You Fumble With The Buttons On The Video Camera, Pressing The Record Button Until The Red Dot Blinks,

You fumble with the buttons on the video camera, pressing the record button until the red dot blinks, indicating that the device is now saving whatever scene that’s on the lens into the memory card. Your hold is shaky, but you manage to lift the thing until it’s eye-level with you.

“Tae,” you call, pouting when he offers you a non-committal hum as a reply.

“Taeeee,” you whine out, the footage in the camera blurs for a second because one of your hand lets go of it in favor of shoving the boy on the shoulder to get him to look at you.

“What?” he finally says, head turned to you slightly as he gives you a side glance. It kinds of look intimidating, and you almost coward away behind the device in your hand.

“Look here,” you say, gesturing to the camera, and he does.

Taehyung stares at the lens with so much intensity in his eyes you could feel yourself blush, even though he’s not directly staring at you. You kinda regret asking him to look at the lens now.

“Don’t— God, Tae! Soften your gaze! It looks like you’re going to murder someone,” you let out, trying to distract Taehyung (and yourself) from the fact that a mere stare can make your face warm and red, akin to embers dying out from a flame.

“Sorry, I’m not in love with this thing.” He taps the camera in your hand, shaking the image in the screen once again. “My soft gaze is only for you,” he continues, giving you a wink before a hint of a smirk appears on the corner of his lips.

You roll your eyes despite your warming cheeks, stopping the recording and turning the camera off.

“Couldn’t you be any cheesier?” Sarcasm is used, Taehyung doesn’t need to know how much his words earlier affected you.

He shrugs. “You love it.”

Love it, love him.

That, you do.

february 17th, 2019

masterlist | secreto

“Waa!”

You look up from your phone to find Jeongguk with his palms up next to his head, covered in huge white gloves stained with red substance. Your expression is blank as he deflates, sighing.

“Aren’t you scared? It’s blood!” he says, eyes wide like ping pong balls.

“That’s.. kimchi seasoning, Jeongguk,” you reply with a tired sigh, intending to go back to your phone when his pout stops you.

“I just wanted to cheer you up, since you seem to be upset this whole day..”

His voice is small, like he’s disappointed but doesn’t want to make you more upset at the same time. His hands go back to the kimchi he was attending to before, bangs covering his eyes as he casts his gaze down to the bowl.

Guilt courses through you, you know he only ever means well and it’s completely your fault that he looks as dejected as he is right now.

Getting up from the couch, you go to his figure behind the kitchen counter, slowly winding your arms around his waist.

“Sorry..” you mumble into his back, “just had a shitty day. Didn’t mean to make you upset.”

You feel his hand on top of yours on his stomach, stroking gently, slightly calming you down.

“It’s okay, I’m not upset,” he says soothingly.

Jeongguk continues his kimchi-making activities, doesn’t protest the way your arms kinda get in the way.

You two are silent for a moment, before you tighten your hold on him because of the sudden surge of feelings.

“Jeongguk?” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

february 15th, 2019

masterlist | secreto

love (and all of its complications) | kth

— pairing: photography student!tae x reader

— genre: fluff, angst (a bit) | college au

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings: insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, (most likely) inaccurate use of photography terms, the nickname love, brief mention of min yoonji (haha)

— summary: when you think you're not worth loving, he lists all the reason why you are.

— author's note: this is a request from a friend based on the song best part of me by ed sheeran (ft. yebba)! so its a bit oc-centric. if you're having similar thoughts to oc, i hope tae's words can become a source of comfort for you :) enjoy!

masterlist

The first thing you notice upon waking up from slumber is the weight of your boyfriend’s head on your chest, his fluffy hair tickling your chin. As much as you like having him close like this, the position makes it hard for you to breathe, so you shift your body a little to give your lungs the oxygen they deserve. Your movement triggers that of his as well, his arm tightening around your waist and his leg around your legs, making you sigh in defeat.

A glance at the wall clock tells you that it’s still way too early for him to wake up, so you decide to give him those extra hours of sleep you know he will appreciate later. Your hand settles on his hair, fingers running through the strands once before you angle your head to give him a kiss on the top of his head. He stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up, instead he snuggles closer to your body like you’re his personal body pillow.

When your hand catches on his t-shirt while rubbing his back, the black color of the fabric reminds you that your boyfriend had gone straight to bed last night in the same clothes he had been wearing all night. Any protests you put up fell on deaf ears as he whined for you to get into bed with him, claiming he was too exhausted to wash up. Between his big puppy eyes and pouting lips, you couldn’t find it in you to deny him of your hold, allowing him to pull you onto the mattress and into dreamland.

Last night was the opening night of Taehyung’s photography exhibition, so you understand the state of exhaustion he’s in. You’ve witnessed first-hand how stressed he was preparing for this event, from the initial proposal to choosing the photos to display and arranging them in the exhibition venue according to his vision. It was filled with countless sleepless nights and too many cups of coffee you started to worry about his wellbeing, something you told him often. Despite his reassurance that he would be fine, you still found yourself biting your lip in worry every time he looked even the slightest bit tired.

Last night, he proved to you that all of those sleepless nights and bitter coffees are worth it as he proudly hosted the opening night of his own exhibition that has been his dream for so long. You had watched as the sparks never left his eyes for the entirety of the night, even though he had to be on his feet for hours and talk non-stop to the guests. You watched with admiration in your eyes every time he explained the meaning behind the photos on display, feeling pride swell in your heart when you see that people were as mesmerized as you were listening to him talk about his art.

You had let yourself wander around the exhibition without him, letting him be the star of the show on his own. It was fascinating to see the exhibition in its finished form when you’ve only seen parts of the building process, seeing the bits you recognize and how it came to life with the things added around them. It was also different seeing the photos finally lined up according to the story that Taehyung wants to tell, the message he wants to convey. Through the various colors and techniques, he bares his mind to everyone and hopes that it was enough to be understood.

You’ve always admired Taehyung’s photography skills. The way he captures mundane things and makes them appear extraordinary in his shots never fails to evoke emotions out of you, sometimes even making you believe that the world is as beautiful as it is behind his camera lens. Often you wonder if that’s how he sees the world — through a rose-colored glass, void of the black-colored stains that’s always lurking in the corner.

You found the answer last night, when he was talking to his photography club friends about the general theme of his exhibition. It’s not exactly looking at the world through a rose-colored glass — or lens, in his case — but just to show people than you can find beauty even in the tiniest nook and cranny of places you never thought to be beautiful. You thought it’s an endearing concept, but one of his friends argued that the narrative seems too idealistic in the way it sugarcoats the harsh realities of the world. They had launched into a discussion of this topic with different opinions from each one of Taehyung’s friends, giving their own input as to why this is damaging or healing.

The discussion was intense and at some point even they made you voice your thoughts on the matter as someone who doesn’t see the world through a lens like the rest of them. Your answer, of course, made them groan because it aligns with your boyfriend’s opinion, giving the impression that you were just saying things to support him even though it was your honest thoughts on the topic. Taehyung had given you a huge grin before squeezing you in a side-hug, relaying his gratitude silently. The conversation continued in a good-manered banter, soon after shifting to the techniques used in Taehyung’s photographs.

The words being thrown around sounded so foreign to you, who was only able to recognize the terms composition and exposure. Something about positioning, lighting, coloring, editing.. you tuned them out after a while. Despite so, you didn’t miss the way Taehyung talked animatedly about his craft, responding to each and every query from his friends with enthusiasm. It was clear from the discussion that everyone in the club is really passionate about this, about the things they want to tell through photographs, about the message each of them carries in every frame they capture.

Sometimes you wonder how it feels to be that passionate about something.

You have your own interests and hobbies, of course, ones you even think are your passion in life that you’d continue doing for the rest of your life. You spend weeks, months, years to perfect your own art until you’re confident that you have put out the best results and can proudly present them to the world. Surely, this is your passion, your life calling, you’re meant to do this for as long as you live. For a moment, you truly believed that.

Soon after, reality turns bleak as you come to a realization that your best does not even come close to someone else’s worst. Every corner you turn, there’s always someone with more things to offer; more appeal, more elegance, more eloquence. Your best result, the one you created with all the effort you could muster, paled in comparison to them. Hell, it was annihilated, utterly destroyed without a trace left. You’d watched your dreams crash and burn, taking your confidence with them.

Striped off your art, your passion, you’re left with a gaping hole of what else? What else do you have to offer to the world? What else do you have in you that’s worth showing off? What else can you do to prove your worth? What else can you do if not this?

Those questions play themselves in an endless loop inside your head, plaguing your mind day in, day out. There are times when they’re not as loud, only serving as background noise while you go through your day, but you find there are more times that they are roaring in your ears like thunder prior to a storm. They get worse whenever you see people talking about what they do with so much fervor, the fire in their eyes reflecting in your empty ones. Your fire was long gone even before it was able to be ablaze.

Often times, it makes you wonder whether you’ll ever be good enough without a passion.

“Honey? Sweetheart?”

Your boyfriend’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. It sounds even deeper than normal, indicating that he just woke up. When you look down, though, his eyes are wide open and there’s concern in them, like he can hear the thunder that rumbled in your head moments prior. You hope not. It’s too early for him to be worried.

“Are you okay?” Uh, oh. “I called you like, five times before this. Thought you were still asleep, but you’re awake..” Taehyung turns in your hold, holding himself up using his right arm. The worry in his eyes doesn’t cease, and you hate to be the cause of it.

“I’m fine, Tae, why wouldn’t I be?” You press your lips into a faint smile, hoping he would just chalk it up to you being tired from the event last night. His left hand comes up to your cheek and you lean into the touch, unconsciously releasing a small sigh.

“You had that faraway look that you do whenever you’re thinking about something,” Taehyung says, his gaze analyzing your expression. “And this time, it’s paired with a frown,” he continues, the pad of his thumb lightly brushing over the corner of your lips which you try really hard to keep upturned. “You’re not fine, love.”

Another sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes, hating the fact that your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand.

“Yeah, it’s just..” How do you downplay this so he doesn’t get more worried? “..morning woes,” you settle. That should be enough. “Don’t worry about it, Tae.”

Your hand reaches for his head so you can go back to running your fingers through his hair like you were doing before he woke up, but he’s having none of it as he pushes himself to a sitting position, ridding you of his body warmth. “You saying that is the reason why I have to worry,” he counters. “Is it one of my friends? Or the guest? Did anyone make you uncomfortable last night?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you rush to correct his assumptions. Although it is true that your spiraling thoughts started because of his friends, it’s not for the reason he’s thinking of. “It’s just me thinking too much, Tae, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him once again.

“About what?” Taehyung asks, eyes never leaving yours. You wish he’d turn his gaze somewhere else, because you’re not sure the clouds behind your irises can be hidden for much longer. You’d hate to taint this important moment for him with your clouds, dark and rumbling in your mind.

Apparently you’re silent for too long that he deems you’re back in your head again. “Hey, it’s okay.. you can tell me,” he whispers, thumb stroking your cheek gently. His eyes have gone softer now, no longer staring at you with concern swimming in his orbs. You should be relieved, happy that he’s not worried anymore, but somehow the emotion replacing that worry makes your heart tighten in your chest.

Love.

He’s staring at you with love. Gentle and quiet, like he’s saying it doesn’t matter what you have in your mind, doesn’t matter how dark the clouds are, doesn’t matter how much the storm is raging, he will always find your hand to hold and pull you out into the light. He will always love you, whether your head is filled with a ray of sunshine or a raging storm.

“Do you love me?” You say quietly. It’s almost rethorical, with the way his gaze has your answer even before you voice out the question.

“Yes, of course I love you.” It doesn’t even take a second for him to answer. “Is this what you were thinking about? Whether I love you or not?” Taehyung sounds genuinely surprised, maybe because it never occurred to him to doubt his love for you.

Instead of responding to his question, you put your arms around his shoulders and pull him down for a hug. It’s an uncomfortable position and his arms are bent at an awkward angle, but you don’t care. You need to let this man know that you’ve never doubted his love for you either, only the reason behind it and whether you deserve it or not.

“Love, will you tell me what’s going on?” Taehyung’s voice is muffled against your shoulder. You blink back tears that are threatening to spill out as you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Why do you love me, Tae?”

The whispered question makes him pull away from the hug to get a look at your expression. You lost your hiding place and have no choice but to let him see you in this state; glassy, red-rimmed eyes, vulnerable. Taehyung’s eyebrows slope downwards and he looks like he’s something between angry and upset. It occurs to you that the single sentence you let out could have been interpreted in so many different ways, so you rush to explain yourself.

“It’s not that — that I don’t believe that you love me. It’s just..” you take a deep breath and release it in a shaky sigh. “Why are you in love with me? I’m not as pretty as your other friends, I’m not talented, not even that smart. Heck, I quit doing my art because I wasn’t good enough at the thing I claimed to be my passion. I don’t have anything about me to be proud of, to be worthy of being loved. Why are you still with me? You could have anyone else that has so much more to offer than me..”

By the end of your explanation, tears have flown freely down your cheeks. It seems silly to be crying even before noon, but the demons inside your head don’t look at the time when they summon storms. You just wish Taehyung didn’t have to see this. He doesn’t deserve this version of you when he has given you nothing but his best.

“I’m still with you because you make me happy,” Taehyung says. He pulls you up into a sitting position before cupping your cheeks in his huge hands, thumbs brushing away your tears. He doesn’t stop even when they continue flowing out of your eyes.

“I’m still with you because you make me laugh with your one-liners, because you laugh at my jokes. I’m with you because you call my photos beautiful even when I think they’re not. I’m with you because you don’t get mad at me whenever I burn food and instead offer to clean up with me. I’m with you because you push me to be the best version of myself even without realizing it.

“You’re beautiful, talented, and smart, love. Even when you choose not to believe it yourself. You’re courageous, too, for deciding to quit when you felt it was too much for you. Many people might not agree with me, but it takes great courage and strength to be able to quit from something you’ve been doing for so long with so much effort. It’s okay if you don’t have something to be passionate about right now, I will be here for you until you find a new one, or maybe get back to the one you left.”

Taehyung smiles, and your sobs get uglier.

“I love you for all the reasons you think you don’t deserve to be loved for, so you can quit worrying about it, okay?”

You sob loudly and he chuckles, endeared, as he pulls you back into his arms. His hands rub soothingly down your back, letting you cry on his shoulder without any complaints. Pressing his cheek against the top of your head, he releases a relieved sigh with a small smile.

“You know, it’s a wonder as well that you love me,” Taehyung laughs quietly. “I can’t cook, I’m terribly messy, and when I work on my project I ignore you for days. Do you remember the twenty missed calls you left because I fell asleep in the studio when preparing for the exhibition?”

You sniff and chuckle, your voice sounding funny when you talk because of your blocked nose. “That’s because you’re passionate. You just worried me when you didn’t pick up your phone, thought you were dead from exhaustion.” You clear your throat to get rid of the scratchiness of your voice. “Also I don’t mind that you can’t cook, as long as you stay updated on delivery places so we have something different to eat every day.”

“You don’t mind that I can’t cook because you can’t cook either, love.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Taehyung lets out another chuckle as he squeezes your form, peppering your head with kisses. You both stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s body warmth. It allows you to settle the storm inside your head, now only a pitter-patter against the window in your mind. Soon, it’ll be filled with sunshine again. You believe it will.

“Can I ask you about something?” Taehyung says after minute of being silent. You hum your affirmation, allowing him to continue. “What triggered you? To think about all of that this early in the morning?”

“It’s almost eleven, Tae, not early at all,” you muse, ignoring the first part of his question. You let out a sigh when he gives no response to your joke. “Just.. meeting your friends last night. They’re fine, I swear! But the way you guys were talking about the exhibition, about photography in general.. it made me realize how passionate you all are and made me wonder why I can’t be that passionate towards something as well. Yeah, there you go.”

“Oh, love..” Taehyung sighs.

“Also, your friends are really pretty and talented, I couldn’t help but feel insecure, you know?” You add, tone light and playful to let your boyfriend know that you’re okay now. Even if there’s some truth to your words. “Who’s the one who has dark blue hair? I saw the shot she showed you on her phone, it was really beautiful and stuck with me the most.”

“Oh, that’s Min Yoonji. If you remember Yoongi from the club last year, she’s his twin. Yoongi couldn’t come last night so he sent her in his stead,” Taehyung explains. “You don’t have to be insecure, though. Yoonji might be pretty and talented, but she’s not you.”

You snort out a shy laugh. “Alright, I get it. Ease up on the flirting, will you?”

“Hey, I’m serious!” He laughs and it’s so contagious you find yourself laughing out loud as well. “Really, though, love. Okay?”

“Hmm,” you respond. Then, “I love you, Tae.”

“I love you too,” he replies. “Now can we get breakfast? Brunch? I’m starving.”

And as you laugh again, you think you’ll be fine. You think the storms will calm down into a drizzle, and the drizzle will soon let up to allow a ray of sunshine to pass through the clouds. There might even be a rainbow adorning the sky of your mind, and it will look picture-perfect just like how Taehyung captures the world in his lens.

You’ll be fine.

— a/n: thanks for reading! tell me your thoughts here :)

between grocery trips and boxing sessions, where do we stand? | jjk

— pairing: boxer!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff | college!au, boxer!jk, childhood friend!jk, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

— word count: 3.3k

— warnings: harsh words, tattooed and pierced jk (eyebrow and lip), making out, both jk and oc being idiots

— summary: after too many trips to the grocery store and boxing gym, the blurry lines start clouding your vision. he’s determined to set things straight—his way.

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

Cleaning duty sucks.

You have been aware of this fact ever since you were little, when your mom would tell you to help her clean around the kitchen while she was cooking. Back then, it was only as simple as helping her keep the counter clean by throwing plastic wrappers into the trash can. You soon realized, though, that life wasn’t gonna be that simple forever as you hauled trash bags outside on the daily.

As you grow even older, you learn that cleaning goes far beyond throwing the trash out.

“... don’t forget to vacuum the floor, wipe the kitchen counter after you cook, and oh— please change my bedsheets and do the laundry, okay sweetie? We’ll be back next week. Love you!”

That was your mom’s farewell message as she got into the car with your dad, off to a vacation in a location unknown to you. Apparently they thought it was a good idea to go on a vacation when you’re home because then they wouldn’t have to worry about the house being empty and dirty when they’re away. You almost felt offended that they were treating you like a housekeeper, but you guess they deserved some alone time away from you after taking care of you for the past 19 years.

Suddenly feeling obligated to repay what they have done for you for all your life, you start checking off things in the mental note you made of the list your mom gave you. You vacuumed the floor, did the laundry, changed the sheets in your parents’ bedroom, wiped the kitchen squeaky clean, even made time to water your mom’s plants even though she didn’t ask you to do it. All in one day.

By the time you finish everything and have taken a shower, it’s nearing midnight and your whole body is too sore and heavy to even get yourself to bed. You take refuge in the living room couch, one arm over your eyes because you really don’t have the energy to get up and turn the lights off. Maybe putting this off until the last minute was a terrible idea after all.

The soft couch cushion you’re lying on makes it so easy to slip into slumber, like a lullaby welcoming you to sleep with its open arms. You don’t even care that the room is still bright or the fact that you don’t have a blanket on, you still let sleep take you away. It doesn’t occur to your tired mind that you haven’t even locked the doors yet.

You’ve only been asleep for a few minutes when your mind registers faint murmurs from a person who’s sitting by your waist on the couch.

“.... she’s fine …”

“... asleep now, yeah …”

“... yes, I will, okay …”

“ … yeah, no problem. Bye.”

There’s a split second of fear upon realizing you were supposed to be alone in the house right now, but something about the person’s voice sounds so familiar that you find yourself relaxing rather quickly. When you crack one eye open to check, a pair of round eyes stares back at you with worry. You close your eyes again with a groan.

“What are you doing here.”

He doesn’t answer your question and instead nudges your arm away from your face so he can press his palm against your forehead. The warmth it provides you is so fleeting that when he pulls away you find yourself wanting to reach for his hand to put it back on your forehead. (You hate how weak you are to his body warmth.)

He is obviously unaware of your inner dilemma and he sounds upset as he says his next words.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? Do you know how worried I was when I received a call from your mom sobbing, saying that she hadn’t been able to reach you for the past hour? Do you know how fast I was driving just to get here as soon as possible? Do you even have any idea how upset I am right now to find you sleeping on the couch? Why are you sleeping on the couch anyway?”

His increasing volume is too loud for your still-hazy mind and you flail your arms around to get him to shut up. After taking some time to process his train of concern, your focus is set on one thing:

“Why did my mom call you of all people?”

“That’s the only thing you heard from my abundance of questions? Seriously?” He sounds offended. “Find your phone. I’m going to sleep here because apparently I can’t leave you unsupervised for one day without you going MIA and causing everyone to panic.”

He gets up from the couch and you open your eyes to see him headed for the door. You just realize that he’s in his gym clothes, hair still wet with perspiration. Was he in the middle of a boxing session when your mom called? How bad was it that he didn’t think to shower first before going straight to your home?

You decide to ignore the weird feeling in your chest that arose after those thoughts, choosing to instead search for your phone like Jeongguk told you to. You find it lying next to the television, run out of battery because you had used Spotify on it while you were cleaning all day. Clearly plugging it into the charger had slipped your mind when you were busy being exhausted after deep-cleaning your house and its contents.

Jeongguk comes back into the house with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, confirming your suspicion earlier that he came straight from a boxing session. He locks the door behind him and faces you with a stern look on his face.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says. “Please don’t do anything stupid while I do.”

You roll your eyes. “My phone was dead and I fell asleep! It wasn’t stupid!”

He’s already turning around but has time to slip in a last comment over his shoulder. “Stupid enough to make your mom call your boyfriend while crying.”

This man just won’t give you a break. First he came barging into your house, yelled at you when you were half-asleep, dumped information about your mom calling him while crying, announced he was going to spend the night here, and now he calls himself your boyfriend?

What the hell is going on?

You plug your phone into the charger and wait for it to turn back on. It takes a while, and when it does you almost have a headache from how many missed calls there are from your mom. There are a few from your dad too, and even three from Jeongguk himself. It’s no wonder he had hurried straight home from the gym, your mom must have called him while spewing nonsense about how she was afraid that you were kidnapped or something.

You send a text to both your parents to assure them that you are okay before putting your phone down to let it charge. The absence of the device from your hand makes you suddenly aware of the faint sounds from the bathroom, reminding you that you are no longer alone in the house.

“Jeon Jeongguk! Don’t use my shampoo!”

You’re falling asleep again in the exact same spot when a freshly-showered Jeongguk dumps his body on top of yours, completely disregarding the fact that his big build could crush you. You try to shove him off you but he makes himself a dead weight, refusing to budge. You wonder how this man still has this much strength when he just got back from exercising half an hour prior.

“I’m sorry,” he says from his position on your chest. “For yelling at you. I was really worried and scared that something bad had happened to you.”

You feel his words more than you hear them, half because of his position and the other half because he lets them out in a sound above a whisper. He sounds genuinely sorry for once, the usual playful undertones gone from his voice. You pat his back softly to let him know he doesn’t have anything to worry about.

“But seriously though, what were you doing that you were completely off the grid? Your mom was almost hysterical when she called me, you know.” He splays his hands on your stomach, propping his chin on them in order to look at your face.

“Cleaning,” you mumble out. “Mom told me to deep-clean the house while she’s away and I put it off until today because a certain someone couldn’t stop bothering me for the past week.”

Your eyes are still closed so you can’t see the expression Jeongguk is making in response to your answer, but you’re pretty sure he’s scoffing right now.

“I was supervising you,” he says. “Also don’t act like you hate spending time with me, I still remember that one time you drooled over my muscles while I was boxing.”

“Shut up or I’m kicking you out.”

“How exactly are you going to do that? You’re currently stuck between the couch and my very muscly body and I have my big arms around your body, you’re literally trapped.” As if to prove his point, his hold on your waist tightens just a fraction. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Dreamland, that’s where I’m going.” You put your arm over your eyes again, a sign that you’re done dealing with this human being on your stomach. “Good night, Jeongguk.”

“Aw, come on,” Jeongguk whines. “You have your boyfriend in your home, your parents are away, and it’s only a little past midnight. Other girls would kill for an opportunity like this and all you wanna do is sleep?”

You heave out a huge sigh before opening your eyes to look at him with an annoyed expression on your face.

“Okay, first, I’m not ‘other girls’—” You make air quotation marks with your hands. “—and I just really want to go to sleep right now. Second, you’re gross. Third, you’re not my boyfriend. Stop saying you are.”

At that, he lifts himself off you but keeps hovering, his figure casting a shadow over you. “Hold on. What do you mean I’m not your boyfriend?”

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean’??”

He sounds confused. You sound even more confused.

The bewildered expression on his face doesn’t falter as he sits up, prompting you to do the same. “I, me, Jeon Jeongguk—” he points at himself with every word he says, “—am your boyfriend. You—” he points at you, “—are my girlfriend. Aren’t you??”

Your mouth is agape. “Since when??”

“Since the day I got here and you stared at my tattoos and piercings and we made out on this very couch?”

“What makes you think that makes me your girlfriend??”

“Well, you did kiss me first.”

“You tempted me to!”

“Ah, so you admit my lips are tempting?”

You pull at your hair in frustration, barely holding a scream in. Jeongguk looks like he’s having the time of his life teasing you like this.

“My point is,” you say through gritted teeth, “kissing each other doesn’t make us boyfriend and girlfriend. It takes way more shit to be my boyfriend.”

“Like what?” Jeongguk challenges.

“Oh I don’t know.. going on dates? Tell me you like me? Ask me if I want to be your girlfriend?”

You glare when he only chuckles as if you’re the one being ridiculous and not him. Sometimes you wonder if the gears in his head are working right; it seems like they malfunctioned at some point and are now turning backwards, resulting in his absurd behavior.

“We go on dates though?” When you only respond with a frown, he elaborates. “Grocery shopping dates?”

“That’s— that’s not a date, that’s me trying to shop in peace while trying to stop you from throwing anything and everything into the cart and potentially making us go over the budget limit.”

“Okay, guilty.” Jeongguk puts his hands up in mock surrender. “But I take you to my boxing sessions too! That’s a date! Kinda.. sorta..” he trails off with a guilty grin. You’re not convinced at all.

Heaving a sigh, you feel all of the energy in your body evaporate just from dealing with the boy in front of you. It doesn’t help that it’s almost two in the morning and your whole body is still sore from cleaning the house for the entire day.

“I don’t know how you can look like that but be clueless about this kinda thing,” you mumble, yawning before continuing your sentence. “If you want someone to be your girlfriend, tell her how you feel properly. Show her that you like her, that you want to be with her. Dragging her around and kissing her unprompted is not the way to do it, Jeongguk.”

“I don’t see it as dragging you around, though,” he says with a frown. “I ask you to go with me because I want you there with me. I never needed help choosing the brand for the milk my mom asked for because we always get the same brand every time. I just like the way you argued with me in the dairy aisle because I insisted that my mom wanted skimmed milk instead of whole milk. It was cute that you remembered how I had thrown up after drinking a glass of skimmed milk when I was twelve. The little things, you know?”

His somber expression lights up when he grins cheekily. “As for the boxing sessions, I just like watching you drool over my muscles and deny it when you’re caught.”

You grab a pillow closest to you and smack him square in the face with it.

“Alright, alright. I wanted to impress you with my boxing skills and show you that I’m no longer that skinny kid you knew in grade school. Like, ‘I’m cool now would you please look at me’ kinda way.”

You relent after his confession. “Yeah, alright, you’re cool now. Still though, all of that is useless because you didn’t say anything about wanting me to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah.. sorry about the lack of words. But I did show you a lot how much I wanted to be your boyfriend, like this.”

He leans forward and captures your lips with his.

Your mind immediately focuses on how his lip ring feels against your lips, the piece of silver never failing to make you feel things even after countless times of tasting it between your lips. You wonder if the reason he got the piercing in the first place was to make anyone who kisses him crazy and become addicted to kissing his lips, because you sure are. (But you won’t admit it directly to his face.)

You’re enjoying the way his lips press against yours when he groans in protest, hands reaching for your waist to pull you on his lap. You put your arms around his neck and he takes that as a cue to pull your body flush against his. All the while never breaking contact between his lips and yours.

When you’re playing with his lip ring with your tongue, you feel his lips lift up into a smirk, making you realize you have fallen into a trap so perfectly set you didn’t even see it coming. You pull away abruptly to give this boy a piece of your mind, but any thoughts you previously have are gone when he moves down and plants open-mouthed kisses down your throat.

“Still loving the ring, I see,” he says hotly against your skin. He trails his kisses upwards to your earlobe with his tongue peeking out, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Should I get one on my tongue too? Bet it would feel so much better than the one on my lip.”

The mental image of Jeon Jeongguk with piercings on both his lip and tongue is so dangerous that you will yourself to voice your objection aloud. “P-please don’t.”

“Why not?” he taunts. “I can already see you sucking on it, tugging on it with your own tongue.” He makes his way back down and is now mouthing at your collarbone. Kisses escalate into bites and you have to hold down a moan when he starts sucking at the spot. “Would feel amazing when I run my tongue on your lips.. the other lips too..”

You shudder thinking about the endless possibilities. And that is exactly why you need to stop this boy from getting a tongue piercing just for the sole purpose of riling you up.

“Y-you know.. this is not h-how you convince someone to be y-your girlfriend..”

“Hm.. really?” he nips at your neck and you yelp. “You seem to be enjoying this just fine.”

“Am n-not..”

“Say that again and I’ll make sure to use my lip ring on your other lips to shut you up.”

You bite your tongue in fear he will do as he says. There’s only so much you can take in one night.

“Good girl,” he says before crashing his lips back on yours.

In the morning, you find yourself waking up on the couch with Jeongguk splayed on top of you like a human body pillow. His head is on your chest, his messy hair sticking out in a hundred different directions. You belatedly realize that his hair smells like yours, which can only mean that he used your shampoo when showering last night. Must have missed your mind when you were occupied by another part of his body.

Him being on top of you makes you mostly immobile, only being able to move your arms around. So you settle on wrapping them around his frame, one hand reaching for his head so you can run your fingers through his hair slowly. The action is so soothing that you soon find yourself closing your eyes and slipping back to sleep.

You jolt awake, though, when your mom’s voice sounds from above you.

“Honey, you’re awake, right? Wake your boyfriend so you can have breakfast, I made omelettes.” She gestures to Jeongguk with the word boyfriend and you wonder if the sleeping boy told your parents that you are dating. That would explain why she called him when she couldn’t reach you last night.

You’re just about to shake him awake when he lets out a chuckle, letting you know he’s already awake. “You heard that, babe? Even your mom thinks I’m your boyfriend.”

“You told her that, didn’t you?” You scoff. “How long have you been awake?”

“A few minutes, maybe. Woke up to you playing with my hair and didn’t want you to stop so I stayed quiet.” He lets out a big yawn before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. “And no, I didn’t tell her anything. Maybe she just assumed we were dating because we make out all the time.”

“You’re really gross.” You pull at his hair a bit harshly but instead of groaning in pain, he does so in pleasure. “Oh yeah, baby, get kinky with me.”

“Oh my God, get lost.”

He chuckles again before planting a soft kiss on your neck, the gesture so soft you can’t believe that he just made a dirty joke a few seconds prior.

“So.. we’re dating now, right? I’m your boyfriend and you’re my girlfriend?” He asks quietly.

“I don’t know, you never asked.”

“I did last night!” Jeongguk claims, accosted. “And you said yes, although I doubt you remember because you were pretty out of it after I kissed you senseless for hours.”

“Alright, I remember now. Though I also remember that it’s with the condition that you never entertain the thought of getting a tongue piercing ever again.”

“Can’t you reconsider? It’ll feel amazing on your lips, on your chest, on your—”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Jeongguk laughs. “Love you, girlfriend.”

(Between grocery trips and boxing sessions, this one might just be your favorite.)

— a/n: thank you for reading! :) tell me your thoughts here

of basketball, bruises, and a black-haired boy — pt. i | jjk

— pairing: basketball player!jk x named oc

— genre: fluff, angst (a bit) | high school au, childhood friends au, neighbors au, friends enemies to lovers

— word count: 19 text panels + 0.3k

— warnings: annoying jeongguk, high school (ew), named oc, hostile oc (bc jeongguk is annoying, heh)

— summary: being neighbors with the star player of the school's basketball team has never seemed like a big deal. until he plays at three in the morning—and misses a shot.

— author's note: hi! i'm back with another childhood friend!jk which is different from boxer!gguk (i'm uncreative.. i know) and this series is part-social media and part-narrated, this first part is told entirely in text messages. the second and third part will be fully narrated, i hope it's not confusing 😵‍💫 with that said i hope you enjoy!!

masterlist | basketball player!gguk masterlist

🏀 when he stops after being asked to

🏀 when she embarrasses herself after asking (threatening) him

🏀 when she yells at him and he calls her cute

🏀 when he misses a shot

🏀 when he cares, but she refuses

🏀 when he goes into her room

🏀 when he says sorry

🏀 when they were eleven

🏀 when he's loud but she's quiet

🏀 when she doesn't seem fine, and he's coming over

— a/n: thank you for reading! :) part two of this title would be when jeongguk comes over to junghwa's house heheh pls let me know what you think and should i continue or not here ^_^

should i make an ‘about me’ page.. or not 🤔 what should i do to make this blog more alive im not familiar with the features yet T_T