a party, love? Type with, say, free booze?” He tried his luck but you shook your head. He couldn’t help feel such acute disappointment that you had rejected it so quickly.

“No, just meeting a friend” you explain softly. You didn’t mention who it was, that you were going to have a drink with Angel and talk about your presentation. You knew how much Spike hated Angel. And you didn’t owe him an explanation about where you were going anyway. He never told you. So... why did you feel a little guilty to leave him this way?

You shrugged. Instead, you waved your goodbye with a little smile that he was beginning to find endearing.

He frowned at the idea of you leaving, something was bugging him and he couldn’t figure out what. He didn’t want you to go out and leave him lonely. He valued your friendship so much. He wanted you to come back and spend the evening with him. The way he usually pretty much always chose to stay in with you.

The feeling had been there for a while now, building up in his mind. He hadn’t even identified it until it had started to push itself to the forefront of his mind. He frowned but shrugged. Turning back to the tv for company.

It had been a few weeks since you went out for that evening and Spike had noticed you had been really busy lately. Instead of your time being his, spent in the house like you usually would, you had been out almost every day.

And, when you weren’t out, you were smiling at your phone. He caught you laughing out loud once. It made him tense his jaw. Mutter under his breath. You barely looked up to the tv anymore when you were sat together, let alone at him. Not that… he needed you to look at him, obviously. You hadn’t written together for over a week though either. You were busy messaging people he would insist he was too cool for.

It bugged him to no end though. That even in his company you would rather be talking to other people. He almost felt as if he wasn’t enough. As if you wanted to be away from him despite your insistence that he was someone you now considered a good friend.

On one rare occasion you deigned to stay in with him (an evening you had enjoyed more than any in that week because you could finally relax). It had gotten too much for him though. His annoyance that you had been using your phone so much rather than giving him attention he had started to crave. He ended up checking through your phone.

You had just left it lying there while you went into your bedroom to get something – what was he supposed to do?

He swiped it from the arm of the chair where it had been left. He opened it up and scrolled through your messages. Finding something that made his stomach drop. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

Angel. You were sat beside him but texting Angel. Sending him smiley faces and sweet replies. He tensed his jaw, a stone in the pit of his stomach. This feeling he couldn’t name weighing him down.

He had become suspicious. Of your intentions. There was a weird distance when you thought you had become friends. It made you a little upset. You didn’t know whether to broach it with him, you wanted to just enjoy your time with him.

Another evening and you were going out again. The library and then some dumb party after. Spike hadn’t caught where or he would have crashed. He knew how nervous you could get. Wanted to make sure you came back safe.

Came back to… him.

He frowned. That was a weird thought. Still, he shrugged it off and looked back towards you. He didn’t realise how much he had needed a friend. No, not just any friend. You. He couldn’t get over just how much he enjoyed having you around.

“Don’t go” He had whispered as you left, it was inaudible to you. He frowned at himself again. At the way he heard the pleading note in his voice. About how much that sentence really meant.

He refused to think about it. To delve deeper inside. To get why he had thought this. He just couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he lit up a cigarette and walked to the liquor store. He planned on taking the bottle to bed with him tonight rather than some cheap imitation of…

You frowned as you walked. Wishing you could spend time in and feel that bond you had started to become so sure of with Spike.

He drank to forget. His loneliness. The fact that he didn’t have you this evening. He found himself looking forward to every moment you would spend together. Just talking. Laughing.

Another afternoon rolled by where he had been staying in in the hopes of you being around the house too. The roles appeared to have switched since you began to get to know each other. Ever since he had found a real connection, a proper friendship, he had wanted to cling to it.

But you were now more popular than ever, having to split yourself between so many people. Because they all saw in you what he did, how kind you were. How nice it is to be in your company.

“Alright, pet?”

“Yeah, you know. Busy” You sighed. If you were honest, you would be pleased when the presentation was over. All this work you were doing, evenings and afternoons you were spending away from home. Not to say that you weren’t friends with Angel but being out so often when you were used to staying in was starting to exhaust you.

When he saw that you were going out again his face dropped. You were packing up your bag with all of the stationery you appeared to have a never-ending stock of. He was planning to ask if you were running a black-market, coloured-highlighter export on the side.

“Date?” He asked, the tone was light but his face was tense.

“Yeah like I would have time for that!” You smiled at him and he scoffed.

“Yeah, m’sure Angel would love seein’ your vast stationery collection”

“What? Is that a euphemism that my mind isn’t dirty enough to understand?” You aimed for a teasing joke but as soon as you said euphemism and assigned it to talking about Angel, he got even more tense. Launching into his petty review of Angel’s character.

“Yeah, well maybe he is popular and has somethin’ going for him but-but he has a massive forehead a-and stupid hair”

“Okay, childish. Do you want some crayons to keep yourself occupied while I’m out?”

“Don’t get smart, don’t suit you” He quipped which made you smile a little but his face was sullen. He wasn’t in a good mood with you again. And you didn’t properly understand why.

“Why don’t we write tomorrow?!” You said excitedly, “I have the entire afternoon free… maybe we can do what we did last time?” You smiled in his direction, your enthusiasm making the corners of his mouth tug into an almost-smile. But when he saw you begin to leave as you spoke, he said something else.

“Yeah if you got time in your oh so busy life”

“Offer’s there! I’ll see you later”

“Yeah, whatever” He said, slouching in his chair which made you sigh a little. You would be in a gloomy mood for the rest of the evening now that he was in a bad mood with you. You cared so much about what he thought and felt now, it was so strange.

He carried on this way for a while even though you mentioned several times you and Angel had been paired up together and were only ever working on the project. Hinting that you really wouldn’t be spending so much time out otherwise.

Angel was friendly and nice to you but the long silences were hard to navigate at times. There just wasn’t that effortlessness you had when you were with Spike. He had annoyed you a little because what with all of his commitments you had ended up doing more than your share of the workload because of his busy schedule.

Spike had began to withdraw himself from you a little. It made you sad, this man who you had been forming such a strong bond with. Exploring this supportive friendship you suddenly had. Was suddenly turning his back on you.

He wasn’t really sure why he was in such a bad mood with you. He knew you had a presentation. He had given you a bit of help when he saw how much of a workload you had on. He had also seen Angel’s name on the form next to yours so he knew the reason you were spending so much time with Angel.

However, what neither of you really understood at the time was that Spike’s insecurity was winning over. He was comparing himself to Angel because he had so much of your time. Made him feel less-than. It made him believe that you probably felt that way too.

He couldn’t help his insecurity. The way it festered in his chest. Why would you want to spend time with him when there was someone like that you got on with so well?

His snide comments and tense nature was worrying you still. He thought he had been slick but you had seen him put the phone back onto your chair as you returned to the room that evening. You weren’t so bothered, you weren’t hiding anything it just meant you put a lock on your phone when you realised.

He had asked about your day and you told him. You had mentioned Angel all of once and yet it was the only part of your day he was thinking about.

“Oh yeah, and did you and Angel have a bloody brilliant time? Did you have a right giggle and skip through the merry streets-”

“What is going on with you? Why are you being like this?” You finally confronted him, you just wanted your friend back.

“Not being anything. Just tellin’ you what’s what” He shrugged, avoiding your eye contact.

“You’ve been in a horrible mood ever since I started my project – I can’t help that I’ve got so much going on! I swear with Willow’s blood-drive and Xander’s basketball games as well as Buffy’s parties and all of my work I have no time to even think for myself!”

“Well, at least your priorities are set, right pet?” He said, this time the bite in his voice was evident. He hadn’t even made the list. He wasn’t even on your mind as someone you wanted to spend time with was all he had gotten from your sentence.

“What that I can’t be friends with you if I’m friendly with them? With Angel?” You said this pointedly, you could tell that was why he had been so weird now, “It doesn’t change the way I feel about you. Uh… about our friendship” You realised the way you had phrased it may have sounded a bit ambiguous and so you added the latter part. He just stared at you. Stopping dead.

But he hadn’t stopped because of the awkward way you covered your sentence. He stopped because those words made him want you to mean that. That you would want to be in a relationship with him.

It was like a switch turning on. Those words. He was finally understanding it.

“Yeah, well, whatever” he just shrugged, adjusting the leather duster back on his shoulders before storming away.

But the conversation you had was still swirling around his mind. He finally realises why he’s being like this.

It all made sense to him so suddenly. Hit him in the gut.

The way he had enjoyed the interactions with you, even if you had been arguing. How he had acted with you in mind, to get a reaction. Even if it was anger. The way he couldn’t take his eyes off you in the room. Positioned himself closer to you. Wanted to spend all of his time with you. Had begun waking up earlier to spend more time with you. The way your words, your writing appeared to fill up his soul. The dreams he had about you…

“Oh balls!” He muttered throwing himself down onto his bed, “I bloody love them!”

He was aching under this realisation. His heart near-beating for you. His mind always on you and what you were doing. The idea of you being with a man that wasn’t him made his skin crawl. Made his mind fog with red mist.

He wanted to hold you. To catch your lips with his. Show you exactly what you meant to him. Wanted to have you with him more, sharing your hearts and minds. God, he made himself dizzy just lying there in bed thinking about having you that way. In every way.

The day of your project suddenly came and he did say good luck for it beforehand despite all of his weird behaviour. He knew that it meant a lot to you. It went well and you and Angel were so relieved. Neither of you were the best at that sort of thing, but you were definitely getting better. Your project was finally over and you and angel remained fast friends. Also, he had a thing for Buffy too you had never been more sure of it.

Spike seemed to relax when your project was done and your friendship had continued. He hadn��t brought a one-night-stand home in almost a week and even before that there had only been one or two people you had seen recently.

You even asked if he needed medical attention for his wrist because you were sure it was being over-used. You were becoming much more comfortable talking to him about sex. You were becoming so comfortable with him in general.

He threw a cushion at you and muttered something under his breath but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t even try to make an excuse up he just turned back to the soap opera.

You glanced sideways at him, trying to figure him out. You caught glimpses but you wanted more. You wanted to ask and have him tell you about him. His past. His thoughts. But you knew better than to push him. It might make him completely close back up again.

He just gestured with his head towards the tv. To tell you to watch the soap again. You had been caught looking. You snapped your gaze away too quickly. Staring at the tv, feeling a heat rising in your cheeks. You felt something when you looked at him. You couldn’t even begin to understand.

He acted as if he was watching the tv but he wasn’t. He was sneaking glances at you when he thought you couldn’t see. Inching slightly closer in his chair so that he was nearer to you. Wishing he could reach between the space. Embrace you like you had that one time.

He was used to quick sex, one-night stands and getting them to leave straight after. But when it came to you… this was so new. This feeling – he was sure of it. He was intoxicated by you. You were in every thought. Every waking moment. And in his sleep too.

The dreams he would have. He wanted you. He really wanted you. Only you.

#UC Sunnyhell #Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike x you #Spike imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #gn #gender neutral

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