#angst and fuff

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Four

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: Hello and welcome to HELL. This is your angst warning. Angst is coming very soon. I hope this chapter makes you feel uneasy. Hahahah

Word count: 9k

Chapter Four

During the next week, you started planning. This article was all you could think about, alongside the craziness that was happening at the club. Within his first few days at Richmond, Dani Rojas was injured. It should have been simple, should have been something easily fixed– if the rumours hadn’t started. For some reason, the prospect of a ghost, of a curse, cropped up. Dani said he could feel a presence in the treatment room… something sinister. 

While he recovered, the team was on edge. You stayed in your office a lot that week, choosing to stay out of the ghost stories. But, those stories didn’t stop the guys coming to you, either. One afternoon, Isaac and Colin knocked on the door of your office. You sat up at your desk, shooting them a smile. 

“Hey, guys. You okay?” you asked. 

Both of them looked worried beyond belief. “We just wanted your guidance on something,” Colin said. 

“Yeah, bruv. We need to borrow your smarts,” Isaac added. 

“My smarts?” you let out, utterly confused. 

“What’s the first thing you’d sacrifice if you were on a football team?” Colin burst, and your face dropped. You had no fucking clue what they were talking about, nor did you want any part of it. 

“Sorry… what?” you asked. 

Isaac leaned on your desk “Like your football boots, or your shirt, or–”

“The keys to your Lambo…” Colin trailed off, zoning out as he looked at the wall behind you. It was oddly unsettling seeing the guys like this. Overly scared, zoning out, getting lost in thought. You didn’t think it was possible for any of them to be like this. Colin snapped his gaze on you quickly, and you flinched. “I’ve got it. Thank you!” he said, before he bound out of your office as fast as he’d arrived. 

Isaac stayed where he was, still thinking about his own… sacrifice? 

“Isaac, what is this about?” you asked smally. 

He didn’t say anything, but instead focused on the pen you held in your hand. You played tennis as you flashed your gaze back and forth between the pen and him, suddenly feeling self conscious of your fucking fingers. Gently, you reached out your other hand to him, and gave him a soft prod on his shoulder. 

“Isaac–?”

“I’ve got it,” he cut over you, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“I– okay. Great. Was that… all you needed?” you asked timidly. 

Isaac nodded, standing up straight. “We owe you,” he said, and you would have been flattered if you knew what the fuck they were talking about. You hadn’t done anything, other than be deeply concerned about them for the duration of their visit. “See you about, yeah?” Isaac said, making his way to your door before you could even respond fully. 

“I– yeah,” you stuttered, but he was already storming down the corridor to the locker room. You leaned back in your chair and let out a huge breath. Everyday at Richmond brought something new, something strange. You were certain these guys would give you a heart attack one day, if they kept up all this shit. 

You raked your fingers through your hair softly, trying to reset after the madness of the past few days. It wasn’t that things were too much, or too stacked on your plate, it was mostly from the shock of what came next that got to you. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if you arrived at the club tomorrow to see that everyone had switched places, or that the walls had been painted pink, or that the guys had decided to flood the pitch, purely because they ‘wanted to see what the Dogtrack would be like as a swimming pool’. 

Innately, they were almost like toddlers. You’d never been good with kids, never liked children, especially when they screamed and cried and had sticky fingers, but you were confident you’d make an excellent nanny after your year at Richmond. You shut your eyes gently, and breathed through the remainder of your disturbed peace. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and over again. 

A knock sounded from the door, and you jumped so hard that you almost fell back in your chair. “Jesus fuck–!” You sat up straight and opened your eyes immediately. Roy strolled into your office, knuckles still raised where he’d knocked on your door. “Oh, God, it’s just you.” You clutched your heart, trying to slow your sudden accelerated breathing. 

“Am I really that scary?” he asked.

You scoffed. “No, of course not,” you said, but as his question fully sunk in, you realised that Roy Kent was scary, sometimes. “Actually, yeah. You are a little bit.”

Roy growled in agreement. “I appreciate the honesty.” 

“Anyway,” you breathed out. “What’s up?” You leaned forward and smacked your hands together, peering up at where he stood opposite you. 

“Just wondering when we were going to get this interview done. The one for your article,” he said. You didn’t notice the subtle way his fists balled together until his knuckles went white. 

“Oh, right,” you said. “Well, how about tonight?” 

“I can’t tonight. I’ve gotta be here for a fucking cleansing,” Roy explained. 

“A cleansing? Is this about the treatment room ghosts?” you asked. Roy nodded, obviously annoyed as fuck about the entire ordeal. “What the fuck is a cleansing, anyway?”

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” Roy said, you could understand why. 

You raised your hands in understanding. “My lips are sealed, sorry. What about tomorrow, then? I just thought we’d go to the pub, or something. It’s not a formal interview, Roy.” 

“I can do tomorrow, just not at the fucking pub,” he said. 

“Why not?”

“Do I really have to fucking spell out why going to a Richmond pub, as a Richmond player, is a bad fucking idea?” he said. 

You winced. “You’re right, I didn’t think of that. Is there somewhere that would work better?”

Roy clenched his jaw. You saw the way the muscles tensed, matching the intense posture he constantly upheld. You were certain that Roy would be able to walk through a concrete wall if he tried. The constant puff-out of his chest, the strength in his stance, the bluntness of his stares. For someone so hard on the outside, both in how he looked and acted, you felt almost special when you thought about all the good that he’d done for you. 

Roy Kent was soft around the edges, but he didn’t show it often. 

“We could go to my gaff?” he offered, and your heart jolted in your chest. 

At work, you often had one on one conversations with Roy, but the prospect of being alone outside of work was something that made your walls erect again. The same ones that had after the charity ball, the same ones that stopped you from having a drink with him last time. 

In your mind, you told yourself to get the fuck over it. You were only human, and God forbid, you had a little crush. No one would blame you, especially with it being Roy. Crushes didn’t hurt anyone, or anything. Crushes existed to you as a bit of fun. That was all. Nothing would come of this. 

“That works, too,” you agreed, finally. “Like I said, I don’t want it to be a formal thing.” 

“Great, ‘cause I’ve got a fridge full of beer that needs to be fucking drank.” 

You huffed, amused. “It’ll be hard, but I’m willing to help make a dent in that,” you said, dropping your expression in a false display of hardship.

Roy hummed lowly. “Your sacrifice won’t go unnoticed.” 

You bowed your head at him jokingly. “Thank you, Sir.”

A small smile curled onto Roy’s face, one that you kept a secret tally of in your head. Whenever you got him to laugh, to smile, to do anything that deviated from his typical stoicism, you made a note of it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, the hint of that smile still on his face. 

You smiled back, fiddling with your pen nervously. “See you tomorrow, Roy.”

He nodded, then he was gone. With his leave, your heart did the exact same thing– it launched itself into your throat, its incessant dump-dump getting more erratic by the second. It took you a little over two months, but you were finally going to see the inside of Roy Kent’s big, fuck off house. And, as much as you felt silly and childish, you actually couldn’t fucking wait. 

At the end of the following day, Roy stuck his head around your door again. You were half expecting it, though, as you assumed Roy would put two and two together about it being efficient to drive you both to his that evening. 

“Ready to go?” he asked, and you stood up from your chair.

“Yeah,” you nodded, slinging your bag over your shoulder and switching off the lights when you both left.

The drive felt familiar. It was equal levels of comfortable silence and awkward glances— mostly on Roy’s part. Occasionally, he sent you a side-eyed glance from the driver’s seat, tapping his fingers on the wheel to break apart the tension that rattled behind the windshield.

Even Roy had no idea why things felt more intimate all of a sudden, so you definitely weren’t suffering alone. You were determined to stay cool; it was just a small crush after all. Nothing earth shattering, nothing life changing. In fact, putting it that way had actually eased you slightly. You weren’t focusing on it as being something deep, it was just something fun— and something that would never come to fruition, anyway. 

Roy was a professional footballer, and he boiled your blood far too often. You were nothing more than an annoying, MA student who had the means to push his buttons. Sure, you gelled well, and had great conversations sometimes, and were able to make the other laugh, but that didn’t mean anything. Not really. Right?

You frowned a little, looking out the window as Roy turned down your street. You thought about his jacket, still on the peg by your front door.

“Wait,” you said abruptly. “Would you mind dropping me home first? There’s something I need to pick up.” 

Roy perked a brow at you slyly, but nodded in agreement. “Sure.” 

He pulled up his Jeep to the curb and you jumped out. You held the door open for a moment. “I’ll walk to yours. I’ll just be a few minutes.” 

Roy nodded, and you slammed the car door shut. He drove off before you entered your building, shooting you a subtle glance before he put his foot on the accelerator. When you got inside, you fumbled with your belongings. You’d written down questions on your laptop and knew what you wanted to ask him, but you knew that actually asking them in person would be the hard part.

You took a few moments to freshen up, running a brush through your tangled hair and checking your face after a long day at the Dogtrack, before you repacked your bag and headed for the door. On the peg just before it was Roy’s jacket. You picked it up and draped it over your arm, before you finally set off for Roy’s house around the corner.

Roy knew he had ten minutes, max, before you arrived. Due to the cleansing last night, he hadn’t had time to tidy at all. He didn’t live like an animal by any means, but the piles of fresh laundry on the dining table, the resistance bands on his sofa and the three empty beer bottles from earlier in the week on the counter, were not up to his standard for you. Quickly, he waltzed around his house and cleared up his messes. He didn’t know what was going to come from tonight, or what questions you’d ask him, but he had to admit— he was glad that another time was finally happening.

Having you around constantly at work after the charity ball had him going through the motions. He often flashed back to when he’d abruptly asked you in for a drink, and cringed at your response far too many times. He was a grown man, but things like that still made him feel like a teenager, getting rejected at school. It was stupid, and he knew it, but that didn’t stop his mind from reeling about it all still.

But, at the end of the day, both of you knew one thing— neither of you had fucking expected to like the other, or get along at all, in fact. That was enough to bring out the question— what if? Both of you had thought about it enough to want to see where it could go.

You knocked on Roy’s front door abruptly, and he sauntered through his hallway towards you. Upon entering his house, you tried to keep your giddiness to a minimum. He already knew what you thought of his place, from your drunken honesty and shocked reaction after the charity ball. 

Now that you were up close, you saw more of what made Roy… well, Roy. There were clippings from newspapers, dating back as far as 2002, in a huge photo album on the bottom shelf of his dining room bookshelf. Awards and trophies adorned the other levels, alongside homemade cards from someone called Phoebe. 

Roy let you silently take it all in. You clutched your bag on your shoulder with white knuckles, his jacket flush to your side, overwhelmed by all that you were seeing. He cleared his throat from the kitchen, peering over at you. “Drink?” 

“Oh,” you let out, startled. “Yes, please.” You turned back to the shelf, amazed. “Roy, this is— this is all—”

“It’s all crap,” Roy cut over you, opening the fridge. You turned around to see it full of green beer bottles. He hadn’t been wrong when he said fridge full of beers. He placed two on the kitchen counter and popped the tops off both.

“It’s not crap. They’re lovely memories,” you protested. “I mean, you displayed them here for a reason, didn’t you?” 

Roy strolled over to where you stood and casually handed you a beer. You took it gratefully, taking a gulp, as the two of you scanned his full-to-bursting shelves together.

You pointed to the abundance of homemade cards. “Who’s Phoebe?” 

“My niece,” Roy said.

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” you said.

Roy hummed. “Got a little sister.”

Somewhere within you, it all made sense. You were amongst the population that knew it was a green flag when a man had sisters, it was just plain true. Roy was no exception to that rule, and his behaviour slotted into place as a man who understood what it took to be an older brother to a sister. 

“How old is Phoebe?” 

Roy sent you a softened look. “She’s six.”

You hated to admit it, but your heart melted ever so slightly. You smiled at him genuinely. “How sweet.” 

“She is sweet,” Roy said, with a distinct genteness to his tone that you’d never heard before. “But, she’s also fucking insane. In the best way.” 

“I bet she loves you,” you said, as the two of you took another gulp of beer together.

Roy let out a refreshing ahhh afterwards, to which he followed with “Yeah, she does. I don’t get it.” 

“I do,” you let out abruptly. When Roy caught your eye, you panicked. You sent him a hastily sweet smile, before you turned to the rest of the open-plan room. 

“So… shall we start?” Roy asked, trying to diffuse the tension.

“We already have,” you said. You prodded a finger to your temple. “It’s being recorded up here.” 

Roy growled. “What happens when you run out of room?” 

“That’s what the laptop is for,” you said, shrugging your bag off your arm and placing it on the dining table. You slotted his jacket beneath it, leaving it there like an afterthought. 

Roy pulled out the chair opposite you and sat down, sipping on his beer as you got yourself sorted. You opened up your laptop and sorted through your notes, until you found the questions you’d written previously. 

You cleared your throat, placing your palms down on the table. “Ready?”

“I thought we’d already fucking started,” Roy said, and you huffed to yourself.

“Tell me your superhero origin story, go on,” you said, before you shifted and placed your chin in your hand. You leaned casually on the tabletop, peering at Roy with your full attention. 

Roy cleared his throat awkwardly, tapping his short-cut nails against his beer bottle. “I was scouted for Sunderland when I was nine years old…” he began.

He didn’t stop until all daylight disappeared from outside. An hour into his story, you had to start typing on your laptop. It didn’t detract from the mood at all, not when you and Roy bounced off each other so effortlessly. He’d say something specific about football, something that you had no fucking clue about, and you’d say something like Oh, yeah. I know exactly what that is. It made the air shift comfortably, and gave Roy a moment to catch his breath and smile before he continued on. 

It didn’t feel like an interview, and that’s exactly what you wanted. You weren’t a journalist, weren’t looking to join this writing sector, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to write about Roy Kent. You’d meant what you’d said to Keeley before, about his illustrious career, about how heart-warming his full story really was. Every word he said you ate up, joining in with the laughter, staying silent during the sensitive topics, and listening intently all the way through. 

When he was done, he let out a deep sigh. You both sat back in your chairs, finishing your beers. You’d lost count of how many times you’d gone to the fridge for more– maybe three or four times– but the buzz was pleasant for both of you. A golden glow was cast over Roy’s house, coming from a few lamps placed throughout the living and dining room. It felt warm. It felt safe. That’s exactly what you’d wanted him to feel when he opened up to you fully. 

This time, Roy travelled to the kitchen for refills, but he didn’t go to the fridge. He opened one of his kitchen cabinets, and grabbed two glasses that clinked together melodiously. From a cart in the dining room, he picked up a half full bottle of single malt whiskey. He placed the glasses on the table between you, popped the cork from the whiskey, and poured a little in each glass. When he sat again, he picked up the glass nearest him. You followed suit, picking up your own. 

You clinked your glasses together, both taking a small sip afterwards, before an even more comfortable silence settled over the room around you. You peered at him then, as he swallowed back his whiskey. The liquid slinked down your own throat hotly, warming you from the inside, out. 

“Why?” you asked quietly, and Roy caught your eye gently. 

“Why what?”

“Why football?” you said, shrugging. “You could have done anything, but you did this. Why?”

Roy exhaled through his nose, before he leaned forward on his elbows. The gap between you closed gently, until both of you were leaning on the smooth wood of his dining table, close enough that you could reach out and touch his face if you wanted to. 

“Tell me in a way that my fickle, anti-football brain will understand,” you added, and Roy huffed softly.

“From your perspective, you think football is just a game,” Roy started softly. You’d never heard his voice this clear, this gentle. “But, it’s not for me. It’s my whole life. It’s all I’ve ever done.” He tapped his glass with his fingertips, letting out a soft clink across the table at you. “Do you know why I didn’t fill out your worksheet, the one from when you first started at the club?” 

You shook your head gently, not taking your eyes off the thoughtful look that graced Roy’s face. You felt then just how vulnerable he was being– this wasn’t what Roy Kent did. He was stoic, he was blunt, but that didn’t stop him from having his own secrets, his own insecurities. 

Roy sucked in a breath. “The last question on it– What do you want from your career in the future? I couldn’t answer it, because the future for me is different to the other lads. I’m coming to the inevitable end of my career, slowing down, and they’re just getting started.” You sucked in a breath, going to protest, but Roy shook his head before you could. “Don’t tell me I’m talking rubbish. This is how it fucking goes, you know? I’m not the same player I used to be, and… it’s all going to end soon. One day I’ll wake up, and without knowing, it’ll be the last day I ever play football.”

You let his words settle over you. You didn’t know what he was feeling at all, would never understand the extent of his pain or troubles, but that didn’t stop you from having a different perspective. As an objective third party, you could see what he couldn’t. Maybe that was good, just this once. 

“I can’t begin to imagine what that’ll feel like, Roy,” you said softly. “But just because you won’t be on the pitch, doesn’t mean there won’t be something new waiting for you.” Roy raised his brows at you softly, in waiting. He was listening, he was all ears. “I know fuck all about football, but– I know about you. You won’t just fall off the edge of the world.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, swallowing back some of his anxiety. 

“I know because of all the fucking trophies on that shelf,” you said, gesturing to the shelf behind him. “I know because, when you run onto the pitch, all those fans scream that chant, just for you.” You let out an abrupt laugh, trying to convey just how amazed you were. “For fucks sake, Roy, you played in the World Cup in 2014, for fucking England. You were the same age as me then, you know.”

“A year older,” he corrected you. “I was twenty-nine.”

“Yeah, and I’m twenty-eight and only just doing my masters, working at a football club when I don’t know anything about football, with the athletic ability of a fucking teaspoon.”

Roy smiled at the table immediately. It was the kind of smile that took up his whole face, one that made his eyes squint and glint.

“What I mean is,” you continued, leaning a bit closer to him. Roy peered up at you again, his eyes glassy. “You’re a legend, Roy. And, even though I’ve been part of this world for no time at all, I know that very well. It was the first thing I learned, and will probably be the only thing that I’ll remember about the game after my year is up.” 

“Not true,” Roy said abruptly, taking another sip of his whiskey. “The first thing you learned was that I’m not the fucking caretaker.” He smiled, and after your heart stopped racing as fast, you smiled back. 

The atmosphere transitioned back to something more playful, but the underlying warmth of your prior conversation didn’t go away at all. It settled into every word that you and Roy shared, every small huff of air that you blew out from amusement, every sigh you let out to catch your breath. When your whiskeys were done, you caught a glance of the time on your laptop– it was almost midnight. You’d spent hours in each other's company, just talking, and it had gone by in mere minutes. 

“So,” Roy let out, and his tone got under your skin immediately. Maybe it was the booze, or the darkness outside, but when he caught your eye this time you felt like a deer in headlights. “Did you have any more questions?” 

You skimmed your laptop, but you knew you’d already asked everything you’d wanted to. It was just for show, just so that he’d think you had more to give. You didn’t want it to end just yet, not when the tension between you was inescapable. It was just a crush. It was just a crush. 

“One more,” you lied. You smiled at him playfully, before you gently started circling your finger on the rim of your glass. “You’re a professional footballer,” you stated, amused. 

“No fucking shit,” he replied. 

You huffed gently. “This is off the record, and just because I’m curious, and you do not have to answer it if you don’t–”

“You want to know how many famous people I’ve slept with,” he interrupted you. You froze, and your cheeks immediately warmed. He’d worked you the fuck out. 

“Just– an estimate.” Your voice was high pitched when it left your mouth. 

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Roy said, matching your amusement. 

Your expression flattened. “A few weeks ago you announced to the locker room that you’d slept with four of the Spice Girls, Roy,” you said plainly, and Roy sat up straight defensively. 

“Only because Tartt was fucking boasting and someone needed to shut him up!”

“Was it Posh Spice?” you asked. 

“What?”

“The one you didn’t sleep with, was it Posh Spice?”

“Fuck no,” he said immediately. After a beat, he added, “It was Ginger.” 

Your eyes widened at his response, but your laughter overtook you faster. You leaned back in your chair and burst with unavoidable chuckles, the kind that you felt in your belly, the ones that felt impossible to stop. Only when they started to settle did you sit up again, only to discover an utterly new look on Roy’s face. His features were soft and his jaw settled. There was a tiny smile on his lips, but not enough to show off his teeth, or to take up the entirety of his face. His eyes roamed your features gently, until you were certain you’d landed upon a name for his expression–

Affection. Roy was looking at you affectionately. 

You let out a final soft chuckle. “You’re fucking amazing,” you let out. 

Roy raised his brows, chuffed at your genuinity. “Is that why you wanted to write about me?”

You settled. “Yes,” you said, affectionately. It just sort of… fell out of your mouth. One word that was an exact copy of the look he was giving you. 

Electricity buzzed between you, enough to startle you innately. You glanced at the time on your laptop again– past midnight. You hated it, but you feared that time was up. You’d got all you’d needed, and you didn’t want to take up more of Roy’s time, despite the feeling that he had no desire to be done with the conversation. 

Roy’s eyes flicked back and forth between your own, frantically, like he couldn’t settle. He was on edge, he was buzzing, and he had no intention to break his focus from you. He knew it would come to an end though, when you inevitably mentioned the time and made another joke about being old at heart. He thought back to the night of the charity ball, then, when you unintentionally spent the entire evening together. When you’d walked off to the bathroom, he and Jamie had attempted to find a middle ground at the bar. All the while, his eyes had constantly flicked back and forth between the beer in his hands, and the direction that you’d walked. He’d only moved away from the bar for a moment, but when he’d returned to find it utterly empty, he knew you’d decided to leave. He couldn’t understand it then, but annoyance had struck him in the heart– you hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye, hadn’t even tried to find him again to send him an awkward wave before you walked home. That’s what led Roy to leave, himself. He took a final scan of the vast room, before he stuck his hands in his pockets and headed for the exit. When he emerged into the cold Richmond air, you were standing at the bottom of the steps, shaking subtly, as you tried (and failed) to find directions home, using Google Maps on your phone. It was an innate feeling that had him descending the steps and taking off his jacket, only to drape it over your bare shoulders. The same innate feeling hit him when you stood outside his house. It made him invite you in for a drink, but the look on your face had shown him everything– it was going to be a no, and that was the moment that had cemented who you were to him. Sensible. Smart. Holding yourself back. 

Roy had held himself back from things his entire life, but he didn’t want to do it anymore. He wanted to answer your questions genuinely and open himself up to being judged by others– by you, sat opposite him, looking into his eyes like you were trying to find something, anything, to talk yourself out of having another drink with him. 

“What about you?” Roy said suddenly, taking you– and himself– by surprise. 

You tilted your head at him. “What about me?”

“No, no, don’t be fucking coy,” Roy said, leaning back in his chair comfortably. “I told you my life story, now it’s your turn to tell me yours.”

You scoffed abruptly, trying to ignore the warmth that radiated on your cheeks. “Fuck no. We’d be here all night, and you definitely wouldn’t look at me the same way.”

“That’s the whole fucking point,” Roy said. “I want to look at you differently, the way that you’re looking at me right fucking now,” he said, gesturing to the affectionate and bashful expression on your face. 

He was right, you did know a lot more about him, and he knew fuck all about you. You felt mysterious for the first time in your entire life. There was a spark that glistened in your eye, one that was playful and ready to fall headfirst into this entire ordeal. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to open up to Roy– you did, oh man, you did– but you didn’t feel that now was the right time. Not after he’d just spilled his guts to you. 

Roy gently leaned forward again, sliding his arms out in front of him, until his hands were close enough to touch your own. “What have you got to lose?” he asked.

A fist-full of answers bombarded your skull. Nothing. Everything. You. Myself. All of the above. 

But the one you settled on, over all the rest, was the best one for you then. All the other words tried and failed to bounce over the wall that you’d built previously. You gently skimmed your fingers over Roy’s knuckles, trying to be playful. Touching Roy’s skin made your entire arm buzz with adrenaline. It shot up through your fingers and reverberated through your arm, until you got the shivers suddenly. You played it off as nothing. 

“Sleep. I’ve got sleep to lose,” you said. 

Roy’s hand twitched on the table, and for a second you thought he was going to reach out and take your hand in his. After your words hit him, however, he settled on retracting his hands back into his lap, and leaned back in his chair once more. He smiled at you in recognition, but you knew you’d just done it again– said no, when it was fucking obvious to both of you that you’d wanted to say yes. 

“Past ten-thirty, is it?” he said gently.

“Way past,” you confirmed, but the words felt sour in your mouth. 

Roy huffed to himself, but he didn’t come across like he was in any way annoyed. He shouldn’t be, you were perfectly within your right to call it a night, but you still felt guilty about it. Maybe that was a sign that you should stay. 

“Another time,” Roy said before you could. 

You smiled at him. “Another time.”

“I mean it,” he added, his voice transforming into something stern and dominating. “Otherwise we’re not fucking even.” 

You nodded, faking seriousness, despite the playful smile on your lips. “Everyone knows that not being even is illegal.” 

“Exactly.” Roy nodded. 

The conversation had reached its end. As you packed your belongings, Roy picked up the glasses and bottles from the table and took them to the kitchen. Quickly, he washed the two whiskey glasses in the sink, while you shuffled your bag into your shoulder. Left beneath it on the table was Roy’s jacket. You stared at it sharply, forgetting that you’d even brought it with you. 

Quickly, without fucking thinking, you picked it up and abruptly stuffed it into your bag. You shoved it between your laptop and a notebook, before you turned around to find that Roy was already looking at you. 

“You okay?” he asked, noticing the subtle panic on your face. 

You nodded. “Just checking I have everything.” 

Roy walked you to his front door. He was a few paces behind you the entire time, only looming over you when he reached forward to pull the latch on his solid wood door. He tugged it open, and you slotted yourself underneath the frame, before you turned around to face him. 

You peered up at him, meeting his eye without any hesitation. You let out a content sigh. “Thank you for doing this,” you said, and you really fucking meant it. 

“No problem,” he said gently. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m done with the article.”

Roy nodded in response, keeping his expression the same. You thought he’d say something smart, something that would make you chuckle or giggle, something that would make your cheeks warm violently once more, but he simply stayed silent as his eyes continued to skim over the features of your face. 

“Goodnight,” you said first, knowing it was best not to linger– even though you wanted to; even though Roy wanted you to. 

“Goodnight,” Roy said after, but neither of you moved a muscle. You didn’t step back and leave his front door step, nor did he step back and make an indication of closing his front door. 

Instead, Roy stepped forward. You froze as he leant down and placed a small peck on your cheek, one that was over just as soon as it had fucking began. For a split second, you felt the scratch of his beard and the warmth of his skin, and then it was gone. You smiled, and then, just like his kiss, you were gone.

On the walk home, you clutched your bag fiercely. Roy’s jacket felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric, but you didn’t fucking care. You weren’t ready to give it up yet, especially not when the prospect of another another time had cropped up once more. You tried not to think, but absolutely failed. Words scrambled in your head painfully, bashing the base of your skull and bumping into the plush walls of your brain. There was one word that screeched above all else, and it was only getting louder–

Him, him, him, him, him. 

On Monday, Jamie Tartt was gone. It was a shame, considering his abrupt change of heart at the so-called cleansing the previous week, and the fact that Ted had finally managed to get through to him in a way. In fact, Ted was seething. You didn’t think that Lasso had an angry bone in his body before the news dropped, but when he sullenly returned from Rebecca’s office, he took down Tartt’s football shirt from his cubby sadly. 

You leaned against the door to the manager’s office, shooting a sunken face at Ted as he gently pushed past you. 

“Well,” you said, turning around to face him. “This is shit.”

“That is a mighty fine way to put it,” Ted said, as he dropped Tartt’s shirt on his desk. “Man City recalled him. Guess they didn’t like the fact I put him on the bench.” 

You shrugged. “It’s a shame…. but, alternatively, now he’s Pep’s problem again.”

Ted, Beard and Nate all shot their stares to you instantly. You frowned at them, feeling uncomfortable suddenly. “What?” 

“You said something about football that was actually correct,” Beard said, gobsmacked.

You huffed, annoyed. “Come off it. I know a lot more about football now!” 

“About another team, even,” Nate said. “That’s impressive.” 

“Come on, guys. Leave her alone,” Ted said, stepping forward. “She still knows more about this sport than me.” 

You winced. “I know a lot more than I once did, Ted, but it’s still not a huge amount.” 

Tes shrugged. “That’s why I’ve got you guys!” He happily smiled around the room, looking at Beard and Nate in turn. You let out a scoff, before you sent them all a wave goodbye and headed back to your office. 

You had a day full of writing ahead of you, and you simply couldn’t wait.

As the weeks went by, you slept less and less. It got so bad that you’d often find yourself still awake when the sun was beginning to rise. Writing was all you could do. Alongside your assignments, you were dedicated to Roy’s article, spending any free time you had to yourself on it, and abandoning your usual self care and comfort.

The guys were scared of you, slightly. You were snappy and sleep deprived, with a one track mind that they couldn’t understand. Even Roy found himself concerned enough to eventually check up on you, which was a task for him, too.

He often thought back to a few weeks before, when you and he had chatted for hours about his life. You’d sat at his table, drank his beer, shared a whiskey with him— and then you’d left again. When you’d entered his house, he spotted his jacket on your arm, but as the night went on, both of you had forgotten about its inevitable return. Before you took your leave, Roy witnessed you shoving it back into your bag. He hadn’t said anything. He’d found it funny and endearing, and he had to admit to himself that he’d looked at you with the most affection he could muster at that moment. Not that you knew, not that he wanted you to, but Roy Kent had a definite soft spot for you. 

That was why he agreed to the article in the first place, after all. 

When he finally plucked up the strength to check on you, he found you at your desk— fast asleep. Your laptop was open in front of where you’d leaned your cheek down upon the wood, papers sprawled everywhere. There was an almost uncomfortable look on your face, like your subconscious knew that you should be awake and writing, yet it had finally overtaken you. 

He peered down at you softly, and balled his fists to stop himself from sitting down opposite you to gently push a few strands of hair from your face. He knew he should leave, but he also knew you’d get mad if you knew he’d seen you this way and not woken you. Slowly, softly, Roy leant down and gently poked a finger to your cheek. He did it a few times, whispering wake up, until you finally stirred. Anyone else in this fucking club and he would have yelled from the get-go, but you were different; he didn’t want to startle you. 

You came around finally, and flinched as soon as you opened your eyes. Seeing Roy’s face after an intense nap wasn’t something you were used to at all. You let out a visceral “Jesus fucking Christ!” 

Roy only perked his brow at you. “Dreaming about unicorns and rainbows, were you?” 

You rubbed your eyes tiredly, and stopped yourself from sleepily scratching them out of their sockets. “I wish.” Roy growled questioningly, wanting you to go on. You sighed. “I wasn’t dreaming about anything. Sorry to disappoint,” you said, peering up at him grumpily. It was your own fault that you felt so bad, you knew, but you’d been short with everyone for the last week because of it.

“Not to state the obvious, but you look fucking awful,” Roy said, to which you scoffed abruptly.

“Thanks for that,” you let out. 

“What the hell is up? Has something happened?” he asked, crossing his arms at you with stern concern. 

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “There just aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything, or to stay awake for.” 

“Is this about the article?” Roy asked.

You guiltily peered up at him. “I just— can’t stop writing. It feels like I’ll fucking die if I spend a single minute away from it.” 

“You’re not gonna die by taking a break, but you will die from sleep deprivation. That’ll turn you fucking mental,” Roy said. 

You yawned— hugely. “I know, I know,” you said, before you settled. You allowed yourself to smile at him. “I’m almost done, actually. I’m so close.” 

Roy huffed. “Good. Take a fucking break then.” 

“I will, just not—,”

“Come to Liverpool with us, for the Everton game,” he said suddenly. “I know the lads want you with us, and it’ll give you time to calm the fuck down.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but you stopped when you actually thought about it. The Everton game was four days away, which meant you had three to finish the article completely, before you submitted it. You could do that. That was doable. 

“Well, I mean,” you started, before you finally shrugged. “I have been wanting to go to more away games. And, if the guys want it, then I definitely want to show my support.” You smiled at Roy with a finality. 

He nodded in approval and uncrossed his arms. “Okay,” he said softly. 

For a moment, the two of you looked at each other thoughtfully. Perhaps your minds were bombarding you both with flashbacks from a few weeks ago, when you’d both said goodbye at his door when it was obvious that neither of you had wanted to. Since then, due to how much work you had to fucking do, you hadn’t thought much of it. But at night, before bed, your mind often wandered. Roy’s face popping into your head had almost become normal, especially with the added security of his jacket still on the peg by your door. You called yourself silly for taking it back, but you still hadn’t returned it since that fumble. 

Roy cleared his throat abruptly, pulling both of you out of your thoughts. You sucked in a sharp breath and smiled at him, trying to cover up how loud your thoughts about him actually were. He did the same, inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, until the moment had dissipated. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Roy said, breaking the silence. 

You huffed affectionately. “Thank you.”

Rod nodded, before he headed to the door and left. You leaned back in your chair when you were alone, stretching your arms above your head to get some feeling back into them after your nap. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, noticing the cracks in the cinder block bricks and the awful paint job, but it was only to distract you from thinking about Roy. 

Roy, who was definitely a gentleman in disguise. Roy, whose jacket you had on a peg in your flat. Roy, who wanted you around him and his team. Roy fucking Kent. Writing the article didn’t make your crush on him any easier, but only perpetuated your feelings to oblivion. 

A few days later, while you laid in bed at God knew what time, your heart swelled to a thousand times the size of normal. You’d just written the final sentence, just tweaked the final edits, and your article was finally done. In a frenzy, you opened the Independent’s website and immediately went to submit it, but you stopped yourself before you could. Somewhere within you, you knew that you needed Roy to read it before you could, otherwise it wouldn’t be fair. With one more day until travelling to Everton, you knew it wasn’t the best time at all. You’d tell him after the match that you were done, and as soon as he read it, you’d submit it if he was happy. 

You went to sleep elated and buzzed, but still managed to drag yourself to work the following morning. You clutched your laptop to your chest as if it were a fucking child, trying not to scare yourself into thinking that Roy would hate what you’d written about him. As you entered your office, you found Keeley sat at your desk. You flinched in surprise as you turned the corner, but that surprise very quickly turned into a smile at her presence. 

“Hey babe!” Keeley said, jumping up from your chair and rounding your desk quickly. She picked up one of two coffee cups from the desktop and handed it to you. “I brought you coffee.”

You took it from her, but you weren’t dumb. Keeley was here for something, and you didn’t know what. “Alright– what do you want?” you said, shooting her a playful look. 

Keeley let you settle behind your desk, as she started pacing the space of your office. You dropped your laptop down and sat in your chair heavily, trying not to show just how tired you were. 

“Well, I know you’re coming to Liverpool with us tomorrow, but I had a feeling that you might be done with your article…” 

You rolled your eyes at her, tapping the lid of your coffee cup. “You want to read it, don’t you?”

Keeley lunged at your desk, shooting herself forward so your noses almost touched. “Of course, I do! After reading what you wrote about Rebecca last time, I’ve been dying to read more of your stuff.”

You opened your laptop up, smiling to yourself as you clicked onto the article. It was already loaded on the Independent's website, you just hadn’t sent it off. “I could do with someone looking at it, actually. I… I don’t know if I’m going to submit it.”

“Why?” Keeley said, taking a seat on your desk before you. 

You peered up at her, furrowing your brows. “I don’t know if it’s good enough.” 

“Well,” Keeley said, quickly spinning the laptop in her direction. “I’ll be happy to sing your praises after I read it.” 

You smiled at her smally, grateful to have her in your life. “Speaking of Rebecca, I actually have a meeting with her this morning,” you said, as you stood. “Happy reading!” you added, and Keeley practically jumped back into your chair as you left. 

You walked to Rebecca’s office slowly, breathing through the immense grogginess that you felt. You drank Keeley’s coffee in record time, but the caffeine wasn’t enough on its own. You knew you should go home to rest, but you didn’t want to when all that you were feeling was self-inflicted. You could sleep early when you got home, and on the bus up to Liverpool in the morning. You’d live. 

You knocked on the door to Rebecca’s office a minute later, and let yourself in when she mumbled it was okay to do so. “Oh, good morning, darling,” she said, waving you inside as you shut the door behind you. She stopped smiling when she got a proper look at you. “Fucking hell, what’s wrong with you?” 

You laughed tiredly. “Good morning to you, too,” you croaked. “I’m just… a little tired.”

“I can see that,” she said, looking at you up and down with concern. She stood abruptly and whisked herself over to her bar cart, while you swayed on the spot in front of her desk. “Sit,” she instructed you, pointing at you sternly, before she went back to her plan. You did as you were told. 

Rebecca popped a coffee pod into the top of her Nespresso machine and placed a cup beneath the spout. When she clicked a button the machine started to thrum, before a boiling hot and aromatic stream of coffee was produced. When it was done, Rebecca placed the espresso in your hands and perched back onto her desk. She peered down at you the way a mother would sternly tell off her child. 

“Why do you look like you haven’t slept in days?”

“Because I haven’t slept in days,” you replied, subtly huffing at your own joke. Rebecca shot daggers at you. “Sorry. It’s just this article for the competition.”

“The one about Roy?” she asked. 

You nodded. “I finished it last night, actually, so I won’t be like this for much longer, don’t worry.” You took a trepidatious sip of coffee, but as it slinked down your throat you felt your heart buzz with electricity. It was both invigorating and incredibly anxiety inducing. 

“Congratulations,” Rebecca said, and her expression changed to something softer. “Have you sent it off yet?”

“No,” you said lowly. “I don’t think I will for a bit longer.”

“Why?”

You winced. You knew that if you were to tell Rebecca and Keeley the reason for you not sending it off, that they’d only yell at you to get over it. Roy agreed to this from the start, so surely he was fine with you actually submitting it. “It’s just that I want Roy to read it before I do, is all.” 

Rebecca let out an abrupt cackle, so loud that it startled you. Your espresso wobbled in your hand. “Oh, please. Roy wouldn’t know a good article if it reached out and punched him in the face. Nor would he care.” 

Rebecca was right, even if it hurt for her to say it. “I know, I know. It’s just that it’s about him, and I don’t want him to hate what I’ve written.”

“Of course, he’s going to hate it,” Rebecca said immediately, and your face soured. “And that’s no reflection on you, darling, it’s all on him. I think you should submit it, just get it over with.” 

You let out a sigh. As much as you knew she was right, you wanted to believe that Roy cared about what you’d written. You felt you’d done him justice, that you’d written about what actually mattered in his life, but there was always an element of the unknown when you wrote about someone else. Would they like it? Would they think it was shit? All those same questions cropped up at you with Roy Kent as the subject, and you knew that you’d find out what he thought of it one way or another– whether that was when he read it on your laptop, or in the paper. 

But still, you respected him. This wasn’t just a one woman job, this wasn’t just about you, this was about him, too. And despite understanding every reason that was laid out in front of you, you still wanted approval from him before you sent it off. That was the end of it. 

You took another sip of espresso, and Rebecca sent you a raised brow stare. There was some playfulness behind it, some giddiness that made you both look and feel like schoolgirls again. Rebecca moved to sit opposite you, picking up her tea and sipping upon it to match you. You caught eyes with her, immediately understanding what she was saying to you telepathically. 

Something is happening between you and him, isn’t it?

You finished your espresso, while Rebecca placed her cup down on its saucer again. She leaned her chin on her knuckles as you sorted yourself out opposite her. You shuffled in your chair and sat back comfortably, and when you looked up again you saw that she was staring at you with a concerned gaze, once again. 

You let out a huff. “Rebecca, I’m fine.” 

“Be careful,” she said softly, seriously. 

You frowned at her, confused. “Of what?”

“He’s a footballer,” she continued. “We should all be careful of footballers. Especially the kind ones.” 

You swallowed her words forcefully. It was only then that you dawned on all of this being scary. A crush could turn into more, especially with how Roy was around you. You felt special, it was true, and that was the most dangerous thing of all. Inside you, that wall shot itself towards the sky once more. Behind it, you tried trampling your feelings down, but you knew it wouldn’t hold them at bay forever. 

You started your meeting, and for that hour, you didn’t think about Roy once. 

Downstairs, beneath two layers of concrete, Keeley Jones finished reading your article. It was brilliant, and she knew that if you didn’t win it would be an absolute crime. She skimmed her favourite parts over and over again, and was pleasantly surprised to find herself looking at Roy in a different light after inhaling your words about him. She harboured a bad feeling that made her believe you’d never actually submit it, whether it was from your fear of being good or not, or something else entirely.

That’s what led her to a lightbulb moment, one that overtook her senses and had her checking if you were returning from Rebecca’s office. When she saw the coast was clear, she smiled to herself. Lucky for her, you were all ready to actually submit your work, but she knew you needed a bit of a boost– in the form of her doing it for you. 

Quickly, deviously, Keeley scrolled to the bottom of the application page. Without thinking of any consequences, she clicked the big green button that said SUBMIT. 

CHAPTER FIVE

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff @ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum @cha0sdreaming 

[1uvtae]

mistaken very much | jeon jungkook

★word count: 7.4k words!!

★genre: nothing but university romance fluff and very unfunny crack because i have the worst humor,,,look, there's this tennis classmate, and maybe....you've made a pretty big mistake by staring at his butt....? and somehow this turns into a 'crush' on the jeon jungkook that you have never even seen.

★summary/snippet: you don't think staring at his butt cuts straight to the conclusion that you, y/n y/l/n, has a crush on him....but whatever. it's not like you actually have a crush on him...right?

★kae chit chats: forget about motorcycle boy, let's invite tennis boy into the family!!!! this was meant to be posted on v day 2022 but i kind of messed up my sleep schedule and just completely gave up on finishing this lol...,,,nothing but a fluff fic :P and I picked this back up in 2024 lol

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

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︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the feeling of being mistaken by someone is so fucking annoying. 

especially when you have probably just been mistaken as a pervert…!

the boy in your tennis class (not to mention, very handsome.) was just squatting in front of you, playing with the school campus cat that you have also been taking care of for months. you were also heading to feed the cat when you had already found him there, squatting down, caressing the cat. he was wearing a white button-up and baggy ripped jeans, but you can’t help but notice that….half of his shirt wasn’t tucked in? and it just looks like it’s dangling out like seaweed…? 

after staring at the white fabric for a few seconds, you look down at the bag of cat food, before putting it in your pocket, planning to feed the cat after he leaves. but when you lifted your head back up, your eyes met with the boy, there were no emotions in his eyes but you felt a hint of shyness rush to your head, and the idea that you were going to feed the cat floated away from your head as you immediately rushed back to your dorm. 

nayeon listened patiently and childish complaint that there was also someone looking after your cat, and how he mistook that you were staring at his ass for a good few seconds, before commenting: “don’t you realize that…he might think you were there to stare at him…..and how you ran away when he saw you…that’s quite suspicious…?”

you freeze. “holy shit.” 

nayeon giggled as she continued. “also last tennis session! you were zoning off at the back of his head, so when he turned, he gave you this weird look.” 

“no freaking way. i didn’t notice that.”

“it was a funny look, not going to lie.”

“help, what if he actually thinks i have a crush on him cause i keep staring at him?!” you try to contain the racing thoughts, and contemplate if you should’ve just kept your eyes pierced on the ground and not on his ass, or the back of his head.

“i mean he’s pretty good-looking, it won’t be weird to have a crush on him.”

you roll your eyes at her comment. “i don’t get it, it doesn’t mean everyone has to have a crush on him just because he’s good-looking, nayeon.”

it was the next tennis lesson, and to avoid more unnecessary interactions, you avoided all eye contact with anyone, but that didn’t stop nayeon from squealing and reporting every small movement from the boy. “he’s facing your direction!” “oh my gosh he’s right behind you!” your hands start to clam up with sweat with every small comment from nayeon. “stop looking at him, gosh.” it was after the lesson that you realized how even more suspicious you looked trying to avoid any eye contact and how often nayeon reported his movements in small mutters and whispers, and how you most definitely looked shy enough for anyone to mistake that you like the ‘good-looking tennis classmate’.

the teacher checks names off the clipboard as she reads two names at once to put their tennis equipment away. “nayeon, y/n.” she looks up at the two of you and back to the heavy boxes of tennis rackets. “the boy in the back, the tall one, help them with the boxes, please.” you and nayeon turn your head back in sync, to see the familiar boy nod and walk towards the both of you. you let out a sigh as nayeon excitedly squishes your arm, another strike. 

is this perhaps….hopelessness? 

yup, not only the boy, but everyone in your tennis class probably thinks that you have this awfully obvious and big crush on this person who you don’t even know the name of.

he cuts in front of you two, the three of you in complete silence. you and nayeon follow him like two cautious cats. he stops at the heavy boxes, and you two walk up to help him, but before you know it, he has already picked up the boxes with one hand, the other hand reaching into his pocket to answer the buzzing phone. what the fuck. you two shared a glance in disbelief, not going to lie, that was very, very, attractive. “damn. pretty tough.” you mutter under your breath and feel the two people from either side look at you immediately, his hand still holding the buzzing phone and nayeon giving you a concerned glance. 

the way back to the dorm was filled with your quietness and nayeon’s laugh. “he probably used to think you were just someone who had a crush on him, but now he thinks you are a literal weirdo who has a crush on him.” you run your hands through your hair in annoyance, how did the sentence even slip through your mouth? looks like you won’t be getting sleep tonight. and you sure didn’t, you kept rolling and shuffling in your bed to think of a tactic to this misunderstanding that you and the tennis boy had going on, and with your smart and very intelligent little brain, you figured out a plan.

“to not make him think that i have a huge fucking crush on him, i am going to pretend i have a crush on somebody else.” you take a sip of your coffee as nayeon nods. “hmm…who else is there to ‘like’?” you think hard before coming to the conclusion that there is no one in your tennis class that is worth ‘liking’. nayeon helps you to think for a good minute: “min yoongi from music…?” you shiver at the thought of your cold and savage music seatmate. “if you really want me to die, just say that.” nayeon chuckles at your comment before going back into the deep search for a suitable ‘crush’ for you. “i heard the tennis dude is in geography.” 

“geo!” another friend of yours popped into the conversation. “they have so many hot guys there!” 

you felt a rush of excitement: “recommend me some!”

“what’s your type?” 

“maybe… a pretty quiet one, maybe shy even? not that popular so no one will care if i like him, you know?”

nayeon shakes her head. “you can’t expect someone to be good-looking and not popular, y/n.”

“i think jeon jungkook.” your other friend suggested. “he’s quiet but literally more than half the school likes him, but that won’t be as weird if you also ‘like’ him, cause everyone likes him.” 

nayeon nods in agreement. “never seen him in my life, but i swear i hear his name mentioned on campus wayyy too often.”

hm. interesting.

the next week came by fast, before class you made your way to the disposal machine and picked up a can of coke, putting it in your backpack before heading to tennis class.

it was free time when you made your way to where the tennis boy was, he was practicing with the wall, he spared you a glance as you walked towards him, and back to practicing with the wall. you take a big breath as you walk towards him, the coke still in your backpack, expecting that when he drops the ball, you are going to pick it up and hand it to him, making it a perfect opportunity to start the ‘conversation’. you lean against the fence, waiting for him to drop the ball. 

not even once has he dropped the ball in the 10 minutes you have been standing here. you feel your legs start to cramp up. finally, he decided to rest for a good while, catching the ball with his right hand as it bounced off the wall, he lazily walked to his bag. you immediately rush over with the can in your hand. he looked at the can in your hands, then backed up to you. you couldn’t help but take in his facial features. it was the middle of the day, and the sun was high up in the sky, warming everybody up, and it seemed to warm your cheeks up when you made simple eye contact with the boy. 

he raised an eyebrow at you as if he was asking a rude and straight ‘what are you doing?’ with his facial expressions. you felt a small taste of regret that second, thinking that this boy definitely thinks you have an obsessed crush on him now, so the only thing you can do now is hope that the next few things you are going to say work out. 

“i bought coke for you.” you mumble as he takes a big sip from his bottle of water. “i don’t need that.” he has a straight face and everything. you take another deep breath as you figure out what you are going to say next. maybe this can be a little fun.

“are you free right now? i have something i want to say…” you tried to act as natural as you could. “i'm gonna practice.” he replied coldly before taking his equipment back to the court, your hand found his arm quickly, then released it in a second when he stopped in his tracks. “it’s just a few sentences.” you used a pleading tone, hoping this would convince him that you were going to ‘confess your crush’ to him. he patiently stopped and looked at you. you start your act, stuttering and acting shy, everything you have seen in romance confessing scenes in films. “well. i’ve noticed you for a long time…” you take the can of coke to hide your face as if you were a blushing mess. “i don’t know if you noticed that…” the ‘obviously you have a crush on me’ expression never left his face. “haven’t noticed.” 

you suppress an eye roll. “all i wanted to say was, i knew you’re in geography…i just wanted to ask if you know a jeon jungkook, i’ve had a crush on him for pretty long, can you help me to get his number?” you definitely want to give yourself a pat on the back, a round of applause even. you felt proud of yourself, proud that this ‘plot twist’ you have created for him, will deflate his ego and convince him that you never had your schoolgirl crush on him, but on this jeon jungkook that you have never met.

the tennis boy didn’t even raise an eyebrow at the comment, still calm as ever. “i don’t know him.”

it's even better that you don’t know him. you thought. all you wanted to know was to share the signal that you have a crush on someone who is not him., you didn’t even care to want jeon jungkook’s number, it was all an act to ‘spread the message’, you pretended to be extremely upset that he did not know this crush of yours, whining an ‘awe~’ and nodding slowly, “okay then…”, leaving him to walk away without sparing a glance at you.

you don’t know what’s wrong with you now. 

before you and this tennis boy had this thing going on, you never seemed to be seeing him around campus. but now after the last interaction, you seemed to be seeing the person everywhere. seeing him in the supermarket, seeing him in the cafeteria, seeing him in the library, seeing him between classes. 

and you know what’s more ironic? it’s always when you’re also with nayeon. you know nayeon’s dramatic acts are to notify you that ‘the boy that thinks you like him’ is over there, but from someone who doesn’t know this situation, it looks like she’s trying to tell you ‘there’s-the-boy-that-you-have-a-huge-mother-fucking-crush-on’. 

and the weird thing is, although you had explained that you like jeon jungkook, he seemed to still have the attitude that you are obsessed with him. especially when you bump into him and are forced to mutter a ‘hi’ or ‘hey’. all he would do was a gentle hum in response, or just nod. and you made a keynote to yourself to never say hello to him ever again. 

the main point was when you and nayeon saw him in a convenience store. you two quickly made your way out as soon as he and his friends walked in. but nayeon saw somebody she knew and immediately started chatting along as the social butterfly she was. you watched from your side-eye as he and his friend walked out of the door.

“isn’t the girl in the beige crew neck your little fangirl?” an unfamiliar voice came from the side, from a boy with soft blonde hair, walking next to the tennis boy. 

and then you hear it.

you hear a “mhm” of confirmation from the tennis boy. you felt a rush of anger run to your head as you retained yourself to scream at them. and then you watch the blonde boy spot you and nayeon, awkwardly, he turns away quickly and walks off with the other. but the other did not awkwardly leave, turning back to glance at you without shame. and that boiled your blood even more.

on the road back all you did was scream and mutter some curse words dedicated to the unshameful tennis boy. 

“don’t you think he might think that the whole jeon jungkook thing was an excuse you used to get closer to him?” nayeon spoke slowly after you had expressed all your anger. and you feel your mind pause. 

yup, it sure is hopelessness now if it wasn’t already hopelessness before.

the second morning. you woke up early and the first thing you did was to check on the cat, but you were extremely cautious. you did not want to bump into you-know-who, so you woke up extremely early so you could avoid seeing him. but after squatting down for just a few minutes. the expected happened. there he was, but this time wearing a black silk button-up, the buttons halfway up and you couldn’t help but take a few seconds to stare at him. but it’s okay because you were here first, so that makes you the person he should be waiting to finish with the cat. 

he stopped in his tracks when he saw you, standing in his spot, waiting for you to leave. 

‘do you get it? do you get it!’ you want to scream this at him. ‘this scene seems familiar! because you were in his spot the other day! you were just simply waiting! you don’t have a crush on him!’ you want to shout this all, but you were busy with the cat.

but weirdly today, the cat doesn’t seem to like you. it didn’t even take a single bite from the tuna stick you were feeding it, and it avoided your pats and touch today. 

well..that’s not a very good sign, is it?

“it doesn’t like being touched.” he walked closer, “it might scratch you.” you knit your brows at his speech, you know that. you were here taking care of the cat earlier than this tennis boy…yet he’s giving instructions on how to take care of the cat??

 “i know this cat.” you explain. “it likes me a lot.”

you pause when you watch the cat move away from your touch after your sentence, the cat avoids your touch as it slowly trots over to nudge his leg instead. he squats down and caresses the cat gently, then lifting his head to look at you with a glance, a look that made your blood boil. the competitiveness in you starts burning up like fire, you wave at the white cat, gesturing for it to come back to you. “lulu, over here.” 

the cat doesn't budge, instead, it gives you a lazy side-eye look and back to enjoy the boy's company. is this perhaps, favoritism?! 

“don’t randomly give it names.” he speaks slowly and quietly behind you. “what’s your problem?” you snap back with a tone that does not sound very friendly, and he stays silent as you stomp away. “i’m leaving, lulu!” you yell back one more time, and the cat: still under his touch, eyes closed, relaxed and unbothered. 

okay then…this was your first time fully understanding the meaning and the understanding of pretty privilege. 

“gosh, i was so hurt by that cat.” you complain back in your dorm. “it isn’t supposed to be like this! normally if you give it food, it will love you…but today it was completely under that tennis boy’s control. this is rigged.” nayeon pats the sheet mask she had on her face. “you saw him again this morning?” you sigh. “yeah, unlucky isn’t it?” 

“he probably also thinks he’s pretty unlucky too.” 

“if i knew he was gonna be there, i wouldn’t wake up so early to avoid him.”

“i was thinking,” nayeon starts again with the tone that you do not like very much, knowing this would be another thing to worry about tonight. “what if he thinks you were there just to create this ‘oops i did not know you were going to be here’ scene? like you were waiting for him to come and see the cat too to create this awkward meeting.” nayeon’s guesses always feel like lightning that struck straight into your soul. “and you said the cat didn’t really seem to like you, doesn’t that look like as if you aren’t close with the cat, as if you were there for another reason…? 

that night was one of the sleepless nights filled with overthinking and worry. 

you were heading over to the cafeteria the second day with a friend. in the crowded and loud dining hall, you hear a loud shout of ‘jungkook!’ from one side to the other. hearing the familiar yet unfamiliar name, you turn your head back in curiosity, but instead, meeting eyes with the tennis boy. 

he was sitting at a table with 4 other boys, including the one blonde boy you saw last time when they were walking out of the convenience store. you tap your friend’s shoulder. “hey, turn your head to the big table with the 5 guys, is jeon jungkook in there? don’t make it obvious, please.”

you watch her basically throw her head back aggressively for what seems like 2 minutes, then turn back and nod. “yeah, isn’t he fine?” “holy shit, can you be more obvious?!” but hearing that your ‘crush’ is also on that table, you slowly turn your head once more and scan the boys, then realizing that out of all the boys, the tennis boy is still the most attractive one for you. although you don’t know which one is jeon jungkook, none out of the 4 boys seem to be your type. 

your shoulders drop a little without realizing, disappointed in your ‘crush’. in fact, will the tennis boy think you have bad taste? 

wait, why would you even care about him in the first place…right…?

the second week of tennis class, also your second streak of buying a can of coke for him. but this time, he doesn’t seem as cold and weird as last time. when he saw that you were waiting for him by the side, he dropped his equipment and walked slowly to you. “what?” you feel yourself swallow out of nervousness. “i saw you guys eating lunch last friday.” his brows knit slightly. “who?” 

“jeon jungkook.” you reply quickly as if the name burns your tongue. “you said you didn’t know him last week…” he used an unspeakable emotion to reply. “i think you have the wrong person.” you were confused at the comment, but continued once more. “just say if you know him or not.”

“it doesn’t matter if i know him or not.” he licks his lips and runs his hands through his dark brown hair, maintaining eye contact with you and you feel you slowly lose your breath at the intense eye contact. you clear your throat and hand the can of coke to him, before taking a plastic bag containing some snacks. “the coke is for you, and can you hand these snacks to him?” before he can refuse it, you add another sentence. “if he doesn’t want them, take them for yourself, don't return it back to me, i would feel  very embarrassed if you did.” 

he stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at the items in your two hands, then lifting his left hand to take both the cans of coke and the plastic bag. you let out a long breath. you hope this is obvious enough that you, y/n y/l/n, do not have a crush on him. or any liking. nothing. 

you relax back into your chair, taking in your cup noodles as you listen to the gossip and events that happened today. there seems to be a geography boys vs gym boys basketball game that went on this afternoon, which turned out to be extremely intense and entertaining to watch. your ears perked up at the mention of geo boys. 

you swallow your bite. “so who won?”

“duh, of course gym, they’re the professionals. how embarrassing would it be for them if they lost?!” your roommate answered, “geo lost because two of the best players got hurt throughout the last half of the game.” the thought of the tennis boy ran into your head, and you could not help but wonder if he got hurt too. 

“oh yeah, the jeon jungkook you have a ‘crush’ on also got hurt. think he tripped and hurt his knee or something.” she continues. you nodded before turning to nayeon to ask;“what about the tennis dude? did he play today?” 

“he played too, he was so good, i think i saw him also get hurt.” nayeon lets out a nosey ‘aww’. “you care about him quite much y/n….” you hesitate for a long time, putting yourself into deep thought. “nayeon…this is weird but, do you think that you somehow programmed my brain to take an attraction to him. because i don’t know why i’ve been thinking about and meeting him so much.” 

nayeon knits her brows. “just say if you like him or not…anyways, there’s another game tomorrow, wanna go watch?” 

you don’t know how you ended up here.

you thought you and nayeon were already early, but the court was still jammed with people. you tried your hardest to squeeze into the crowd, once you had finally worked your way to the front, your eyes caught him. 

he stood in the corner, talking to his teammates, the red basketball jersey lazily overlaying a white tee, he ran his hand through his hair, and your eyes could not move away from him. a shout from a girl next to your side entered your ear. “jungkook looks so good?!” but you didn't have the attention for jeon jungkook, your eyes and mind was completely taken away by him instead. 

the basketball game started, your eyes followed him as he took a sip from his water bottle, and high-fived his teammates before entering. a scream came from the two girls next to you. “go geo!!!” the scream caught his attention, causing him to turn towards your direction, spotting you standing next to the two girls. you make a good second of eye contact as you look away and cheer for jungkook instead. 

after giving jeon jungkook a good shout, you turn back to him, but he is still looking at you. you did not know what to do, avoiding eye contact, you scanned the entire court with your eyes but just, not looking at him. he moved and looked away to get ready with his teammates, and you felt obligated to stare back at him. you watch him as he looks away, then lowers his head to suppress a small smirk. 

and that smirk did a lot to you, you could not help but pinch nayeon’s arm. 

the sharp whistle brought you back to life, the game has started. you did not understand basketball and didn't watch games in your spare time. so the entire time, you just kept your glance on the tennis boy. 

and then you spot how his leg definitely got slightly injured during the last race, you could tell that his leg was a little uncomfortable when he was moving intensely. 

but that leg did not stop him from aiming and playing perfectly, when he ran past the crowd, it felt like a swoosh of fresh wind. midgame, the ball has gone out of court. it rolls towards you and you watch as he comes jogging to pick the ball up, then accidentally stepping on your shoes. it was a light step but he immediately looked up at you and apologized. you frown playfully and he moves closer to you. “step on me and then we can be fair.” you bite your bottom lip to suppress a dumb grin, shaking your head and gesturing him to go back into the game. 

you look to your right and see the group of girls rolling their eyes at you.  …arent they obsessed with that jeon jungkook or something…?

without a doubt, geo had won the game. you watched the large crowd of girls rush to hand the players drinks and ask for their numbers. you dragged nayeon away from the crazy amount of students that had created a crowd circling the team of boys. and you two make your way towards the convenience store on the other side of the road. 

you pause in front of the drink aisles, struggling badly to pick a drink. just as you were deciding, a hand reached out from behind you to grab two bottles of coke. “oh, sorry-” you turn your head to be faced with the familiar tennis boy. he walked slyly to the counter, paid for the drinks and handed one of the bottles to you. “sorry for stepping on you during the game.” you shake your head, mumbling that it was fine and takes the bottle with both hands carefully as if you were the one who did something wrong. 

he pauses for a second and grabs the bottle back from you before opening the bottle cap for you naturally in a swift motion. “did you not go and offer your little crush a drink?” he said with a teasing tone. you answer convincingly: “there were too many people standing around, i couldn’t squeeze in.

”oh.” he cocks an eyebrow as he slowly takes his phone out of his pocket. “i was talking to jungkook, telling him that a girl in my tennis class is interested in him, and he agreed to…give you his number.” you freeze instantly. “you want it?” he waves his phone at you. 

this is…a little awkward. to be extremely honest, you don’t want his number, but seeing his bright glassy eyes staring at you, it is a little hard to refuse to take the number. you nod slowly as you bring out your phone, and enter the number into your contacts.

on the way back to your dorm, your finger trembled to type something into the chat, all you managed to enter the chatbox was a subtle and small smiley face. 

quite awkward considering the fact that you don’t even know what this jeon jungkook looks like.. 

he replied fast, with just a casual:

‘hey’

you told him that he played really well during the game. 

jungkook thanked you and said that he had received the bag of snacks. 

well, this is a great start. but you can't help but think about what if this jeon jungkook takes an interest in you. 

when you don’t even know who he is in the first place.

the second week of tennis class, you watch the tennis boy walk onto the court with a box of gourmand chocolates. nayeon nudges you when she sees him walk towards you, and stop just in front of you. 

he looked especially calm: “he asked me to hand you this.” you reach your hand out take the pink box of chocolates and thank him with a mumble.

after class, jungkook texted you to ask if you had received the gift, and you two had some small talk. conversations about how your classes went and about his day distracted you, almost bumping into a tree. nayeon laughs as she drags you to the side before that disaster, “might as well go for this jeon jungkook if he’s brightening your day so much, y/n.” 

you lock your phone before linking arms with nayeon. you’ve never realised how often you and this jeon jungkook got along just simply by texting. this situation seems to be a little flirty since he knows that you “like” him. 

“i don’t even know him!! this was just a misunderstanding, there’s no way will i go for him.” nayeon nods her head. “of course i know it’s a misunderstanding, but it seems like it is a good misunderstanding- wait, you’re not telling me that you actually like that tennis guy…right?” 

you stop in your tracks, not saying a word. nayeon cleared the silence: “if you reckon you like the other guy, let jeon jungkook know that this was all a misunderstanding.”

 “that's exactly what i wanted to do, see?” you unlock and show her the texts. “i asked him if he wanted to go out for boba, so i could explain this to him in person, but he rejected and said he has training.” 

he rejected your offer that day, and the day after. 

neyeon jumps up when you read the “sorry, i also can’t do today.” text out: “what the heck!!!! there’s no way he’s that busy?? oh my gosh- he’s a fuckboy!! he’s a literal f-boy that can’t make enough time for all his girls-” 

excellent idea, nayeon. 

you sigh and nayeon notices how your shoulders dropped slightly.

“y/n, how about you tell the tennis guy then, cause you also have some misunderstandings with him, clear the air with him, and he can let jeon jungkook know since he obviously doesn’t have time for you”

you walk into the dining hall, only searching for the silhouette of one specific person. and there he is, sitting alone, enjoying a burger. you walk to the seat across from him, “hey.” the pair of deer eyes lands on you, and he raises an eyebrow. “what?” 

you move at the speed of a snail, taking a seat in front of him: “i have things to tell you.” 

the tennis boy puts down his meal, and slowly squeezes a sentence out his mouth. “then tell me.”

“i was talking about you because you didn’t tuck in your shirt properly the other day.”

“........i wore it like that on purpose.”

“ i was feeding that cat ages ago, like, wayyyy before you did.”

he brought the burger to his mouth, took another bite: “yup. got it.”

“okay then,” you took a deep breath, “i don’t like jeon jungkook, it was all because you misunderstood me, and thought i had a crush on you- which i do not!” you hear a soft chuckle leave his mouth. dude? “what are you laughing about.”

he swallows his bite. “nothing, you go on.”

“i’m wondering if you can go explain this to jeon jungkook….for me?” 

he looks up at you once again. “why should i go explain this to him? you should go yourself.” gosh, he is insufferable. “i really would love to! but i’ve asked to see him multiple times, but he says he is busy every single time!” 

another light chuckle. 

“don’t even laugh.” you feel humiliated, what is the matter? “i’m being deadly serious, can you literally take me seriously?” 

“do you know why you can never seem to ask him out?” the boy stares into your eyes with a hinting glance that you don’t specifically like.

you’re so confused, “no, i don’t know. but that’s literally not the point.”

“well, here’s the point.” he sips his coke and swiftly reaches into his backpack to take out his id, handing it to you. you take the id into your hands and stare at it for a while. “huh?” 

then is hits you, you don’t even know this guy's name. your eyes glance over the id, from the photo to his name..back to his id. his warm dark brown hair looking soft, his doe eyes are soft and very, very pretty. a mole at the tip of his nose, and one very visible mole perfectly under his pouty lips. did you mention he has a perfect smile? 

you almost get sucked into the photo when you realise something. huh?

you unwillingly unglue your eyes from the id and place them onto the face that is currently in front of you. he has the same smile from the id on his face right now. “what does your id mean?” he runs a hand through his perfect locks, “you still don’t know my name?”

something in you clicked. “why are you also named jeon jungkook??” this time, he lets out an even bigger laugh. “i’m the jeon jungkook.” you feel slightly sick. “.....what.”

“who did you even think jeon jungkook was then?”

“i don’t know??? i told you i’m just pretending to like this jeon jungkook person…”

jungkook raises an eyebrow, “you’re not doing much background check before pretending to like them, huh?”

his eyes still fixed on you, now with a teasing tone:” actually you misunderstood in the first place, i never thought you even had a crush on me, until you came up to me and told me that you like this jeon jungkook guy. i was utterly confused, like i thought you were using some creative way to confess to me, get my attention or something.” 

“oh my gosh i did not!” you feel so much embarrassment for yourself, even second-hand embarrassment at this point. jungkook continued: “and then i thought maybe you liked one of my friends, but just got the name wrong. but every single time when i bumped into you, you always seemed to be looking at me first, right?” 

all the blood rushed from your body to your face, and you felt your cheeks flush up. “did not!!!” 

“sure did, doll.” 

“no! see! like it’s all a misunderstanding! you have mistaken me for liking you. it’s not that deep.” you realise you’re extremely loud, causing you to lower your voice to a more softer tone.

“yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” you huff in disagreement, then you realised that you’re not only here to get these words straight but to also admit that you do like him a tad bit….not deny it completely! 

“then who’s number did you give me?”

“mine.”

“okay, so you’ve been playing me” 

“hm?”

“you knew i must’ve gotten something muddled up, but you still text me every day? you’re still giving me snacks? you’re still flirting with me?”

“that’s me being polite,” he mumbled under his breath.

“okay so you do this with everyone.”

“i don’t normally take stuff from other people, or give my number or whatever?”

“then why me?”

“since you’re the one with the biggest crush on me, so i had to be quite courteous.” 

“no. shut up.”

you can’t get yourself to be convinced that you don’t like him, just like how you couldn’t convince yourself that he doesn’t think you had a fat schoolgirl crush on him.

you don’t know what jeon jungkook wants from you! 

after that conversation, it’s like he’s even more convinced that you are in love with him. every time you enter the lunch hall, he spots you instantly, raises an eyebrow gesturing for you to sit next to the empty seat next to him. (as if saying: “here’s your chance to sit next to me, babe.”) when you ran into him in the campus library, he would knit his brows and playfully ask something like “how did you know i was going to be here?”

as if you’re tracking his location or something!!

the next basketball game came very soon. the day of the basketball game you had received a text from him giving you the time of the game and what court it was going to be at bright and early. as if he was certain you were going to go, douche. 

well…that afternoon you showed up with a baseball cap, trying to hide in the crowd. there were way more people this time, how is that even possible? when you got to lay your eyes on him, he was on his phone in the corner, while his teammates were warming up. a little delusional thought popped up in your head. he’s probably sending you a text message…? a notification sound ruined your thought. you feel the corners of your mouth slowly raise as you pulled out your phone from the butt pocket of your jeans.

“Hey! It’s Duolingo.

Make your screen time count. Take a quick Japanese lesson.”

what. you feel a little irritated as you lock your screen and before aggressively shoving your phone back into your pocket, you raise your head to search for jungkook when you meet eyes with him. you didn’t even have to search for him, he was already eyeing you.  his eyes teasingly dart from you to your phone in your hand. dude. 

you were fantasizing about yourself receiving a “where are you” text so you can hit him with a simple and petty  “i’m not coming”!!!!

he went straight into warming up after that short exchanging looks with you, one shot and the crowd of girls starts cheering like there’s no tomorrow. try hard. attention seeker. show off. you think to yourself when you shoot him a dirty glance from the crowd. it’s like he catches that look instantly, jungkook hands the ball to his teammates, and goes back to sitting on the bench in silence. you smile to yourself.

the game finishes and you drag nayeon to sprint out of the court before the herd of people makes it extra difficult. this time, another notification.

jung fking kook : group dinner, u and ur friend wanna come?

you stop in your tracks and text back: nah, i dont even know your friends.

text sent. you and nayeon start walking back when footsteps of someone running up from behind distract you. a large hand grabs your arm and turns you around in a swift motion. 

there he stood, still slightly glowy after the intense game. his eyes looked extra soft and bright under the road light. “let’s go together?” 

how can you ever reject him?

you, nayeon and jungkook went to a hot pot eatery nearby, and you wondered the entire way there if would be so darn awkward when you saw his friends. but thank god, they were way too energetic, to the point they almost didn’t even see you three walk in. jungkook insisted on introducing you to his friends, making sure each and one of his friends greeted you. you leaned closer to him and muttered “how do you know my name?” he whispered back. “not everyone is like you y/n.”

that’s when you figured, maybe he did not tell his friends about the ridiculous things you’ve said and done, since all of them greeted you and nayeon with large smiles. that calmed you down a whole lot. except the blonde boy, park jimin. he seemed like he wanted to jokingly say something, but swallowed his words when jungkook gave him a good glance. 

after dinner, nayeon made some excuses and said she had to leave early while shooting you many knowing looks and childish eyebrow raises. you stand outside of the restaurant while the boys pay the check. this night has never felt so calm on your skin before. you wanted to say bye to jungkook before leaving. but the second the boys came out of the restaurant, the same warm hand placed itself on your arm. “i’ll walk you back.” 

okay. it’s only like 5 minutes but whatever.

there were more people than you expected on the road. usually, you will not pay any attention to the people passing by but maybe because you were walking with jungkook tonight, it seemed like every goddamn couple in the world was next to you two. and everyone recognised jeon jungkook. of course, they did.

he grabbed your hand gently and decided to walk into a dark alleyway. you’ve never realised how nice his hands felt wrapped around your own. in the darkness, you can hear his faint breathing next to you. “lulu used to hunt for mice here.” he broke the comfortable silence. 

you never knew he started addressing her as lulu too. 

“and she had a lover that lived in one of these houses, they used to hang out here,” you added.

“y/n, how do you even know that?”

“i told you i was feeding lulu way before you.” you comment, this is totally a competition now.

you hear him lightly laugh in the darkness. 

the 5-minute walk took at least double the time to get there, some streetlights outside your dorm are old and broken, causing a dim-lit atmosphere. you spot a couple on the side of the street making out. if you walked even closer, you could probably even hear the sickening sounds. jungkook looked extra calm as if he could not hear anything, he walked you to the door and spoke. “you’re here.”

you don’t know what to reply to that. 

“right. i’m home.”

and he turned and walked away.

???

“that’s it?”

“that’s fucking it?:”

nayeon just opened a bag of barbeque chips, getting ready to hear about everything that went down, preparing to be surprised. she sighed to herself. she didn’t even get to get comfortable on your bed!

“he didn’t say anything? you two didn’t even hug?”

you thought to yourself before answering, “we talked about lulu. and that's it.”

“oh my days.” nayeon shakes her head in disapproval “he introduced you to his friends, what is in that little head of his?!” 

“i genuinely don’t know.” you feel a twinge of sadness growing in your chest, “maybe we overanalyzed this.” 

if this is what it feels like to like somebody, you’d rather stay single for the rest of your life. 

you decided to have a good, relaxing shower to get your mind off things. when getting into your bed, you receive a text. 

jung fking kook: breakfast tmrw?

you did not feel like replying, leaving the message read. 

jung fking kook: or lunch? both?

you felt so aggravated, your fingers moving so fast to type your thoughts out without thinking about what you wanted to say.

y/n: you’re so bloody confusing, are you currently demonstrating to me how a guy acts when they know a girl likes them or are you showing me what a guy does when they actually like someone? because this is getting so damn tiring for me, jungkook.

no emojis. you’re letting him know this is bloody serious. 

the grey typing icon pops up from the bottom of the screen, then disappears. 

audio message.

you almost jump off your bed to grab your earphones. popping the earbuds into your ears, you hear the familiar voice. before the voice could even warm your heart up, it felt like a cold splash of water in your face instead.

“hey, look im so sorry, i just- i just don’t know how to tell you this.” 

rejection tastes great, doesn’t it!

another audio message followed up. you disconnected your earphones, you do not have time for this rejection anymore.

jung fking kook: listen to it.

y/n: i’m tired. goodnight.

after typing the “good night” message out, you felt your curiosity eating you up. you pop an earbud into your ear, and press play.

“you’re correct, this is exactly what i’m doing. what a guy does when they genuinely like somebody.” you gasp and before you could even reply, an incoming call from jungkook comes in. 

“hi.”

“hi.”

“did you open it?”

you didn’t know how to respond. you panicked. are you going to say yeah i heard you just say you like me or are you going to play dumb like no bro what did u say haha

“yeah.”

“i knew it.”

“okay jungkook.”

“i’m downstairs.”

“you’re what?!”

“yeah. come down.”

jeon jungkook is going to be the death of you. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart Masterpost

⛸️ Summary: You and Mingi have been at each other's neck for the past year. The latter finds big enjoyment in spurring you on while you just want to make it to graduating without being charged with murder. Things take an interesting turn when your crush and fellow figure skater shows interest in you resulting in a fistfight, two love confessions and multiple heartbreaks.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst, fluff, smut

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, alcohol consumption, chaotic friendship, a lot of side characters, party scenes, arguments, mature content, more tags are to come with each chapter so read those carefully!

⛸️ Current wordcount: 58.2K

⛸️ Author's note: Ignore the fact that this was supposed to be an oneshot and not a mini-series. Anyhow, I'm really proud of this work as it is something I've been writing for a really long time (since October 2023) but I'm also very nervous to share it with you guys, so if you like (or dislike) it, please, do tell me! The parts are all around 13-16K words, except for the finale, which I still haven't started writing 😭

I also want to say a big thank you to @zchnlswrld for beta reading and giving me love and encouragement through the journey! You’re very much appreciated 🩷

AO3 Masterlist Moodboard Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is not for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights, and adult language. Minors, please refrain from reading or interacting with this work!!!

01. I’M JUST DREAMING OF TEARIN’ YOU APART

02. THE AUTUMN WITHIN ME IS GRIEVING

03. YOU KNOW YOU'RE ON MY MIND

04. KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER

05. BE STILL MY FOOLISH HEART (TBD)

© HONGJOONGSART 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed

[animekpopsimp]

I'm here (Mike Schmidt x reader)

You were suddenly stirred from your deep sleep by the feeling of Mike moving next to you in the bed. You let out a tired groan as you slowly opened your eyes and looked over at your boyfriend, Mike. He was tossing and turning with a distressed expression on his face. You frowned, reaching over as you began to shake him.

"Mike, Mike wake up" you spoke. A moment later, he let out a gasp as his eyes shot open and he shot up from his sleep. You sat there, waiting patiently for him to calm down.

"(Y/N)?" He asked, looking over at you. He suddenly pulled you into a tight hug, keeping you close to his chest. You could feel his heart racing in his chest.

"Did you have a nightmare?" You asked in a gentle voice, looking up at him with a gentle expression on your face. Mike sighed, only nodding in response. You rested your head on his shoulder while running a hand through his hair, soothing him. Eventually, the two of you laid back down, falling asleep in each other's arms.

[aurilvs]

천러<3 8:17 am

slow mornings w zhong chenle sign me up pls

weird mix of 1st and 3rd pov

0.3k words

sweet by cigarettes after sex

The feeling of your boyfriend's lips tickles your whole face “morning sleepyhead” Chenle mutters brushing baby hairs out of your face. His heart swelled in adoration at your disvelished state swollen cheeks, messy hair, pouty lips, and your limbs searching for his warmth under the covers on that crisp fall morning “Have I ever told you I love you” he wondered out loud “Maybe but I can't really recall” you teased nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck breathing in his scent. Chenle softly grabbed her chin forcing her to direct all her attention to him “I love you so much it scares me”.

He admitted a bit shy, she answered with a soft kiss that was deposited on the Chinese's lips, to what he could get enough (he never seemed to) so he put a hand at her nape bringing her closer, if it was even possible, gently biting down her lips a habit of his she could grow addicted, they pulled away as their lungs were begging for air.

“I love you” she muttered against his lips making him melt in the process, kissing her again something he grew addicted to. Nipping at her lips that somehow always managed to taste sweet. His tongue slightly teased her as he softly licked her lips while his hands freely roamed all over her body finally settling on her waist and bringing her even closer.

They pulled away since their lungs were screaming for oxygen, and their bed shifted at the feeling of someone's weight, when they realized it was their bichon puppy, daegal, the whole room erupted in smiles. As the puppy climbed up to where their faces were Chenle cooed “hi Daegal hi baby did you sleep well?” when he noticed Daegal was trying to find her mom he helped her and lifted de duvet where you were hiding for warmth

“Look Daegal, it's the prettiest girl ever” a blush made its way to your cheeks before hiding on Chenle’s chest while Daegal yapped almost begging for attention and pets, you pulled away from your lover, and the puppy nestled between the both of you making herself comfortable before chenle started “we should get up” to what you slowly muttered “5 more minutes” and went back to cuddling daegal so he just enjoyed the moment and let you have your 5 more minutes.

[jae-bummer]

All I'm Asking

Request: Hi could I request #2 with seventeen Woozi ? Thank you sm !🤍

Prompt:

2) “Get in the fucking blanket fort."

Prompt list can be found HERE.

Pairing: Seventeen Woozi x Reader

Genre: Fluff/Teaspoon of Angst/Teaspoon of Spice

.

"You're telling me," Seungkwan gossiped. "That our beloved Woozi hyung just flaked on you?"

"That's just not like him," Hoshi tsked, taking a long sip from his iced coffee.

"It is when he's locked inside that studio," DK clucked. "Music will always come first for him."

"We tried to warn you," Hoshi nodded, swigging from his coffee again.

You glanced at the trio of boys in front of you and sighed. Placing your elbow on your knee, you plopped your chin into the palm of your hand. "Is it ever going to get easier?"

"Yes," DK nodded just as Hoshi and Seungkwan said variations of "Probably not."

"But you have us," Seungkwan nodded. He reached forward and squeezed your knee, a look of pity in his eyes. "We always have your back!"

Taking a deep breath, you sat straight and looked to the ceiling of the blanket fort they had pulled you into. "You guys are the best."

This made each boy smile in turn as they descended on you for a group hug. Just as Hoshi was beginning to spill his coffee onto your jeans, the front door slamming shut caused you all to lapse into silence.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice called out.

"Ooooh," DK hissed. "He sounds mad."

"Y/N!" Woozi called out again, his voice closer this time.

"She's not here!" Hoshi called out, causing you to look at him in alarm. Opening his mouth and closing it again, he gave a small shrug.

"Y/N," Woozi sighed, his footsteps finally reaching the room that held the blanket fort. "I know you're in there."

"No you don't," you grumbled, dropping your face into your hands.

"Alright," Woozi groaned. "Everybody, out!"

The group of you darted your eyes around the space and at each other in confusion.

"Out now!" Woozi said sternly.

The change of tone caused you to immediately begin scrambling out of the fort's opening. Feeling your friends close behind, you took a deep breath. Whatever argument was to come with Woozi, they would have your back.

"Why are you acting like you all are harboring a fugitive?" Woozi asked, completely exhausted as he eyed his members.

"A bit dramatic, hyung," Seungkwan said rolling his eyes. Woozi sent a deadpan expression his way, causing him to close his mouth immediately.

"Can we have a bit of privacy?" Woozi tried. The reaction was immediate across the other boys as they began to step around you and head out of the room.

"What about having my back?" you hissed.

"We'll have it down the hallway," DK whispered. "Where we can eavesdrop and not get Woozi's angry eyes."

"Traitors," you grumbled, crossing your arms.

Just as they filed out of the room, Woozi pinched the bridge of his nose. "There is no such thing as privacy in this house."

"At least they're around," you muttered. "Maybe not always when you want them to be, but it's better than disappearing for days at a time."

Woozi winced. "Can we have this conversation somewhere that's not the middle of the dorm?"

"Nope."

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he opened them again to assess the blanket fort. Taking the few steps toward the tent, he motioned with his thumb. "Let's go."

"I am not going anywhere with you, Jihoon," you muttered, turning your face away. "Even if it's into a fort three feet away."

"Y/N," he groaned. "I'll ask nicely, but only one time. Please?"

You remained silent.

Woozi took a quick inhale before circling around you and pointing a finger in the direction of where you were just hiding. "Y/N, get in the fucking blanket fort."

You were taken aback by his blunt command, but also slightly turned on (you were only human after all).

Biting his lip and quirking a brow, he shoved his chin in the direction he wanted you to move.

Sighing, you accepted defeat before you dropped to all fours and climbed into the blankets.

Taking a few silent moments to settle yourselves, Woozi attempted to set his hand on your thigh, causing you to squirm away.

"Really?" he asked, lifting his brows.

"Really."

"What have I done that is that terrible, Y/N?" he groaned.

"Why don't you guess?" Hoshi whisper shouted just outside the fort. A series of hushed whisper arguing followed.

"You're shit talking me to BooSeokSoon?" Woozi grumbled. "I will literally never hear the end of it from them."

"And maybe you deserve it."

"Y/N," he whispered, saying your name with reverence this time. "Please just talk to me."

Okay, so maybe you were being a brat, but you felt it was totally in your right. You were just so tired of expecting your boyfriend to want to be around you, only to go off and do something else instead. Maybe he was right though, maybe you could approach the conversation a bit better than you had originally intended.

"I miss you," you said simply.

"Baby, I'm right here," he responded, this time scooting to sit directly across from you. With knees touching, he began to idly play with the rips in your jeans.

"You know what I mean," you said quietly. Not daring to look up.

But Woozi knew you, and he knew that he was also being purposefully dense.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Taking your chin in between his fingers, he lifted it by a few inches, forcing you to look at his remorseful expression. Staring into your eyes, he repeated, "I'm so sorry."

"I just want you to do better," you croaked, trying your hardest not to cry. "I know your career and music is so important to you, but I want to be important too."

"You are," he nodded. "I know I haven't been very good at conveying that to you lately, but just with the album coming up, and all of the artists overseas that I'm working with..."

"I got lost in the shuffle," you muttered.

"Never," he said fiercely, tilting your head up again as you tried to avoid eye contact. "I don't want to hear you say that, okay?"

You remained silent as he went on.

"These things I'm focusing on and the emails I'm sending, they're all just fleeting thoughts. I focus on them in the moment and then they'll eventually be handled or forgotten. Do you know what's in between those spaces? What's ever present as I go through my day? You and your love for me.

It's like a song on in the background and I can't get the lyrics out of my head. It's that one ray of sunshine pouring through a window and lighting all of the darkest parts of my day. That's you, no one else and nothing else. Understood?"

You shook your head weakly even though it was still caught in Woozi's hand. "I hear you, but I want you to show it too."

Biting his lip, Woozi's eyes roamed your face. "I need to be more present, but I also need you to have a little more give."

You knew he was right and you hated it. Woozi was always the rational one in your relationship when you felt like everything was falling apart. He was your constant and your rock. You knew if you said something was broken, he'd be the first one to jump in and fix it.

"That'll take time," he nodded. "I'll have to unlearn some habits, but I really hope you can be patient with me."

"I can try," you pouted, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Good," he smiled. "Because that's all I'm asking."

Moving his fingers from your chin, he began to cup your cheek instead. "But in the meantime...."

You held your breath as he leaned forward and planted his lips against yours. It had been so long since you had been able to get lost in each other. Sliding his hand back to grip your hair, he gently tugged your head to deepen the kiss. He was intoxicating. Your head swam with everything that he was and everything that he could do to you. He nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to let out a whimper before he pulled away.

"Are we going to fuck in a blanket fort?" you breathed heavily.

Woozi smirked before assessing the small space.

"Do not besmirch the meeting place of our girl gang!" Seungkwan screeched from outside of the tent.

Letting out a surprised laugh, you couldn't help the smile spreading across your face.

Woozi grinned as well, reaching his hand out to grab yours. "Let's find a room with a door that locks instead."

[piffany666]

Headcanon! Darling and Sam both love Buffy the vampire slayer and will spend hours cuddled up watching it together

[persphonesorchid]

Orbiting Jupiter - KNJ || Teaser ||

Summary: Namjoon has never met someone like you in a long time. Jupiter to his Ganymede; he's stuck in your orbit.

Teaser Warnings: None (exact warnings will be on the official post, but there's none for the teaser )

Word Count: 771

Genre: Strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of angst (it's not much, promise :))

Notes: Just something I'm working on, which honestly is ending up way longer than I thought I would lol. I'm not sure when it'll be ready to post, but do keep your eye out for it! Hope you like the sneak peak! If you'd like to be tagged, lemmie know!

Full fic has been posted!: Read HERE

His eyes trail over the other patrons, everyone absorbed in their own worlds and conversations. The table he eyes quickly gets taken while he collects his iced Americano and he sighs softly, despite the amount of people in, he doesn’t want to leave yet, and the only available spot to sit comes with another person. Namjoon weighs his options. He could go outside, find a little park to sit in and drink his coffee, or he could risk it here, where someone has yet to pay him any mind. It’s been so long since he’s been able to walk freely, he knows he’ll miss it when he goes back through the front door.  

So, with cautious steps, he walks over to the table with the only available seat.  

“Excuse me...” Namjoon softly calls, briefly contemplating on tapping your shoulder; you’re reading a book, and he knows well how easily one can get lost in those. You look up though, the tiny furrow between your brows gives way to your confusion, as well as the little humming sound you make. “Sorry...do you mind if I...”  

Namjoon motions to the chair across from you, and you look at it and then back to him for a few seconds before realization blooms in your eyes.  

“Oh! No, of course...just...go ahead.” Your smile is pretty, Namjoon notes, and he realizes, as he thanks you and sits, that you recognise him. You stare at him in a knowing kind of way, and before Namjoon can up and leave, you simply smile the way you had before, as though he was any other stranger wanting to share your table. He watches with bated breath, trying to stay calm just in case, and you just go back to reading your book.  

There’s no fanfare, no freaking out and drawing attention, or asking for a photo and too invasive questions. You don’t even look at him again. The sound of you flipping the pages of your book melds into the background noise of the space, and Namjoon finds it strange. He thanks his stars, though, he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk losing his head.

“Can I... Is it okay if I ask for your number?” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can reel them in, and he’s standing there a little mortified. Namjoon always prides himself in being self-assured, but that same self-assurance leads him to putting his foot in his mouth sometimes and he says things without thinking first. It’s too late to pull the words back or act like he hadn’t asked because you’re blinking up at him, sitting a little straighter now in your seat. 

You glance around, brows furrowed, “Are...are you sure?”  

For the first time, it seems as though it just registered that you’re speaking to RM of BTS. 

There’s a nervousness about you now, as you glance to the side, and Namjoon finds this strange. He’s not trying to sound like an ass thinking that many others would jump at the offer – or be bold enough to demand it first – it’s simply the truth.  

He finds your consideration refreshing, though, and he waits patiently for you to make up your mind. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and Namjoon backtracks, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” Namjoon says, putting up a hand. Despite who he is in the eyes of the public; he’s still a man. A man you’ve only spoken to for a half hour who’s now asking for your number, Namjoon would think very hard about it if he were in your shoes, too.  

“I don’t meet a lot of people like you, and I thought it would be nice if we spoke often, but if that’s not cool, that’s okay.”  

You shake your head, “No... it’s okay. I just...Are you sure? I don’t want to put you in any difficult spots, or myself for that matter...”  

You’re surprisingly calm, looking more wary than anything else, and Namjoon takes that as a good sign. “I’m sure, don’t worry.” He smiles and pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans; he unlocks it with a press of his thumb and hands it over to you.  

You fumble a little with the device, fingers tapping at the number pads quickly before handing it back to him. He shoots you a quick text, a simple ‘Hi :”)' before he was pocketing his phone again, waving and making his way out the café door. 

Tagging: @xpeachesncream @matchy6812 @luaspersona @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @eren-fall @blog-name-idk @astormunchar

[moonwonuu]

part 43 — ang wakas 💌

pov: kung saan nakahanap si wonwoo nang pahinga in the form of a coffee lover who is always willing to listen to him whenever life is getting too much for him to handle. everything between them was platonic until it was not

·ᴗ· taglist: @yuiis-things @biskwitmamaw @hanniesdegree @luveveryonewoo @dreamhannies @summertime-simmons @nanamioo @raely-study @potatofrieswithketchup @justasoftstan @sans-byeol @seokcalibur @belladaises @m1kotsu @nyanwoo @qghosty

[littlecherryhuanlin]

Ghost of You- Nakamoto Yuta

You may like: Love At Dawn with NCT Jaemin

Disclaimer: This story revolves around death (Yuta is a Ghost), so if you don't feel comfortable reading this type of content or believe that some trigger can be activated please don't read.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Mainly fluff, but also contains the use of bad words, morbid themes, explicit angst, bullying, arguments, death of the main character and mentions of a car accident, not recommended for minors.

The crowd of people pushing each other as they walked excitedly through the park, only served to confirm what YN already expected: The Neo House was famous, not that YN has never participated in any of the group's “events” before, far from it; after almost 3 long years of friendship with Haechan, the young woman was even considered an honorary member of the fraternity (according to Jungwoo, who stated the fact after YN rejected Jaehyun for the tenth time during the first year), however, the amount of people in the place was too much even for the Neos, which only pointed out how wrong she was in recommending that the fraternity do something else for the annual event that year, but after all what fault was she in thinking that no one would give in an entire park for a bunch of college kids? Food stalls stretched for meters, fraternity members were spread out working, the whole place was active, packed with hundreds of excited people and even a discount system had been organized for the entire park from the rides to the official stores.

YN couldn't help but let out a sigh as she unsuccessfully searched for an acquaintance; since NingNing had abandoned her as soon as they arrived at the park she had already gotten lost three times while trying to find the agreed meeting point, sending a brief message to Haechan asking him to meet her in front of the red shooting tent, she put her cell phone away and turned to face the large plushies displayed as possible prizes when she heard a voice whisper beside her:

- You lost? - A tall red-haired guy wearing a black jacket was staring at her with a smile on his face waiting for an answer from her which never came- The game, you couldn't win?

- Hmm? – realizing just at the moment that she was staring at him she turned back to the plushies to hide the shade of red painted on her cheeks, he was gorgeous, ethereal if she was honest with her words- oh no, I kind of lost myself and I'm waiting for a friend to pick me up.

- Oh, I understand, so I'll try my luck then - a few minutes passed while the boy kept himself busy in the game and she kept herself busy checking him out and her phone for any answer from her friend - Ok, it seems that your friend ditched u - seeing that the guy had given up on the game and was now staring at her YN nodded in confirmation, making a mental note to kill Haechan the next day- You could come with me- at the sound of the boy's voice she looked up in confusion- Well, it turns out that my friends ditched me too and I don't know about you, but I didn't come here for nothing and since we are both alone now why don't we keep each other company tonight?

- I don't know...- YN looked around to make sure none of her friends were in sight looking for her then she analyzed her options: stand there being judged by everyone passing by, go home and lose all time she'd spent getting dressed and going to the venue or have fun with the handsome stranger— Alright, let's go.

Three hours later as she walked by the boy's side she was sure that was the best choice she had ever made, they went on so many different rides, ate so much and laughed so hard the whole night, she wasn't even sure if she had grabbed his hand on the haunted house or the hurricane, but she definitely wasn't complaining, nor was he, looking extremely comfortable as he dragged her to one of the secluded benches. Shortly as they were seated, he released her hand, and despite wanting to protest she busied herself with feasting on the sweet they'd just acquired, until he came closer, his feline eyes locked on hers, making she anxious, to her, an eternity had passed before he leaned in, soft cherry-flavored lips touching hers, his free hand moving to cup her face, hers pulling at his shirt trying to hold him closer. As they parted he was smiling at her, she almost pulled him back mesmerized by him, low voice bringing her back to reality.

- I've been wanting to do this all night... -she smiled averting her face embarrassed, it was obvious that she wanted the same - did you have fun? - he let out a light laugh seeing the girl shake her head quickly in affirmation while saying that she had never had so much fun in an amusement park before, he took her hand again intertwining their fingers as she leaned on him looking at the stars a comfortable silence settling in- It's late, maybe I can take you home?

YN was close to asking him to do so when her cell phone rang, Haechan's name glowing red on the screen, sending him a silent apology the young woman answered the phone to hear Haechan scream while asking where the hell she was and demand her not to move as he was going to find her.

- Well I guess you'll have to go home alone - she explained after ending the call - my friend is coming to find me right now.

- So - he pulled her away placing a kiss on her forehead - I think it's time for us to part ways princess - he kissed her again, this time a needy kiss completely different from the previous one, full of desire and in a way hungry -  I'll never forget about tonight, my dear.

YN was about to answer him when a distant voice made her turn around, seeing Haechan at far she stood up and called him back, turning to find nothing but anything around, he was gone, not even giving her the chance to ask for his phone number.

- Where did your new friend go?

- I don't know what you were talking about!

- Your body disagrees, you're blushing like crazy.

- I'm tired Haechan, let's go home, pls...

When YN met with the others on Wednesday to help tally the results of the event - fundraising, profits, tickets, and more - everyone was excited and the girl was assigned to sort food along with other "fraternity" girls.

- Did you go home on Saturday YN? - Johnny's girlfriend questioned while helping the girl move some milk cartons.

- Me?

- Uhun, I remember seeing everyone but you.

- Oh no, I was- she stopped to contemplate not sure what she should say, choosing to avoid further questions, she decided to approach the red-haired guy as a friend - with a friend.

- Haechan? - it was Jeno's sister's turn to join the conversation.

- Haechan stayed with the boys all night - said Renjun's girlfriend - as well as YangYang and Jeno.

- What matters - Kun's girlfriend approached, rubbing the girl's shoulders - is if YN had fun.

- It was really fun actually, we did a lot of things that I honestly don't think Haechan would let me do if I was with him.

-Looks like you really enjoyed yourself- Renjun's girlfriend joked when she noticed YN was blushing- so are you going to tell us who your new boyfriend is?

-He's not my boyfriend- YN replied a little louder than she should have, catching the attention of Taeil who was on a phone call, apologizing briefly while reinforcing to the girls that she had absolutely no boyfriend- He was just a friend, I already told you.

- Then tell us which of your friends was with you - the girl continued pressing - why all this secrecy?

- It was just someone I met there - the girl finally let it out noting how a little argument had started between her friends' girlfriends over her - a guy I met after Ningning abandoned me.

- YN you were walking around with a stranger ??- Johnny's girlfriend rejoined the conversation having clearly heard the last part- that's dangerous.

- He didn't look dangerous at all - the whole group was looking at her intently now - he was funny and handsome, very handsome in fact.

- Our YN has a crush - joked Jeno's sister- and what's his name?

- I don't have a crush and I don't know- fuck ,YN wanted to get into a hole, of course, she had to forget to ask his name- I didn't ask...

- You spent all night long with someone and didn't ask their name? -One of the girls asked.

-Oh come on YN, why are you hiding his name? - Renjun's girlfriend asked in an accusing tone - none of us will steal it from you, you know.

Johnny's girlfriend intervened in the joke after seeing YN clearly fidgeting uncomfortably, asking everyone to speed up the work and little by little all of them went back to their tasks, all except Renjun's girlfriend who kept asking questions about the boy. When they all sat down a few hours later to rest that's when YN lost his temper.

- Can you please shut up - the girl said irritated having completely lost her cool under the girl's insinuations - I already told you everything and you keep acting like a dick.

- How the fuck?- the girl barked louder approaching making YN stand up, the others still stunned by the girl's outburst just watched the younger one now with an accusing finger close to YN's face- Listen here, you Lying little bitch, it's not our fault you don't have enough friends to hang out with and need to invent a fake boyfriend to make yourself feel good- the room was now quite crowded with some of the boys who had come to see what the commotion was all about, Jeno's sister pulling the angry girl back while Kun's girlfriend led YN to another room - I'm just curious - she could hear the girl talking loudly - I mean none of us saw her all night and now she says she was with someone that she doesn't even know the name? She's obviously lying.

- I'm not a liar - YN vented in a low tone to the girl who accompanied her - everyone left me alone there and I was just glad to have someone with me that I didn't care about his name.

YN hurriedly ran away with tears in her eyes ignoring Haechan and the others calling out to her as she ran away from the house as fast as she could.

Over two weeks passed with YN completely ignoring any frat people and their relatives, even skipping some classes and keeping her phone off to avoid them. In the meantime the girl had been concentrating on trying to find out who the boy she had been with that night was, she had looked everywhere on social media, on forums and college groups, new and old and nothing. YN had also asked to several students if they knew any guy matching his description, in the end no sign that he was real other than her memories of that night, she was starting to believe that her mind had made it all up when she was cornered by Johnny, Haechan and Taeyong in her apartment on a Friday.

-We just want to talk to you... -Taeyong said while the girl tried to close the door in their faces- YN, please, we're worried!

- I don't need you to feel that way.

- Don't be an asshole YN - Johnny said entering the house followed by the others - You don't answer our calls, don't show up for classes, didn't look for or contact any of us for two weeks!

- We're your friends you brat - Haechan said intervening in the conversation - if that's because of what that weirdo said.

- I wasn't lying and I don't need my friends to accuse me of it either - protested YN interrupting.

-I know you didn't lie I saw you guys together- Haechan said as if it was obvious as he sat on the couch next to Taeyong who gestured for her to do the same- Danm YN, I even teased you about it that night.

-Here- Taeyong handed her a yearbook- we found out you were looking for him while you know we were looking for you- Taeyong opened the book and pointed to a boy apparently Japanese with dark hair, at that moment Johnny put a glass of water in front of her on the coffee table as he sits next to the others - Nakamoto Yuta- the girl gave him a questioning look as she took the book from his hands and took a closer look at the boy's face- Johnny remembered seeing someone similar to the description Haechan gave us in one of the yearbooks while working in the library last year.

- I wasn't sure where exactly it was so it took us a while to find it - said the eldest while eating a snack that she was sure she had hidden earlier.

- What? I looked for him everywhere in the media, in college, and nothing- now analyzing the other pages of the yearbook, YN found herself confused by the dating on the cover- class of 98?- she watched as the boys exchanged strange looks between themselves- I think you guys made a mistake, there's no way this is possible- she decreed- this guy should be on his 40 or something, and I'm telling you I definitely wasn't with an old man that night.

-Look again YN- Haechan leaned over opening the book to the previous page while looking for something on his phone- imagine his hair on a dark red and boom - he almost hit her excitedly pointing a finger at the screen - are you really gonna tell me that this isn't him?

She took the device from his hands, lost between her friend's cell phone and the old photo from the yearbook, she certainly noticed the strange similarities between the boy from the park and the guy from the old pages, she sure did it, but the edited photo on Haechan’s phone who showed off a red-haired Yuta took her to a whole new level of conformation and even though the girl wasn't talking to any of them as she muttered meaningless questions trying to prove to herself that none of that was possible, Taeyong answered her.

-We have a theory - he said gently as he gestured to Johnny who held out his phone to her - please don't make a scandal.

Why would I- YN stood there frozen as a newspaper page dated November 2000 flashed on the screen, "Drunken driver crashes into a college group: Yonsei basketball prodigy among fatalities" despite the shocking headline what left YN terrified was the photo attached to it; Yuta along with a few other students smiling broadly, stunned she looked to her friends for an explanation- Ten did this? -the three of them quickly shook their heads in denial- so who dit it?

- It's a genuine story YN- Taeyong moved to sit next to her- the library lady said she remembered the accident and that we can probably find the original newspaper there, you can check it for yourself if you don't believe it.

-What does this mean? - tears welled up in the girl's eyes as she looked at the older one next to her, Johnny joining them handing her the glass of water while Haechan just stared at the window - did I dream about it or what?

- Or you had a date with a ghost - Haechan faced her friend - had a date with a hot ghost on the day of the dead.

- You're not helping.- the youngest shrugged his shoulders while Johnny took the lead to explain the boy's words- you know it was November 2nd, the day of the dead.

- You see - it was Taeyong who was speaking now having noticed the confusion on the younger's face - this guy is definitely on another plane and in some cultures the day of the dead is the day they can roam freely across the land.

- You went crazy- the girl got up moving away from the boys- A ghost? I was very close to him you know, he was very real, there has to be some kind of misunderstanding here.

- Oh I know, I saw how close you were when he was sticking his tongue down your throat, which just means- Haechan said approaching the girl with a mocking tone- that a ghost almost fucked you cutie.

As soon as the forbidden topic - as Haechan named the girl's date with a ghost (which he'd rather dismiss as funny than admit that he'd been totally freaked out when he found the accident article) - it was closed after lengthy jokes and theories from the boys, the night was filled with delicious snacks and complaints about how she'd tossed them aside because of Renjun's stupid girlfriend. YN felt relieved to have her friends back, however, a couple of hours later the girl found herself sitting on the bed staring at the heavy rain hitting the window while thinking about what had happened.

In fact, a little after the boys left she went into detective mode, and now with a name she had scoured dozens of websites looking for information about the guy, info that she had found and that led her to believe in the theory brought by her friends, which she would definitely never admit to them, despite her exhaustion YN didn't think that she could sleep that night, in fact, she didn't think she would be able to sleep well for a while now.

Please do not copy and translate this work without permission, all creative work is copyrighted and therefore plagiarism is a crime.

©littlecherryhuanlin 2022 - 2023

[dbnightingale24]

You Didn't Have To Say Yes...

A Pete Brenner Love Story

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My first Patreon story!! I decided that Pete needs a love story, cause I feel like he gets shit on a lot. He's not a bad guy, he just has some...bad habits.

Thank you to everyone for your patience (once again), and I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for my amazing moldboard! I love it and I love you! I wrote this in a week (I don't know what's going on with my brain as of late), and I'm really excited for it!

Word Count: 49,380

Warnings: Pete Brenner, Smut, MINORS DNI 18+, Swearing, Daddy Kink, Drinking, Smoking, Drug Use, Angst, Self Hate, Semi-Public Sex (fingering), Open Marriage (Toxic Relationship), Abuse, Fluff, Family Drama, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Abortion ...I think that's it? I'm pretty sure I covered all the bases...yeah

Songs That Inspired This Chapter: If You're Feeling Down, I Just Wanna Make You Happier Baby

Summary: Pete Brenner is perfectly fine with everyone continuing he's a selfish piece of shit. That is, until you walked into his life, and turned everything upside down.

~~

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

“C’mon, give me a smile,” Pete beams, his words tailing a slight slur as you make someone else’s Manhattan.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Mr. Brenner,” you giggle dismissively, flipping your hair and shaking up the cocktail mixer.

“I wonder how much sweeter my name would sound if you were underneath me,” he grins and lifts his eyes at you. You ignore the heat in the pit of your stomach, not wanting to surrender to his smarmy charm.

Pete Brenner doesn’t give up easily, you’ll give him that. 

“I’m sure your wife is happy that you’re always here, trying to bring me home instead of spending time with her,” you nod with a glance towards his left hand. A waitress comes over, picking up the next round of drinks.

“I’ve told ya, she has her fun and I have mine.”

“Cause that’s what every woman loves to hear. Woo me even more, Brenner,” you laugh, turning around and getting started on the next drink.

“Your ass looks amazing in those shorts.”

You laugh as you call over your shoulder, “I’m ordering you a cab.”

“I can take myself,” he mutters with an exasperated sigh. You know he’s pulling out his wallet, frustrated that you’re not leaving with him again.

“We go through the same motions every time, Pete. I don’t want you driving home drunk.”

“You refuse to sleep with me, but you care about my well being? I think you’re finally startin’ to warm up to me.”

“I don’t sleep with married men, Pete. Find a new dream to chase. You know the drill, the cab will be here in ten.”

Pete Brenner came stumbling into your life about a year and a half ago, and he’s been a character since day one. He was down on his luck, drinking until he could barely stand, refusing help from anyone, always ending with the same mantra every night:

“I’ve made this fucking far on my own, I can make it to my own fucking house!”

No matter how much you pushed, he wouldn’t accept help from you. He always refused service from everyone except you. At first he didn’t say anything, he just watched you and let his eyes roam over your body. He never said out loud that he wanted you, but he didn’t exactly go out of his way to hide it either. He was so obvious he never needed to say it explicitly. The glint of his gold wedding band always caught your attention under the sparkling lights of the nightclub, but seeing as he spent every night there until closing, you didn’t think it made much of a difference.

Until one night, eight months ago.

“There she is! My favorite girl!” he beamed, a cocky smile cemented on his lips.

The woman sauntering next to him didn’t seem to think too highly of the nickname he called you. 

“I’ll take a bourbon, and this sweet little thing next to me will have a Strawberry Daiquiri,” he told you, though his eyes never left your chest.

“Oh? Wedding anniversary?” you half smiled as you tried to put on your workplace happy face even though you mentally thought to yourself ‘he can’t be that sleazy to bring her to this dump on their wedding anniversary.’

“Got a new job, sweetheart,” he smirked. You didn’t miss the mischievous shine in his eyes in the club’s half light.

He was a bold mother fucker to bring his wife along just to flirt with you in plain view of her. Not many men had that much audacity when it came to you. 

“I’m Y/N,” you offered with a smile.

You genuinely pitied the woman.

“Tina,” she responded with a plastic smile.

Big boobs, micro-waist, big fake blonde hair, and Pete had ordered her a strawberry daiquiri. She fit the description of most “Tina’s” that came into the club. However, the large rock on her ring finger was nothing to scoff at.

“Oh, don’t pout, honey,” Pete taunted her. “This is what you wanted, right? Me to get a brand new important job and show you off? That’s what you’ve been bitchin about for months, isn’t it? So smile, would ya? You got ya wish.”

Someone was feeling prickly that night.

“First round of drinks are on the house. Congrats, Pete,” you smiled as you set both drinks down.

“Keep ‘em comin’, sweetheart,” he winked at you, handing you a hundred.

While it may have not been anything new to you (Pete always tipped generously), Tina’s eyes went wide and you didn’t miss the way her cheeks burned and blushed with anger.

You wanted to stay as far away from them as the night allowed.

You happily took shots with some of your regulars as the night went on and evened out. Your friends started showing up for their shifts, which helped your sour mood from earlier in the day (even though your ex-fiancee showed up outside of your apartment to harass you yet again). The more you drank, the more you started to dance along with the music; which meant Pete couldn’t keep his gaze off you.

“Why are you single?” Pete asked once his wife got up to go to the bathroom.

“You don’t strike me as the cruel type, Mr. Brenner,” you grinned as you made him another drink.

“Curiosity doesn’t equate to cruelty.”“You’re still here with your wife.”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

“Why’d you bring her tonight?”

“You heard me, this is what she wanted,” he cynically scoffed.

“They’re a lot nicer clubs than this one.”

“Can’t all be that nice if you don’t work there, sweetie.”

You both looked at each other for a moment before you heard, “Darlin’!” coming from the other end of the bar.

“Comin’ Charlie,” you laughed, breaking the stare with him, and shook your head. You used the bar to push yourself off away, down to it’s other end while Pete sipped the last of his remaining drink.

You didn’t need glasses to see that Pete Brenner was an attractive man, and he was important...well, he did his best to imply his importance (as if it would get him far with you). You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about going a few rounds with him in the bedroom, but you didn’t sleep with married men. 

No matter how hard they tried, you had a set of both personal and professional rules that you abided by.

For the rest of the night, you stayed away from Pete and his wife unless they needed a refill. It was almost as if Tina was trying to make him regret his choice of celebration because she was throwing back her drinks like they were water. The night went smoothly enough, nevertheless, until you went outside for a smoke break.

“You should really quit those things,” came the voice of the last man you wanted to see or hear from.

“What do you want, Mark?”

“I come in peace, Sweet Thing,” he laughed, putting his hands up.

You’d always hated the nickname.

“Didn’t get enough arguing this morning? What else could you possibly have to say?” you questioned while you exhaled your frustration.

“You know you miss me, baby.”

“I miss the peace I had in my life before I met you.”

“You’re still working at this dump?”

“I have bills to pay.”

“You know I’d be more than happy to take care of you.”“Don’t want it. Nor do I want anything from you,” you snapped with a growl.

“Yet you drove yourself here in the car I bought for you,” he sneered, nodding in the direction of where the car was parked.

“Take the fucking car back then, Mark. If it means you’ll leave me the fuck alone, take back every single thing you ever gave me.”

Snickering, he made his way to you and grabbed your arm saying,“don’t be bitter when I know just how sweet you’re capable of being.”

With a scoff, you threw down your cigarette and bludgeoned it, “fuck this.”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Enough with the goddamn attitude, Sweet Thing-”

“Let me go!”

“You’re coming with me-”

“Let her go!” you heard Pete yell as he quickly made his way over to you, leaving his wife to stumble to their car all alone.

She looked slack jawed from Pete to you, before her stare turned venomous and settled on you. It’s just what you needed on top of everything else; his prized Barbie play-toy thinking you were fucking her husband. 

Great.

~~

Read the rest of the story here

[djeniryuu]

09 aug 23 - updated the fic recs list for Chan and Minho! ❤️ link to masterlist here!

Bang Chan Fic Recs:

DRABBLES/SHORT STORIES

ONESHOTS (A-M)

ONESHOTS (N-Z)

SERIES

Lee Know Fic Recs:

ONESHOTS

SERIES

[1uvtae]

i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook

★ word count: 10k- yay!

★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!

★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.

★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!

enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.

you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.

but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)

this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening. 

when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.

blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest. 

you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!

you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. additionally, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.

he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well. 

but on the other hand…

he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.

you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.

oh, the long, dark night.

after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.

when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face. 

thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex. 

thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. 

after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number. 

you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is. 

once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.

on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.

you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?” 

your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name. 

after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots. 

continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”

you moved, or did you come back?

just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface. 

“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back” 

did he quit his job?

although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.

yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”

you: i think i saw him recently

you: he’s still so fine 

yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week

you: yes please, i’m free every night this week

yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.

you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?

yerin: i know you way too well

yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner

you: hm

yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.

you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.

to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.

huh? be prepared for what?

when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.

you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him. 

yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.” 

you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin,  then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”

(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)

you hope it’s not the second option.

the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.

“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile. 

you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass. 

you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.

the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.

after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.

that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.

after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.

taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.

yerin: jungkook’s here

you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond. 

y/n: huh? why is he there?

yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours

yerin: u coming?

you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.

yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering

hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-

yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him

yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged

yerin: not his gf

yerin: u still have a chance yk!!

you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table. 

just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.

having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex)  might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.

oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole. 

but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?

every cloud has a silver lining.

and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”

yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”

he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.

all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.

judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.

jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.

you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”

he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.

jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window. 

the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.

jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again. 

he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage. 

jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.

he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!

you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand. 

it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.

he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.

even being able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.

jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.

by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.

he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”

your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.

jungkook: “y/n?”

his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.

jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.

and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.

he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!

but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch. 

he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.

considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones. 

you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you. 

the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.

jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night. 

honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.

painful, very painful.

it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch. 

jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?! 

you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n. 

if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.

but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him? 

and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.

this can be a fun game to play.

you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.

you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up. 

jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting. 

if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?

after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?” 

his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance. 

you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution. 

feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”

not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door. 

wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.

you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.

although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.

y/n: can i pick bam up from yours

he replied almost instantly: and you are?

you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n

then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”

you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning. 

but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.

the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)

jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well. 

it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it. 

he’s literally hooked for you.

he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.” 

after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”

you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested. 

jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you. 

you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace. 

you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”

“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”

you nodded your head. “sure.”

“...do you want to those off then?”

“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.

it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded. 

jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment. 

you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”

you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”

“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.” 

you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.” 

your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?

but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?” 

your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”

you like the sound of that.

this is something you could get used to.

jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.

you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook. 

after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower. 

after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”

jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.

you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want

jungkook: ……i’m not that gross

as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.

as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.

you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out. 

your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.

no answer. 

you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”

“are you not at home?” 

he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”

you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.” 

“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”

you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”

the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.” 

he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.

bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.

it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men. 

he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.

you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake. 

instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…) 

after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that. 

the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart by wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.

you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.

“but it’s itchy.”

“patient.”

you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.

jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps. 

you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching. 

“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it. 

when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button. 

you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp. 

you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other. 

plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.

talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. not to remind you, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.

you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.

the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.

yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.

arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.

you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.

you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.

yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now. 

out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook. 

still no acknowledgement from him.

finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.

the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it. 

you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.

as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”

the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.

jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.

when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.” 

you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”

yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”

you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”

yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”

“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”

you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.

the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.

he responded with a boyish smile.

and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.

driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards. 

an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.

this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.

when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.

you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.

jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.

eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.

you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.

right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath. 

jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.

but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door. 

he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.

you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.” 

…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”

carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.

he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention-  your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration. 

jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.

but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare. 

jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”

“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer. 

a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”

in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.

you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.

after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”

he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention to simply just sleep with me ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”

you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed. 

in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.

“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.” 

“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”

“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.

jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him. 

it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.

if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t.

he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t. 

“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”

jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk. 

he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”

“yeah.”

jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved. 

“what now?”

you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”

looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent. 

“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.

“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.

but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her forwardly and blatantly the first night when he drove her home after dinner. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act this way to piss you off. 

you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”

after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.

“one won’t be enough.”

“give me an amount then.”

“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.

i will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.

his other hand reached for your earlobe.

after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time. 

you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different. 

it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!

occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.

but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him. 

one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”

“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”

“right.”

“i think i want to talk some things out.”

thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it. 

“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again. 

at least, this time it's in person, right?

right?

he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt. 

“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”

was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.

“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”

you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.

the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment. 

to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought. 

you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.” 

“that was all my honest words!!!”

“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs. 

it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.

his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days. 

“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”

“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.

jungkook smirks against your neck, 

way, way more. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 1 — I’m Just Dreaming Of Tearin’ You Apart

⛸️ Summary: Practicing for the Spring Championship preliminaries with your longtime crush wasn’t something you expected and neither was being treated to coffee by the man you despised most in the world, yet both happened in the span of a week. Besides figure skating competitions and hockey games, your best friends created a game of their own involving money and your love life.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers, but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst, fluff

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), a lot of swearing, petnames (princess), mention of drugs and sex in a joking manner, use of alcohol, chaotic friendship, friendly fights, a lot of side-characters, mingi is a bit of a dick, MDNI!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.5K

⛸️ Author's note: I'm finally uploading this!! I know I said it was going to be an oneshot, but I wrote too much to post it all in one go so I decided to make it into a mini-series instead. There will be five parts to Cold Hands, Warm Heart and I'll upload every Friday starting from today. It's crazy to think I've been writing this whole thing since October last year, like what?!

The first part is more of an introduction to all the characters and me easing you into the plot rather than starting off too strong with the main pairing, so there isn't a lot of scenes with Mingi, but there will be plenty in the future. Anyway, I won't keep you for too long! Enjoy and tell me your thoughts ❤️

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is not for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights, and adult language. Minors, please refrain from reading or interacting with this work!!!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

The sound of blades against ice and the smell of a freezer empty of food brought you great comfort, and it continued to do so for a century and a half. The ice rink was your second home — not the college or your grandma’s house — heck, you could maneuver the place better than your own home. Abel Korzeniowski’s Charms blasted pleasantly through the speakers in the hall as you stood in the middle of the ice with your hands raised and knees slightly bent. The arena was completely empty, which wasn’t anything weird considering it was six AM on a Monday. You slowly moved across the ice in sync to the music, leaving all your thoughts and worries in the parking lot outside. There were only you and the ice. 

As the music gradually picked up its pace, you began doing light spins and jumps. You imagined the arena to be packed with people, their excited eyes following your elegant figure, and cheers going off like cannons after every stunt. In tune with the music reaching its turning point, you propelled yourself up and spun in the air, only for the melody to be abruptly cut off. A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

You masked the expression of hurt and threw a glare towards the music booth planted between the penalty boxes. Rephrasing, you threw a glare at the guy inside the music booth. If there was anything figure skating couldn’t help you with, it was Song Mingi, the right defenceman of the Blue Wolves and the biggest douchebag known to mankind. The mankind in question was you.

“Piss off, Song. The rink is booked until 10 AM.”

The large man leaned into the mic, a smug grin on his stupidly handsome face, “Can’t do sweetheart. We have an upcoming match against the Red Tigers, so we need to practice.”

In three strokes you reached the worn out glass separating you two. 

“Listen here, punk,” you breathed out a cloud of fog. “I don’t care what you have or when you have it; the rink is occupied, so take your little pack of chihuahuas and fuck off!” 

Mingi made himself comfortable on the chair, hands intertwined behind his neck and long legs perched up on the desk. He was not going anywhere unless it was on that ice.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until you’re done.” 

“Wait, wait! He said what?!” 

In the midst of retelling the events of your morning, you were interrupted by Keeho. Everything about his judging tone told you he was more than disgusted at the new piece of information and a peek at his face — lips slightly curled, front teeth exposed, and eyes squinted — confirmed your suspicion. Keeho was very vocal with his opinions, vocal and bold, and you picked up on that in the short time you got to know him. That’s why you weren’t surprised to see his hands resting on his hips, adding that sprinkle of sass you both loved and despised. 

“Yes!” You exclaimed exasperatedly and bit into your spring roll. 

Choi Dasom, your roommate and childhood best friend, wore her signature sweet smile that made her cheeks chubbier and outshone her fiery red hair. She, unlike you and Keeho, was delighted to hear about your terrible morning, especially at the mention of the one-who-shall-not-be-named. 

“Wipe that grin off your face, Dasom.”

You squinted at her overly happy expression. There was no malice to your words and if it weren’t for your ten year long friendship she wouldn’t have mustered up an even bigger smile, showing off her pearly whites and dimples. No one could ever be mean to Dasom, one look at her round face and sparkly eyes, and they’d be wrapped around her pinky like a phone cord. She was just that cute. If they somehow managed to look past her cuteness then they'd have to deal with you or Keeho and that was never a pleasant outcome. 

The three of you sat criss crossed on the floor of your and Dasom’s shared apartment. An array of takeaway boxes littered the usually clean room as you caught up on each other’s lives; in other words, they listened to your venting about a specific hockey player.

“I just don’t see how this connects to your broken phone screen,” Keeho said and mentioned to the device beside you, sneakily hastening you to get to the ‘juicy part’ as he referred to it. 

Too blinded by the simmering anger you waltzed right into Keeho’s trap, granting him new gossip worthy material. Not that he had anyone to share it with besides the two of you, but he liked knowing everyone’s business, something you swore would come and bite him in the ass sooner or later.

“Well, my dear Keeho, wait til you hear the rest of the story.”

The heel of Mingi’s foot hit your phone, hurling it to the ground. A taunting ‘oops’ fell from his lips, but he stayed seated. 

“Are you kidding me!” You shouted from inside the rink. 

In a flash you were beside Mingi, inspecting your phone for any injuries. A big, singular crack stretched from one end of the screen to the other and you could feel invisible steam erupt from your ears. The phone survived so many concrete collisions and water incidents, but it obviously had to break at Mingi’s hand (or feet).

“Oh, did it crack?” 

Mingi stood up, eyes cast on the screen and hands shoved into his gray sweatpants. Not an ounce of concern or remorse crossed his features and you didn’t know what made you more angry - his nonchalance or mere presence.

“Did it crack? Did it crack?!”

“Alright, no need to shout.”

You knew after a full year of constant bickering and mean pranks that Mingi wasn’t all that well. Maybe he got one too many blows to the head, suffered far more concussions than convenient, who knew? 

You tried giving him the benefit of the doubt multiple times, which proved to be useless, and it took a broken screen for you to finally realize that. A curse so foul it would have his ancestors turning in their graves rested on your tongue, but as you opened your mouth, a puck aimed at your head was flung at the plexiglas, shutting you up in an instant. The same heinous laughs from earlier echoed around you, this time from inside the rink.

You stood there, phone in hand, and hopelessly stared at the sight before you.

Mingi watched the whole thing play out and didn't say a thing. Not that he had much to say, it was his idea from the start. The guys wouldn't stop complaining about you hogging the ice and the least he could do for his team was to get you off. That way he could also get his daily dose of prancing on your nerves. 

It was like killing two birds with one stone. 

Until he awkwardly stood there, contemplating whether to apologize or serve you with another snarky reply. 

He ran his hand through his ashy blonde hair. All the thinking was starting to tire him out and he just wanted to put on his skates and blow some steam off. You were being unfair. They needed the rink more than you, but you just couldn’t be nice and give in for once. 

“No hard feelings, princess.”

“Wow, he really is a dick,” Keeho muttered while examining your phone. “Well, I mean, we already knew that, but I didn’t think he’d be that much of a dick.”

You hummed in agreement as he passed the device to Dasom. 

“No, I’ve always known and I’ve been telling you guys so for the past year but no one listens to me.”

“Hey! I do and I’ve always agreed with you; it’s Dasom who’s being poetic and shit.”

The girl giggled at Keeho’s bluntness. “I’m not being poetic, Kyo. I just think there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

You and Keeho exchanged knowing glances, emotionless eyes and lips set into firm lines, silently agreeing she was tuning into her artistic side. Her smile, bright as ever, didn’t falter, and she simply shrugged before slurping down the last of her food. Keeho clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and flickered her forehead. 

“Wow, what happened to common decency? Table manners, hello?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. I saw you spit out that chicken,” you butted in with a roll of your eyes.

“It was all rubbery and– ugh. I can’t swallow that!” He defended himself while pointing at the overly chewed piece of chicken on his plate and pushing it closer to your face. You flinched back and hurled, the noise activating Dasom too, and soon you were all in a never-ending fit of retching.

“It’s the last time I let you bring a friend into our circle!” 

You recalled the day Dasom introduced you to Keeho and you’ve regretted it ever since, but there were moments you actually found joy in his company and they served as a reminder of why you put up with him in the first place. At the end of the day you still agreed to have study sessions at the library with his nose in a thick literature book and your fingers dancing across your keyboard.

“Can you, I don’t know, not abuse your laptop like that? I can’t concentrate with your loud fingers.”

“You sure it isn’t your thoughts keeping you distracted? I mean, I’d be too if my voice was that annoying.”

Keeho gifted you his signature glare, which you grew immune to. “Okay, first of all ouch and second of all, fuck you, my voice is not annoying or loud for that matter either.”

“Then go back to your reading.”

“I can’t,” he whined and closed his book with a thud, then slid his arm over the table, his cheek resting against his bicep with a pout.

A mere two hours passed since you met up outside the coffee shop closest to the university and not once did he shut up. From ordering your drinks to finding an empty table in the library his mouth worked and at first you saw it as a good thing, thinking he’d run out of things to talk about by the time you started studying. That lasted for about three hundred words in your essay.

“Keeho-ya, go back to reading. We still have some time before your shift starts.”

“I knooooow, but I’m tired and this shit’s boring me out.” 

You threw a quick glance at the book he was referring to, Animal Farm, and for once you understood him. The piece wasn’t the most interesting literature in the world and Keeho wasn’t that hard to entertain so it was pretty shit. Books based on real-life stories or romance themed novels were his favorites; anything other than that was a no-go and wouldn’t keep him occupied for more than five minutes.

“Why can’t we read The Outsiders instead? It’s so much better and more realistic. Like, when are pigs ever overthrowing the government?”

You snorted and pushed your laptop aside, taking the book in your hands. The cover did little to lure you in and it was no surprise that Keeho found it boring. He was like a child, giving his undivided attention to anything flashy and colorful. You quickly flipped through the pages and nearly passed out at the never-ending words before putting it back down. 

“I’m pretty sure Orwell’s talking about the Russian Revolution back in the nineteen-hundred and the pigs are supposed to represent Trotsky and Stalin.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s still boring and doesn’t really call out to me.” 

You hummed in understanding, “You don’t have much of a choice, Kyo. Read it or don’t; you’ll still have to write an essay about it.”

Keeho whined in agony and smacked his forehead against the table, once, twice and on the third smack you hit the back of his head with the book. He jerked back up and rubbed the spot you just whacked, his hand running through his black hair, doing little to soothe the pain.

“What was that for?!”

The librarian, a woman old enough to be your grandmother, shushed him from her desk. Icy eyes were shooting daggers through her half-rimmed glasses and if it weren’t for her age Keeho would challenge her with a glare of his own.

“What was that for?” He repeated but in a whisper, glancing between you and the librarian, checking to see if she heard him now.

“To get you motivated. Now, read,” you hissed and turned back to your work, purposely ignoring the stare of Ms. Bang. She wanted you to shush, then you’d damn well stay shushed.

Keeho sighed obnoxiously and stilled as his gust of air reached your face, but you held your ground and played it off as nothing. You knew if you showed any sign of irritation he’d just continue to annoy you until you caved in and left for the day. With your determination you managed to stay rooted to your seats for a while and if it weren’t for Keeho’s yelp about being late to work, you’d probably be there a little longer. Hastily you threw your stuff in your bag and ran out of the library with Keeho in tow. You didn’t miss the scowling look of Ms. Bang. Knowing she didn’t sign up to deal with annoying brats when applying for her job, you offered her a tight-lipped smile as an apology.

“Tell Dasom I need her help after work!” Keeho shouted and sprinted down the street, not bothering to wait for the reply you still gave him.

“Text her yourself!”

Nonetheless you whipped out your phone and as you were about to unlock it, your eyes fell on the four digitals showing 11:50 AM. A low ‘shit’ slipped past your lips and identical to Keeho, you took off running towards the training facility. 

If you weren’t dressed and ready for practice in the next ten minutes, it’d be better if you never showed up. Your coach had a set of ground rules he established the moment you were assigned his trainee fifteen years ago.

Come on time, be presentable and ready.

Have a clear and motivated attitude. 

And most important of all, trust your coach.

Jung Hoseok, your coach, wasn’t stern per se. He was a really sweet and kindhearted man who taught you everything you knew about figure skating — from gliding backwards to your first upright spin — you owed this man everything. Although he had a kind soul, a heart shaped smile and dimpled cheeks, you knew better than to defy him. After all, it wasn’t his thoughtful persona that brought him success. Courage, discipline and taking risks did. 

Summoning all the cardio exercises done in life, you managed to turn the seven minute journey into five, sparing enough time to change into your practice clothes and skates. The October wind did little to prepare you for the chilly temperature inside; your nose, cheeks and ears were painfully cold despite the thick scarf wrapped around your head.

“In time as usual,” Hoseok commented as you walked out of the changing room, a whistle dangling down his neck and eyes cast on the clipboard in his hands.

“I’d never dare be late for your practice, Coach.”

“And I take pride in that. Now get on the ice, we have a lot to do.”

With that you took off your pink guards and did a little stretching. Routinely you wiped your hands down your thighs, you liked to imagine it as a way of leaving any misfortune off the rink. It was a silly thing you did years ago and it stuck with you since then.

“Again!”

The rite must have lost its charm because everything was going to shit. Not once did you finish the whole number, messing it up halfway through and being forced to go from the top only to fail on the same part.

You huffed out a clouding breath of air and skated back to the center of the rink. Mr. Jung watched you from the sidelines, sporting a frown so big you wanted to cry. His nose faced the ceiling and his arms crossed over his chest. It wasn’t a good sign, how could it be when you were messing up big time? You shied away from his piercing eyes and took your stance, one arm elegantly thrown over your head that followed its direction. The other hand was professionally relaxed by your side and legs steady on the blades. You started slowly just as the video showed you a handful of times. Gliding backwards and forwards, your arms moved in swirls as you gradually picked up the pace. The first jump wasn’t anything extravagant, a simple triple-toe loop. 

Easy, you thought after landing and prepared yourself for the next takeoff. 

The video you watched with Mr. Jung showed a recording of him doing the Salchow jump going straight into a sit-spin as the music quickened. 

It was hard to move to the sound of nothing besides your own breathing and blades scraping against the ice. With music you could at least time yourself better and get lost in the world of imagination. You held your breath as you pushed up from the ice with your right foot, doing a light spin and landing on your other blade then snapped into a sitting position with your left leg connected to the ground. The other was stretched out with its heel facing outward and your arms stacked on top of each other straight out in front of you. After the sixth spin you graciously straightened out your skating leg and stood up, arms moving to your chest and then forward again as you checked out. 

You continued sliding around the rink, building up tension and fully catching the attention of the imaginary audience. Your dominant foot continued facing forward and the other turned in the opposite direction, legs squatting to form a square. The core of your body flexed as you arched your back, creating a ‘C’ with your whole being. Cold kisses ghosted along your neck and ears, fingers an inch from the ground. With little to no effort you snapped back into an upright position and prepared yourself for the highlight of the choreography — the part you couldn’t land — a triple axel. The second you saw Mr. Jung’s number, you knew you’d be struggling. You were a good skater, but not a magician. A triple axel would take a lot more than some wishful thinking and an hour of practice.

Did that knowledge lighten the burden on your shoulders? Not in the slightest.

Nonetheless you approached the jump with confidence, the key to every success in life, and  prepared yourself to jump. With a steady breath and enough speed you kicked up from the ice and rotated in the air; once, twice, and three times before gravity pulled you down, starting the landing phase. The blade of your skates skimmed the ice and just as you thought you had landed it, you became one with the ground. 

Your thigh took the majority of the fall, but it still hurt and if you didn’t know any better you’d think your femur was broken. With shaky legs you stood back up on your skates. A whispered curse slipped out as you rubbed your knuckles along your thigh. You didn’t know what hurt more; falling or failing. The sound of a whistle cut through the arena before you could take your starting position. You halted in place and turned to Mr. Jung who held the same solemn expression throughout the whole number. The walk from the center to him was short and your lips pursed in disappointment. He was cutting practice short. It rarely happened, some days you’d even go over time. 

“We’ll stop there for today. I’ll send you the choreography. Study it thoroughly and come mentally prepared next time because we’re not quitting til you land it.”

You fiddled with your fingers and nodded at his words. 

“Great, get some rest until then, yeah?” 

“I’ll stay a little longer.”

He raised a brow, slightly surprised at your spirit. After your last fall he was sure you’d be frustrated beyond belief, too tired to continue and too angry to give up. He smacked his lips, “Alright, one hour tops. Don’t overwork yourself. Resting is a slow way to success but it’s still a way.”

Before Mr. Jung completely took his leave, he turned to you one more time. “I’ll be back to take my things. If you’re still here by then I’ll make sure you don’t attend the competition at all, understood?”

You jumped into a military stance, back straight and fingers pushed against the side of your head.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

You deflated the moment his figure disappeared behind the big metal doors. After fifteen years of skating under his watchful eyes, you knew his threat wasn’t an empty promise. Leave it to Mr. Jung to make you anxious about the competition months before D-Day. You squished your cheeks between your hands and delivered two slaps to each side of your face.

“C’mon, focus.” 

Ten tries, ten fails and ten bruises later zero progress was made. One would think you’d do better without Mr. Jung’s breathing down your neck like a dragon, but there you were barely landing a single axel. You were one fail away from ripping your hair out.

“Fuck me sideways. What the fuck is my problem?”

Skating with a jumbled mind would do you no good, so with a quick breathing practice you pushed all your thoughts aside and tried again. You swore it would be your last try before going home. 

Starting position. Triple-toe loop. Salchow jump into a sit-spin. Double axel. 

The muscles in your thighs and abdomen burned, begging you to stop. Before you could plummet to your knees and throw a mini-tantrum, clapping sounds echoed in the silent hall. You jerked your head up with a scowl on your face. The person had to be taunting you; nothing about that was applause worthy.

The last person you expected to encounter on a Tuesday afternoon, let alone receive praise from, was Hwang Hyunjin. The prettiest guy on campus. He looked just like the day you first saw him, unbelievably handsome. The top half of his black hair was hiding beneath a beanie; the rest fell to his neck and some strands obscured his face. A face sculpted by Phidas himself. Pink plump lips, big eyes and a slim nose. Taking in his relaxed form, eyes quickly roving over his broad chest and down to his slim waist, you thanked the heavens that he wasn’t your coach. You wouldn’t survive one session with him leaning against the border, hands gripping the border and veins appearing on his pale forearms, eyes trailing after you. 

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as he waved. The charming smile he gave you warmed your cheeks as a smile of your own grew. It was no wonder girls swooned over him, he truly was beautiful and this was him dressed in a simple black shirt and tights. He looked even better dressed up. Inching closer to where he was, you grabbed the railing and held onto it for dear life. Your legs wobbled like Bambi on ice and you weren’t ready to fall flat on your ass in front of your crush and fellow figure skater. A timid ‘hi’ fell from your lips and your heart landed a perfect triple axel as he greeted you back.

“Your program is great.”

You giggled like a schoolgirl and bashfully looked away, and then back at him again. “It’s not even near what it’s supposed to look like.”

This was the most you said to each other in the span of a year. You never did much talking besides polite ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ coming and going from the rink yet you knew more about him than your childhood best friend.

“Really?”

You mustered up a nod, afraid to embarrass yourself with words.

“Do you mind if I join you then?”

Whatever you did in your past life to earn this must have been something noble, perhaps serving a king or saving a village from starvation. You nodded again, your lips perking up and eyes shining with excitement. As Hyunjin faced away from you to put his skates on, you buried your head in your hands and bit back a worrisome squeal.

“By the way I’m not like doing this to coach you or anything. I just thought you looked a bit… distracted and could use some help to loosen up.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I could really use the help, coach or not.”

He huffed a soft chuckle at your honesty and skated to the center of the rink with you behind. 

“I’m happy to be of service.” 

He mockingly bowed and you allowed yourself to laugh, feeling your whole body heat up despite the cool arena air.

“Okay, so put this on.” 

Hyunjin handed you his beanie and your eyes widened as the rest of his hair fell around his face. You wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. You gently pinched the black material between your hands — even his clothes were soft to the touch — and put it on. Hyunjin hummed as it covered your ears and head, then he gingerly reached out and pushed it over your eyes. 

“Can you see anything?”

“No.”

“Perfect. Just stay right there,” he said, his blades cutting the surface grew more and more distant by the second. There was a lot of trust put in his hands and you were starting to feel foolish, standing there like a stick figure with an expensive cap covering your sight.

“Do you hear me?”

Your head snapped towards his voice and you nodded. 

“Okay, come find me.”

The whole time you cautiously moved along the slippery ice you couldn’t help but think how silly it must look for outsiders. You conclude that if it weren’t for Hyunjin and your stuttering heart, you’d never agree to this. He continued speaking out in the open, some sentences long and others consisting of a word or two. Getting the hang of skating blindfolded you sped up, arms stretched out in case of toppling over and as you were about to give up, your left hand came in contact with a warm surface.

Hastily you snatched the hat off your head and blinked fast at the bright lightning. Your heart stilled as you looked into Hyunjin’s scrunched eyes, a wide and dare you say proud smile overtaking his features. The cold air nipped at his rosy cheeks and nose, even his ears, and your fingers itched to cover them. 

“Found me,” he chuckled at your struck expression, parted lips and raised brows. “Wanna go again?”

The game continued for a few more rounds and with every new try you channeled your concentration better. On top of that you trusted your other senses to get you across the ice without flying head first. Best of all you weren’t as flustered around Hyunjin anymore. The eye contact lasted longer and you weren’t a stuttering mess. The last round was going great. It was your fastest game yet. As Hyunjin called your name you thrusted your arm out, practically flinging yourself forward. Your fingers clasped around the air and not the warmth of Hyunjin’s body you expected. A panicked gasp died in your throat as your feet flew under you and back gravitated towards the ground. You braced yourself — as much as one could do — for a concussion. Instead of feeling the hard ground, arms wrap around you. One hand resting between your shoulder blades and the other on your lower back.

“Gotcha,” Hyunjin whispered.

On instinct you grabbed his shoulders and pulled yourself closer to him, chests nearly touching and noses inches away. You could see a faint beauty mark below his eye, a feature you hadn’t known of before and heat rose to your cheeks at the sudden proximity. 

“You good?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out as he moved you upright, his hands respectfully resting against your hips while yours slid around his neck. Your head turned downward, too nervous to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth, but you didn’t get to hear what he had to say as an agitating voice beat him to it.

“So the princess finally found her prince.”

You jumped from Hyunjin’s hold, his hands falling to his sides, creating a space big enough for two other people between you with your head whipping towards the entrance where a familiar figure stood, tall and bulky. The sly smirk painting his chiseled face was a sharp contrast to your scowling lips and wrinkled nose.

“And I see you’ve yet to find your manners.”

Something about Song Mingi brought out the devil in you. 

“You just have to ask nicely or is that too hard for you?”

The fifteen equally bulky guys all dressed in red and black gear behind him laughed at his remark. Children, they were a bunch of children. 

You threw them a glare they were more than acquainted with and in a poor attempt at masking your embarrassment, you kept your head down and stomped out of the rink, and walked through the group of guys that separated like a shoal of fish afraid of a great white shark. With record speed you grabbed your stuff and bolted for the changing rooms. Not once did you stop to think about the beautiful figure skater you left behind as your mind was occupied with intriguing images of delivering punches to the whole hockey team, starting from the shortest to the tallest. 

Bag slung over your shoulder and hands tucked deep in the pockets of your jacket, you strutted out of the arena. There was no way you’d head home now. Dasom had a group project she’d work on until late and you didn’t feel like being alone knowing the violent sound of bodies colliding and pucks sliding across ice would taunt you in the silence.

The bell above the ice cream parlor dinged as you stepped inside. The pleasant smell of freshly baked cones and vanilla extract hit you hard. The customers inside brushed you off, too immersed in their milkshakes and desserts to care about a girl with a scowl. 

“Hello and welcome to Kim’s ice cream parlor. How can I help you this fine ev– what the hell are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, Kyo,” you greeted, dropping your bag on the floor by the counter seats. 

“Bad practice?”

“Try a bad day.”

You propped your elbows on the desk and tiredly leaned your chin on the palms of your hands. Keeho hummed, already preparing your usual order.

“Y’know I’m always up for some tea, but Jiung called in sick today so we’re one man short.”

You tried your best not to visibly deflate. The one time you needed to vent and get it out of your system no one was there. 

“That’s okay. S’nothing a banana split can’t fix, I guess.”

“Coming right up, sweetcheeks. It’s on the house just for you.”

New customers filled the little shop and you noticed your presence by the counter was still distracting Keeho so you did everyone a big favor and moved to a vacant seat by the big windows. The ice cream went down your throat and found its new home in your stomach. You’d usually be more strict with your food intake, having to be a certain weight and whatnot but some days just couldn’t be helped, especially when practice left you feeling like the biggest failure in the world and if that wasn’t enough then Mingi’s presence was a good enough reason to treat yourself.

Before taking your leave you sent Keeho a smile; he reciprocated and positioned his hand up to his cheek, the thumb and pinky finger extended in opposite directions. You chuckled at the gesture but nodded nonetheless. One way or another Keeho would end up hearing about your shitty day.

“Hello,” you called out as you gently threw your keys in the strawberry-shaped bowl — a housewarming gift by yours truly, Yoon Keeho — on the console table by the entrance.

“I’m in the kitchen!” 

You carelessly shrugged your coat off, allowing it to drop to the floor by your shoes and bag, before running off in her direction. Dasom softly hummed to a song playing on her laptop and you immediately relaxed as the melody reached your ears. There wasn’t a dent of worry in her life and you were grateful for that. At least one of you was in a good mood.

“Hey Dae-Dae,” you exhaled and plopped down on one of the four chairs around your dining table. 

Dasom wore a pink apron decorated with a big white heart over her knitted sweater and jeans, with a pair of matching mittens covering her hands. The apron was more for show than shielding her clothes from baking. 

“I’m baking cookies.” 

Minutes later you were sitting on the kitchen floor with a big plate of chocolate chip cookies between you and a cup of milk each. You picked up a cookie and moaned at its aroma of caramelized sugar and chocolate. Nevermind the banana split you inhaled twenty minutes ago, you were treating yourself for the rest of the night.

“How did the project go?” 

Dasom took a long sip of her milk trying to hide the way her lips curled upward. You nudged her thigh with your toe and wiggled your brows. 

“It’s exciting, a bit out of my comfort zone, but it’s still fun. We are actually working with the art majors. Everyone’s partnered with someone from the opposite class.” She dipped a cookie in her cup before continuing, “So the art majors have to write a poem about passion while we, creative writing majors, have to paint it.” 

“So the roles are reversed and how are you being graded on that exactly? Like no offense Dasom, but you kind of suck at drawing.”

“See that’s what I thought too, but the professors said we shouldn’t focus on how good our drawings are, but rather what it is we try to convey. Plus, they said we are paired up for a reason, so I guess we are supposed to ask each other for help?”

You hummed in understanding, it made more sense when she put it that way. “So who are you partnered with?”

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“The weird guy with the blue hair?”

“It’s black and white now, and he’s not weird, just… unobtrusive. Hongjoong’s actually kind,” she defended.

“Mmm, I don’t know Dae-Dae, it sounds awfully close to what you say about Mingi.”

Her invisible dog ears perked up and her tail wiggled excitedly from left to right. The hockey player was only ever mentioned after a run-in with the guy, both Keeho and Dasom knew that.

“Don’t keep me waiting!”

With another bite of your fourth cookie you spilled everything like an overflowing bucket. Starting from the study session to the unsuccessful practice and Hoseok’s disappointed look to the sweetest and most unreal moment with Hyunjin that was later ruined by Mingi–

“Oh my God!” 

Dasom dropped her cookie and jerked back, not expecting you to shriek like a banshee. “What?!”

The sudden realization of whose presence you forgot in the rink hit you like a truck. An uncomfortable heat twisted your guts as your thoughts began to spiral. You buried your head in your hands and as if that wasn’t enough he witnessed you explode on the whole hockey team, heard Mingi’s embarrassing taunts and watched you run out. 

“My outburst! I completely forgot about Hyunjin!”

“Oh…”

A silence settled over the kitchen. Neither of you knew what to say because what could one say in moments like these? A pat on the back and a somber smile would suffice although it wouldn’t ease your worries. A few seconds passed and Dasom eventually cleared her throat.

“You know what could be even worse? Like the cherry on top?”

Like a child, you peeked from behind your fingers. Eyes heavy and lips in a pout, “What?”

“Starting your period.”

Your childhood friend possessed an extravagant vocabulary with a cupboard full of advanced words and phrases. She could easily go on a poetic rampage about how you should see things from the brighter side or that some things happen for a reason. Yet she settled on a simplicity she knew would make you crack a smile.

“Amen to that.” 

You clinked your cups in a toast and downed the rest of the liquid like a shot. Milk clung to your upper lips like a childish white mustache and you broke out in laughter, pointing a finger to your index finger pointed at each other’s faces.

“I was thinking–”

“Uh oh, that never ends well.”

Dasom pouted and delivered a soft kick to your thigh. “Anyway, I was thinking we could have a girls’ night on Friday. Keeho’s invited too, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you chimed.

“We can paint our nails, watch movies and eat a lot of snacks. Whatcha say?”

Mentally picturing the schedule of the week, you figured you’d need a day off and agreed to her idea. 

The sharp noise of a whistle blew through the arena and the eighteen guys clad in hockey gear and skates gathered along the centerline. The first half of the players got into position and awaited the second signal from their coach while the rest of the team stood behind their designated partner. As the high-pitched sound cut through the silence, the first batch bolted from their marks and the remaining guys shimmied closer to the line.

There were a lot of fun things about hockey, like boarding your opponent or shutting down their offenses. The lesser good was receiving penalties or a game misconduct, but the absolutely worst thing about hockey was the cardio exercises. 

When Mingi signed up for hockey practice at the age of five, he didn’t think much would come out of it. He was too uncoordinated with his legs to play soccer and his towering height didn’t make him any better at basketball either, but hockey on the other hand… Everyone was clumsy when it came to skating on ice. Like newborn foals, they were all shaking on their skates with hockey gear too big for their little bodies and barely able to locate the puck through the grid on their heads, Mingi managed just fine. The gnawing thoughts of standing out and being the worst amongst his peers wasn’t something little Mingi entertained anymore. Instead, he focused on growing and being better at the sport he actually enjoyed playing. As he got older, hockey got more serious and his interest for the sport broadened. His role model changed from his dad to Kim Kisung, and his big collection of Pokemon cards was replaced by hockey ones instead.

The dunk of a gloved hand collided with his back and Mingi took off like a rocket. He wasn’t the fastest or the most agile on the team, but he was great at using his height to crush explosive little wingers and it was the secret recipe of what kept him able to go for so long in games. There was no bigger joy than putting a stop to other’s plays and when there wasn’t anyone to stop or pucks to steal, the hockey Mingi loved was something he loathed. The ripping and slicing of multiple blades on ice sounded through the arena and despite working out five out of seven days of the week, Mingi still felt out of breath as he stopped a few steps over the centerline.

“A new lap is added for each player that slows down!” The old man standing by the entrance barked. 

Mingi could feel all eyes turn to him and if he wasn’t so busy catching his own breath, he’d gift them all with a good ol’ ‘go fuck yourselves’. 

“You heard the man, Song. Don’t let him catch you slowing down.” 

Turning his head to the right, the smug face of Jungkook came into view. Jungkook was a prime example of little wingers Mingi expertised in crushing. The player (both off and on court) behaved like the youngest of the team, despite being one of Mingi’s seniors, which gave him immunity to everyone’s wrath.

“Don’t make me remind you how it’s to be sent flying into the borders, JK.”

Throwing a quick glance at their coach, Jungkook smacked Mingi in the back of his head, which did little to no damage and only meant the helmet was doing its job of protecting Mingi from concussions. 

“It’s Jungkook-hyung for you, brat.”

“Song! Jeon! Less talking, more skating!” 

There was in fact not less talking and more skating, and the penalty resulted with three more laps for the rest of the team and a bunch of curses hurled at the instigators. 

“I don’t get why you just don’t ignore him,” Intak complained as he wrapped a white towel around his waist and ran his hand through his wet strands. 

Mingi followed suit, his own towel similarly tied around his waist and another smaller one thrown over his head soaking up the water dripping from his hair. 

“You know how he is,” Mingi defended and plopped down on the bench to easier rummage through his bag for a change of clothes. “He’d just say something else until I finally explode.”

“I know, but bro, we’ve been doing bag skates for weeks now. One of you has to give in and it’s gotta be you.”

Living up to his zodiac sign, Mingi was awfully stubborn and a sore loser, there was no way he’d ever let up. 

“Yeah, sure I might as well let him trample all over me while we’re at it.”

Intak, who moved over to the square mirror attached to the wall, caught Mingi’s eyes in the reflection and his own widened as an imaginary light bulb popped over his head. Adjusting his red cap — a stark contrast to his bleached hair — he turned around and his mouth formed into a suppressed smirk that looked something between puckered lips and a smile. Weirded out by the smuggish-look on his friend’s face, Mingi reeled back and raised a brow.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason, no reason at all.”

“He probably just clocked why that figure skater puts up with your dumb shit,” Matthew or BM, as everyone referred to him as, answered and plopped down on the vacant spot between them.

BM was one of the guys who challenged Mingi in both height and mass. They were similar in body proportion, but BM carried more muscle and had a few years on him, not to mention he was a force to be reckoned with in the defense zone. Definitely a key player of the Blue Wolves. 

“Puts up with my dumb shit?”

“Yeah, all that teasin’ and makin’ fun of her.”

Scratching the back of his head, Mingi didn’t quite get what they meant. He wasn’t really making fun of you per se. They were just harmless jokes and, well, you did actually hog the rink for the past few weeks and you were so easy to rile up. 

Throwing a black hoodie over his head, BM filled the silence that came with Mingi’s thinking. “I get she’s cute, but we’re past that boys-pick-on-girls-they-like typa bullshit.”

“I don’t think she’s cute,” Mingi retaliated.

“Nah, every girl is a lil cute and that one is definitely cute.”

“What’s this? Tea time and you don’t invite the Jeon Jungkook?” The winger threw an arm around Mingi’s shoulder, and a whiff of fabric softener and pear reached his sinuses.  

“Didn’t need to, we knew you’d invite yourself anyway,” Mingi muttered and jabbed a thumb into the older’s side that immediately freed him from the unpleasant hold.

Jungkook scrambled to the opposite side, legs spread wide and forearms falling back on the wooden railing of the bench. 

“Don’t be mean just because you can’t talk to girls like the rest of us.”

Growing more agitated the longer the conversation went on, Mingi threw his stinky jersey at Jungkook and snapped, “The fuck you mean I can’t talk to girls?”

“Last time I checked, you don’t need to fuck up a girl’s phone to get her number, but I do have to say it’s an interesting technique. Tell me how it goes for ya, why don’t you?” Jungkook scrunched the shirt into a ball and threw it back at its owner, who caught it with ease. 

“Oh, fuck you. It was an accident.”

Another arm wrapped around Mingi’s neck and his face was pushed up against a clothed torso. The unpleasant and slightly painful feel of someone’s knuckled rubbing against the top of his head pulled out a string of winces.

“First you can’t talk to girls and now you’re disrespecting your elders? C’mon, Mango, don’t make me hand you your ass,” BM threatened with a grin, showing off his overly white teeth.

“Yah, that hurts!” Mingi somehow managed to escape BM’s iron grip and caressed his hair back into place.

“Serves you right, you punk.”

“I think Jungkook-hyung’s right though. Like, don’t you think it’s a bit excessive? I mean, yeah she’s annoying and shit, but dude, fucking up her phone?” Intak voiced as he zipped up his jacket and slung his bag around one shoulder.

“It was an accident and it’s not like I’m the only one to blame. You guys were in on it too!”

The deep chuckle of Jungkook diverted everyone’s attention to him. “We agreed on you distracting her, not destroying her things, baby chick. She’s better than me, if I was her and a guy did that to me, I’d be fuming.”

“Yeah, but what about that time she spilled apple juice on my shirt. On my favorite shirt!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t taken the last drink, her favorite drink in fact, what was it again?”

“Strawberry milk,” Mingi answered without missing a beat and had everyone taken back at the quick reply.

“...Anyway, as I was saying. If you hadn’t taken the last of her favorite drink in the cafeteria, she wouldn’t have poured the apple juice all over you.”

“So that excuses it!?”

BM stood up with Intak and Jungkook in tow, all dressed and ready to leave except for Mingi who still sat in his boxers and just a pair of socks on his feet.

“Considering you’ve been a douche toward her… Yes, yes it does,” BM answered and tucked the hood over his neon green hair.

“When was I a douche toward her?”

“Jeez, I don’t know how ‘bout the time she nearly fell on her ass and you made that whole prince charming comment. What was that about anyway?”

Jungkook butted in and leaned against BM. “Yeah, what was that about? You jealous of the prince snatching your girl, Song?”

“She’s not my girl and I’m not jealous of a guy doing some loops on ice and calling it a sport…”

The rowdy boys quietened down at the sudden jab. Books and movies presented hockey players to have a burning hatred for figure skaters, and while that could be true, it wasn’t necessarily amongst the Blue Wolves. They didn’t really care all that much about the sport or the athletes, but they knew the amount of hard work and effort that went into figure skating, making it a hobby far more respected than soccer. They also knew that Mingi wasn’t really thinking that and only let his fiery thoughts get the best of him. Nonetheless, it wasn’t cool and while they were already on the path of calling him out, why not follow through.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

Jaw going slack, Mingi threw his hands out towards Intak. “So I get shit for calling you guys nicknames, but he gets to outright call me a dick?!”

“Did he lie tho?”

One after another, they left the changing room with Jungkook getting the last word.

“Better hurry, baby chick, or you’ll be late for class! Remember, girls may like dicks, but not when you’re acting like one.”

Balancing between schoolwork and perfecting the triple axel, you hadn’t even noticed how quickly Wednesday and Thursday flew by. Keeho burst through your door with grocery bags in his hands and a giggly Dasom hot on his heels, a little Hello Kitty tote bag hanging off her shoulder.

“Bow down bitches, bow-bow down bitches!”

Quite literally you fell off the sofa, legs tangled in your soft blanket and some drool on the side of your face. 

“What the–”

“Wake up sleepyhead, it’s time to partyyyy,” Keeho hollered and raised the plastic bags in the air. The various bottles of alcohol, chips and popcorn reminded you what day it was.

While Dasom and Keeho prepared things in the kitchen, you were ushered to the bathroom to ‘wash the drowsiness away’ as Keeho worded it. They lasted five minutes without creating chaos and by the time you returned Keeho was sliding across your kitchen with his pink fuzzy socks on, dancing to Lady Gaga’s Monster while Dasom whipped together a peanut butter cookie batter.

You were still not entirely awake and couldn’t decide if everything was just a crazy dream or not. Without giving it another thought you threw a bag of dried kernels into your microwave and helped Dasom with the baking.

“Oh, can you like make this pinky have a red heart and the other a green one?” 

Dasom nodded at Keeho’s question and gently blew on his white nails. You watched them from your seat on the couch, patiently waiting for your turn. Keeho lay on his stomach, legs dangling in the air, and Dasom sat in a pretzel position with various nail polishes and pearls scattered in small bowls on the floor.

“We are having so much fun you guys.”

“Stay still please.”

“Sorry, Dae-Dae.”

A game of rock-paper-scissors decided who painted whose nails. You groaned as Keeho won and chose Dasom to fix his, leaving your fingers in his hands. It was no surprise that Keeho’s turned out to be the prettiest and yours the ugliest. Out of the three of you, he was the shittiest artist with Dasom as a close second but at least her hands were steady.

“Okay, as the winner I say we watch Coraline.”

“Slow down, you won for the nails not the movie.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh! Dasom tell him.”

After another game of rock-paper-scissors and another victory for Keeho, you had no choice but to put the movie on despite your protests about Halloween being a month away.

“It’s probably a shit movie anyway,” you said and leaned into Keeho’s side, repositioning your head so it was comfortable against his shoulder. Dasom found herself in a similar position on the other side. You each cradled a bowl of popcorn and chips.

“...You haven’t seen Coraline?”

“Uhm, was I supposed to?”

“Were you supposed to?! I should smack you right into the Other World with your Other Mother!” 

Your brows rose at his comment. A bit confused as to what this Other World was and why he referred to your mom as the Other Mother.

“Smack me and I’ll have the cops on you faster than you can say–”

“Big boobs?”

A pinch of his bicep between your thumb and forefinger quickly shut him up and Dasom took it as her cue to dim the lights and start the film. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, sure it was a bit sad, dramatic and hectic even, but not enough to work your tear ducts.

“Honestly speaking, and I mean honestly speaking, the Other Mother is kinda hot.”

“I wish you knew when to shut up.” You pushed Keeho and stuffed his mouth with popcorn. Dasom giggled at how quick the atmosphere changed, but then shushed you as the movie took a dark turn.

“Ya, ya. Whatever.” Keeho stood up and cracked his back before turning the lights back on, completely ignoring Dasom’s whiny protests. “You know what this calls for? Some driiiiinks!” 

In seconds the night turned from a chill girls’ night to a full blown party.

A widely popular song blasted from Keeho’s portable speaker and he couldn’t help but swing along to the sound. His ears were a burning red after two bottles of soju, but the rest of his face was white as snow. Dasom, on the other hand, looked pretty flushed all over. Her cheeks were as red as her hair and she could barely stand up without falling on her ass. She was alright though, her never ending giggles told you that. She was a cute drunk, unlike Keeho who was crazy and had you constantly reminding him why he couldn’t twerk on your coffee table.

“Y’know…” Keeho flung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. The sweet smell of strawberry soju on his tongue was pleasant to your nose. “Hyunjin asked about you today.”

The statement immediately sobered you up and the dizziness wasn’t from the alcohol anymore. They both saw a spark of hope light up in your eyes and Dasom ‘oohed’ as you whipped your head towards Keeho. You licked your lips and dried your clammy hands on your trousers. 

The only thing they had in common was being seniors and last time you checked Keeho wasn’t acquainted with any of Hyunjin’s friends either. They had no reason to converse — one being an arts major and figure skater while the other was studying English literature and was a cheerleader — besides you.

“Really?”

He hummed and sluggishly continued talking, you could barely make out what he was saying. “He ash-ked if you were-rer alrigh-t.”

Another teasing hoot came from Dasom which Keeho chimed in on with a squeeze to your shoulder. Your face burned and you knew damn well it wasn’t because of the alcohol flowing through your veins. 

“An–and what did you say?” You fanned your face. It was really getting hot in there and Keeho’s clinginess wasn’t helping you.

As the song faded into the next one Keeho gasped at the familiar lyrics coming from the speakers and immediately untangled himself from you to turn the volume up.

“I love this song!” 

He grabbed Dasom by her hands and twirled her around the room, her childish giggles mixing in with the funky beat and Keeho’s loud singing. In any other circumstance you’d be angry at how absentminded he was, but the boy gave you some good information and was thus easily forgiven. The thought of Hyunjin asking about you was surreal. You were certain your prissy attitude would change his perception of you — whatever that was you didn’t know — but apparently not. More heat crawled up your spine, making your cheeks burn uncomfortably. You pressed your cold hands to your face in an attempt to cool down. 

Your mouth broke out into a huge grin when it finally dawned on you. 

Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you. Hyunjin asked about you. 

The rest of the night was a blur and some moments were faintly secured in your memory. You remember dancing, singing, laughing and drinking. A lot of drinking. A never-ending buzz sounded through the whole apartment. With a moan of agony you pulled the covers over your head and snuggled violently against the cushions of the sofa. Suddenly it went quiet and you exhaled in relief. Thinking you’d be able to squeeze in another hour of sleep, you turned around only to groan again as the noise came back.

“Why do you have the alarm on? It’s Saturday,” Keeho said, a tint of annoyance in his grogginess.

“I have to… meet up for ah… projec–th. Can’t be late.”

Whoever invented alcohol should be charged with decapitation for not inventing a cure for hangovers.

“What the hell did you put in our drinks, Kyo?” You arose from your position on the couch, lightly clutching your throbbing head. All your limbs ached and you wished the world would go back to sleep again. 

“Uh– don’t ask me. I don’t even know my name right now.”

The rest of the morning was spent puking and shuffling with blankets wrapped around you like tortillas. None of you were up for small talk, the hangover clung to you like never before and you collectively blamed Keeho for buying so much soju. 

“Oh, shut it. You’re at least well enough to talk. Poor Dae-Dae can’t even open her eyes.”

Said girl grunted out a noise of agreement and gratitude as Keeho gently placed a wet rag on the upper part of her face. True to his words, Dasom was faring the worst. She always struggled with alcohol, both in downing it and the aftermath.

“You shouldn’t drink if you’re going to be this cranky,” you said matter-of-factly and massaged Dasom’s calves.

He gave you a nasty look and rolled his eyes. “Whatever! I’m taking a shower, losers.”

“What a douche.” 

Dasom grunted again, her way of telling you to be nice. 

“Yeah, yeah, go back to sleep or you’ll drool all over your project.”

As the minute hand showed five minutes to eleven you gathered all the empty soju bottles in a bag and gave them to Keeho, a polite way of kicking him out, and then pushed Dasom to take a shower before she took her leave. With those two out of your hair, you turned to the living room and took in the sight of chaos. There were crumbs, glitter and drops of alcohol on the floor and coffee table, nail polish everywhere and nowhere, and dishes in places you never thought you’d see. You pulled back the invisible sleeves of your nightgown and began cleaning up the mess. On a positive note you didn’t have to throw the trash out and could immediately start with the dishes. Then you vacuumed the living room after wiping down every crevice you could reach and continued into the bathroom. To your luck Keeho didn’t puke his intestines out, only Dasom who still had a sense of direction in her hazy state so the toilet seat wasn’t drenched in her stomach acid and lunch. While you were at it you changed the sheets in your bedroom and loaded the washing machine with clothes from your and Dasom’s bedrooms.

At last you too jumped in the shower and stayed there until the warm water ran out. With a tub of ice cream and a towel wrapped around your head, you relaxed in bed. A fresh set of pajamas clung to your body as you wiggled under the clean covers. God, how you missed your bed and privacy. 

By the time you were done with the ice cream and two movies of a random trilogy, the sky turned a pretty dark color which reminded you of last night’s shenanigans. You glanced down at your fingers and laughed at the badly painted nails. The second Keeho laid eyes on the dark blue nail polish — or galaxy blue according to him — he announced his masterplan; a galaxy theme. The first coat was alright, but then as he got his hands on the silver glitter everything went downhill. Your nails were uneven, some having more blue and others drowning in glitter. There was nothing you could do about it or he’d sulk for a week straight, claiming you weren’t a real friend and favored Dasom over him which wasn’t not true but he didn’t need to know that.

As you started the third movie your phone went off with a ding. Your heart fluttered inside your chest when you picked up the phone and saw who was disturbing your ‘me-time’.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] hey it’s hyunjin

The spoon full of melted ice cream slipped from your hands right onto your lavender sheets. A low ‘fuck’ echoed in the room at the same time as you received one more message.

Unknown ID [07:35 PM] keeho gave me your number

You didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss his cheeks or strangle him. Partially grateful, partially annoyed. Grateful Keeho had half a mind to slip Hyunjin your number and was annoyed that he completely forgot to tell you about this little piece of information during his drunken dancing.

With shaky hands you tapped in a reply and immediately facepalmed as you hit the send button.

You [07:39 PM] Hi Hyunjin :3

Before you could rip your hair out at the choice of emoticon, the front door opened and a cheery Dasom stumbled into your bedroom with rosy cheeks and hair slightly disheveled, looking like a combination of flustered and cold that you didn’t put a lot of thought into. 

Cutting right to the case, you said, “Hyunjin texted me.”

She let out a squeal of pure joy and leapt onto your bed, her heavy book bag forgotten on the tidy floor as she pried noisily on your phone.

Hyunjin [07:40 PM] you up for another practice tgt?

“Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes!” She shook your arm violently, phone barely staying in your hands.

You [07:40 PM]  That’d be nice

The device was flung across your bed, landing face down as you both sat in silence. It lasted for five seconds until another message came through. You cast a glance at Dasom who was already looking at you, and then in slow motion you both dove for the phone. She landed on top of you, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs, but you came out the winner with your hands wrapped around the phone.

“I’m scared,” you confessed and pulled the phone up to your chest. A nervous smile tugged at your lips. 

“Just look!” 

Hyunjin [07:42 PM] you free this friday, 9 am?

You angled the screen so Dasom could look too. 

“What do I say?”

“What do you say?” She smiled. “Yes, of course!”

“I mean obviously, but how do I say it? I don’t want to come off too excited.”

She gestured grabby-hands and you handed her the phone. Her thumbs flew across the digital keyboard and she bit down on her bottom lip, suppressing her giggles. You’d be giggling with her if it wasn’t your fate in her hands. She returned the phone and dashed to her room. 

You [07:42 PM] Lucky you, I can just squeeze you into my packed schedule

Hyunjin [07:43 PM] see you then busy girl

You scanned the message twice to make sure you read it correctly. 

“Dasom!”

Her childish giggle could be heard all the way from her room and if it weren’t for your heart almost bursting out of your chest you’d show her a thing or two about loyalty. Instead you hid under the covers. A big, warm tingling sensation filled your stomach and spread to your beating organ. You couldn’t stop thinking about the messages, picturing Hyunjin saying those things in real life. It had you kicking your feet like those lovesick girls in movies and you didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night.

If fifteen years of school taught you anything it was to never have high expectations. Big dreams and hopes were destined to be crushed and you could confidently vouch for that, yet there you were; with your head in the clouds and heart on your sleeves thinking this week would be the best week of your life.

As if sensing happiness floating in the lecture hall, your professor burst your bubble with one decision. The essay he assigned for Saturday was moved to Friday with the deadline at twelve PM. Your original plan of doing absolutely nothing all week and writing it in one sitting on Friday was already altered because of Hyunjin and now you had to change it again. Instead of spending your Wednesday morning huddled in bed with a warm beverage watching the latest episode of your new kdrama, you were in the library under the watchful eyes of Ms. Bang.

The library was full of students. You stood idly by the door and scanned the room for a vacant seat or table to squeeze into. Finals were just around the corner and everyone had the great idea of revising material before and after school hours. At last you found an empty table big enough for two and quickly skirted around the hoard of people, praying to reach it before anyone else.

A confetti popper went off in your head as you sat down. All you had to do now was get started which was easier said than done. The caret on the blank document ticked like a bomb, reminding you of the time you wasted thinking about nothing yet seeming so deep in thought. With narrowed eyes and lips in an angry pout, no one dared to occupy the chair in front of you.

That no one turned into someone.

You didn’t feel them sit down in the vacant seat. You didn’t see them, too occupied having a stare-off with your laptop. One moment there was no one there and the next moment a six foot-something tall hockey player plopped down from the sky, probably being outcast from heaven.

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. You huffed as he made the moss green knitted sweater look good, even though it was ugly.

You sighed and kissed your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Although he tried acting offended, the sly smirk he didn’t bother hiding told you otherwise. You averted your gaze back to your computer. His face was starting to annoy you.

“What do you mean?” He asked ever so innocently.

“This table, my table. Why are you here?”

“The library is a public space and I’m here to study.”

You chuckled as if it were funny. “Since when do you study, Song?”

“Careful, princess or I’ll think you’re interested in me. Asking all these questions, what’s next you’ll ask for my phone number?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Mingi leaned on the table and rested his sharp chin against the palm of his hand. He suggestively ran his fingers through his creme colored highlights and grinned wolfishly. 

“Your place or mine?”

Your knee hit the underside of the table jarring Mingi’s water bottle. Pain flared and you bit back a wince, hastily rubbing against the jeans-clad skin. You didn’t miss the aggravated look Ms. Bang gave you. 

“I’ll take that as a no.”

The glare you shot him worked like a domino effect as he raised one brow menacingly asking, “What did I do?”

“If you’re gonna sit here then be quiet. I’m only tolerating you for so long, Song.”

“Didn’t peg you for a rapper, princess.”

“Don’t,” you drove your feet into his shin, “call me that.” 

The table jerked again — twice as much — and you received yet another disapproving stare from the librarian, but you didn’t care. The revenge was satisfying and you couldn’t help but marvel at his temporary pain. Your first thought as he sat down was that you’d be at each other’s throats, but to your surprise there wasn’t any bloodshed. Silence took over the table as you both worked diligently, and it was only possible because you were still ignoring each other’s presence. Sometimes you’d peek at him and be taken back at how calm and gentle he looked. The smirk you despised was nowhere to be seen, his lips parted in concentration and his eyes were void of any malice. They were warm like your morning coffee and as soft as the sand on Daecheon Beach.

“Is my handsome face distracting you?”

Then the thin line between tolerating and accepting was blurred, leaving you to work with nothing.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah, you are. Especially at night…when I’m alone with no one to fix my–”

“I swear to God if you don’t shut the fuck up,” you hissed through your teeth and slammed your hand on the table.

The ruckus was drowned out by the sound of multiple fingers tapping against keyboards and the haste of flipping pages, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ms. Bang. She hushed you with a long ‘shhh’ and you gulped and sank in your seat with Mingi’s broad figure hiding you from her. The woman probably hated you by now. If it wasn’t Keeho who got you into trouble then it was some other idiot.

You couldn’t stand Mingi and he lived to annoy you, but there was an unspoken understanding to put your differences aside for the time being. With another try, you returned to the empty screen and he went back to his. The silent and unofficial pact lasted for a hot minute.

“You know, I don’t usually have a thing for feisty girls but–”

You shut your eyes and sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience which wasn’t anything new really, but he was extra persistent today.

“–you were kinda hot like that. All angry and snappy, and that thing you did with your lips. Right, just like that!”

You sneered in disgust. This was the chance for Dasom and Keeho to prove their friendship because you were about to murder him and someone had to pay for your bail.

“Go back to your mediocre porn and keep your weird fantasies away from me.”

“You know me so well, angel. Wanna re-enact it? The one I usually watch has your hair color.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

Everyone stopped at the sudden outburst. It felt like a spotlight was cast over your table, like you were the lead in a play. The click-clack of Ms.Bang’s kitten heels moved fast along the tiled floor and you knew you were fucked. The gray haired woman reached your table and peered down at you with so much venom that it could make a flower wilt. 

“It’s the third time you’ve disturbed the peace in my library. I’ll kindly ask you to pack your things and leave or I’ll have to call security. I’m thoroughly disappointed in you, young lady.”

You felt embarrassed, face hot as you stood up and bowed sharply, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Bang.”

“And you, Mister. You’d think a grown man would have more respect for himself and those around him. I want both of you out, right this instance.”

Much like you, Mingi got up — albeit a bit slower — and bobbed his head up and down, muttering a quiet apology. Whispered murmurs spread through the library as the students resumed their studies. You hastily took your things and darted outside, not sparing anyone any glances. Ms. Bang didn’t return to her post until she witnessed you both walk out the door.

Fuck Mingi. Fuck Ms. Bang. Fuck your professor. Fuck the essay–

“Would you wait up?”

The man you wanted to see least of all stopped in front of you. Curse him and his long legs.

You peered up at him. The audacity of this guy. “No, Mingi. I don’t want to slow down because I don’t want to look at you! Let alone wait up.”

“Okay, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbled and scratched the back of his neck. Things were getting out of hand and he wasn’t used to seeing you this mad.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. You got me kicked out of the library, in front of everyone! Do you know how embarrassing that is?!”

“Hey, I was kicked out too!”

“You’re a guy! No one cares about you, but me? My reputation could be ruined, they’ll see me as a delinquent!”

“Oh, get over yourself. You were kicked out of the library, not arrested for snorting coke.”

Your tongue poked the side of your cheek. “You’re a real fucking asshole.” 

You cursed your voice for wobbling and stepped around him, continuing your walk home. Mingi stood rooted to the ground and watched as you stormed off. He clicked his tongue and went the other way. 

You were blowing things out of proportion. Who cared what people thought of you anyway? Stopping by a red light and staring off into nothing, he tried wrapping his head around your logic. You were a figure skater — a performer — you needed to grow thicker skin. People would always judge you, both on and off the rink. How could you be so easily affected by a measly little hag? Mingi blew out an air of frustration. You really were something else. 

The red light was running longer than usual and he was growing more impatient with each passing second. Mingi patted the front of his hair and thought back to the conversation with his friends.

“No need to be a dick, Hyung.”

The seven-word-long sentence struck a chord in him. Too blinded by his own bruised ego, Mingi didn’t want to believe his faults that day in the locker room, but as a sour, unripe apple faded into a deep red, Mingi too matured and realized he was in fact acting like a dick. It was clear his words hurt you, it was evident from the slight timber in your voice. A tone he was all too familiar with from his childhood days. A snivel he let out trying to suppress his childish tears from countless scraped knees and bee stings. A voice so suffocating and uncomfortable, as if a thick ball was shoved down his windpipe. He hated it — the feeling of not being able to breathe, being in control of his own body — even as he transitioned into his adult years. 

A heavy weight dropped in his stomach at the thought of you feeling that way because of him.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Mingi hastily turned around and awkwardly jogged back to where he last saw you. Slowing down by the entrance gates of the local library, he caught a glimpse of your angry-walking figure among the sea of students. Eyes set on you, his feet moved on their own and skillfully avoided the people. Right as he parted his lips to call for you, something hard rocked right into his chest or the other way around, Mingi wasn’t sure. Tearing his sight from you and at the person that was the equivalent of a brick wall, Mingi opened his mouth to apologize only to stop mid word.

“You good there, Song?”

What was it with people addressing him with his last name. His parents did give him a real name for a reason. 

Hate was a strongly charged word and from a young age, Mingi never felt hatred towards anyone. The closest thing he’d come to hate was dislike. He disliked bugs and vegetables, and he really disliked cardio. 

That was until he met Bang Chan, the winger of Red Tigers — a hockey team under TOP University — and also the most annoying man in the world. Mingi hated Chan with a burning passion. Was it because of something childish? Probably. Would Mingi ever admit it? Probably not.

“What’s it to you, Chris?”

If it weren’t for Mingi’s towering height making him look years older than Chan, passersby would have shot him a dirty look for the lack of honorifics used, but Mingi didn’t care. Honorifics were made to show a clear difference in hierarchy and nowadays it was to show respect to either elders or superiors. Mingi held no respect for the shrimp of a man and Chris wasn’t a superior in his eyes.

Chan chuckled and ran his hand through his blonde locks. “Considering I don’t really give a fuck about you, I’d say nothing.”

The grit of Mingi’s teeth clashing against each other and sharpening his jaw, had a cocky smile spreading across Chan’s face. 

“Oh, don’t say you thought I was worried about you.” 

The day Mingi first met Chan was right before a game between the Blue Wolves and Red Tigers. The younger had been told about the talented winger, warned of his skills and malicious ways of getting under people’s skin. Being still relatively new to the team, Mingi heeded the words of his seniors and promised to stay cool headed and free from penalties. The promise lasted for a good ten minutes into the first period until Mingi sprung into action, violating a handful of rules and knocking Chan off his skates. Each and every game after that where the two hockey players simultaneously skated the rink was a brawl waiting to happen.

“The only time I think of you is either with a broken nose or a losing score.”

“So you do think of me. Well I’d say I’m flattered, but you're not really my type, Song. I’m more into lanky boys with freckles and not whatever it is you are.”

Violence was never the answer, was what a lot of educational books said, yet they could never explain the therapeutic release of pent up anger that released as Mingi’s fist would connect with the winger’s face.

Eyes steering away from Chan’s cheesed ones, Mingi pinpointed you moving further and further into the crowd, slowly weaving and blending in with the other people. While he wasn’t all that keen on talking with you — still having a trouble making out what he was going to say — he’d rather stand empty minded before you and not entertain the clown in front of him. Besides, if acted out of line his seniors would never let him live it down, maybe even go the great length of convincing their coach to keep him benched for the rest of the season.

“I don’t have time for you, Chris. We’ll settle everything on the ice, until then stay the fuck away from me.”

Shoulders colliding and their mouths curling into a C — one up and the other down — Mingi went after you just like he initially planned before the universe threw an obstacle in his way.

The multiple calls of your name echoed like a wordless siren song, manipulating you to slow down only to break off the cures and walk faster as you realized who the voice belonged to.

“God, you walk fast,” Mingi huffed as he caught up to you.

For an active hockey player you’d think his stamina would be out of this world. Apparently not seeing how his chest rose rapidly, stretching his gorgeous musc– 

“What do you want?” 

“How you feeling about food? You hungry? It’s my treat.”

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny.”

Mingi skipped in front of you and rotated midstep so he walked backwards facing you, “I’m serious. You up for some fried chicken?

“I already told you to fuck off, don’t make me scream stalker too.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Look I wanna make it up to you. At least take this.”

He searched for something in his jean pocket and then held out two crumpled bills. The glare he received was sharp enough to cut through concrete and Mingi gulped as the corners of your lips gravitated down. Your hand itched to slap the mocking papers out of his grasp and scream something along the lines of him being an asshole. As if he hadn’t humiliated you enough, now he was offering you money like you were a beggar.

“I’m not up for any of your jokes, Song. Just leave. Me. Alone.”

“No, I’m being for real.”

You hit the brakes and stared at him hoping to find the smallest of hints that he was fucking with you. “What game are you playing at, huh? You’ve already publicly humiliated me once, you wanna go for round two, is that it?”

He scoffed at your hostility and stuffed the dollars back in his pocket. “I’m not always out to annoy you, princess.”

The small movement of your brows drawing together brought out a forced cough. He had yet to make it up for you and he was already fucking it up.

“Believe it or not, but I just want to make things right.”

“Why?”

Mingi opened his mouth and closed it again. Words swirled in his head but no answer came to his mind. The question was righteous, he’d give you that. Coming up with an answer proved to be difficult when he too didn’t know what had gotten into him or why the sudden surge of goodness turned him into Lady Justice. A measly ‘I don’t know’ wouldn’t get him anywhere so with eyes that reflected the stars and lips forming into a pout he mustered the softest, “I actually… feel bad for the library… and your phone.”

Your eyes filtered over his face. This was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him and you had to remind yourself that this was the same guy who knocked you off your skates, coughed in your lunch and flicked your forehead every chance possible. 

“I don’t buy it.”

Turning on your heel, you decided to go the long way home, hoping he’d take the final hint and leave you alone. Honestly, you should’ve known better.

“You would if I was a certain figure skater.” 

Your head whipped back around so fast that you nearly got whiplash and he’d have to take you to the hospital. 

“That’s not true!” Your face burned at the mention of Hyunjin or perhaps at Mingi’s observation. Did he always keep tabs on you or the people you associated yourself with?

He stepped closer, your breaths mixing in the cold wind.

“Prove it.” 

The bear trap planted in the middle of the trail couldn’t have been more evident yet you still stepped on it with both feet. Sitting in a dimly lit coffee shop waiting for the tall bastard to come back with your orders was not on your yearly bingo card. There were a handful of reasons you agreed to his stupid idea. Your keys were in your other jacket, which was collecting dust in your wardrobe. Dasom was working on her project at Hongjoong’s so the apartment was empty. The sky was turning darker with each passing second and you were not about to sit idly on the stairs of your apartment complex, especially not at night.

A strawberry frappuccino slid in front of you and popped your thoughts like a dart would a balloon. Mingi hung his jacket around a chair opposite you and sat down, much like in the library. He avoided your gaze and took a long sip of his green tea mocha. You didn’t touch your drink despite it being your favorite — you pushed the thought of it being a coincidence or not to the back of your mind — and continued staring at him. He eventually faced you and nearly choked on the beverage. 

“Why are you staring at me?” 

“I’m admiring your act.”

“What act?”

“This goody-two shoe thingy you’re trying to pull off.”

He chuckled and looked down at his drink, fingers tracing circles on the paper logo. 

“You’ve really got your head way in on that. There is no act. I said it earlier, I just felt bad for getting you thrown out.” The cup was left alone and his eyes found yours. 

“And that’s what I don’t get. You’ve been a douche for a whole year, what makes today so different from last month? Why do you care now?”

“Are you going to drink that?”

You weren’t drinking anything until he fessed up and it was clear from the scrunch of your brows and how your lips pursed, conveying that perfect amount of sassiness.

Mingi never stopped overthinking what the hell he was doing. On the walk there, during his stunt of convincing you and in the short time he stood in line waiting to order. He racked his mind for answers and came up with nothing. The blob of anxiety dug into his abdomen the more he replayed the library scene. It was different from all his previous harmless teasing and bickering. It was fun, but not in a sadistic way. Seeing you get so angry and flustered over a simple nickname tickled his insides, yet he never intended to get you into trouble let alone be the reason you got scolded and on top of that kicked out of a public place under a hundred watchful eyes. But being Mingi, the guy you apparently hated the most, he couldn’t say all that. You’d really think he was playing you, which you had every right to believe.

With another sip of his tea, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “It’s called having a change of heart.”

You scoffed and allowed yourself to taste the stupid drink. It wasn’t like you could just go home anyway and it was easier to just give in and not make his money go to waste, no matter how annoying he was.

“Happy?”

A sarcastic hum weaved through the air of the chattering customers. The conversation ended at that point and you couldn’t stop thinking about your precious time being spent doing absolutely nothing. An all nighter was bound to happen or you’d say bye-bye to morning practice with Hyunjin.

The soft and irritating buzz of Mingi’s phone burned holes in his pocket. When you thought about it, the person hadn’t stopped calling him since you stepped foot in the shop and if you cared enough you’d tell him to take the call. Glancing down at the caller ID, Mingi pursed his lips into a line.

It didn’t take a genius to know why Intak was pestering him. The hockey team was supposed to have a movie night at Matthew’s. Intak and Mingi were assigned snack duty, but considering Mingi was at a coffee shop with you, the responsibility was pushed entirely on Intak, although he had yet to tell the younger boy. Mingi’s thumb slid over the off button and he pressed it twice ignoring the call. He was out of excuses to use and even if he had something up his sleeve, Intak would smell the bullshit from a mile away. They’d eventually justify his no-show as him having something better to do, assuming it was a quick fuck or something else involving a girl.

You, on the other hand, could jump from glee at the message on your lockscreen. Dasom was on her way home and you could finally cut this… appointment short. You slurped the last of your frappuccino and grabbed your bag and with a forced ‘thanks’ you were out of the coffee shop. How silly of you to think he’d let you off so easily. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as he walked beside you.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I'm walking you home.”

Underneath all that douchebag exterior Mingi had some qualities of a gentleman after all and for once you didn’t fight him on it. This whole exchange was weird and you were certain that whoever happened to see you two together would think it was a PR stunt. God forbid Dasom or Keeho got a whiff of you being civil towards him. Dasom’s future poems would be dedicated to your and Mingi’s nonexistent relationship while an exorcism would be arranged by Keeho, claiming Mingi had bewitched you.

“You live quite far from campus.” 

“I didn’t ask you to walk me home.”

“I never implied you did, I simply stated a fact.”

Another wave of silence settled over you. Mingi wasn’t that bad when he was quiet. Maybe you’d sew his mouth shut like Other Mother did to Other Wybee. At least that way you wouldn’t be publicly ridiculed anymore. Not that you were ever planning for this to happen again. 

By the time you arrived outside your apartment a layer of pitch black darkness wrapped around the earth and you had to physically bite your tongue from asking if he’d be alright walking home alone. Keeho did mention one of his friends was jumped by a group of older men and Mingi, despite his size and shape , wasn’t invisible to weirdos this late.

“Uhm, what’s going on here?”

Both you and Mingi turned to your left where a very confused Keeho and an ecstatic Dasom stood. You really wished you’d fought Mingi on leaving you alone sooner because the fear of walking alone in the dark was better than convincing these two coconuts there was no budding romance between you. Sensing your discomfort, Mingi cleared his throat. A dust of red sprinkled over his cheeks matching his cold ears and nose.

“See you around.”

Before you could mutter a lame ‘bye’ he was gone, leaving you to deal with the aftermath of dumb and dumber.

“What the hell was that?!” Keeho screeched as you bolted for the bathroom. “What happened to him being a dick?!”

“He’s still a dick,” you called out and splashed cold water on your face. 

“A dick you want to su–”

“Keeho-ya!”

“I’m just saying! What am I supposed to believe when I see you being all cozy with your sworn nemesis?”

You swung the bathroom door open and pointed at Keeho who, mind you, had his arms crossed over his chest and one foot impatiently tapping against the hardwood floor.

“Okay, let’s get one thing clear. I was not being cozy with him.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “You’re almost as gullible as Dasom.”

Said girl whined in protest and threw a sock at the back of his head. 

“No. No, no, no. I’m being honest. He just walked me home–”

“Mingi walked you home?” Dasom peeped from her space on the couch. 

“Yes, the bastard walked me home after getting us thrown out of the library–”

“The library closed like three hours ago.”

“Yes, Keeho. If you’d let me speak I’d explain everything from start to finish. The library was full so he decided to sit with me then he got us thrown out and wanted to ‘make it up’ by buying me coffee or whatever. So we went to a coffee–”

Dasom sprung up from the cushions and grasped your shoulders, violently shaking you back and forth. “Oh my God! He took you on a date!”

The self-proclaimed dad fell back on the sofa and dramatically covered his parted mouth. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was on the verge of crying.

“I can’t believe this. My little girl is turning into a woman.” He wiped an imaginary tear and followed up the act with sniffles. “We can’t have this, I have to threaten him properly. Invite him for dinner so he knows he can’t just hurt my little girl withou–”

You pushed past Dasom and threw glares at the annoying people you labeled friends.

“Can you stop fucking around for a second? I’m serious when I say nothing happened.”

“Well, yeah. I sure hope it didn’t. I’m still calling dibs on Hyunjin.”

You blinked a couple times, not entirely grasping his words.

“You’re calling what on who?”

“Dibs on Hyunjin.”

“Keeho thinks you’re getting together with Hyunjin.”

“You’re betting on my love life?!”

Keeho waved his hand in the air and tucked his feet under his bum. “Oh, stop screaming would-ya? It’s not much of a love life to begin with. Besides, Dasom is the crazy one in the bet.”

“Who’d you bet on?”

The girl balanced on her tiptoes and sheepishly smiled. If Keeho betted on Hyunjin, then she had to bet on–

“Mingi.”

“You bitch–” 

The instinct to fight kicked in and you lunged at her. It wasn’t as if you were going to hurt her, maybe jank her hair or bite her arm, something light to scare her. Before you could leave a scratch on her, Keeho flew to her rescue and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

“Woah everybody, let’s calm down a little bit!” 

With one last attempt to get one kick in you flung your legs out to which Keeho twirled you both around. 

“Count your days, Dasom!”

“Okay! You’re on time-out,” Keeho declared and carried you to your room.

As he was about to cross the threshold, you placed both feet against the wall on the sides of the open door and pushed back, propelling Keeho backwards. Poor guy almost lost his balance but regained it before you became one with the floor.

“Stop being a difficult little shit!” 

His right arm sneaked down behind your knees while the other supported your back and carried you bridal-style. He gently dropped you on the bed and you flopped like a sack of potatoes, limbs drawn out like a starfish. You could feel Keeho’s eyes on you, but it did little to break your stare from the ceiling.

“I’m not supposed to get any attention while in time-out.”

Keeho pursed his lips as his tongue poked the side of his cheek. 

“Mmm and you were supposed to hate Mingi but here we are.” 

He placed his hands on his hips. You were tired of glaring, arguing and throwing hands so you opted with a weak nudge of your foot towards the door. 

“Leave.”

Now that was very much out of character. He was certain you’d jump him too or chuck a pillow at him, but no. You continued laying there lifeless. You didn’t even spare him a glance. Keeho plopped down beside you, shoulders touching as he too stared at the creme colored ceiling.

“Did we go too far?”

“Nah, I’m just tired of Mingi. It’s like he’s always there, even if he isn’t. He always finds a way to get on my nerves.”

Keeho hummed, “I get that. I mean, not that you’d know but you and Dasom make me sick sometimes too.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. You get sick of being around us too much, not because we are making fun of you.”

“That’s true… but you know who doesn’t make fun of you?”

“...You and doofus number two out there?”

“Wooooooow, really?” 

A smile sneaked on your face.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Do whatcha want, Kyo. I’m just going to sleep the time-out… out?”

Extra sleep was never a bad idea and considering you were planning on pulling an all-nighter, you’d need all the rest you could get before that. You closed your eyes and rested one hand over your stomach while the other one went under your head.

“Hyunjin! Hyunjin doesn’t make fun of you!” Keeho yelped and breathed out in relief. 

It physically strained him to keep his mouth shut and it felt like his head was going to explode if he didn't mention it anytime soon. 

The idea of sleep was pushed to the back of your mind, along with all the other hundred things you postponed.

If there was anyone who kept dibs on people it would be Keeho. That man was up to date on all the gossip around the campus, new as well as old. Whoever was in the spotlight he’d know and then you’d know too. You’d usually tell him to shut it, not really being interested in other people’s business but this wasn’t just anyone’s business; this was about Hyunjin. The Hyunjin. Your crush, Hyunjin.

“Spill.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He jumped on the bed beside you, chin resting on both palms and feet kicking the air behind him. “Apparently our little Hyunjin-ie is interested in someone.”

Butterflies born from sheer anxiety and suspense fluttered in your stomach. Hyunjin liked someone. Giddy happiness welled over you. The same content feeling you’d get after passing a peculiarly hard exam or landing a difficult jump exploded in you. Your lips were forcibly curved in a shy smile and warmth settled in your stomach at the information. 

The boy you admired for quite some time now finally liked someone. The joy lasted for all of five seconds as the words really sank in. The lively butterflies building cocoons in you were annihilated by a big rock, and your childish smile was wiped like rain and other shit was flung from the windshield of your mother’s car. 

“Girl, why does it look like you’ve figured out Victoria’s secret?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m just saying how it is.”

That, he did. Keeho may have been an avid gossiper, but he wasn’t spreading lies. The things he heard and shared with you or Dasom were always true so you knew better than to question him and his sources. There was always that one-in-a million chance of him being wrong and it terrified you. It wasn’t like his sources couldn’t have misinterpreted it this time. What if they were talking about a girl named Hyunjin or Hyejin instead?

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s you,” he stated and picked on his fingernails. 

“Don’t fuck with me right now.”

“I’m not!” He threw his hands up. “But if you think about it, why would he agree to help you practice?”

“Because I was obviously struggling.”

“Okay, then explain why he asked for your number?” His head tilted as he raised a brow at your silence. “That’s what I thought. It’s you! Plus Jiung told me his crush was a figure skater. You are a figure skater!”

“That is a reach and you know it. It could be Yuna, she’s great. Pretty, nice and a figure skating prodigy.” 

“Okaaaay, but if she’s so great why aren’t they dating already?”

You flopped back on the bed, “Dude–” 

“No, I’m serious. If she’s so great and he likes her then what stops them from being together?”

“That could be used on me too?! If he likes me, why hasn’t he done anything?” 

“Cut him some slack, poor boy probably shat his pants while texting you.”

You swallowed down an insult and faced Keeho again. “How do you know about that?”

Crickets and whistling kettles.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yah, Choi Dasom!”

© HONGJOONGSART 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[lenythepillow]

Songs by The Smiths that remind me of Steve Harrington

This is mostly angst (if you don't like that content please just leave this post), so let's start

How Soon Is Now?

Even though "How Soon Is Now?" doesn't have many lyrics and only has around four different paragraphs, the lyrics itself remind me of Steve; imagine that the party is making a list of songs to use in case Vecna curses them; it's Steve's turn to decide the song that could save him. Everyone expects to be something from Madonna or The Beatles but it is "How Soon Is Now?" nobody understands why until Robin reads the lyrics. 

"There's a club if you'd like to go

You could meet somebody who really loves you

So you go and you stand on your own

And you leave on your own

And you go home and you cry

And you want to die"

Pretty Girls Make Graves

This song's message is not literal, not the full song applies to Steve's situation with Nancy (Especially since Steve is the one who wanted to take matters into the bed and Nancy was hesitant and uninterested at first)

Regardless, some parts remind me of how they broke up:

"Then, on the sand

Another man, he takes her hand

A smile lights up her stupid face

(And well, it would)"

And the verse "I'm not the man you think I am" could be Steve trying to convince himself he changed to convince others he changed.

I Know It’s Over

This- this is post-breakup Steve and all his desperate attempts to get a girlfriend, just look at this:

"I know it's over

And it never really began

But in my heart, it was so real

And you even spoke to me and said:

"If you're so funny

Then why are you on your own tonight?

And if you're so clever

Then why are you on your own tonight?

If you're so very entertaining

Then why are you on your own tonight?

If you're so very good-looking

Why do you sleep alone tonight?

I know...

" 'Cause tonight is just like any other night

That's why you're on your own tonight

With your triumphs and your charms

While they're in each other's arms...

It's so easy to laugh

It's so easy to hate

It takes strength to 

be gentle and kind

Over, over, over, over"

Never Had No One Ever

I remember some said that the "six little nuggets" speech wasn't that wholesome since it represents Steve's wish to never be alone again and get unconditional love; therefore Never Had No One Ever could represent this fear: the fear of dying alone.

"When you walk without ease

On these streets where you were raised

I had a really bad dream

It lasted 20 years, 7 months, and 27 days

And I know alone that I never, ever oh

Had no one ever"

Steddie content below ma mates, please don't read if you don't like it, and stay respectful :)

Angst

Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

Scenario: It's Eddie's death anniversary, Steve visits his grave and apologizes for not being able to save him; he tells Eddie how much the kids need him (especially Dustin) and he wishes he could come back. That night he plays Strangeways, Here We Come, then the songs start playing and he breaks down.

"Last night I felt

Real arms around me

No hope, no harm

Just another false alarm

So, tell me how long

Before the last one?

And tell me how long

Before the right one?

The story is old - I know

But it goes on"

The Boy With the Thorn in His Side

Steve's parents finally show up just to make his life a living hell since they don't approve of his sexuality (much less the fact that Steve is in love with a guy who was accused of murder)

"The boy with the thorn in his side

Behind the hatred there lies

A murderous desire for love"

"How can they look into my eyes

And still they don't believe me?

How can they hear me say those words

And still they don't believe me?"

"And after all this time

They don't want to believe us

And if they don't believe us now

Will they ever believe us?"

Hurt/comfort

What She Said

Okay okay okay, imagine Eddie getting into Steve's music taste just to have more in common, he finds Steve's collection of The Smiths, and a song, in particular, catches his attention: it's "What She Said" Once he hears it he can't stop matching the lyrics to his poor boyfriend.

"What she said was sad

But then, all the rejection she's had

To pretend to be happy

Could only be idiocy"

"What she said was not for the job or

Lover that she never has"

"What she said:

"I smoke 'cause I'm hoping for an early death

And I need to cling to something!""

(Eddie knows that the lyrics "It took a tattooed boy from Birkenhead to really, really open her eyes" probably talk about someone who hurt the girl the song's about; but he likes to think he will be the tattooed boy who will make Steve open his eyes and see himself with love for once)

Fluff

 There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

The whole song screams steddie to me- I imagine Steve hanging out with Eddie after a horrible fight with his parents; Eddie doesn't just comfort Steve but he tells him that Wayne and he are planning to leave Hawkins since living there is such a risk, this leads to the question "Would you like to come with us? Just the three of us?" and Steve starts crying while nodding happily.

You have to listen to the whole song but here's my favorite part

"Take me out tonight

Oh, take me anywhere, I don't care

I don't care, I don't care

Driving in your car

I never, never want to go home

Because I haven't got one, la-di-dum

Oh, I haven't got one

Oh, oh"

I JUST WANT STEVE RUNNING AWAY WITH EDDIE WHILE THIS SONG PLAYS AND STEVE TELLS EDDIE HE MAKES HIM FEEL AT HOME DON'T @ ME 

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1065: Bond Towards the Sunset (Sonic)

6:45 p.m. at the Rooftop of the Smash Mansion.....

Sage: (Let's Out a Relaxed Sigh as She Watches the Sunset in Front of her)

Shadow: (Turns to Sage Next to Him) I take it you're enjoying the view here thus far?

Sage: (Happily Nodded at Shadow) I am. I always enjoy watching the sun goes down. It's a wonderful sight to behold.

Shadow: (Smiles a Bit) I agree. It also helps clear your mind a bit, especially if you're thinking about something trivial. What do you think the mansion?

Sage: (Smiles Brightly) I enjoy my time here every much!~ Everyone I've made friends with are so nice and friendly and I'd never would've imagine having so many parental figures to love and care for up until now, it's amazing!

Shadow: (Chuckles Lightly) I'm glad you're getting along woth them. They've been living here for the longest time now that it's miracle this place haven't broken down yet. And get this: the mothers here has already form a little group of their own. (Grabs his Chin) I think it's called the..."Certified Moms" or whatever?

Sage: Oooh....That sounds lovely.

Shadow: It is to them at least. As overbearing as most of them are sometimes, they really are good people and I'm glad to have them in my life.

Sage: Me too.

The two look back up at the sunset for a few more minutes before Sage starts turning back to Shadow.

Sage: Shadow?

Shadow: Hm?

Ssge: (Turns Away While Shyly Twiddling her Two Fingers Together) I apologize for not saying this sooner, but....(Turns Back to Shadow Again) I want to thank you so much for letting my father take the time restore me back to my physical state two months ago despite your conflicts among each.

Shadow: (Gently Ruffles the Top of Sage's Hair) Don't mention it. Your father is a pain to dwal with most of the time, but I know how much he truly cares about you. Also.....

Sage: Hm?

Shadow: (Turns Away From Sage Before Rubbing the Back of his Quills Back and Forth) You....in a way....kind of reminds of me someone I used to know in the past.....

Sage: Really? Who would that be if you don't mind me asking.

Shadow: (Turns Back to Sage) Maria Robotnik. The first and best friend I've ever made and your father's cousin.

Sage: (Gasps Loudly as She Places her Hands on Both her Cheeks) I have an auntie!?~

Shadow: (Chuckles Lightly Again) Yes, you do. (Slowly Starts to Frown at the Memory of his Best Friend) Or rather...... you....had an auntie......

Sage: (Starts Frowning Worryingly) What do mean?

Shadow: She.....(Starts Having Vivid Flashbacks of Everything that Happened on the Ark That Day Before Letting Out a Heavy Sigh) She'd passed away fifty years ago on the Ark.....Before she was able to send me to Earth.

Sage: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock as She Covers her Mouth and Let's Oit Another Gasp) Oh no.....(Move her Hand Away From her Mouth as She Bows Her Head Down to Shadow) You have my condolences.....

Shadow: (Smiles Sadly at Sage Before Gently Ruffling her Hair Again) Thank you, Sage. But it's okay. Like I said, It happened fifty or so years ago and I'm sure she wouldn't want me to dwell on it too much. (Looks Back Up at the Sunset) That being said, I sometimes do wonder what life would be like if she's here right now. She would've love you instant.

Sage: (Eyes Begins to Sparkle) She would?~ Truly?~

Shadow (Turns Back to Sage with a Smile on his Face) Yes. Very truly. If she loves a mess of a rodent like myself after all these years, then I see no problem taking a liking to you.

Sage: (Immediately Starts Pouting at the Ultimate Lifeform in Front of Her) Shadow! You shouldn't talk poorly about yourself like that! You are not a mess and you are CERTAINLY not a rodent. You are a wonderful hedgehog and you should be treated as such.

Shadow: (Chuckles Lightly) You're too kind. ('Sigh') But seriously, if you lived and see through all the countless upon countless of mistakes I've made in the past, then you'd probably reconsider your opinion about me......

Sage: Making mistakes, whether or not we intend to make them, is part every beings' nature and it's impossible to avoid them from time to time. But I believe that as long as we acknowledge those mistakes and try to fix and/or learn from them, it could us grow as individuals for years, many even decades to come! You've learned from countless upon countless of mistakes of your own in the past, haven't you?

Shadow: I have. For the most part-

Sage: And does it help you improve in any way?

Shadow: Well.....It made me less thick-headed and more clear minded than I was the past.

Sage: (Smiles Proudly) Then I profoundly rest my case with no more discussions needed.

Shadow: You......really think highly of me, do you?

Sage: (Happily Nodded) I do. And I truly hope that our time together today could help strengthen our bonds as potential siblings.

Shadow: (Raises an Eyebrow in a Bit of Confusion) You want me to be your older brother?

Sage: (Gives Shadow the Puppy Dog Look) Pretty please?~

Shadow: ('Sigh') I guess it wouldn't kill me to have another child look up to me....I accept.

Sage: (Happily Squeals Before Hugging Shadow's Arm) Thank you!~ I promise I will do my very best not to aggravate you with my antics from here on out~

Shadow: (Chuckles Lightly) Come now. I don't find you aggravating at all. I enjoy your company quite a lot today.

Sage: (Starts Snuggling onto Shadow's Arm) Thank you~ I enjoy yours too, Big Brother Shadow

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