REASONS TO DATE | Park Sunghoon

❐ REASONS TO DATE | park sunghoon

precis. all the reasons why you should date sunghoon — a guide by sunghoon himself ( wc. ≃ 2.8k )

genre. fluff, humor, mutual pinning, friends to lovers

warnings. profanities, sunghoon's very bad attempt at asking you out, slightly suggestive at the end, food mentions, sunghoon is a lil' shit, mentions of stress due to school ( who r we even kidding ) ps. i ran this thru editor but if u still still spot mistakes, pls forgive me ty </3

note. always count on tumblr to ruin your headers <3 anyway, happy reading !

even though he acts like a love god, sunghoon is actually a failure in the love department of life.

it’s embarrassing, funny and pitiful at the same time to watch him confess to you— or rather, talk about how much of a blessing he is to this earth, and that you should be honoured for he’s offering you the golden opportunity to date him.

so just like always, sunghoon finds himself sitting next to you before classes, a soft smile dancing on his lips. one may find it painful to not be in the same class with their crush but sunghoon, he doesn’t care. you can always spot him next you before and after classes, during lunch, from home to school and back, even more. and as much as he wishes people would assume you both are dating, there’s only one rumour that spins in the air— sunghoon doesn’t have any shame, and you don’t have the guts to accept your feelings towards him.

but cut to the base line, the truth is a whole another story.

“we should date, y’know?” sunghoon smirks, pointing at you and himself simultaneously as he leans further on the desk next to you for a better look at your face. “you and me.”

you sigh, leaning against the chair. “sunghoon, it’s eight in the morning.”

“and, your point is?”

“my point is that i’m not mentally prepared for this now,” which is partially a lie, partially. mornings are for classes and crying over how your days always start with maths lessons. however, having sunghoon by your side is always appreciated, even though he’s annoying.

“you don’t even have to do much,” he rests his head on his palms, shooting you his infamous smirk as a few students around pretend to gawk at this utterly cheap attempt at flirting. “just say yes when i ask you out on a date.”

“why should i?”

and he sits straight on the chair as if he’s about to present the ten slides long presentation about why you both would be a good couple — which it is, to be specific, except there are no slides, just him rambling, hoping to make sense. and you are enjoying it to bits. “don’t you want everyone to be jealous of you and say, ‘oh my god, yn, your boyfriend is so handsome and hot—”

“no.” you interject, a few chuckles emerging from the stray gazes that have been lingering on you ever since you stepped into the campus. “besides, jake is much much handsome-er than you. even his accent is hot.” and you can hear jake snickering in your head, telling you to keep him out of your lovey-dovey business.

“hey, i can mimic his accent too!” he whines with an offended grimace, and every second testing your ability to keep a straight face. “like, let’s gaur on a date,” he says in a cocky tone, shooting you a smirk accompanied with a wink and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you’ve seen enough for today.

“yeah, you’re done. now leave, i have to finish this assignment before science class.” you push his arms, beckoning him to leave while shaking your head in disgust. hearing him imitate, or more like satirise, australian accent was the last thing you were expecting today. you look at him through a peripheral gaze, lips curving into a faint smile at the pout on his face as he stands up, rolling his out.

“geez, and i thought the all rounder yn always finished assignments on time,” you shoot him a glare, hoping no one heard his satirical remark because you definitely don’t want your classmates snitch about how science teacher’s favourite student forgot to do her assignments, and if you’re being honest, you’ve been forgetting to do all the assignments lately. “anyway, see you at lunch, sweetheart.”

it’s an endearment you can never get used to. no amount of banters thrown at sunghoon can ever deny the fact that sunghoon calling you sweetheart made you feel unspeakable things. “i’m fasting today,”

you look up, he has already left. a silly smile makes its way to your lips as you get back to your classwork. so, just as always, cut to the base line, the truth is— sunghoon is aware of your feelings towards him, and you’re set on rejecting him until the end of time; or in this case, until the end of finals, which is due in three weeks.

.

.

.

it’s been ten minutes since you entered the canteen and sunghoon is nowhere to be seen. eating alone is something you’ve despised all your life. you can simply join a bunch of students right now and they would welcome you as if you’ve been their friends for eternity, but your eyes are busy looking for the special someone in the multitude. that is, until you feel someone slide in the empty chair next to you.

“thought you ditched me.” you pout and oh god, you never expected yourself to pout in sunghoon's absence.

“you were waiting for me?” there’s amusement in his voice, a dust of pink adorning his cheeks before his lips morph into a smirk. “my my, yn, are you in love with me?” there it is, the usual sunghoon; and he’s lucky you’re in love with him or else it would’ve been his face and your fist.

“ignoring that,” you roll your eyes. “what took you so long?”

“oh, it’s miss kang and her darned projects,” an exasperated sigh escapes his lips as he leans against the chair, closing his eyes for a brief second before resting his gaze on you. “moving on, have you ever thought about dating me? it’s a golden chance, once in a lifetime.” he brings up the same topic again, pretending he hasn’t been pestering you about the ‘ pros of dating park sunghoon’ for one month and ten days, now. ( yes you count. no you will not tell why )

“how are you not tired of him yet?” sunghoon snickers as sunoo’s voice interrupts his ‘moment’. no, sunoo has no reason to eavesdrop on you and sunghoon’s existingly nonexistent love life. the stars are against him and just happened to pass by. besides if you ask him, sunoo would rather do riki’s assignments for a week than offering to hear about what goes on between you and sunghoon.

you shrug, taking a bite from your lunch. “beats me,”

“hey, if she can tolerate you then of course can handle me as well,” you hear sunoo curse under his breath, sunghoon breaking into mocking laughter and gosh, you are not ready for whatever’s coming up.

“yeah, now stop it you two,” you interrupt before letting things take a turn for worse, a frown settling on sunoo’s face and you figured it was because he could’ve come up with an amazing comeback if you didn’t cut in. “sunoo i have some council work to handle so please tell mr han that i wouldn’t be able to attend his class.” you get up from your seat, feeling sunghoon’s disapproving gaze linger on your unfinished lunch.

and student council work is an excuse. the real is to escape sunoo’s and sunghoon’s endless bickering. truthfully, you do have a lot of pending work because of council. somedays, you would sit inside your class, filling papers and checking reports while letting your eyes trace over all the students having fun in their own bubble, all those who don’t have to worry about school funds and organising functions. all those who do not stray further away from mental stability with every passing day, to put it in jungwon’s words.

you greet the fellow council members, taking a seat in the meeting room for the availability of better privacy and avoid people disturbing you every now and then. people as in sunghoon, and sunghoon because as much as you appreciate and adore his presence, you want to get over with the due work before being offered with another stressful bunch.

amidst all the papers and silence, your eyes take notice of the flavoured milk resting on the table corner opposite to you. you hadn’t seen it before, maybe because you were too busy analysing the documents to let your attention wander on anything else. you grab the drink, there’s a post-it note on it, and you smile at the handwriting.

‘learn to take care of yourself <3’

.

.

.

you hear the muffled footsteps of students pacing through the corridor, signifying that the class is over. you check the time, five minutes before the next class starts and if you don’t depart now, you’ll be late. and honestly, you could care less. classes are the least of your concerns right now. your mind has been rather fixating on a certain someone for the past hour. you step out, closing the door before your eyes land upon the said ‘someone’ leaning against the wall with his characteristic smirk. a smile grows on your lips.

“how long have you been waiting?” you ask as sunghoon leads you down the stairs, not caring about the location because wherever it’ll be, it’ll be with him.

“twenty minutes? i was kicked out of class for napping,” as expected from him. besides being amazing at figure skating and nailing extracurricular charts, sunghoon is also good at getting kicked out of the class and detentions. he has a record, quite an impressive one— most number of detentions in november 2021.

he says it’s one of his charms. it may be, not many have the charms of getting detentions once every two to three days. not kicking him out is blatant favouritism, and one might as well add that his charms are hypnotic, for he has every teacher wrapped around him with his honey drizzled words. you agree, you really do. park sunghoon is charming, and a man with charms with a very dangerous thing.

before you realised, you were sneaking towards the school’s terrace, silent footsteps through the hallways to avoid getting caught. however, much to your disappointment, you hear sunghoon’s name echo from a few classrooms behind, making you curse internally. being friends with sunghoon is risky, and skipping classes with him is equivalent to digging your own grave. you feel his hand slide in yours as he pulls you to your right, rushing down the stairs to a much secluded area of the school, finally pulling you inside the art room before shutting the door. trouble follows sunghoon, and this time you’re entangled in its grip as well.

he leans against the walls of the art room— which is currently not in use due to renovation— panting to catch his breath and you can swear, you’ve never seen him look so hot before. “you should date me, yn.”

there it is again. just when you think you should stop with this whole game, giving into your feelings and dating him, sunghoon messes up, straying away from the much awaited opportunity of calling you his lover. “i don’t know why i should date you when i have jake,”

“because dating me is fun.” he replies immediately as if he has been anticipating your statement with an answer residing at the tip of his tongue. “you get a comedian and a model in one.”

and you deadpan. “i do not want a comedian boyfriend.”

he takes a long pause while you try to suppress your laughter. his gaze avoids your sight, fluttering all over the room as he tries to come up with a good reply because hell, he did not just rejected for having god tier humour. actually, sunghoon has believed two things in his life. one, people like humour and second, people like him. and your reply, well, he’s not taking it well. not yet.

but then his eyes perk up, shifting back to you. “i’m hot— literally. my hands are warm unlike yours.” oh, well, he’s not lying. you have terribly cold hands, and you thank god sunghoon is confident enough to stuff your hands inside his pockets, fingers interlaced with yours; and of course you have to pay him back in terms of snacks and your exam notes.

“that’s your reason?” you laugh. who wouldn’t? his awful attempts at flirting are the reasons why jake has saved his number as ‘no bitches,’ with the pleading face emoji. however, if you’d ask sunghoon, he claims he’s single by choice not by fate, and everyone agrees because whatever helps him sleep at night, is all that matters. “thought you’d be better at this, sunghoon.”

“i’m better at many other things though,” something shifts in the air. you look at sunghoon, and his eyes meet yours before landing on your lips, making your heart skip a beat; or actually, a few beats.

the silence is deafening, or maybe it’s not. rather, the silence is dripping with the sexual tension between you, sunghoon and the utter realization that you both are on thin ice, considering you’ve been spotted by a teacher who is probably looking for you like some treasure hidden in the hills.

he takes a small step towards you, tilting his head towards your lips and you let out the fakest laugh possible, wanting to bury yourself six feet under ground because the embarrassment is engulfing you. you look at his face— god, you wish you didn’t. it’s overflowing with confusion, a hint of blush on his cheeks. great, because you did not just cockblock your own crush, who is very much aware of your feelings, by the way.

but you have a reputation to maintain, and the elephant in the room is making it harder for you to formulate your thoughts. so you come up with a question, the best you could’ve done. “how is your project coming out?”

and you wait. an awkward smile on your lips, eyes begging him to say something because the silence is eating you, devouring you— digesting you, even. you scream internally. god speed your love and support towards me.

“i just came up with another reason why you should date me.” now that isn’t something you’d expect from someone who just got cockblocked by his own crush. but again, we’re talking about sunghoon and with sunghoon, anything is possible. besides, you should be glad a conversation is happening after your recent actions.

“what is it?”

“you get to kiss me.” yeah no, he’s unbelievable. there’s a shit eating grin on his face as he inches a little closer and you hate him for making your heart escalate infinitely. “people die to do that, y’know?”

“well, i’m not interested.” you respond, averting your eyes and trying to play it cool.

sunghoon meets your eyes once again. “you’re missing out,”

“i don’t care,”

“you should at l— ,”

“not intereste—”

“is it so hard to tell that i want to kiss you?”

“then do it.” a heavy silence follows with both of you looking at each other with lovestruck gazes. you feel your words echo inside your head, cheeks heating up at your close proximity and before you know it, his lips are on yours while his arms snake around your wait, pulling you closer when you kiss back.

your mind goes blank. he’s kissing you. park sunghoon is kissing you; and you’re kissing back, of course, anyone would. like he said— people die to do that. it’s simple, really— his fingers ghost up your waist, cupping your cheeks, shared breaths twirling between soft gasps for air. and your thought process is just an incoherent chant of ‘we’re going to die if we got caught,’ and ‘at least, i’ll die kissing sunghoon,’— as idiotic as it sounds.

you swear you can hear footsteps approaching and you’re definitely not mistaken. you try to pull away, only for him to tilt your head and deepen the kiss and as fun as it sounds, making out with sunghoon is the last thing teachers want to see you doing after skipping classes together.

you’re done. this time, for real. you count your demerits in your head, one for skipping classes, one for doing scandalous things with him— but then he faintly nibbles on your bottom lip, and you’re gone. your arms circle around his neck, the footsteps are getting louder with every second that passes, your heart racing at an unbelievably high pace.

but then he pulls back, much to your disappointment, leading you inside a very messy closet, if anything. you’re unable to formulate your thoughts. the feeling of his lips lingers on you, keeping you away from thinking reasonably. you hear the door open, a few voices emerging from behind the closet door, and sunghoon pins you against one of the walls inside the closet, lips hovering dangerously close to yours.

“now, let’s keep quiet, yeah?” and then he kisses you again.

K.SM. — THE SUBTLE ART OF LOVING YOU.

pairing. kim seungmin x gn reader

genre. fluff, best friends to lovers au, slight angst

warnings. food, mild cursing, reader is extremely tsundere lmao

summary. the 5 times seungmin tries and heroically fails to hold your hand and the one time he finally does. (or, seungmin's endeavors to overcome his innate dislike for initiating physical touch in a nutshell.)

length. oneshot

word count. 4.6k

[1.]

Kim Seungmin is very practiced when it comes to loving you in the dark. 

He knows you wouldn’t have it any other way. Both of you have grown familiar with your eccentric dynamic, this dynamic of feigned nonchalance and subtle gestures of quiet thoughtfulness. Seungmin would even go as far as to say that he enjoys it— enjoys leaving iced cups of taro bubble tea by your desk without as much as a note or buying a jumbo package of shin ramyun to drop off by the doorway of your apartment whenever he stops by the supermarket because he knows how much you adore ramen (although he personally can’t seem to understand the hype about it). 

The only problem is that it doesn’t leave much room for relationship growth. 

Because as much as he enjoys it all, there are times where he would very much like to wrap his arms around your waist in a backhug whenever you stop by his apartment to watch the latest episode of A Business Proposal with him on Netflix, or brush away a stray strand of hair that falls into your eyes whenever you drag him to the local cat café despite his protests that he gets cat hair stuck all over his sweater every time he goes. Except he can’t, because he just knows you’ll turn to stare at him, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed, and ask him what he wants for him to act so nice. 

(He doesn’t really want anything. He just can’t express his undying love for you out loud and instead resorts to small gestures and little acts of service as an attempt to convey how much in love he is with you. It evidently doesn’t work, of course, but still.)

And then he’ll have to act nonchalant and make some joke about wanting you to buy him an iced americano at the newest café that recently opened up so that your dynamic will go back to being how it usually is and he’ll be stuck at square one yet again. 

If he were as naturally clingy as Hyunjin or Felix, he knows that it would be absolutely no problem initiating physical touch with you. Hyunjin is someone who inherently needs to be linking arms with someone at least once a day in order to function properly, and Felix simply just adores cuddling to an extent that it comes as naturally as breathing to him. But the problem is that he isn’t as clingy as Hyunjin or Felix, and initiating physical touch has never come easily to him. 

Despite all of this, his want to share physical contact with you refuses to go away. It doesn’t really have to be something big, he decides. Maybe just a brush of his hand against your waist whenever you push past him or the steady weight of his shoulder pressing into yours whenever you sit next to each other. Most of all, though, he really, really wants to hold your hand. 

It starts off as a small fantasy, just a casual observation to himself that went something along the lines of wow, holding your hand would be really nice, actually. But after a while, it grows into a bit of an obsession. 

What can he say? You have nice hands and he just really wants to feel the pressure of your fingers intertwined with his own. So it’s only natural that he finds himself attempting to muster up the courage to place his hand over yours as the two of you sit by the plush red chairs of the library, studying for the upcoming physics exam. 

You’re reading through the textbook, eyebrows furrowed as you skim over the pages and pages of complex formulas and diagrams. Your hand rests on the table, just a couple of inches away from his own. Seungmin stares at it through his wire-rimmed glasses and tries to convince himself that reaching out to hold your hand is not the big deal that he’s making it out to be. 

Of course, he doesn’t actually manage to convince himself, but he tries his best, anyway. Pressing his lips together in a firm line, he makes an effort to move his hand a bit closer to your own and ends up backpedaling at the last second. 

“Seungmin.”

Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts. Glancing up, he stares at you expectantly, a hand coming up to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed. “You look like you’re having an identity crisis or something.”

Seungmin quickly clears his throat, forcibly pushing any thoughts about holding your hand to the back of his mind as he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

You snort. 

“Stop studying at 4 am on schoolnights, then. No wonder why you’re so exhausted all the damn time.”

“I’m just being a prestigious student,” he protests lightly, glaring at you. You roll your eyes but don’t make a move to oppose him, instead choosing to move your hand to flip to the next page of the textbook. 

Seungmin watches, aghast, as you place your hand in your lap after doing so— a good two feet away from his own hand. 

And just when he was about to find the guts to hold your hand. 

Gritting his teeth, he tells himself to pull it together. After all, the exam’s coming in just a few days and he has to stay focused and not think about how nice it would be to have your hand in your own. Even if the idea is very alluring. 

Even so, he finds himself thinking about intertwined hands for the rest of the study session. 

[2.]

Seungmin feels like crying. 

Your hand lies on the smooth surface of the breakfast table, quite literally a centimeter away from his own. If he moves his hand just slightly to the left, your hands will touch. 

Seungmin wants, wants it so bad he almost feels like stamping his feet like a fucking five-year old in frustration. 

But Jisung and Minho are sitting right across from you and he just knows that they’ll notice right away if he presses his hand against your own and he most definitely does not need them bursting into loud catcalls and whistles right in the middle of the breakfast. 

Instead, he watches as Jisung attempts to fit three fluffy pancakes from the college cafeteria into his mouth without choking. Minho watches on with mirth dancing in his eyes, even going so far as to shove the pancakes further down his throat in an attempt to make room for a fourth. Jisung gags around the pancakes, eyes watering, but shoots Minho a thumbs up, gesturing for him to try and add another pancake. 

Seungmin sips his glass of orange juice and watches in silent disapproval as Minho proceeds to spear another pancake onto his fork and press it into the stuffed cavern of Jisung’s mouth. He isn’t quite sure what led to this entire situation, and feels a vague sense of worry for Jisung, who looks as if he’s about to throw up. 

You stifle a peal of laughter as Minho attempts to push the pancakes even further into Jisung’s mouth. Seungmin gives your forearm a rebuking smack, glaring at you. You glare right back at him. 

“Why’d you hit me?”

“You shouldn’t encourage such behavior.”

You shrug. “Chan’s coming back in a few moments and he’ll make sure Jisung coughs up the pancakes right away. Might as well enjoy the sight while it lasts. Besides, Jisung can’t possibly fit another pancake—”

Jisung shoves a fifth pancake into his mouth. 

“Well,” you say, staring at Jisung with a mixture of glee and worry in your voice, “I’m sure Chan will be back very soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t bother replying, because he knows you’re right. If Chan had a role in the entire friend group, he’d probably be the dad. Slightly overprotective, prone to crack terrible jokes at any given moment, and perpetually exhausted. Chan fits the role quite well. 

Sure enough, Chan makes his appearance a few seconds later, his tray stacked with French toast and yogurt. He quickly makes Jisung swallow down the pancakes, scolding him for “almost killing himself” while Minho watches on in quiet amusement. 

Felix and Hyunjin arrive at the table a few minutes later, dragging along with them a half-asleep Jeongin. You frown. 

“Is Changbin not coming?”

“Changbin’s skipping class today,” Hyunjin says, “he’s still getting over his hangover.”

Minho scoffs. 

“Serves him right for drinking on a weekday.” 

Hyunjin shrugs and slips into the seat next to Minho, tugging Jeongin along with him, who promptly lays his cheek against the breakfast table and falls asleep again. 

“Must have had a tough night,” you say, glancing over Jeongin’s sleeping form. 

Felix nods. 

“He was up all night trying to figure out derivatives. He was almost in tears.” 

You nod sympathetically, leaning forward to reach across the table and brush his bangs away from his forehead, revealing the dark circles underneath his eyes. 

Seungmin watches in silence and wonders if he will ever experience such tenderness from you. After all, it is one thing to want, and another to have. 

[3.]

Seungmin enjoys spending his weekends in the comfort of his own apartment. The weekdays are hectic enough with all his college duties and whatnot and he enjoys having Saturday and Sunday completely to himself, spending hours lounging on the couch while scrolling through his phone and ordering takeout. 

In fact, he is just about to settle down into his bed and spend the next four hours binge watching a recent k-drama that he’s been into when you burst into his apartment. 

Seungmin jumps at the sound of his door slamming open, although the sound of your voice is enough to reassure him that it’s only you and not some psychopathic murderer who somehow managed to break into his apartment. 

“Yah, Kim Seungmin.”

He looks up to see you standing by the doorway of his bedroom, arms folded across your chest. Seungmin looks up at you from his phone and sighs. “I really shouldn’t have given you my spare house key.”

You brush away his comment dismissively, coming forward to tug him out of bed. “Whatever. Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“Where are you dragging me this time?”

“The Seoul Lantern Festival,” you say, “I’ve been wanting to see it recently but I haven’t found the time.”

“Can we go see it some other time? I kind of don’t want to get out of bed.”

You thrust a coat into his arms as you attempt to drag him to the doorway of his apartment. “That’s too bad. We’re going anyway.”

Seungmin curses under his breath, frowning, but pulls on his sneakers anyways after you tug him to the doorway and wait expectantly. You watch complacently as he ties his shoelaces and grin down at him when he glances up to glare at you, your smile dripping with faux sweetness. 

“You’re the best, Seungminnie.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

Humming, you reach out a hand to pull him up by the wrist. For a long moment, Seungmin thinks that you’re about to lace your fingers with his own to pull him along and stares, breathless, at your fingers wrapped around his wrist. But then you quickly let go after pulling him into a standing position and stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to step out of the apartment. 

Seungmin swallows down the bitter bile of disappointment that forces its way up his throat. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected anything more. You skip along next to him as the two of you make your way down the staircase of the complex. Seungmin allows himself a small glance at you in his peripheral vision, taking in your flushed cheeks and windblown hair. You are so carelessly beautiful that he cannot help but ache whenever he sets his eyes on you.

But then you turn to look at him and Seungmin quickly glances away, feigning nonchalance. 

“Why didn’t you ask Chan or something? You know I hate going out on weekends.”

“Chan’s been working on his track,” you shrug. “I didn’t want to bother him.”

“What about Minho?”

You stare at him. 

“Minho would have kicked me out of his apartment before I had even finished asking him to come.”

Fair enough. Minho hates going out on weekends even more than Seungmin does. 

“Okay, well, what about Hyunjin? You know he adores going out, especially with friends.”

You let out a huff of frustration, eyebrows furrowed irritably. “Hyunjin’s probably busy or something,” you say, waving your hand dismissively, “so I had no choice but to ask you.”

Even so, your ears color bright red as you trot along briskly, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Seungmin grins. 

“So you actually wanted to see the festival with me? That’s so—” 

You quickly shut him up by slugging him hard on his arm while glaring at him menacingly. “I’ll murder you in your sleep if you even think about finishing that sentence.”

Groaning, he clutches at his arm and meekly shuts up. 

By the time you’ve reached the festival, it’s already late. They chose to hold the festival by the bridge this year, lighting up the water of the canal with a thousand different lanterns in a multitude of shapes and colors. And even if he’d much rather be lounging on the couch of his apartment right now, Seungmin has to admit that the view is stunning. You stand by the edge of the water and watch as the lanterns float past, breathless and panting as your eyes slide over the brilliant glow. 

You are busy snapping a picture of a cat lantern when Seungmin comes to stand by you. Your hands just slightly graze each other, and Seungmin can just feel the cool press of your skin against his own. If he just moves his hand a little, he’ll be able to interlock your fingers and—

You take your hand away to brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

Fuck. 

Seungmin spends the rest of the festival thinking about what things could have been if that goddamn strand of hair had not ruined everything. 

[4.]

“The problem is that you’re too hesitant,” Jisung informs Seungmin through a thick bite of brownie. 

Seungmin groans, threading his fingers through his hair. “I know I’m too hesitant! That’s the entire problem! I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Jisung nods sympathetically as he listens, taking another thoughtful bite of brownie. Seungmin never thought he’d ever find himself coming to Jisung out of all people for counseling, but here he is, anyway. 

“You just have to do it. Like, don’t even think about it. Just grab their hand.”

Actually, Seungmin doesn’t understand why he chose to ask Jisung for advice in the first place, considering the fact that his relationships rarely last for any longer than a month. Given his easy-going personality and attractive visuals, it’s not as if Jisung doesn’t have an unending list of admirers. But someone like Jisung has always been too busy to date, and his relationships almost always end in messy breakups due to lack of quality time. 

Then again, Seungmin is desperate.

“So I just.. go for it? Like just reach out and hold their hand?” 

Jisung nods earnestly. 

“Yup. Just like that.”

Doubt curls through Seungmin’s chest as he considers Jisung skeptically. “That genuinely sounds like the worst plan I’ve—” 

Jisung shuts him up with a dismissive snort. 

“Just try it,” he implores, “it’ll be fine.”

Seungmin still thinks that the entire idea is terribly impulsive and very much likely to lead into a catastrophe. But Jisung looks at him with such conviction in his eyes that Seungmin finds himself agreeing to give the plan a try, although he threatens to never buy him cheesecake again if the plan fails. 

He meets up with you the next day at your apartment because you insisted on rewatching Vincenzo with him. Jisung tags along just to supervise and make sure that Seungmin finally manages to succeed in holding your hand and brings Chan along with him because he refuses to “be the third-wheel.” Seungmin argues that it’s kind of impossible to be the third-wheel when it’s you and him, especially since you interact with him solely through threats and menacing gazes, but Jisung insists on coming along anyway. 

By the time the fourth episode starts playing, Jisung has started to pester Seungmin incessantly, tapping at his shoulder and nodding towards you, gesturing wildly (but as subtly as possible) for Seungmin to attempt to hold your hand. Seungmin eventually gives in after Jisung starts full-on smacking him on the arm, sighing and motioning for Jisung to settle down. 

Taking a deep breath, he inhales deeply and reaches across your lap to grab your hand. He doesn’t even bother looking sideways, too nervous to manage to meet your eyes. There’s a bead of sweat gathering by his temple as he gropes blindly, searching for your hand. 

Instead, his hand grabs something firm and slightly fleshy. 

There is a long silence as Seungmin slowly turns his head to see his arm, stretched across your lap, and his hand, firmly grasping Chan’s thigh, missing your hand by a good six inches. Chan lets out a surprised gulp as he stares down at Seungmin’s hand, turning to glance at Seungmin questioningly. 

Jisung facepalms so loudly that the sound of his palm smacking against his forehead resonates through the room. 

Seungmin blushes furiously and quickly withdraws his hand, mumbling a hasty apology. Chan brushes off his apology good-naturedly, although his ears are colored red. You stare at him confusedly as he hurriedly retracts his hand, perplexity written across your face. 

Fucking Han Jisung and his stupid fucking ideas, Seungmin thinks, pointedly turning to glare at Jisung accusingly. Jisung ignores his ominous gaze as he obstinately stares at the screen of the TV and plays with the rings on his fingers. 

There is something like suppressed laughter on his face, and Seungmin officially decides to never get Han fucking Jisung another white chocolate raspberry cheesecake ever again, no matter how desperately he begs. 

[5.]

“Yah, Kim Seungmin,” you say, your voice grainy through the phone. “You still haven’t eaten lunch yet? Idiot. It’s already 4 pm. Come over, I’ll cook something for you.” 

“Okay,” Seungmin whispers, and smiles to himself. 

God, he likes you so, so much. 

When he arrives at your apartment, you’re leaning over the stovetop, an apron tied around your waist. He comes to stand next to you, observing the chicken soup that you’re stirring over a low heat. You don’t look up from the soup as you gesture towards the dishwasher. 

“Go get some bowls. The soup’s almost ready.” 

Seungmin obediently makes his way to the dishwasher, grabbing two porcelain bowls and placing them next to you on the countertop. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to cook me soup, you know.”

You let out an indignant scoff. 

“Bold of you assume that I cooked the soup for you.” 

Seungmin gives a soft chuckle. When he has spent so much time around you, it is easy to see right through you. Even so, he doesn’t say anything. 

You spoon the fragrant broth of the soup into the bowls and carry them to the dining table, gesturing for Seungmin to sit down. You drink your soup in silence, giving an approving nod at the rich, saltiness of the broth. Seungmin watches you quietly, longing ripping at his throat. 

Your hand is placed right in between the two of you— it comes so naturally to Seungmin that it almost feels surreal. 

You watch, silent, as he gently reaches up to run his fingertip along the inside of your forearm, slowly making his way up to your wrist. Your skin is smooth and warm underneath his touch— he can feel your pulse beating wildly underneath the thin skin of the inside of your wrist. For a long moment, the two of you sit in silence, eyes trained to the fingertip he drags across the back of your hand. 

And yet, just as he’s about to wrap his fingers around your hand, you quickly yank your hand away, ears red. Seungmin stares at you questioningly as you lift your hand to place it into your lap, bending down to sip at your soup. 

There is a light dusting of pink across your cheeks and a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. You seem adamant to ignore his gaze as you stare down at your bowl of soup. 

Seungmin has always hated making assumptions. But he can’t help but wonder if you want him just as much as he wants you. 

[+1]

It is exhausting to be in love with someone like you. 

Seungmin knows it. He knows it too well. 

You are so full of contradictions that Seungmin never truly knows what you want. It is hard to love someone who pushes you away even as they draw you in closer, who is so brittle at the edges, and yet so soft underneath. 

But then you will tell him to dress warmer unless he wants to catch a cold, in that nonchalant voice of yours. You’ll tell him to stop skipping his meals, the warmth of your words buried underneath your careless facade. You’ll slip into his bedroom and place a mug of green tea by his desk whenever he’s studying himself sick, silent as you set it down next to him. And Seungmin will remember, yet again, why he fell for you in the first place. 

You text him a few days later, telling him to come over for a study session after you’ve finished with class. He agrees promptly, partially because he could never resist when it comes to you, and partially because he really needs to figure out chemical entropy and thinks that a study session would be quite beneficial. 

When he arrives at your apartment, your bedroom door is sealed tightly shut and you are nowhere to be found. 

Seungmin slowly makes his way to the bedroom doorway and knocks apprehensively, hesitant. 

“Go away,” you say, voice muffled. 

Seungmin opens the door anyway. 

He is greeted by the sight of a lump on your bed. It squirms a little when he comes in, indignant. “Seungmin, I told you to—” 

Seungmin sits by the side of your bed and tugs at the blankets cocooned around your body. You clutch tightly at the sheets, refusing to let him unravel the thick swaddle of blankets. Seungmin lets out a tired sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say. You are uncharacteristically quiet after that. 

Seungmin finally succeeds in yanking the sheets out of your fists and you tumble out of the swathe of blankets, sprawling onto the bed. Seungmin’s breath catches in his throat as your eyes meet his own. 

They are red-rimmed and brimming. Just a brief second of eye contact causes the tears to spill over, leaving warm salty streaks across your cheeks. 

Seungmin stares at you blankly as you cry and wonders what the fuck he should do. After all, he has seen you do a lot of things, but crying is not one of them. 

He’s never seen you like this, curled up on the bed sheets, eyes glazed and glassy, impossibly fragile as the tears trail down your cheeks. For someone so brittle, you fall apart so easily underneath his gaze. 

Very slowly, he sits down by your bedside. “What happened? Did someone say something?”

You don’t say anything. 

So Seungmin takes your hand in his own and guides you to him, wrapping his arms around your torso. You bury your face into his shoulder, clutching tightly at the hem of his t-shirt and—

Oh, this is quite nice, actually. 

You’re curled up against him, tears seeping into the cloth of his shirt. And Seungmin has never been this close to you, doesn’t know how exactly to act when you’re pressed up to him like this, trembling in his arms. But he presses you closer, anyways, and allows you to soak his shirt, even though it’s a relatively new shirt and he hates to see it ruined and the wetness of your tears are kind of uncomfortable as they stick to his skin. 

He holds you like this for a long time, until the tears finally subside. 

“Now can you tell me what happened?”

You shift against him, turning your head to press your cheek into his chest. “I just had a really bad day.” 

Seungmin reaches up a gentle hand to smooth over your ruffled hair. He almost feels compelled to tease you, just because it’s what’s typically expected of him in your push-and-pull relationship. But instead, he nods and pulls you closer. “That happens sometimes.” 

You exhale in agreement. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” 

Your hands are still laced together, Seungmin realizes. He almost wishes your head wasn’t pillowed on his chest right now, because he feels for sure that you can hear his racing heartbeat pulsing underneath his skin. There is a moment of silence as you press against him, squeezing his hand, before you tilt your head up to gaze at him. 

Seungmin’s cheeks flush red as you study him slowly, eyes sliding over his face. And then you’re leaning over, lips brushing across his collarbone. Seungmin’s thoughts are painted white as your free hand comes up to cup his jaw, pressing closer to graze your lips against the column of his throat, against the line of his jaw, the ridge of his cheekbone. 

A long pause, a heavy tension settling in the atmosphere of the room. And then you’re kissing. 

He isn’t sure how it happens. He isn’t sure he exactly cares. Your hands are still pressed together as you press forward to kiss him harder, lips moving against his own. You are so gentle in his arms, so yielding compared to your usual demeanor of fire and steel, that Seungmin regrets not doing this a long time ago. 

You lean back after a bit, eyes hazy as you gaze at him. Seungmin allows a moment of silence before clearing his throat to speak. 

“I can’t believe you just made out with the same guy you call an idiot at least five times a day.” 

You grin. “It’s all part of my calculated plan to get you to fall head over heels for me.” 

Seungmin thinks that he would have fallen head over heels for you either way. He doesn’t tell you, of course (he has much more sense than that) but he allows himself to think it. 

He leans forward, eyes curious as he gazes at you. “How long have you liked me for?” 

You narrow your eyes. “And why does it matter?” 

Seungmin rolls his eyes. 

“I just wanted to know,” he protests, and pokes at your thigh. “So? For how long?” 

“I don’t know,” you say, feigning nonchalance, although your red ears betray you right away. “Three years by now? It’s not like I’ve been counting.” 

(Knowing you, you most definitely have been counting.) 

“I’m kind of wounded that it took you three years to finally decide to kiss me.”

You snort. 

“I only kissed you because you were too much of a coward to do it yourself, you know.”

“Still!” Seungmin protests, “it’s hurtful to think about.”

You laugh, leaning forward to grab his hand and yank him to you. “Come here, then. I’ll kiss it better.” 

Seungmin doesn’t have to be told twice. 

love me, hate me - p. sunghoon (m)

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

college!au, frat!au, enemies to lovers!au, friends w benefits!au

warnings: smut (drunk sex, blowjob, eating out, shower sex, car sex, both unprotected & protected sex, choking (m), grinding, bathroom sex, degradation, rough sex, oral (f&m), fingering, just a lot of smut), alcohol usage, sunghoon and the reader being extremely rude to each other, sunghoon is an asshole, lots of sexual tension

genre: smut, angst, fluff if you look close enough

word count: 30.8k+

summary:

if people thought the constant bickering of tom and jerry was something, they’ve never seen you and sunghoon in real life. even the way he breathed irritated you but there was no point in denying the sexual tension between you and him. one drunken night led to another one, and another, you found yourself going back in his bed sober. waking up next to him became a habit that you wanted to keep to yourself. the only thing about sunghoon that you didn’t hate was his capability of making you orgasm more than twice with only his fingers.

or

in which sunghoon found himself falling harder for you but didn’t even have the courage to admit it to himself, not when you hated him with everything you got.

If you told somebody that you and Park Sunghoon used to be best buddies throughout middle school and high school, they would just tell you to quit joking. It was the truth, though, you and Sunghoon used to be close friends before college. But that was before he decided to fuck up and made you hate him with everything you’ve got. The cute dimple on his right cheek when he threw a dashing smile was like a mask to cover his real identity. You admit that his single dimple was cute, but under that façade, he was no longer the pretty boy everyone thought he was. If only people knew Park Sunghoon the way you did. The things he had done to you, making the rest of your high school senior year a living hell.

Keep reading

http://do-u-luv-me? ➢ yang jungwon.

SYNOPSIS ♡⃛ in which you didn’t expect your secret admirer from your bubblegum kpop blog ( predominately made for hit girl group ‘girlDoll’ ) to be one of your obnoxious classmates: soccer playing slacker yang jungwon.

[ word count : 16k ]

PAIRING ♡⃛ yang jungwon x reader

GENRE ♡⃛ fluff, light angst, enemies to lovers

WARNINGS ♡⃛ traces of bullying, light swearing

a/n: hii :>> i’m back again but with a nice, soft piece this time to cleanse your pallet hehe ♡ ( it’s so long im sorry T-T ) id love some feedback if you enjoy this fic, i adore hearing your thoughts :-) all interactions are deeply appreciated but reblogs are highly encouraged! :> thank you for your support and happy reading. :> ♡

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▹ 7:34am | forgirlDoll: GUYSSSS!! guys..?.?? did anyone else see the girldoll tour announcement T-T thinking about going to the seoul one but the tickets are gonna be so expensive LOL.

httpmoonyi → forgirlDoll: I WISH THEYD COME HERE. I WANT TO SEE MY LOVE MOONYI!!!!!!. :(

kokoluvr → forgirlDoll: STOPP I SAW THAT?? and ikrrr the utter audacity to price those tickets so high when god knows i’m broke 😌 love that for me

forgirlDoll → kokoluvr: i know :(( i’m so sad i wanna be able to see ireun up close. ALL of them up close. but it’s ok i shall stream the tour illegally somewhere :D don’t tell anyone tho

kokoluvr → forgirlDoll: YEESS same imagine looking at koko irl 🤤 literally so depressed rn . remember u said next time they go on tour me n u were going tho 😏 huh huh…??? 😏

kisses4ireun → forgirlDoll: let’s go together. just you and me.. i’ll buy your ticket ^_^

your heart skips a beat at the sight of kisses4ireun’s comment on your post.

forgirlDoll → kisses4ireun: wait really :( i’d love to go with you juyang but it’s gonna cost so much T-T

kisses4ireun → forgirlDoll: i don’t care i just wanna see my favorite girl group with my favorite girl :(

forgirlDoll → kisses4ireun: JUYANGGGG 😭

you slam your laptop closed shut on top of your striped pajama-clad thighs, your palms flying up to your heating cheeks to cover the expanse of your face. your heart was pounding loudly against the cage of your chest like it always did when chatting with kisses4ireun, better known as juyang.

ever since you made the girlDoll fanpage back in june of last year, juyang has never left your mind. about a week in to making your blog, you got the notification of user kisses4ireun following you. he’d like all of your posts and comment on all of your stuff, and soon, it blossomed into a brilliant cyber relationship. he had private messaged you first about a month in, furthering your friendship even more and bonding over your love for girlDoll. it was nice, you thought, but the more you talked with him the more you tumbled down the hole of infatuation. that idea was growing rather scary to you, considering you’ve never seen each other’s faces.

but somehow, you didn’t really mind.

just the thought of you and juyang finally meeting each other at one of girlDoll’s concerts did nothing but slightly drive that fear away. you didn’t wanna get your hopes up too much though, because securing those tickets were indeed not set in stone.

you let a soft sigh pass through your parted lips, dry and cracked from slumber, the heat from the sun gleaming through your bedroom window tingling at the hairs against your exposed arms. you lift your laptop open one last time to non-shamefully check for another notification from your web crush, your heart flipping in your chest as you read his latest reply.

kisses4ireun → forgirlDoll: i just know you’d be the prettiest girl there. 😊 next to ireun of course

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to yourself that his comment made your insides instantly turn to mush. you tried to ignore the increasing speed of your concerning heart rate, pursing your lips into a line as you drag your cursor over to his reply to press the heart button. you knew you were running out of time to get ready for school, and with the sound of loud, rhythmic pounding against your tin metal roof, you knew it wasn’t gonna be a very pleasant — nor dry — tuesday morning.

so with an unenthusiastic sigh rolling out with a pitiful breath, you swing your tired legs over the side of your bed, the bottoms of your bare feet making contact with the hardwood of your bedroom floor. you lazily make your way over towards your closet, where you throw on the nearest rain-protective hoodie you could find. once you’ve adorned yourself in the appropriate outerwear, you make your way out of your front door with the slick strap of your heavy backpack over your shoulder. with the hard clunk of your black boots against the brick of your porch steps, you lift the hood of your sweatshirt up over your hair and squint your eyes up at the darkening sky.

your ears are suddenly met with the boisterous noises surrounding you and your figure amidst the outside world. with one step against your sidewalk, your curious eyes travel around the proximity of your own neighbourhood; loud engines of eager vehicles just trying to get to work on time. the loud, adolescent voices heard from your designated bus stop just around the corner. the cold, wet droplets of rain that seep through the soft material of your hoodie and melt into your hair. you let an unpleasant grunt escape your lips as you make your way down the lonesome sidewalk, hugging your arms to your chest for warmth.

the one thing that runs fluently through the files of your brain as you mentally curse at the swirling gray clouds above you, was the dreaded fear of seeing… him. everything else about your neighborhood you absolutely adored. the friendly neighbors, the variety of flowers that lined the sidewalks, the refreshing sounds of chirping birds on tree limbs and the jingling chains of a leash around a pacing dog’s neck. everything you’ve grown to love about living here. the one thing that held you back from fully embracing just the most wonderful place to live in your city of seoul, was the equivalent to dog poop on the bottom of your shoe. yang jungwon.

oh, did he get on your last nerve. not only did you have to deal with him at your hellhole of a school, but you also were blessed with his unnerving presence basically in what was supposed to be the comfort of your own home. that’s right, just two blocks away from you sat the taunting institution that reigned a habitat to your worst nightmare. you can’t even stand to look in its direction without that flea of a boy invading the privacy of your mind. his atrocity of a home wasn’t much of a jewel to look at, either. the bright blue shutters against the muddy brown tones of the exterior. shivers.

so like any sane person would do with eyeballs and a sensible knowledge of a tasteful color pallet, you avert your eyes from jungwon’s residency of death as you turn the last corner on your block. a deep inhale rises at your chest as your crowded bus stop approaches your line of sight, tightening your firm grip around your backpack straps.

and like a predator on the prowl, your eyes bounce through the clutter of students circling the end of the sidewalk in sight of he-who-shall-not-be-named. luckily, the results of your student scan deems affirmative. not a hair of his annoying head in sight. as if a weight had been lifted from the curves of your shoulders, you quicken your pace to join the crowd of students in their phone centric bus waiting.

the light breeze of october wind nips at the soft skin of your cheeks and nose, scrunching said nose up as if that’d produce any sort of heat inside its cartilage. you decide to plant your feet at the very outskirts of the student circle, comforted by your lone person. you thread your arms across your chest and peer out at the surrounding houses that trickle down the curves of the road, admiring the lazy wave of orange splotched trees that hide homes behind their spindly figures. your brain had drifted up somewhere in the clouds when a quick tap on your shoulder awakes you from your dreamy sight-seeing.

you quickly throw your head back at the source of the sudden taps, your curious eyes meeting the ones belonging to your friend, yeoul. aka, user kokoluvr from your blog. “hey, y/n.” she greets you, a pink lipped smile curving up the side of her thin lips. you admire the wind-nipped pink of her cheeks and nose, watching as strands of her black hair drift in front of her squinted eyes. your own eyes dart down to the faded blue color that outline her lips, which were tightened around the end of a blue lollipop. you watch as she lifts a hand up to grip the end of the candy’s white stick, slipping it out of her mouth to continue her words. “i come with amazing, wonderful news.”

“yeah?” you question, raising your thin eyebrows up into your forehead. “i’d love to hear it.” you let a half curve spread to your own pink lips as you study yeoul’s small, rounded features, watching her slip her blue lollipop back into the cavern of her mouth.

“so, this morning, after we chatted on your blog,” she begins, placing a hand to settle on her hip. “i went ahead and looked at ticket prices. people are saying they might lower them this year because of covid. isn’t that just freaking amazing?” she quickly goes to grab both of your shoulders, shaking them softly as she raises her thick eyebrows inches from your face. “you still wanna go with me, right?”

a pang of guilt shoots up your spine at the sincerity of her question, flashes of juyang’s comments displaying inside your brain. “ah,” you chuckle nervously, placing your own hands on top of yeoul’s broad shoulders. “uh… i don’t know… i need to see what the prices are actually. when the dates are finally released, you know?” god, you’d rather see your all time favorite group with a random boy you met on the internet then with your own childhood best friend? who you’ve actually seen in the flesh plenty of times? it was honestly a joke how much you’d disregard the latter.

you watch as yeoul’s expression falls. “oh, yeah, i know.” she mumbles softly, her eyebrows threading together. she slowly lets her hands fall back to her sides, lifting an arm up to run her fingers slowly through the fringe of her hair. “i just thought,” she shrugs, “you’d go with me anyway. even if the tickets are pricey. it’s like, a one time opportunity, you know…..?”

you suddenly begin to zone out from yeoul’s distant words once she had stepped a few inches to the side, your eyes catching something you wish you never noticed. behind her, on the far side of the sidewalk, to your dismay, sat yang jungwon on the bus stop bench. you couldn’t help but tense your body and keep your eyes locked on his figure in horror, observing the boy. he was leaned over with his elbows propped on his knees, a black leather jacket hiding a soft beige sweatshirt, the hood of it feathering over his soft black curls. his phone was secured between his hands and a white earbud cord traveled from the end of it and up into his ears.

you swallow thickly in your throat. “y/n?” you hear yeoul question, muffled by the approaching roar of the bus engine behind you. “did you hear what i said?” your eyes flick back over to yeoul’s displeased expression, a pout to her glossy lips as she eyes you sorrowfully. “you’d rather go with your little internet boy toy, right?” a soft heat flames to your cheeks.

“what? no, that’s…” you force a short chuckle to burst pass your lips. “that’s….” you’re interrupted by a loud, exaggerated sigh that blows right into your face.

“save it,” yeoul mumbles unenthusiastically, beginning to edge past you to make her way towards the bus that had just arrived at the sidewalk. “let’s just get on the bus.”

“yeoul….” you continue anxiously, as you file in behind her to head up the bus steps. “no, i mean— i said i’d go with, you right?” you chuckle nervously, as you thread your way down the aisles of seats. you follow your dark haired friend into a seat located in the back left of the bus, setting your backpack into your lap with an exasperated sigh.

“yeah, but,” yeoul grunts, leaning her side into you to reach into her back pocket, grabbing out her tangled ball of ear buds. “i can see the look on your face. you’ve changed your mind.” she lets a mock pout jut out at her lips, her long eyelashes batting down as she trains her eyes on the ball of cords, trying to untangle them carefully with her slender fingers. “all for internet boy. y/n, what if he’s a catfish?” she raises her eyebrows over at you briefly, before plugging the end of her earbuds into the bottom of her phone that she had placed on her lap. you roll your eyes at her comment, glancing over at her to examine the bulge of her lollipop pressing against her cheek. “what if you two meet at the concert and he’s a 90 year old white man with an asian fetish?”

you scoff annoyingly at your friend’s words, nudging her softly in the arm with your elbow. you hear soft air tumble from her nostrils in the form of a quiet giggle, nudging you right back into your own bicep. “he’s not a catfish….” you mumble with heat flooding to the tips of your ears, eyes looking out across the bus aisle. your eyes subconsciously roam around the vicinity of the vehicle and around at all the variety of peeking heads, an anxious pang to your stomach as you dreadfully search for that dark haired boy.

the words that yeoul had begun feeding into your ear merged with the ringing in your ear canal, eyes locking right with jungwon’s. his body had been turned to you, just a few seats in front of your eye view, a squeamish smirk to his pink lips that etched dimples into the apples of his cheeks. your heart immediately pounds against your ribcage in horror, wondering just what was going through that unpredictable boy’s mind. “y/n,” you hear yeoul begin, her body leaning forward to rummage into the front pocket of her black backpack that she had sat into her lap. “do you want this red lollipop? i won it during a kahoot game in history class yesterday, but i honestly hate cherry flavor….”

“sure.” you absentmindedly mumble, tensing with the inability to look away from jungwon. you widen your eyes quickly at him, before he swivels back forward into his seat. dread quickly fills to the brim of your stomach, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. did yang jungwon really just miss an opportunity to verbally irritate you? you’re confused, that’s for sure, feeling yeoul’s fingers around your wrist as she places the lolipop into the palm of your hand.

“here.” she mumbles, sighing as she glances up at your distracted expression. “don’t thank me or anything.”

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

you thought god had finally been on your side when you experienced absolutely zero interruptions from yang jungwon your whole entire bus ride. it was a pleasant surprise to you at least, a sudden jitter to your step as you made your way down the black, metal steps of the bright yellow vehicle. maybe, just maybe, you think, as you spin the stick of the red lollipop now nestled between your lips. maybe today is the day yang jungwon finally stops messing with me.

but that thought soon crumbles itself up and is thrown miserably into the trashcan of your failed positive thinking approach. i mean, how dare you want good for yourself? you should’ve known yang jungwon would never let that happen. as soon as you stepped foot through the double doors of your school, your dear friend yeoul now parting ways for her own class needs, you feel a heavy arm harshly fall across your shoulders.

shit. “good morning.” jungwon’s soft, teasing voice mumbles right at your ear, his strawberry flavored bubblegum wafting it’s scent right into your nostrils. you mentally grimace, clenching your jaw before only letting out a small, exhausted sigh in reply to his faulty greeting. “what, you’re not gonna say it back?”

“no.” you simply reply, letting the boy shake your shoulder with little force. you hear an airy giggle emit from his rounded nostrils as dimples tick into his cheeks, his free hand going to stuff itself into the pocket of his black leather jacket.

“i’m going to guess your morning was not good. do you want to talk about it?” and for half a second you almost believed the mock sincerity in his innocent, soft tone, one that disguised his true, devious intentions with your emotions.

“no.”

the two of you quickly file passed brushing shoulders of the crowded corridor, your grip on your backpack straps going clammy as your fingers tighten around the material. a teasing scoff tumbles from between jungwon’s pink lips as he threads his dark eyebrows together. “aw. well, i got something that will make you talk to me.”

you don’t reply to him, awaiting his next words with anticipation eating away at your stomach lining. you hear a slow, dreadful inhale rise at jungwon’s chest, before he exhales rather dramatically. “your good friend might’ve told me you’re a…..” he leans in closer to your ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “.. a girldollie.”

the gears of your brain suddenly shift to a squeaky halt, your chest feeling like it could bust open any second and send your heart flying out all onto the floor, in all its bloody, pulsing glory. “who….” you force out between your lips, your whole entire body flaming with shameful heat. “who…. told you that?” jungwon only softly shrugs, a bubblegum bubble slowly inflating from between his puckered lips.

his gum bubble pops with a soft click and you can feel the sweat beginning to bead along your brow, his arm growing warm and heavy around your shoulders. “hey, it’s okay.” he begins in a low tone, you feeling a lump growing in the pit of your throat. “if it’s true, i won’t judge you. i mean, we all have our terribly flawed, embarrassing interests. it’s totally normal.” god, you want to jump on this walking punchbag and beat the utter crap out of him.

“jungwon, i’m not in the mood. i’m gonna be late to class if you don’t get away from me.” you begin with furrowed eyebrows, your lips dipped into a frustrated frown. you were beginning to feel tears blur at your waterline, and the annoying rubbing thing this boy was doing to your shoulder was only pushing you over the edge.

“i’m sorry if i hit a nerve.” you hear him say through an amused curve to his lips, his gaze veering down towards you and fixating on the red lollipop between your cheeks. “i’ll leave you alone. thank you for the goodbye gift though, y/n.”

your brain swells with confusion, your eyebrows tense above your eyes as you part your lips. “what are you—”

jungwon then swiftly slips your lollipop from out of your mouth, and transfers it between his own lips. you can do nothing but watch the boy in shock, the color draining from your face. “mm, cherry…” he mutters, swishing the red candy ball between his cheeks. you pout as you watch him begin to slide away from you, his hands digging back into his pockets as he strides forward along the hall. you watch him throw his head back at you with an amused tilt of his lips, his eyebrows perched high above his sharp eyes. “don’t be so shy about your love for girldoll.” he calls over to you through a dimpled smirk, your lollipop wedged between his cheeks. he cups his hands around his mouth in a mock attempt to amplify his voice. “it’s kinda cute.. maybe.. a little! not really!”

you mentally curse out his stupid cute face and his stupid cute nose scrunch and his stupid cute tongue that pokes out between his perfect teeth. you were well aware he was teasing you, but how can one look so cute while doing it?

with your class just up the last flight of stairs at the end of the hall, it took everything in you not to turn around and walk right back out of the school. you were embarrassed, oh so embarrassed, absolutely positively humiliated. you cross your arms over your chest down the emptying hallway, forcing back your tears as you slowly stomp your way up the stone steps. unfortunately, you don’t think the miserable treatment from yang jungwon was ever going to end, especially not with this kind of pathetic information that he could use against you anytime and anywhere and absolutely obliviate you. oh, yeoul is gonna get it big time.

all throughout class, as you bobbed your foot impatiently against the blue tiled floor, your balled fist clenched up against your temple, you could only focus on the utter rage you felt with your friend. yeoul was the only person who’s ever known about your love for the bubbly pop trio, considering she was a big fan of theirs too. just how on earth did that ever come up between her and jungwon? your temples were starting to pulse with frustration, all the unanswered questions floating inside your mind like freshly blown bubbles, ones that would never pop. so once that lunch bell finally rang against the core of your eardrums, you flew out of your seat faster than anyone could say ‘i hate yang jungwon.’

entering through those cafeteria doors, heavy breaths heaving from your chest from just how fast you ran straight there, you immediately head towards you and yeoul’s usual round table in the left corner of the cafeteria, right next to the big window. you ignored the slight growl of your stomach and link your arms over your chest, your brows furrowed tight above your eyes. you can feel the stares that are pointed directly at your raging figure, highly aware of how much you look like a bratty toddler right now stomping through the cafeteria.

just a few more feet and you’ve spotted your prey, her long dark hair pulled up into a stupid high ponytail that accentuates her snake-like features. just a little bit closer and you watch her edge her plastic spork into her mouth, almost spotting the slithering hiss off her forked tongue. “yeoul.” you finally breathe, plopping right beside her onto the empty, blue metal stool.

her spork had halted its route at her ajar lips, her eyebrows perching high above her eyes as she snaps her gaze over towards your displeased expression. she darts her eyes quickly to the side, and you can hear the conversation the rest of your friends were having slowly fade to a whisper at your disgruntled appearance. “… yes? are you okay, y/n?”

“why did you tell yang jungwon i liked girldoll?” you whine in a whisper to her, grabbing her by her broad shoulders. “do you know what you’ve done to me, yeoul? why? why?” you groan as you lean over to let your head fall right against her chest, your eyelids squeezing shut. you feel an awkward pat to the back of your head. “why…. oh, why…my life is ruined….”

“y/n,” yeoul chuckles softly, tapping her fingers against the back of your head. “i’m sorry. it wasn’t on purpose. ms. rhee put on a playlist during our geometry quiz yesterday and heart eyes luv came on. and…. i might have accidentally mumbled a, ‘oh, me and y/n love this song,’ and he…. heard me.” you let another strangled groan string from your lips against the material of yeoul’s brown sweater, hearing another giggle breathe from her nostrils. “i’m sorry. i understand if you’re mad at me.”

“no it’s just,” you sigh sorrowfully, slowly straightening your spine back up. you run your fingers through your hair and fixate your gaze onto yeoul’s salad in a daze, your cheeks puffing with air as you nibble on your bottom lip in thought. “he’s never gonna let this go. like, ever. i might as well just walk to the end of the bus lot today and let all of the busses run me over one by one. until i’m just a sheet of mush flattened into the asphalt.”

“that’s rather…. graphic. don’t do that.” yeoul shakes her head disapprovingly at your words, setting her spork down against her salad bowl. she turns her torso to completely face you, letting her hand rest on your shoulder as she ticks her chin down at you. “listen. if jungwon bullies you about it to the point you want to become human cement, then just tell me. i’ll knock the lights out of him.” she shakes your shoulder softly for effect, causing a brief smile to curve at your lips. “remember in middle school i was on the girl’s wrestling team? yeah. and guess who wasn’t. yang mother-effing jungwon.”

you chuckle lazily at her comment, the growl of your stomach only making your terribly soiled mood even worse. “fine. i’ll let you knock the lights out of him, i guess. but if you get suspended… i’ll act like i don’t know you.”

“that’s fair.” yeoul sighs, letting her arm fall back onto her lap. she twists her torso back towards her salad and picks up her spork, stabbing a few pieces of lettuce out of her bowl. “anyway, y/n, go get some food. your stomach sounds like an injured animal.”

“fine,” you grumble, slowly slipping off your stool and rising to your feet. “but if they’re only serving nasty salad, you owe me ten bucks for making me eat a nasty salad.”

yeoul rolls her eyes playfully at your comment. “i would never do such an awful, terrible, inhumane thing to you.”

“shut up.”

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

the bus ride home was absolutely miserable. you had beat yeoul to the window seat, fortunately, and rested your forehead against the glass to gaze out the window rather dramatically. with earbuds in your ears, — shared with yeoul, of course — sugary lipz by girldoll blowing out your eardrums, your will to live slowly decreases to about a 2 percent. you could practically feel jungwon’s piercing stare in your direction, even though the seat in front of you should’ve shielded you safely from his devil laser retnas. you could have just been paranoid, but it’s better to be safe than sorry in times like these, right? especially when your well rounded reputation was on the line all because of your manic obsession with glitzy mid-20 year old teeny boppers.

once you part with yeoul at your bus stop, quickly making sure you head far enough down the sidewalk to miss an unwanted conversation with yang jungwon, you finally can let yourself relax. comforted by nothing else other than the sound of wind rippling through soft orange leaves and the soft clunks of your black boots against the concrete. you can finally exhale. now, as you mentally move on to the next part of your day, you’re ashamed to admit that thinking about texting juyang had lifted your mood a copious amount. is that pathetic? you still weren’t even sure.

so you settle into your usual striped pajamas and your giant black t-shirt that you’re not necessarily sure has been washed recently, ( it smells a little…. salt-ish? did you recently work out or exert yourself to the point of sweating? you don’t think you have… weird.. ) and you settle your back comfortably against your wooden bed frame. you let a satisfied sigh roll out between your lips as you lean over towards your bedside table to click your lamp off, straightening back up to lift the lid of your laptop that you’ve placed on top of your lap. the immediate brightness of the screen causes you to scrunch your face up, opening up a tab to login into your blog.

it’s times like these that you admire the most; relaxing in the comfort of your bed, maybe perhaps a glass of apple juice on your beside, nothing but you and your computer. you can aimlessly post and rant about all things girldoll without any interruptions. it was nice, an escape from your reality, the one that so unfortunately has yang jungwon included in it. you’re just happy your online reality has absolutely no trace of that godforsaken boy. ah, paradise.

your heart pangs inside your chest once you’ve scrolled through your notifications, eyes catching glimpses of their content. replies to your post about moonyi’s scandalous outfit choice for their recent promo, people tagging you in videos of ireun cute compilations. the notif you’re most love struck for though, is that number one flashing from your inbox icon. your heart flutters as you drag your cursor eagerly over towards it.

────────────────────────── ⍈ 3:22pm • kisses4ireun: hey 😊──────────────────────────

just the one word was enough to make your bones turn to goo.

────────────────────────── forgirlDoll: hey :) wow you texted right when i came on. r u watching me :o

kisses4ireun: haha idk maybe i am.. check outside ur window >:)

forgirlDoll: noo i don’t wanna get up pls don’t kill me lol T-T also juyang i had a terrible day today :((

kisses4ireun: oh noooo. why what happened?

forgirlDoll: well there’s this really annoying boy at school who’s been messing with me for years and im just so over it it’s gotten to the point i don’t even wanna go to school anymore. it’s someone i also used to really have a giant crush on but that was before they started messing with me T-T idk what happened i’m just so. ughhh

kisses4ireun: oh i’m so sorry :( is he bullying you badly?

forgirlDoll: well it’s not even bullying it’s like playful teasing i guess :/ but it’s still harsh!!

kisses4ireun: ohhh. maybe this boy has a crush on you. sometimes that’s how they show it. you don’t still like him right? (the correct answer is no….)

forgirlDoll: lol idk he’s got a funny way of showing it then 🤷‍♀️ also.. ughhhh i mean idk. maybe if he wasn’t so mean to me T-T i like you more tho juyang ;)

(kisses4ireun hearted this message ❤️ )

kisses4ireun: good that’s what i wanted to hear ^_^ 😆 don’t leave me for mean boy i can treat you so much better

(you hearted this message ❤️)

kisses4ireun: oh also tickets go on sale tomorrow!! i’m gonna visit the site and i might order them if you still want to go with me… 👀

forgirlDoll: aghh i need to think about it T-T but i’ll tell you tomorrow!! i’m gonna do my homework and we can talk later. bye juyang :( <3

kisses4ireun: okay 😊 talk to you later and don’t let that crush on mean boy come back before i even see you 😢

(you hearted this message ❤️) ──────────────────────────

you let your eyes linger on your exchanged messages for just a minute longer, your teeth nibbling at your bottom lip. you could feel the heat that was blooming up your cheeks and neck, your heart still erratic against the comfort of your ribcage. the amount of serotonin that was flooding through your body over a simple three minute text convo was almost laughable, but right now, you didn’t care. you were absolutely smitten for this boy, you can finally admit to yourself. there really was no hiding it. why did he make you feel this way so much? why is one simple greeting enough to give you a power surge of adrenaline that could leave you running a marathon for a week? you didn’t know exactly why, but one reason, you hated to admit to yourself, was sticking out to you in the back corners of your brain.

maybe, just maybe, it was because he reminded you of the old yang jungwon. he reminded you of how he used to treat you before he switched like a light. he reminded you of why you fell in love with jungwon all over again, feeling deja vu from every heart flutter, every heat flash, every painful cheek smile. the more you reminisced on how lovely yang jungwon had once been to you, the sadder you became. why did he turn so hateful? and maybe the reason you did keep in touch with juyang, was because you missed that yang jungwon so much. as much as you hate to admit, you knew it was true. as you scroll up through your conversation, you read over one particular message over and over in your brain. maybe he has a crush on you. sometimes that’s how they show it.

there really was no other reason as to why he started teasing you out of the blue. did jungwon have a crush on you? you could barely believe it the more you thought about it, and the subtle shake of your head and the furrow of your brows only led you to conclude that that just couldn’t be the case. it was utterly impossible. how could he ever be into someone who listen to girlDoll? someone who has karaoke battles to children’s songs at lunch? someone who trades pokémon cards with the ninth graders on the bus? no, it could never happen, not in any reality, not in any dimension, not on any earth. that was the sad part, yang jungwon will never ever have a crush on you. that fact affected you more than it even should.

and as you open up your math notebook and grab your pencil, the guilt from your conjuring thought slowly creeps up your spine. well if reality jungwon will never like me, then i might as well take a chance with internet jungwon. besides, the more i imagine jungwon on the other side, the more butterflies i have. sure, it’s hurtful to juyang who really does care about me, but up until we meet up, he is jungwon. and i’m more happy with that then i should be.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

well, fuck. you wish yeoul, who was standing all the way on the other side of the bus stop chatting it up with some girl she found out also listens to girldoll, would come and save you from the malevolent clutches of jungwon who stands just a few inches away from you. god, you wish you knew who had tapped on your shoulder before you turned around.

“hi, y/n.” he greets you softly as he stuffs his hands into the top pockets of his brown cargo jeans. you watch his wide dimpled grin spread across his round cheeks, his thick eyebrows perching amusingly up behind locks of his black fringe. “are you mad at me?”

you immediately wilt the curves of your lips into a frown, your eyebrows threading frustratingly above your eyes. “for what? do you not have any friends to talk to?”

“pointing out your girldoll addiction.” he says softly, leaning his weight on his left leg. you watch as his tongue slips out between his pink lips briefly, his eyes flickering around the features of your stoic face. “your friend told me you were angry with me. you look…. super mega pissed off.”

you inhale sharply through your nose, stuffing your fists into the pockets of your hoodie. it’s too early in the morning for this. “it doesn’t even matter if i am or not, jungwon.”

“they must mean like, a lot to you. seeing how upset you are that i found out.” you watch his stupid defined chin as he ticks it up at you, running a slow hand through his hair before peering down at you through his half lidded eyes. “almost like you didn’t want me to know. like you care about what i think.”

“i’m going to throw the heaviest book i have in my backpack right at your stupid face.”

you watch as he clicks his tongue with a mock realization, the slowing curve of his lip pushing a dimple into his cheek. “i think i know what it is..” he rasps low in his throat, slipping his hand out of his pocket to point his finger lazily in your direction. you’d be lying if you said your heart rate didn’t sky rocket. “you think we’re friends.”

your cheeks heat up with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. you tsk your tongue slightly against the roof of your mouth, raising your eyebrows curiously at his smug expression. “absolutely not.”

“then why do you look so nervous? huh? did i hit the target spot on?” he scrunches his nose at you and you watch his adam’s apple dip into his throat with a hushed, deep chuckle. you sigh dramatically as you reach into your hoodie pocket to pull out your earbuds, clicking the end of them into your phone. “no. wait, unless…” he leans over to rest his hands on top of his knees in thought, the furrow of his dark brows tightening as he tongues the inside of his cheek. “… you have a crush on me.” he whispers as he peers up at you through his thick eyelashes, another obnoxious smirk curving up the side of his lip.

“i’m not talking to you anymore.” you grumble at him before throwing his cocky face a sharp glance, pushing your earbuds into the soft holes of your ears. you can hear the soft voice of jungwon’s words as he straightens his spine back up.

“that’s so flattering, y/n.” you hear him say to you, as he threads his arms over his chest. “but i think i’m gonna have to pass on that one. i don’t really get along with girls who listen to girlDoll.” at this point, you turn up your volume to the maximum amount, trying not to show the fact that girldoll’s lovely heart was bursting out your eardrums. “gonna remember this talk, y/n.” you hear him whisper up to your ear before silence soon follows after, you letting a long exhale roll past your lips.

soon, the bus had approached at your sidewalk, and you file on after the rest of your bustling classmates. it wasn’t until you heard someone calling your name that you turn around halfway up the bus steps. you peel an earbud out of your ear, throwing your head back at yeoul behind you. “um…. your backpack is unzipped.” she tells you with an amused tilt to her lips, turning her head to point at the spot on the sidewalk you and jungwon were just at. you follow her finger over to where you see all of your notebooks and pencils clattered to the ground. you tried not to show the utter rage that crawled up the length of your spine as you shamefully head back down the steps. that little prick.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

kokoluvr: did you SEE koko’s BRIGHT GREEN HAIR IN THE TEASER!!’nnn???’nv GOD HELP MEEEEEE 🧎‍♀️ ──────────────────────────

your thumbs tap rapidly against the screen of your phone as you dart your eyes up at the empty hallway in front of you, making sure not to bump into anyone on your way to computer class just right around the corner.

────────────────────────── forgirlDoll: STOPPP HELP I DID SHE LOOKS SO GOOD SHES LIKE THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN PULL OFF GREEN HAIRR!??? IM SO DEAD SERIOUS WHY DOES SHE WANT TO KILL ME

kokoluvr: i’m on the floor . on my knees . i beg miss koko of girldoll please give me just . one☝️minuscule chance. 🙏 🧎‍♀️ ──────────────────────────

the bottoms of your sneakers squeak against the slick tile of the floor as you sharply make the turn around the corner, eyes glancing up in a panic as you see your computer teacher up ahead standing in the doorway of your designated class. is he staring me down? you look down to type as much as you can before you’re forced to place your phone in the dreaded phone bin, the one mr. chang was holding so tauntingly between his hands.

that brooding man is coming closer in your line of sight, his dagger like stare piercing through your dirty soul. you try slowing your pace down the hall but it’s no use when he’s already eyeing you, that scowl of a frown against his thin, miserable lips. so with a saddened sigh, you decide to just delete your upcoming message in the chat box and click your phone off, a pout jutting at your lips. once you’ve finally made it to mr. chang’s intimidating figure, you depressingly go to place your phone into the plastic bin with the other student’s. he watches your hand with furrowed eyebrows as you slip it from the box. “thank you.” he croaks, as you throw your phone one last sad look as it sits helplessly in the black hole of mistreated devices.

just as you’ve stepped a foot inside, you swear you see your phone light up with a notification. panic suddenly spreads through your stomach as you make out the tiny little words of the gray banner. does that say kisses4ireun? shit. you widen your eyes as mr. chang emerges into the classroom, the knob of of the door firm in his left hand as he drags the door shut behind him. you watch him adjust the phone bin held to his hip as you part your desperate lips to speak. “wait, mr. chang—”

“nope. go have a seat.” he tells you blankly, walking past you briskly towards his wooden desk in the corner. you slouch your shoulders as you make your way to your assigned computer desk, pulling the plastic chair out dramatically and slowly to plop yourself right into it.

you don’t even look over the top of your computer at mr. chang, who had approached the middle of the spacious classroom to begin talking about the lesson. sure, you are pouting, but he’s left you no choice. the suspense of juyang’s notification is driving you absolutely insane, especially when you know you’re gonna have to wait an hour and thirty minutes to see it. you’re not that patient.

so, once he’s explained the long, painful, webquest you must delve right into, your mind thinks of an amazingly malicious plan. with mr. chang leaned over to converse with one of the students in the far upper corner of the classroom, you decide to open up a new tab. sure, this was risky, especially when your search history had the upmost ability to be viewed by all school faculty. but you didn’t really care, i mean, how often do they check that stuff anyway?

your careful, stealthy fingertips then begin pressing into the thick, black keys of the keyboard, looking up the website your blog is on. you make sure to flick your gaze up at the teacher every so often to make sure he doesn’t approach you and your secretive blog viewing as you log right into your girldoll account. you take a quick glance at the students sitting on either side of you, sighing in relief when you noticed they’re submerged in the contents of their soul sucking webquest. what losers, amirite?

once you’ve successfully logged in, you immediately drag your cursor over to notifications. you slip your bottom lip nervously between your teeth as you glance over at the teacher, who seems to have drifted dangerously closer to you, observing the screen of a nearby student. you swallow thickly in your throat, your heart throbbing in your ears as you skim through your notifications for that one, beloved user. right then, you spot it. kisses4ireun just followed girldollgifs. view their profile now!

your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach in utter disappointment. your pores just secreted a gallon of stress sweat for a notification that wasn’t even a notification? you let a disappointed exhale breathe from your nostrils, edging your cursor up to the red X at the end of the tab. right as you’ve hovered that tiny white arrow over the X, you feel a hard tap on your shoulder. fuck. “ahem.”

as if you didn’t just get caught, you quickly switch your tab back to the school’s website. “y/n,” you hear mr. chang’s deep voice above you. you let your eyelids flutter closed as you mentally curse out yourself. “please meet me outside.”

so there you sit, the bottom of your denim jeans collecting floor dust as you scoot your bum up against the brick wall outside of your classroom. you’re staring at the math packet between your fingers, a loud groan slipping from between your gritted teeth. you scoot your knees up to your chest and let the back of your head lean against the wall. “i’m so stupid,” you mumble to yourself, tossing your math packet onto the floor beside you. you place your palms over your warming face. “girldollgifs? really? you can’t just look that shit up on google?”

the loud shrill of the bell then echoes out against the walls of the hallway, signaling a transition to the next class. you let yourself sit there for a few more lingering seconds, regretting every decision you ever made in your life. you watch as students begin to crowd the length of the corridor, and soon, you finally decide to straighten up to your feet. you grab your backpack from against the door and sling it’s strap over your shoulder, a shaky sigh exhaling from the chamber of your lungs. what an embarrassing moment of weakness. will never let a boy get to me like that again……. not in the middle of class anyway. him and his stupid follow notifs can wait.

“oh…” you hear a familiar voice behind you, causing you to whip right around towards the sound. your expression sours once you’re met with yang jungwon heading in your direction, a couple of his rugged friends following his tail. “someone got in trouble…” he sing-songs with raised brows, his friends chuckling shortly behind him. you narrow your eyes at him as you watch him enter your previous computer class, resisting the urge to throw your palm out to whack him right in the face. god, you should’ve done it.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

“so… did the people beside you not see you?” you hear yeoul ask firmly into your ear, her voice crackly on the other side of the phone. you let a groan escape your parted lips, letting your back fall with a thud against your mattress.

“they probably did once mr. chang came over there.” you grumble behind the palm you’ve lifted over your face. you tap your index finger against the cell phone held up to your ear. “it was so embarrassing. everyone probably saw my girldoll blog i forgot to exit out of.” you hear a snort from yeoul on the other side of the line, lifting your hand away for your face to watch yourself pick at your cuticle. “but, anyway….”

“it’s okay, y/n. everyone including mr. chang will probably forget by tomorrow.” you let a loud sigh roll from out of your lips as you lift yourself back up into your previous slouched position.

“yeah,” you mumble, your eyes trained on your laptop screen situated in the comfort your lap. your gaze lingers on the home page of your blog a minute longer before you slowly furrow your eyebrows, eyes darting down to the inbox icon. two new messages?

“wait, yeoul,” you begin, your teeth going to anxiously bite at the soft skin of your lower lip. you drag your cursor over towards the mail icon before clicking it. “i’m gonna put you on speaker phone.”

“okay,” the girl replies as you lift the phone away from your ear, setting it to balance on top of your thigh. “i’ll put you on speaker phone, too. gotta stream my girls’ new music video for the nth time.” you simply block out yeoul’s last comment as you now rear your focus in on your computer, your eyes drifting across the screen to read your new messages. your heart rate skyrockets seeing they’re sent from kisses4ireun.

────────────────────────── ⍈ 4:03pm • kisses4ireun: remember i said you’d be the prettiest girl at the concert?

kisses4ireun: i was right 😌──────────────────────────

your eyebrows furrow slowly with heavy confusion. “damn….” you hear yeoul’s faint voice emit from the phone on your thigh. you can barely make out the rhythmic pop beat in the background. “moonyi is really serving with those vocals.”

“hm…” you hum, trying to wrap your brain around juyang’s comment. what does he mean by this? after a few minutes of idly staring at his messages, you decide to type up a hesitant reply.

────────────────────────── forgirlDoll: juyang 😭 that’s really sweet but you haven’t even seen what i look like yet T-T

kisses4ireun: haha you’re right 😅😅 i can just sense it bc your personality is so pretty :-)

forgirlDoll: stopp 😭 you’re too much

──────────────────────────

ah, okay, you think. that makes sense. “duuuude,” yeoul drags out, snapping you out of your juyang lovestruck state. “i didn’t even notice it before, but i think that’s bts jungkook as one of the dancing icecream guys.”

“yeoul, what?” you chuckle softly through a soft curve of your lips, feeling heat in the apples of your cheeks. “what are you on about?”

“i’m serious. go to minute 2:14. tell me that’s not jungkook behind ireun.”

“no,” you mumble teasingly, watching as another message from juyang pops up on your screen. “i believe you. i trust you and your… semi-bad eyesight.”

“my eye sight is not even bad y/n, i wear contacts 85% of the time. so.”

────────────────────────── kisses4ireun: hey tickets went on sale today. if you still want to go with me tell me rn before i buy them and make you go anyway >:) ──────────────────────────

crap. how am i gonna tell yeoul? “okay… i just went back to rewatch and it might not be jungkook. looking more like exo’s kyungsoo.”

“yeoul,” you chuckle again, nervously looking down at your lap as you pick at your cuticles in hesitant thought. “they don’t even look alike.”

“hey. with the makeup they’ve put on him in this video, i’d beg to differ. don’t argue with me, i wear contacts.”

“yeoul,” you begin hesitantly, threading your eyebrows together softly. “how mad would you be if i went to the concert with juyang instead of you?” you squeeze your eyelids shut to brace for impact, readying yourself mentally for her screaming mantra. a few seconds of silence crackle from the receiver, your heart pounding loudly against your chest.

“hmm…” you hear your friend hum. “you know what… that’s okay. i met this girl at the bus stop who likes girldoll too, i’ll just ask her to go with me. but if juyang is an old creepy man who kidnaps you, i’m going to laugh and act like i didn’t see it.”

you let a relieving exhale deflate from your lungs. “okay, okay. i can understand that.” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as a minuscule amount of serotonin flows through your body, imagining finally seeing juyang face to face. “i honestly thought you’d be mad.”

“well, i was going to be, but it’s okay. i kind of want him to be a catfish so you get a taste of your own medicine.”

you snort. “okay, that’s totally fair.”

────────────────────────── forgirlDoll: i’ll go to the concert with you juyang 😆😆

kisses4ireun: wait really??

forgirlDoll: yesss :>

kisses4ireun: that makes me so happy ^_^ can’t wait to see your pretty face

──────────────────────────

as soon as you read over juyang’s latest message, the guilt slowly creeps up on you. there’s heat budding up in your cheeks and your neck, your heart feeling as if it’s detached from all of its vessels and floating on its own inside your ribcage. yeoul starts talking to you about the unfair line distribution of koko in the music video, but all you can focus on is just how inconsiderate you’ve been towards juyang. you’ve been so focused on imagining him as a dead part of yang jungwon, when in reality, he’s a real actual person. he is far from yang jungwon.

what if when he’s finally revealed to me at the concert, i lose all feelings? what if it’s because i wanted him to be jungwon all along? if he’s anyone else other than him, will i even be satisfied? the answer to the last question on your mind makes an anxious feeling bloom in the pit of your stomach. maybe i’ll just wait and see what i feel.

“… y/n? are you there?” yeoul’s soft voice snaps you out of your daze, blinking to yourself as you fold your knees up against your chest.

“uh, yeah, sorry.” you softly chuckle, messing with the fabric of your striped pajamas. “what did you say again?”

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

you’d rather jump off the nearest cliff then continue sitting through this soul-sucking lunch period. ever since homeroom at 7am sharp this morning, you’ve been suffering verbal harassment from your ever loving peers. “hey, y/n,” this one boy had come up to your desk after roll call, a boy you’ve never talked to before in your life. “who’s your girldoll bias?” you threw him a devilish glare, watching as he’d share a couple snickers with his obnoxious friends. and then, on your way to the cafeteria, another girl you’ll probably never see again, stops you in the hallway with a hand to your shoulder.

“hey!” she exclaimed, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “aren’t you’re the nerd who likes that weird pop group who sings about making love to icecream?” you only blinked at her in reply, your lips pursing into a line as you felt heat flame up in your cheeks. she only threw you a quick giggle before walking off, leaving you stomping gloomily through the double doors of the lunch room. that little blabbermouth, you thought, steam basically shooting from your ears as you headed down the lunch line. he’ll be the reason for my villain arc.

now, you sit beside yeoul at your usual lunch table, your head in your hands as she tells off this tall boy from the soccer team. “….maybe if you actually translated the lyrics!” she spits, standing up from her stool to place her hands on her hips. you mentally groan, feeling heat from your face against the skin of your palms. when is this over? “you’d actually see it’s more than just dancing icecream and glittery bodysuits!” you hear the soccer boy standing behind you let out a snort, before muttering a quiet okay..? the squeak of his tennis shoes against the tile floor telling you he’s walked away from yeoul’s extravagant scene.

“god,” you hear yeoul sigh as she sits back down in her seat, adjusting the bottom of her tight top. you slowly lift your head up shamefully, noticing all the pointed eyes and hushed whispers from people scattered across the cafeteria. “i can’t handle all these uneducated morons.”

“it’s okay, yeoul.” a girl named aesha whispers from across you at your table, her face looking rather red and uncomfortable. “just ignore them. we already have enough attention on us.” soon, your little table group had eased their way back into their casual conversation, no more girlDoll confrontation brought up upon you. it was nice, for a few minutes, as you wedge your sushi roll between your chopsticks peacefully.

it wasn’t until yeoul’s loud hiss towards a certain boy approaching your table made you realize all your settled peace had quickly dissipated. “don’t you even dare step any closer, yang jungwon.” her voice is loud in your ear and you wince, not even daring to look up yourself. what the hell does he want? “you’ve started enough shit already.”

“i’m not here to make fun of you,” you hear jungwon exclaim softly, a small sigh following his small words. “i just wanted to give this to y/n.” your eyebrows furrow slightly as you watch a red lollipop topple right onto the table beside your sushi tray. you decide to look up at jungwon confusingly, taken aback by the redness of his round cheeks. at your curious gaze, you watch the tips of his ears hiding behind curls of his black hair turn red, his doe eyes widening at your expression. “i just felt bad. about the other day.” he tells you, adjusting his grip against his single backpack strap. “you don’t have to take it,” he shrugs, “if you don’t want it i’ll gladly have it back.”

“she doesn’t want anything from you.” yeoul begins beside you, a disgruntled frown upon her glossy lips. you go to place your hand on her arm, watching as she snaps her head over to you.

“no it’s okay,” you tell your friend, a nervous curve to the edge of your lips. you flick your gaze back up to jungwon’s nervous expression, watching as he nibbles on the skin of his bottom lip. “thanks.” you mumble, and he flashes you an awkward smile.

“don’t thank me. also, this doesn’t mean i like you. i know you like me, but this is just me being nice. girldoll sucks.” he raises his eyebrows at you amusingly, and you roll your eyes in reply.

yeoul scoffs. “she doesn’t like you. now, beat it.”

just as he begins walking back to his own table across the lunch room, he throws his head back at you, a shy curve to his lips and a dimple etched in his cheek. and just as he turns his head back around, did he just….. wink at you? and just why did your heart flutter at it? your heart jumps inside your chest and you blink dumbfounded, your eyes going to train on the red lollipop laying nicely against the table. he… winked at me? and not just a smug, obnoxious wink, a genuine, nice wink? what dimension did i just wake up into?

“i wouldn’t eat it if i were you.” yeoul tells you blankly, threading her arms over her chest as she watches you unwrap the plastic from around the candy. “he probably like, licked the wrapper.” you ignore yeoul’s sulky declaration, laying the crumbled plastic onto the table before sticking the red candy between your lips.

“that’s okay.” you mumble, swishing the lollipop between your teeth to settle against your cheek. “its the first time he’s been nice to me in years. i’ll take what i can get.”

“you’re odd, y/n.”

you simply shrug at yeoul’s words, happily sucking on the cherry flavored orb against your tongue.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

your red lollipop was still sitting happily in the nook of your cheek as you sat daydreaming in your computer class, your cheek in your palm as you replayed jungwon’s pretty wink over and over in your head. mr. chang was going on about something related to astrology, your eyes locked on his broad figure but your mind remained up in the clouds.

and as if you simply manifested his entrance into your reality, you watch as that cursed black haired boy swings open the door to your classroom. mr. chang throws his head back at his disturbance with confusion laced in his firm expression. “jungwon…. can i help you? you’re interrupting my lesson.” you watch mr. chang cross his arms over his chest before flicking your heart-eyed gaze over to jungwon’s frozen stance at the doorway.

“uh,” you watch jungwon chuckle nervously, his hand going to slide into the pocket of his low waisted denim jeans. “i have to make up a test in here, unfortunately. sorry for interrupting.” he flashes the teacher an anxious lopsided smile, strands of his black hair fluttering against his thick eyelashes. you can’t help but roam your gaze down his lanky, slouched figure, admiring his black charmed necklace and the silver studs pierced lowly into his earlobes. you admired the rosace ness of his cheeks and the way he slides his palm nervously over the back of his neck as he awaits mr. chang’s reply.

“alright. make sure to put your phone in the bin.” mr. chang huffs, lifting his hand to direct jungwon to the computer desk on the far right of him at the front of the classroom. “mrs. yori has no respect for other teachers, i guess.” you hear your teacher mumble with a shake of his head, before slapping his hands together firmly. “okay, class. anyway.. as i was saying…”

you can’t help but keep your eyes trained on jungwon as you watch him place his phone into the bin on top of mr. chang’s desk, before your eyes follow him on his way to his seat. you’re being pathetic, you think to yourself, as you catch yourself smiling at the endearing holes jungwon had tore into his black sweater sleeves to slide his thumbs through. what is wrong with you? you blink shamefully as you tear your eyes away from the boy, straightening your spine in your chair. “okay, y/n.” you whisper to yourself, slapping your own cheek softly. “don’t let this boy get to you just because he did one nice thing for you. and it wasn’t even that nice…”

in the corner of your eye you catch the boy sitting beside you eyeing you weirdly, which makes heat flame up into your cheeks. “what?” you mumble, before you slide cowardly down the back of your chair. dude. you’re crazy. get it together.

once the bell finally rings, after your hopeless, distracted mind absorbed absolutely nothing from mr. chang’s lengthy lesson, you make sure to be the first one to jump out of your seat. you just had to beat yang jungwon out of here before any sort of interaction sends your brain to goo.

you make your way passed your hurrying classmates as you clutch your backpack straps, eyeing the phone bin that mr. chang was holding by the doorway. once that plastic bin is finally displayed in front of you, you blink down at the collection of black phones. your eyes frantically scan around its contents in recognition of your own device, but you just can’t seem to spot it. you’re blocking the doorway, frustrated grunts and groans emitting from students just trying to get passed you. “can you move?”

in a panic, you grab what you’re 99% sure is your phone, by the tiny crack in the back of its clear case. you push your way out of the classroom, a heavy sigh exhaling from between your lips. okay, you think to yourself. now down the stairs to second period.

heavy breaths tumble from between your lips as you quickly run down the stone steps of your corridor, brushing passed stubborn shoulders and squeaking over frantic feet. it wasn’t until you heard your name being called across the hallway that you immediately squeak to a halt. there’s students bumping into you as you throw your head back down the length of the hall, spotting a boy making eye contact with you as he holds a phone in the air. with confusion bubbling up inside your system, you make your way back down the corridor and towards him.

“hanjee?” you mumble questioningly as you soon approach him, watching as he outstretches his arm out towards you, offering you the black phone in his hand.

“i accidentally grabbed your phone by accident.” he tells you with a short chuckle bubbling passed his plush lips. “sorry, they all look the same.” your heart rate escalates as you hesitantly go to grab your phone, noticing it also has a crack in its clear case.

“oh,” you mumble with furrowed brows, turning the device in your hand to click the lock screen on. yeah, most definitely your phone. you then begin to dig into your pocket to fetch the phone you thought was yours. “this means i have yours, right?”

“oh, no,” the tall boy tells you with a shake of his head, his thick eyebrows threading together above his eyes. you pause your hands’ movements in your pocket as you study him. “my buddy has mine. see you tomorrow, y/n?” he tells you with a quick smile, punching your shoulder and turning on his heel before you can even get a word out.

crap. you groan in your throat. this means i have someone else’s phone. you continue your slow pace back down the direction you were initially headed, ignoring the emptying hallway. you pull out the phone that’s not yours, turning it over to view the screen. immediately, the lock screen flashes at you, heat quickly bubbling to your cheeks at the image. great, you mumble to yourself, observing the picture of jungwon and who you assume is his friend, sunoo. of course i have jungwon’s phone. you let an unsatisfied frown perch at your lips as you continue down the hallway, a notification that pops up on jungwon’s phone grabbing your attention.

you stop your tracks in the middle of the hallway as you dreadfully read the notif.

────────────────────────── 32s httpmoonyi:

YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE JUYANG HE DOESNT EVEN LOOK LIKE JUNGKOOK. THAT IS MOST DEF CHA EUNWOO BEHIND IREUN?? ARE YOU BLIND?? 🙄──────────────────────────

wait a minute…. what did it say?

maybe you need to read that again. juyang??

you’re not making any sense…. juyang???

you blink, feeling the color drain from your appalled face. you don’t think you read that right, your eyes scanning the message over and over and over. this can’t be jungwon’s phone, maybe it’s… sunoo’s. yeah, maybe it’s his. you could most definitely believe that instead. it wasn’t until another message popped onto the screen that you wanted to most definitely be ran over by 45,000 buses.

────────────────────────── 14s heeseung (soccer):

hey jungwon just reminding you to bring my cleats to practice tonight!!!! i cant wear niki’s again they’re too small for me don’t make me go through that. half my foot is still bruised

──────────────────────────

no. no…. no. it can’t be. maybe you’re dreaming. you squeeze your eyes shut in the middle of the empty hallway and go to pinch your arm harshly, wincing at the very real pain. okay, okay, maybe it’s real. you don’t know whether to be relieved, or absolutely enraged. because how does he have the right to even make fun of you at all? for something he’s obviously into as well? you simply want to chuck his phone at the wall and watch it break into a million minuscule pieces.

you can feel tears blur at your waterline, as you sulkily make your way towards your classroom. you know you’re late but you simply don’t care, the internet love of your life you’ve known for a year now, the sweetest boy on the planet, is your human embodiment of a parasite, yang jungwon. how did this even come to be? you have so many questions and angry words pounding at your temples, but you sniff your tears back and continue walking, your fingers buzzing with rage. oh, just wait, yang jungwon. you clench your jaw to stop the sudden tremble of your lip. just you wait….

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

kisses4ireun: hey sorry i took so long to respond

kisses4ireun: i’m on my laptop because i lost my phone T_T

──────────────────────────

you stare at your bright laptop screen with tears blurring your vision, stuffing your face back into the pillow you’re holding tightly to your chest. “y/n….” yeoul cooes on the phone beside you on your mattress, forced to listen to your choked sobs. “it’s gonna be okay.”

“no, it’s not.” you sob through mascara mixed tears, lifting your head up to swipe at your mascara coated pillow. “it’s not okay. how does he have the audacity to make me look like a fool in front of our whole grade? he’s told everyone, yeoul.” you sniff harshly to suck back the snot slowly dripping out of your nose. “he’s such a fucking jerk.”

“all you have to do is do the same thing back. tell his whole soccer team. i mean, you do have his phone. it’s not hard to expose him.”

“no, i cant do that,” you whisper, tongue sliding against your bottom lip to collect your conjured spit. you swipe at your stained pillow some more, your puffy eyes going back to gaze at juyang— jungwon’s open messages. “i’m not that kind of person.”

“are you just saying that because he gave you a lollipop?”

“no,” you whine, your eyebrows furrowing above your reddened eyes. “i just… a part of me still cares about him. and i’ve always wanted him to be nice to me again.”

“so… why aren’t you jumping for joy that he’s juyang? he’s been nice to you this whole time. flirting with you, even. obviously, he’s interested.”

“that doesn’t matter, yeoul!” you exclaim with raised eyebrows, your hand going to smack the fabric of your pillow. “he doesn’t know he’s texting with me..” you whisper through a quivering lip, your palms going up to cover your face as you groan into your hands. “he’s just a… a coward. a jerk. an effing dickhead.”

“yeah! yeah, you tell em’!”

“… that i maybe perhaps am still attracted to.”

yeoul let’s out a groan at this, causing you to nervously chuckle behind the comfort of your hands.

“aaand we’re back at square one.”

you then let out a longing sigh, peeking through the cracks of your fingers to stare at your laptop screen once again, buzzing thoughts clouding your scattered mind. “the concert… what about the concert….”

“well…” yeoul sighs, the phone crackling at the close proximity of her loud sigh. “you gotta cancel on him now. give that boy a taste of his own medicine. make him look dumb. show up to school tomorrow, shove his phone in his face, and expose that mofo. in front of everyone. and then…. me and you go to the concert together. the end.”

you begin to chew on your bottom lip in thought, feeling the cold sensation of your running snot approach your upper lip. “i don’t know…” you whisper, your eyes fixating into a daze onto your computer screen. you go to wipe your snot with the back of your hand, hearing yeoul scoff on the line.

“y/n…. you have to give him his phone back eventually. you need to expose him. i know you care about him, but… if he cared about you he’d treat you with respect. so it shouldn’t really matter whether or not you still have feelings for him, he still deserves a harsh, reputation-ruining confrontation. am i wrong….?”

──────────────────────────

kisses4ireun: helloooo….? :(

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

“okay, class.” mrs. yori sighs, holding a clipboard up against her chest. she stands in front of the vast soccer field, where agile teenage boys finish up their practice for their upcoming game. you hug your beige sweater closer to your chest, the dainty fingers of the chilly, october breeze prickling at the skin of your arms. “today’s assignment obviously will include observations of nature.”

your squinted eyes drift from mrs. yori’s petite figure and over to the soccer field behind her, peering at the running players through the strands of dark hair that the breeze pushes in front of your eyes. your eyes can’t help but fall upon player 16, aka, jungwon, a sour feeling spreading inside your belly as you remember yesterday’s mentally catastrophic events.

“you’ll be split up into pairs,” mrs. yori declares, peering down at the paper clipped to her clipboard. “and each one of you will identify three examples of blah, blah, blah….” her monotone instructions get lost somewhere in its route to your cochlea, your gaze and focus aligned on the running figure of the dark haired boy a good distance from you. you watch as he sprints towards the soccer ball rolling to him, before throwing it a harsh kick, sending it flying through the air and over towards the goal.

woah, you think, your eyebrows subconsciously lifting into your forehead. of course he’s good at soccer. “y/n?” yeoul suddenly nudges you in the shoulder, a confused look taking upon her concentrated features. you blink yourself out of your shameful staring, noticing your classmates had dispersed among the clearing around you.

“sorry.” you reply softly, furrowing your eyebrows in self frustration. “let’s get to the assignment.” yeoul let’s a small sigh roll between her glossed lips, a bejeweled hand going to run through her hair as she fixates her gaze down on the paper in her grip.

“okay.” she begins, your eyes on the clench of her jaw as she chews on her grape flavored bubblegum. “so… i say we try over at the bleachers first.” she tells you softly, before turning on her heel against the gravel. you have absolutely no idea what the assignment is, but then again, do you ever? you decide to just keep your lips sealed as you follow aimlessly behind her, thinking maybe she’ll end up doing the assignment herself. it’ll give you more time to ogle at jungwon, anyway. aren’t you supposed to be mad at him?

you’ve now approached the high stature of the metal soccer field bleachers, the bottoms of your tennis shoes crunching the gravel below you. you watch as yeoul crouches down on her hands and knees, peering under the bleachers. you’re super confused, your eyelashes batting against your cheekbones as you thoroughly observe her actions. the more you look at her, the more confused you are, watching as she brushes her palms against the graveled dirt. you blink. what is she doing? “i think…. we’ve got a good spot here…”

your attention is then tugged away from yeoul’s odd searching once you hear the blow of a loud whistle, veering your head towards the soccer field to watch the players disperse, heading over to their water bottles and towels on the outskirts of the field. your heart begins racing once your gaze lands on a very red, and very sweaty yang jungwon, his hands perched on his hips and his chest heaving rapidly. you watch him start walking towards you, and you panic. you dart your eyes down towards the seats of the bleachers and notice the water bottle and towel sitting upon the bottom row. shit.

he’s walking closer to you now, and you’re not sure if he’s noticed you. should you hide behind the bleachers? no, he might see you, and that’d be weird. “oh, y/n.” you hear yeoul sigh, noticing she’s crawled further under the bleachers. “just go ahead and talk to him. i won’t be mad.” you glance over at your friend who throws her head back to give you a look, your heart rate erratic inside your chest.

you slip your lip between your teeth, looking back over at jungwon who is now, rather standing closely by you. your heart jumps at the sudden proximity, his gaze lingering on your frozen figure with an amused curve digging up his red, sweaty cheek. “hi, y/n.” he breathes, reaching down to grab his water bottle sitting on the edge of the bleacher. you swallow dryly in your throat, feeling that dreaded heat bloom to your cheeks. you simply part your dry lips as you awkwardly watch him tilt his head back, lifting his water bottle to his lips before letting its contents slip down his throat.

“um,” you nervously stutter, trying not to ogle at the damp, black hair that he shakes out of his eyes. he’s now raising his eyebrows at you in curiosity, swishing water between his cheeks as he twists the plastic cap back onto his bottle. “jungwon… i need to talk to you.”

you watch his eyebrows tighten together, swallowing the last contents of the water between his cheeks before leaning over to place his bottle back onto the bleacher. “you need to talk to me?” he asks in a hesitant tone, tugging the middle of his damp green soccer shirt to stop it sticking to his chest. “about what exactly?”

you feel like you’re going to faint. “well.” you mutter shakily, slowly reaching down into the pocket of your denim jeans. “i have… your phone.” you slip his phone out of your pocket and slowly extend your hand out to him, watching as a now nervous expression distorts at his features, his eyes narrowing at your unnerved face.

“why do you have my phone?” he asks lowly, slowly going to fetch it from your clammy hands. “are you stalking me?”

“no,” you reply firmly, sticking your fists nervously into your pockets. “i.. accidentally grabbed it when computer class ended. also.. i… there’s — there’s something else i need to say.”

“go ahead, y/n.” he softly chuckles, burying his phone into the pocket of his black athletic shorts. “i’m all ears. loosen up, don’t be so nervous.” his eyebrows raise again under his damp locks, his lips curved into a lopsided smile. his words only make your neck flame even more, and you don’t think you can maintain eye contact as you mutter your next words.

“jungwon..” you inhale a shaky breath, throwing your head back at your surroundings to confirm your teacher is nowhere in sight.

“mhmm..?”

“i know about your girlDoll account.” you let a heavy exhale droop at your shoulders, your eyelids going to clamp shut. “i know that you’re user kisses4ireun.”

for a good few, solid seconds, all you can hear is yeoul’s distant, malicious giggle, and the chirping birds perched high above you. your eyes remain shut, your fists balled into your pockets. the air is tense, thick enough to be sliced with a knife. you pop one eye open at jungwon’s lingering silence, his face now a pale, rosy color as he stares at you intensely, his jaw clenching periodically. “how?” he barely mumbles above a whisper, both of his fists going to frustratedly slide into the pockets of his shorts.

you swallow the lump in your throat. “well, i saw a notification pop up on your phone from a girlDoll blog user calling you juyang.” your chest swells with your next, hesitant declaration. “also, i’m the forgirlDoll account you’ve been talking to.” oh no. you’re bracing yourself for impact, your heart feeling like it could shoot right out of your chest at the speed it’s beating. the air is silent again, making you want to disappear into thin air.

you hear a long, loud inhale rise at jungwon’s chest, before the sound of his shoes crunching along gravel tingle at your ears. is he coming closer? “y/n.” he whispers, his voice now inches in front of you. you pop one eye open and see he’s leaned his side into the side of the bleachers, his chin tilted up at you and his eyebrows furrowed, a slight curve edging up his lip. “i already know who you are.”

your eyes pop open, staring at him in utter disbelief. what did he just say? “what… you knew?”

“he knew?” you ignore yeoul’s sudden chirp somewhere behind you.

“y/n,” he groans amusingly, his palm going to rest on his forehead before sliding it down his flushed face. “you literally left your blog up on the computer in tech class. did you forget it was under your school account, too?”

heat takes over your entire body. “you… were on my computer?” god, you want to shrivel yourself up into a ball and get swallowed by the void. of course. of course.

“unfortunately, i was.” he croaks lowly, watching as you smack both of your palms to your face. “also, why… why would you search up your blog on the school computer? are you that stupid?” you groan behind the heat radiating from your palms, hearing yeoul snort behind you.

“yes. yes she is.”

“i just.” you whine frustratingly, throwing your hands off of your heated, embarrassed face. “i was— i had just gotten a notification from you when i walked in, and i couldn’t check my phone and i was— i was just eager. okay?”

you hear a small giggle breathe from jungwon’s nose, glancing up at his smug, amused expression as he tilts the side of his head to rest it against the bleacher, his half lidded eyes observing you. “god, you’re obsessed with just every version of me, huh?”

“don’t even.” you blurt, your heart rate sky rocketing into the clouds. “i just…” you lick your lips briefly, your eyebrows threading together. “so… you still talked to me even after you knew it was me. why?”

you watch jungwon’s eyes narrow in on you, his tongue slowly gliding along the top of his bottom lip. “hmm.” he hums, his arm reaching up to scratch slowly at the nape of his neck. “let’s play a game. it’s called let’s see how oblivious y/n can be. go.”

your face drains of all color. “what does that— what does that mean?” yeoul let’s out a firmly whispered, what?! in disbelief of jungwon’s words, feeling her fist punch softly into your back.

“it means he likes you, dumb fuck.”

“but i don’t understand,” you whine in frustration, your arms going to thread over your chest. “you’re so mean to me, like all the time. a jerk, i should say. a really really really mean terribly rude jerk. who hurts my feelings.”

“y/n.” jungwon groans again, lifting his head up from the bleachers to throw his gaze back at the soccer field, watching as his players start heading off the field. “i’ll explain everything to you. if you let me.”

“okay, let’s hear it, then.”

“not right now, though.” he chuckles nervously, throwing his hands up in the air dismissively. “i have to go back inside. just come over to my house tomorrow so i can make it up to you. and we can talk. okay?” he raises his eyebrows at you curiously as he begins backing up away from the bleachers, his cleats scraping against the gravel.

you pout, anxious adrenaline rushing through your system. “why would i ever agree to that?” you tease, furrowing your eyebrows at the amused smirk slowly curving up his lip.

“because, y/n,” he rasps lowly, slipping a hand into his pocket as he continues walking backwards. “you’ve still got a crush on mean boy, don’t you?” your face immediately flares up with heat as you purse your lips into a line, watching a dimpled grin spread along his cheeks. he then quickly turns on his heel, jogging down the remaining length of the soccer field.

you stare, at him, dumbfounded, hearts practically shooting out of your retnas. are you mad? are you absolutely smitten? you’re possibly both, your gaze still trained on jungwon’s distant figure as you feel yeoul throw a harsh arm over your shoulder. “well, y/n.” she breathes into your ear, wafts of her grape gum floating into your nostrils. “that wasn’t the confrontation i expected, nor wanted to watch, but hey, you did it.” she then harshly pats you hard on the back, making you wince. “i’m proud of you. i don’t necessarily approve of… this, but. if you’re happy, i’m happy. also, i completed the paper. if you’re curious.”

“i don’t care, yeoul.” you slur, your mind tainted with images of jungwon and his sweaty, stupid face. “eff that stupid paper.”

“exactly. eff the school system, eff this class. eff it all, i say.” your eyes are still fogged over as you gaze at the emptying soccer field, leaning your side dreamily into the bleachers. “c’mon, y/n.” you hear yeoul’s distant voice behind you. “we have a paper to turn in.”

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

you would’ve never thought, in a million years, you’d be standing on yang jungwon’s doorstep, knocking on his ugly brown door. you would’ve never thought you’d be seeing his ugly blue shutters in the flesh, this close to your naked eye. it feels weird, you must admit, as you shuffle awkwardly while standing on his doormat, awaiting an answer beyond the door after anxiously knocking.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have the absolute urge to puke, imagining chunks of your pizza leftovers splattering all over the potted plants on jungwon’s porch. honestly, his house might look better that way, you think, as you nervously pick at your cuticles.

you know you should be livid with him for the way he’s been mistreating you all these years, but your avid care for the black haired boy told you otherwise. you didn’t know what it was about him that kept you hanging on. maybe it was the way he poked thumb holes into his sleeves, or the way he widens his eyes super big and doey when he’s nervous. maybe it’s the fact he had been running a blog for a cutesy bubblegum kpop group, that kept that little ounce of hope alive. maybe, you realize, as you stand there to pick up all the pieces of yang jungwon, that the lovely boy from two years ago is still in there somewhere. you’ve managed to collect a few pieces of him, you just have to finish putting them all together.

you feel your pulse quicken once a subtle click signals the turn of the doorknob, a sharp, uneasy inhale rising at your shaky lungs. your body instantly flushes with a heat flash at just the mere sight of him, a large white t-shirt low on his collarbones accompanied by a pair of black sweats. the light pink of his cheeks show through the nonchalant persona he’s trying to convey, as he leans his side into the doorway with an arm propped up against it. “oh, look who it is.” he breathes airily through a pretty, dimpled grin, observing your figure. “hi, pretty girl.”

you internally jump off the nearest cliff. “hello.” you meekly reply, stuffing your hands nervously into the pockets of your black jacket. “can i hurry and come in, it’s cold out here.” you let a soft chuckle roll through your lips as he backs up slightly to pull the door further open.

“yeah, i’m sorry.” he says with pink cheeks, nervously going to scratch the nape of his neck. you enter quickly into the warm comfortability of his home, immediately stripping off your jacket to hang it over your arm. “alright, y/n,” he begins, his socks sliding against the hardwood floor as he heads towards the stairs. “follow me.”

“are we…. going to your room?” an immediate anxious feeling settles in the middle of your chest, watching as the boy hops up a few of his carpeted steps. you go to place your palm on top of the banister, watching as he turns around to peer down at you.

“yeah, but.. it’s because i want to show you something. and, i mean, where else are we going to talk? i promise, i have good intentions, y/n.” he chuckles, nodding his head to motion you up the stairs. “c’mon.”

you finally settle on the edge of jungwon’s bed, eyes roaming around the vicinity of his cluttered room. “uh,” he nervously chuckles, going to leave the door a crack as he walks inside. “ignore.. ignore the mess.” your eyes observe the piles of clothes and anime figurines scattered across his carpet, a small curve edging up the corner of your lips. “i was gonna.. um…” he begins softly, his nervous eyes scanning his unkept room. he stands in the middle of it, facing you, his hand going to scratch anxiously at his opposite elbow. “i was gonna make my room look pretty for you, but—”

“it’s okay.” you softly tell him, flashing the boy a small smile. “i like that it’s messy.” you watch as a small chuckle breathes through his nose as he bends down to fetch the t-shirt caught under his foot, throwing it on top of his black dresser.

“alright.” he huffs, straightening back up to approach you. he goes to sit down beside you, propping himself up on his elbows. a few seconds of tense silence settle around the two of you, before you part your hesitant lips to speak.

“so… jungwon, i just want to know one thing.” you mumble, your eyes going to dart down at your hands as you mess with the threads of your sleeve.

“yeah? i’ll tell you anything.” he mumbles, and you can smell the scent of fresh laundry wafting from his clothes.

you swallow slowly. “why… why are you so mean to me? did i ever do anything to upset you?” you barely whisper, feeling heat run to the tips of your ears. more silence follows after your question, hearing the soft breathing of jungwon beside you.

“you never did anything, y/n,” jungwon whispers. “i… i found myself getting feelings for you, which, has never happened to me, ever. and i didn’t know how to deal with it. i also thought you’d never want me, so i guess i just started… teasing you. which—” he exhales longingly, letting his back fall flat against the mattress. “which was just stupid and immature of me. i’m so sorry.”

you hum, continuing to pick the thread in your sleeve. “was this before or after you started crushing on my girlDoll blog?” you throw your head back to flash him a teasing smile, awaiting his reaction. he groans, his cheeks glowing red as he throws his arm across his face.

“look….” he begins, swallowing in his throat. “i’m just relieved it’s been you. i always just kind of imagined it was you, anyway.” he chuckles nervously. “is that embarrassing?”

“not at all,” you tell him, lifting your eyebrows high above your eyes. “actually…. i imagined juyang as you, too. it was like, the only way i could feel butterflies.” silence ticks seconds after your statement, causing anxiety to burst throughout your chest.

“you’re joking.”

“i’m not!” you chuckle, throwing your head back to peer down at him again. he had leaned up to prop himself back on his elbows, his eyebrows perched high above his widened eyes as he stared at you. “i really did.”

“so i’ve been right this whole time.” he mumbles through a half smirk as he scrunches his nose at you, causing your heart to leap out of your chest. you feel him nudge your side with his knee. “you do actually like me.”

“maybe…” you whisper, your eyes going back to study on your hands. you can feel his piercing eyes shooting lasers through your skull, hesitant to even share eye contact.

“look at me and say it.” he mumbles through an endearing, bashful smile. “i want to see your lips form the words.”

“no.” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“please?” he whines, “i don’t wanna have to make you.”

you playfully scoff, throwing your head back to eye him again. “how are you going to—”

your muscles immediately tense up once you feel jungwon’s hands latch to your sides as he begins tickling you. you immediately go to grab at his wrists, trying to pry yourself out of his firm clutches while bursts of breathy laughter conjures up your throat. he lets go once your back finally hits the mattress, lying right beside him. “stop.” you breathe out, your chest heaving up and down with heavy breaths.

jungwon then turns on his side to face you, propping himself up on his elbow. “say it.” he whispers again, his eyes observing the features of your winded face. “repeat what you just said.”

you let a dramatic sigh roll out of your mouth, turning your head to the side to raise your eyebrows at jungwon’s amused expression. “i like you.” you tell him softly, an embarrassed curve rising up the side of your lip. “even though you’ve made my life hell.”

“i don’t think i believe you.” he whispers, furrowing his dark, black eyebrows down at you. he watches you as you sit up to mock his pose, propping yourself up on your own elbows.

“why not?”

“maybe if you kiss me i’ll believe it.” he tells you, as you watch the apples of his slightly freckled cheeks glow bright red. a shy, half smile raises at the corner of his pink lips, your eyes immediately averting to the dimple that presses into the soft, round skin of his cheek. he raises his eyebrows at your silence. “please?”

you can practically feel your heart beat rip at the tissue in your ears, feeling like your body might dissolve into dust on top of jungwon’s mattress. you swallow the nervous lump that had conjured inside your throat as you slowly lift your palms up to cup his round cheeks, inching your face forward closer to his own. your lips are practically brushing against each other’s, feeling his chin tilt up to edge them even closer. you lean your head back away from his lips for a split second, watching the furrow of his eyebrows. “you’re nervous.” you whisper against his mouth. “i can hear your heartbeat.”

“i am nervous.” he whispers shakily against your mouth, his hands going up to grip either of your wrists. “shut up. why are you calling me out?” he smiles against your mouth and you can practically feel the heat radiating from his cheeks, a soft giggle spilling from your nose as you finally connect your lips to his own.

it catches you by surprise once he lifts his lips from yours, only to pepper your mouth in soft, small kisses. you can hear the soft tuffs of his breathy, nervous giggles as he continues pressing his lips into yours, feeling his smile edge along your lips. you let your own nervous breaths tumble from your nostrils once he trails his lips from yours over to your cheek, where he places deeper kisses into the apple of it. “you’re so pretty, y/n.” you immediately feel heat tingle up your neck, letting jungwon settle his soft palm onto the other side of your jaw, his head cocking to the side to continue pressing his lips down the soft curve of your jawline. “so unbelievably pretty.”

“stop…” you whisper, feeling him inhale shakily as he peppers more kisses against the expanse of your cheek, his palm sliding down your neck. he exhales softly through his nose, which causes goosebumps to spread across your skin.

“i wish i could go back in time and tell you every. single. time i’ve thought that.” he slides his palm further down your neck to cup your jaw, his thumb going to hook under your chin to tilt your head up. “it would’ve been so much your head would’ve exploded.” you let out a nervous giggle, your hand going to softly wrap your fingers around jungwon’s wrist. “so maybe it’s a good thing i made fun of you.”

“jungwon..” you groan, sliding your hand up his warm arm. you let your eyelids flutter shut as he continues peppering pecks against your cheek. “i.. i don’t even know what to say to that.”

“good.”

“but…this reminds me,” you whisper through a painful cheek smile, getting deja vu from your chatting with juyang. jungwon hums against your cheek. “this reminds me of heart eyes luv by girlDoll.” you let a quick chuckle brush passed your lips, feeling jungwon smile against your skin. “you know, the lines about cheek kissing.”

“oh, wait.” jungwon then suddenly gasps, immediately backing away from your face. “y/n. you just reminded me.” he exclaims softly, settling both of his palms on your shoulders, his eyebrows raised as he looks you right in the eyes. “this is what i was going to show you.”

you watch him as he jumps right off of his bed, hurrying across his carpet and towards his black dresser against the other side of the wall. you watch as he leans over to rummage through its top drawer, your jaw dropping once he turns around holding up a vinyl record in his hand. “i have the sugar bomb album. on vinyl.” he raises his eyebrows at you, a smug smirk crawling up his lip as he nods slowly at your bewildered expression.

“what?” you exclaim, your lips still fallen ajar in shock. “how? that album came out like, a week ago? how?” you watch as the boy nonchalantly shrugs, walking over to the record player on his nightstand — the one you hadn’t noticed when you walked in — to settle the vinyl on top of it.

“i’m just cool like that.” you narrow your eyes at him as you tongue the inside of your cheek, giving him a slow, disapproving shake of your head.

“i’m telling your soccer team.” you announce, watching as he fiddles with his record player some more. he shrugs again, hearing a short crackle before the opening track icecream magic begins spewing from the rotating disc.

“that’s okay. i am a changed man.” he declares, plopping himself back onto the bed. he settles himself in front of you, leaning back on his elbows as he gazes at you with softened eyes. “you’re still going to the concert with me, right?” he whispers to you, nudging your shoe with his own sock-clad foot.

“yeah.” you whisper back, mentally trained in onto the soft, melodic vocals of the kpop trio. you watch jungwon flash you another dimpled smile, his tongue going to slide over his bottom lip.

“okay, good,” he whispers again, throwing you the subtlest wink. “because i planned to make-out during this song.”

your body immediately flushes with warmth, your eyebrows furrowing nervously up into your forehead. “you’re joking.”

you watch jungwon shrug, a curve hiking up the side of his lip. you watch as he goes to scratch his upper arm, his knuckles drifting up his sleeve. “i guess you’ll just have to see at the concert, huh?”

a/n: helloooo everyone T-T i have risen from the dead. aaah i hope you guys liked this little unexpected fic :> ive been wanting to write something nice for jungwon for a while now and i’m so glad i finally got to! this took about like a WEEK??? but phew i really hope you guys didn’t hate it too much T-T i will be posting more sfw works in the future, so please anticipate it!! if you’d like to be added to my perm taglist, please let me know, it is open! if any of you are interested in being added to a separate nsfw taglist or sfw taglist, please let me know that as well!! :> thank you sooo much for reading :>> smooches you all hard in the face. ♡ >:)

perm taglist ! @5xiang @svnoofy

#wokeuplikethis

notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

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Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3