Skz Fanfic - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

"WORST REGARDS, YOUR KARMIC RETRIBUTION" — yang jeongin.

they say success is the best revenge, but sabotage feels better.

word count: 5.8k

pairings: jock!jeongin x nerd!reader

genre: fluff, humour, high school au, one sided enemies to lovers, slow burn, loosely inspired by i hope this doesn't find you by ann liang

warnings: swearing, partying, kissing, biblically accurate (religious) jeongin, everyone is the same age except chan, no use of y/n + gn reader, reader is literally evil incarnate plz dont do this irl ;;

playlist: ivy frank ocean, sexy to someone clairo, everybody talks neon trees, i can't radiohead

a/n: dedicated to @allforhee & all the other i.n stans out there :3 enjoy!!!

You know a lot of things. You know that the idea of zero was invented by an Indian mathematician and astronomer named Brahmagupta. You know how to recite your future Valedictorian speech in Latin. However besides these things, you also know that most things in life are pretty much uncertain.

Except your hatred for Yang Jeongin. That is your probability of 1.

Although your best friend Kim Seungmin says that your probability of 1 should probably be the fact that you’re a damn sore loser.

So when classes started to end and your school’s sports day rolled around, everyone knew not to cross your path. Either they would be on your team, or they wouldn’t even get near you. You’re not even that athletic; in fact, you can barely work out to save your life. But you’re the brains, the mastermind, of your team’s strategies. It’s like that saying, if you can’t beat ‘em, outsmart ‘em, or something like that.

You knew you were winning, or at least you thought you knew. Because just when you were about to cross your final lap of the track and field match, the corner of your eye caught a glimpse of Yang Jeongin’s infamously cordial grin. Disturbed by the audacity, you stop in your tracks to look at his friends sitting on the bleachers and feel a rush of satisfaction rush back in when you see them petrified for their friend’s questionable actions.

He won, of course. And though you took home five more gold medals than him that day, something about the utter disrespect of stealing the spotlight from somebody so clearly feared for a reason unsettles you.

Which is why you’re currently writing a letter to him threatening to take away his position in the basketball team if he doesn’t earn back your respect that he lost from a sports day event three years ago.

It’s less of a letter and more of a drafted email, since you’re not writing it by hand; he doesn’t get to have that sort of power over you. You’re not sending it either. God, no. You’re not that insane.

It’s simply a form of coping, nothing more. You’d reckon if you were to ask a therapist about this method, they would think it’s stellar. It’s like journaling… except instead of self-reflection, the end goal is to live in the delusional cloud where your nemesis knows and fears how much you hate them.

Do whatever your wretched soul can manage to revert back to the regular human state— that is, being absolutely petrified of my existence. Otherwise, say goodbye to that pretty “varsity basketball” title you adore so much.

A smirk twists upon the edges of your lips as your gaze fixes on the words you’ve just typed out. What’s the word for when you gain pleasure from the idea of torturing somebody else? You’re sure ‘sadist’ doesn’t apply when you only crave the suffering of one specific person.

You consider rewriting the entire letter on paper, for the sole purpose of leaving a crimson lipstick stain on the envelope for him to unseal. You don’t even use red lipstick, but perhaps the Irene Adler-ness of it all might subconsciously trigger a flight or fight response from him, as most stupid teenage boys do when faced with distinct power.

When other people fall asleep to daydreams about their crushes, you often drift away to slumber through the relaxation brought upon you from fantasizing about Yang Jeongin on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.

You would have fallen asleep to that dream for yet another night, but your best friend Kim Seungmin rang your phone. Now, if it was any other night, you would have sent him death threats and went back to your fantasies. However you had just asked Seungmin for a very special favor, so you decide to pick up.

“This better be about what I think it is,” you start. “I won’t put up with your post-exam depression bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that, I managed to get extra credits for everything.” Thuds and crackles fill the audio from the other side of the phone, and you can practically smell Seungmin’s bag of chips and old dusty laptop opening on his desk. “I got what you asked for.”

“Good, just forward it to my email.”

“I don’t understand why you would need it, though,” Seungmin’s voice is muffled by the chips in his mouth. “I mean, the team’s orders at Lucy’s Diner? Seriously? If you had a crush on one of them, you know I could just set you up, right?”

“Ew, I would never!” You fake gag, earning a chuckle from the boy on the other line. “C’mon, you know I have too much self respect for that.” “I think you mispronounced blatant narcissism and self obsession.”

The two of you go back and forth teasing one another for another moment until you urge Seungmin to send the list to your email. He inquires once again but you only brush him off, coming up with something about helping out at Lucy’s for the summer. Which wouldn’t be a complete lie, technically, if all went well.

You know you can’t tell Seungmin about your plan. Not right now. He’s reached that stage of being a teenage boy where he started developing attachment and empathy towards others, and now he’s practically attached at the hip with the rest of the basketball team. All he knows is that you hate Jeongin, and that’s enough for now.

And sure, this whole situation has made you question if you were actually a sociopath, but it needs to be done. You consider it a fair service to the community for taking down another straight male with no brains and a huge ego. They don’t know it yet, but he’s the common enemy.

Soon enough after the sports day incident you had come to the conclusion that if nobody could hate Yang Jeongin, you would make him hate you so much until a primal, animalistic desire to destroy you would take over his spirit. You assume he’d do something so utterly terrible, as men do, then afterwards everyone would finally see with their own two eyes that he is just like every other man in this cruel world. If anything, you’re volunteering as a sacrifice!

So as you zone out on Seungmin’s newfound amusement in the way Mr Marks’ glasses make him look like Chicken Little, you switch your tabs to open the sacred document.

In big, bold letters it reads OPERATION 143: 1 ENEMY, 4 PHASES, 3 YEARS.

The document itself already has over 25 pages, written in detail about your genius ideas to slowly infiltrate your enemy base from the inside out— most worked, but some of them just ended in your loss of dignity. You had even taken ideas from books and films like Parasite to further enhance its artistic integrity. These last three years were a performance, and Jeongin’s life is your stage. You have now entered phase four, and this is your closing act; nobody can steal your spotlight.

Contrary to the precise executions of your past eras, phase four is abstract. Its main goals are to disrupt Yang Jeongin’s peace as directly as possible, whilst leaving as little trail as possible. This, paired with the built up tension from the previous phases, is going to set in motion a domino effect, leading to the collapse of your greatest enemy’s social stature.

Accidentally letting a particularly mischievous giggle slip under your breath, you look back at the email you were drafting to him. You know exactly how to end it.

Careful where you run, Yang Jeongin.

Worst regards,

your karmic retribution.

This is your least favorite time of the year: the period just before summer break. Exams are over, so most teachers let students roam free during their lessons. But not going to school at all can take away from your total attendance, which then goes on your report card, so most students spend their school days sitting around in boredom and watching the sports teams play.

seungmo: Do u wanna come to practice

seungmo: Jisung bought cheesecake for everyone and I don’t want mine

seungmo: I don’t want him to take mine tho lol

That was fifteen minutes ago, and now you’re sitting on the bleachers on a date with a delicious slice of blueberry cheesecake and iced coffee, absentmindedly watching your best friend practice. Despite your close ties with Seungmin, you’ve never really been interested in the other team members— except for the occasional trading of homework answers with Jisung. Ever since middle school, you’ve sort of established that you want nothing to do with people like them: rowdy, sporty, and popular. Seungmin once noted that you say “popular” like it’s a slur. You couldn’t disagree.

“So… Karmic retribution, huh?”

You freeze.

“Pardon?” You turn around, only to be faced with the one and only Yang Jeongin.

“Karmic retribution?” He inquires further, expecting you to get the hint. “Y’know, what you called yourself in your… email? Death threat? Not sure what to call it, actually.”

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, dude,” you laugh off the question. “I don’t even know your name, let alone your email.”

“Well, that’s clearly a lie, since your name is on your email address. And my name was in your… Seriously, what should I call this thing?”

Fuck fuck fuck. You must have accidentally hit ‘send’ when you fell asleep on the phone with Seungmin. That prick; he always manages to embarrass you somehow.

“Listen, I didn’t even know you go here. I had to ask Chris if he knows which one you are, and you just happened to be here right now.” Jeongin rakes his fingers through his stupid gross sweaty damp hair, then dragging his palm across his face in exasperation. “Whatever I did to you, I’m really sorry.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know I go here?” You’re baffled, truly baffled, and you basically lost control of your body when you heard those words. Suddenly your voice can be heard by anyone within a ten foot radius, and if it weren’t for that they would have thought you were about to smother him with kisses by the lack of distance between your bodies. “I’ve been here since fucking middle school! I sit behind you in Spanish— I ask you for a pen every two and a half weeks only to lose it every single time. You’re saying you don't remember me?”

“Oh, that’s you? My bad. You sit behind me, so I didn’t really get to see your face up close.” Jeongin doesn’t even flinch at the proximity of your faces. He simply gives you a brief look up and down and goes, “Now that I am seeing you up close, you’re the one that always hangs out with Seungmin, right?”

Then it hits you: this is the universe sending you a signal to initiate phase four. Sure, him not remembering who you are might have set you back by a few milestones, but who’s counting? (You are. You always are.) 

If anything, you’re grateful for the redirection, because now you know that before you can ruin him, you must first build him up.

“Alright, look,” you begin, taking a step back to put some inches between the two of you. He reeks of rubber and soda, the stench makes you ill. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

“‘Kay, cool,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “See you around, I guess…?”

“Wait, that’s it? You’re not even gonna ask why I hated you in the first place?”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? We’re already starting over.” The genuine lack of irritation in his face makes you curl your fists and fight the urge to give him a black eye. “Plus, you’re one of those nice smart kids. I don’t have beef with your kind.”

And for the first time in your life you wanted desperately to become popular, because maybe then Jeongin would take you seriously.

But it’s fine. You’re going to destroy him regardless.

“Yo, not to interrupt this whole bonding thing we have going on, but I kinda need to head back to practice.” His voice snaps you back to reality. “Is that chill with you?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s chill.” You muster up your most convincing smile for him. One time in fifth grade your drama teacher told you you’re a natural actor, and you pray to God those innate talents are still there. Now that you think about it, she may have just been calling you a liar.

For good measure, you give him an awkward thumbs up before walking away. When you make eye contact with Seungmin, he raises his eyebrow as if to ask what the fuck was that? You can only shrug in response. You have no idea either.

You sit back down on the bleachers, occasionally eyeing your target, feasting your eyes on the way his muscles flex under his baggy Radiohead t-shirt when he dribbles the ball around the court and the sweat that drips from his hair. You’re used to your own deranged behavior, but this feels almost perverse. Maybe it’s because you’re basically acquaintances with him now (the word makes you want to spit your cheesecake back up), or maybe it’s because you can’t help but let your stare linger on the cross dangling from his chain.

Gross, you think to yourself, as you keep your eyes on him for the rest of the day.

On the last day of school before summer break, the unexpected happens: the basketball team invites you to their party. Well, technically, they invited everyone. It’s supposed to be Bang Chan’s last party before he graduates, and he just so happens to be friends with every single student. Thus, you and Seungmin are now situated in front of his front door, waiting for him to welcome you in.

You don’t usually go to parties, and to be very honest nobody really expects you to. The reasoning is a bit pretentious, you suppose, but you truly just don’t believe in the necessity of rebellion in leading to better adulthood. However you do believe in yourself and your incredibly sexy intellectual prowess, and you have an operation to carry out, so tonight you let yourself let loose just a bit.

“Ah, there you guys are!” Chan greets you and Seungmin, ushering you inside his… house is an understatement, honestly, it’s a mansion. “Mingle around!”

You’re still out of place, you notice. Since you didn’t plan on actually drinking or dancing, you decided to come in your usual get-up of your dream university’s merch sweater and a pair of baggy jeans. You mentally cursed yourself for not realizing that all of Chan’s friends would be the cool, charismatic type.

Suddenly wishing you had stayed home instead, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, which was (fortunately for you) on the second floor, away from most of the crowds. When you get there, however, you’re met with Jeongin’s sharp gaze in front of the door.

“Been a while,” he states, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Could I get you anything? A drink, maybe?”

“I don’t drink. At least not tonight,” you respond. Then you notice that his hands are also empty. “What about you?”

“Nah, I don’t do that stuff.” He shakes his head to enunciate his disapproval. “I don’t mind that the other guys do it, but I’m pretty religious, so…”

The devil perched upon your shoulder whispers hot but the angel on the other side exclaims what the fuck?

“Cool.” You stare at your shoes, thinking about how to turn this exchange into yet another round of revenge. When you get an idea, you beam up at him. “Wanna walk and talk with me?”

The moment he verbalizes his agreement, you grab him by the arm and rush downstairs. There, you do as you had suggested: walk and talk. Turns out Chan’s first floor is big enough for about thirty minutes of conversation.

When you get to the outdoor pool, you take off your shoes and dip your toes in the water with Jeongin following suit, sitting right beside you. Your conversation drifts to so many different topics— music, childhood TV shows, dating— you almost forget the reason why you brought him here. He’s observant, you notice, and he has thoughts on a lot of different things, something you didn’t think was possible. You always thought he was just dumb.

“Y’know, I was kinda flattered by your email, I’m not gonna lie,” he admits sheepishly.

“Pardon?” You look at him, puzzled. “Did you say flattered?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, no one really notices me like that.”

You stare at him, eyes blank and mouth agape. Surely this guy has gone insane, right? He’s one of the school’s most beloved students, by other students and faculty members alike.

“Like, I know they like me, but I don’t really stand out amongst the others. Chris is the friendly one, Minho is the mysterious one, Changbin is the strong one, Hyunjin is the artistic one, Jisung is the funny one, Felix is the kind one, Seungmin is the smart one, and what am I? I have all those qualities too, but they pale in comparison. People don’t have enough reason to hate me, but I know they think I’m boring. So being hated so passionately was kind of a big thing for me… I’m sorry, is that weird?”

If you didn’t want to slap him before, you sure as hell do now. How blindly privileged is this guy that his problem in life is not being the coolest guy on the varsity basketball team? You puff out your cheeks to hold back an exasperated sigh, and pull out a gentle smile instead.

“Jeongin, I don’t think people see you that way at all.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Have you ever considered that maybe they might just be a bit intimidated by you?”

This is exactly how your mother talks to you when you start crying about how nobody ever has a crush on you on a random Thursday night. God bless that woman for gaslighting you into a positive attitude.

“You really think so?” He looks at you with these wide puppy-like eyes and you finally understand what the girls on Instagram mean when they talk about ‘getting the ick.’

“Really,” you affirm with a bright smile.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

Just as he pulls you into a warm embrace, you push him just subtly enough that he wouldn’t notice it until he’s falling into the pool. With a large splash, all eyes turn to the two of you. He comes up from the water, clothes and hair drenched, and you feel a sense of satisfaction wash over you when you finally see a distressed expression etch itself onto his features.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” You lie, faking your concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… I’m fine.” He climbs out of the pool, and you curse yourself for staring a little too long at his defined muscles under his wet shirt. Then, he turns to you and says, “Needed to cool off anyways.”

And he laughs. Laughs at himself and laughs at your befuddled face and laughs when Chan asks if he’s alright, shooting him a quick thumbs up before grabbing the nearest beach towel. When his other friends crowd around him, he laughs and laughs and laughs and it drives you fucking insane. The resonating sound of his laughter surrounds the backyard in an instant, and for a moment you wish you had drowned yourself in that pool instead.

“I will shove my middle fingers in your dimples,” you mutter under your breath, and you consider it a promise.

“Be right back,” he tells you before rushing to the nearest bathroom to change his clothes, playfully flicking droplets of water onto your face and ruffling your hair, dampening it.

You watch as he walks away, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest when you notice his smile faltering as people start to focus amongst themselves again. Now it’s your turn to laugh, half out of disbelief and half out of pure glee.

Everything is going according to plan.

“I didn’t push him.”

Lie.

“We were just talking.” Lie.

“I still hate him.”

Lie?

Wow, three lies in a row. And to your best friend, of all people. This Operation 143 has really tested your moral compass, and it’s not looking great for you. No wonder why Seungmin is calling you at 3 AM, interrogating you about what the hell happened tonight.

“See, now, some of those statements kind of contradict each other,” he states. “I have no doubt that you still hate him, but I also don’t doubt the pure evil in your heart. You would have pushed him, and you wouldn't even be sorry about it.”

“Uh, well, you’re wrong,” you tell him. “Clearly you don’t know me that well then.”

“Whatever you say, but if one day you decide to come clean of your crimes, you owe me something. Something very very dear to me.”

At first you were nervous, because it’s obvious your best friend is on to you (note to self: be less evil on a day to day basis). But then you remember it’s your best friend, there’s only one thing he would want from you in this situation.

“Yes, yes, I’ll take you out for a fancy dinner,” you sigh. “That’s only if I confess my sins to you, Father Seungmin, and it’s not happening because I’m completely innocent.”

“Please never call me that again.”

“Noted.”

At that, your phone buzzes with a new notification. It’s from an unknown number, but you can see a display name. Jeongin.

~Jeongin: u up?

God, could this guy act more like a fuckboy? Somehow noticing the tension in the air despite your physical distance, Seungmin questions your mood.

“Jeongin just texted me.”

“Oh, so that’s what he wanted your number for.”

“Are you dumb?” You ask, but it feels more like an accusation. “Why the fuck else would he ask for my number, idiot?”

Seungmin makes a noise equivalent to a shrug, and you let it pass. You were just about to question him further about Jeongin asking for your number, but the man himself texts once again.

~Jeongin: wanna hang tmr?

“Ew,” you mutter quietly. “I think he thinks we’re friends or something.”

“Oh, right, I remember you don’t do those.” You can almost hear his eyes rolling at your annoyance at Jeongin. He’s expressed his disapproval for your one-sided rivalry many times, but you always bite back with words too vulgar to write down here.

“Yeah, you know you’re only my close acquaintance, right?” You turn your attention back to your phone, biting your thumb in deep thought. “I’ll be mean to him. Should send the right message.”

You need to change your technique anyway. Befriending him only to be annoying is only going to make him like you more, and betraying him out of the blue takes too much commitment. This is phase four, after all— you have such little time to get the job done. If you manage to succeed during senior year, people aren’t gonna care anymore because everybody is leaving anyway.

You won’t shy away from it anymore; it’s time to be direct. It’s time to be evil.

You: no.

Seungmin sputters out a laugh once you send the screenshot of your texts to him. “You couldn’t have even given him a reason why? God, you’re crueler than I thought.”

“Why can’t he just hate me back?” You whine, slumping your shoulders defeatedly. “Why is he so… So nice? What’s wrong with him?”

“Maybe he likes you,” Seungmin teases. “I kinda see the vision, actually. The nerd and the jock… Classic perfection.”

“You mean cliché,” you groan. “His type is probably other athletes or something. Popular people date popular people, Seungmo.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin continues in a sing-song tone, so you close your ears and make weird noises, a signal that it’s time for him to shut the fuck up.

jeongin (DONT RESPOND): oh

jeongin (DONT RESPOND): ok :[

A week later you’re sitting in front of the bus station, waiting for Seungmin to arrive. He had promised to take you to the new coffee shop that just opened up to get some work done as a means to get ahead of other students. Nerdy as it may be, this is your summer ritual with your best friend, and if you didn’t fulfill it by the beginning of the summer, the guilt is going to eat you alive until you won’t be able to properly enjoy your holiday.

The summer breeze (or lack thereof) feels like it’s burning you alive, so you pull off your usual sweater to reveal a tank top underneath. Huffing out in irritation, you send a quick text to Seungmin.

You: wru

You: why take so long

You: ur so not a gentleman this is why ur single

Instead of an answer, you receive a phone call in return. You pick it up. “Yo, where are you? I’ve been waiting here for fifteen fucking minutes, dude, I’m parched.”

“I brought a friend,” said Seungmin, completely disregarding your complaints. “Look in front of you.”

And there he is, walking towards you with none other than Yang Jeongin beside him, waving at you like a stray puppy. You close your eyes, trying to pretend for as long as possible that none of it is real. This is probably what I get for trying to sabotage someone out of the basketball team, you think to yourself, deciding to surrender to your fate and greet them with as much kindness as you can muster for the time being.

After approximately thirty minutes of sitting down and discussing the next academic year’s syllabus, you decide that that was the last bit of kindness in your heart. So when Jeongin leaves to go to the restroom, you waste no time catching Seungmin up on what you’ve actually been doing. The letter, the operation— everything.

“25 pages?” Seungmin asks you in disbelief. “My god, that’s a thesis.”

“It might as well be, at this point.” You nod solemnly at his comment. There’s no use denying anything; at your core, you’re just pure cruel and sadistic. At the very least you know your best friend will love you regardless, even if nobody else will.

“Listen, I love you, truly I do. But you’ve got to stop,” Seungmin grabs your shoulders and looks you dead in the eye. He has never looked this serious before and meant it. “He’s, like, falling in love with you.”

“Pardon me?”

“I know, I know, it’s your worst nightmare, and I know you don’t like him like that, which is why I’m telling you this. Stop now or you will break his heart even more.”

Just as you were about to respond, Jeongin comes back to the table. If he hadn’t, you’re not sure what you would have had to say. Would you disagree with even the thought of it, telling Seungmin he’s a liar? Would you have argued that if your plan were to work, Jeongin would hate you in the end anyway? Or would you have asked him how to make those feelings grow?

But no, no. He doesn’t like you, not like that. He’s just kind, that’s all. He can’t.

And the next hour passes by like torture, with both boys having to snap you back to the present moment about five times each. You couldn’t care less about the syllabus or the coffee or the new inside jokes you all made that day. All you could think about was how Jeongin’s hand would brush against yours when he borrowed a pencil, or the way his eyes would lock with yours when he laughed at Seungmin’s sarcastic remarks.

The entire time, your mind was calculating the probability of Jeongin actually being in love with you. Each answer was always too close to 1 for your liking.

You couldn’t get him out of your head.

To be fair, you never could. But it used to be about hatred. You used to find joy in boring two-hour classes because you knew you could just spend those two hours daydreaming about what Jeongin would look like with real tears in his eyes, with a scowl on his lips, with anything other than that damned smile.

You told your boss you’d be taking the night shift at Lucy’s for a while, because your days would be spent hanging out with friends on the holidays. This isn’t true at all, of course, you just found it more difficult to escape those Jeongin-plagued thoughts when you were about to drift to slumber. Unfortunately, this didn’t work the way you had hoped, because it turns out the diner basically doesn’t have any customers after 8 PM.

It’s almost 10 PM now, the hour when you’ll have to close up the diner. Nobody has come inside in the last forty-five minutes, so you figure it’s best to close up early. That way, you’ll get more time to scroll on your phone or read a book.

You should have seen it coming, really. You know you could never escape him. There, standing in front of the doors of Lucy’s diner, is your haunting, your shadow, your karmic retribution.

“I keep thinking about you,” he says, almost breathless, as he steps into the diner.

“How long have you been standing there?” “Like, five seconds,” he answers. Then, as if to emphasize his previous statement, he says, “You owe me sleep.”

“You don’t think that goes both ways?” You turn away from him, placing all the cleaning supplies on the bar counter. When you look back, he’s already eagerly striding towards you.

“What are you saying? That you want me?”

“I… I don’t know,” you mutter. You can’t look at him, not right now, not like this. You would break not just his heart, but yours as well. “I don’t know how I feel. I need a… an experiment or an investigation or something that I know is going to tell me if this is actually real, because I have no fucking clue what’s real anymore.”

Without another word, he places both palms on the counter behind you, trapping your body between his, and kisses you.

It knocks the breath right out of your soul. Every vessel in your brain is screaming at you, reminding you that it’s wrong and he’s not supposed to like you and you’re not supposed to like him back and that you sure as hell shouldn’t be kissing him at all, let alone your workplace.

Nevertheless, you can’t help it. Everything you knew has been proven wrong. Everything you have questioned has proven themselves to be true. You know nothing at all. You kiss him back.

Acknowledging your reciprocation, he lifts a hand to cradle your face, gently brushing his thumb over your cheekbone down to your jaw. He takes a step closer, pressing your body flush against his. You haven’t closed the diner; somebody could walk in at any moment.

Running your fingers through his soft locks, he takes the opportunity to trail his lips to your neck. It’s at this moment that you begin to feel everything, and it’s all too real too quick. You push him away, taking one brief glance at his disheveled hair and swollen, rose-tinted lips.

You know you shouldn’t. You know you’re being a coward. You know the answer.

Be that as it may, you still run.

seungmo: Bball game @ school tonight

seungmo: Idk what happened w u and jeongin but pls come to the game

seungmo: U know how much ive been looking forward to this

seungmo: I'll keep him away, i promise

You shouldn’t have gone. You should have stayed home, rotting in your room for yet another night, catching up on all the studying you missed out on when you went to that coffee shop with Seungmin, finding yourself tracing the shape of your lips when you’re deep in thought, recalling the way Jeongin’s felt on yours.

The truth is, you do know how much Seungmin has been looking forward to this match. He had realized long ago that you couldn’t care less about sports, but still he found your face amongst the crowd every single time. Even though you had such a deep scowl it made him chuckle every time he saw you, he felt his chest warm with affection at the act of being present.

This is one of those unconditional, unspoken rules you’ve established in your friendship. You would support him, and he would support you. You couldn’t have ditched this.

But as you approach closer and closer to the basketball court, you notice something amiss. By now, you should have been able to hear the rowdy chanting of other students. You should have already been blinded by the lights surrounding the court, considering it’s already 6 PM. You should have seen Seungmin waiting for you, but he’s not there.

Nothing’s there. Nothing but Yang Jeongin, standing in the middle of the court.

“I’m starting to think Seungmin is playing matchmaker,” you say as you walk towards him.

His face cracks into a fit of laughter, and it lights up the whole area. “You think?”

You’re close enough to him to see how puffy his eyes are— is he just exhausted or has he been crying? He’s silent for a second, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, before opening his mouth to finally speak.

“Listen, I—”

“No, no,” you interrupt him. “Let me speak first.”

“I used to despise you, as you already know. For a reason that is so stupid that if I said it out loud right now I’d pee myself laughing, probably. And I guess that hatred helped me cover up my insecurities, and that I couldn’t believe someone like me and someone like you could be with anything more than enemies.” At some point, you started looking into his eyes, and now you can’t seem to pull away. “You’re not boring, Yang Jeongin, not at all. You’re certain. You’re my probability of 1.”

“So… Moral of the story, I’m different from all the other boys, yes?” He teases, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer inch by inch.

“You think that’s the moral of the story?” “Hell, no,” he chuckles. “The moral of the story is that sometimes you need to ditch that whole superiority complex and realize that you’re exactly like everybody else. You’re smart, yes, but you’re also stupid and naive and clumsy. And that’s completely alright. That doesn’t make you any less deserving of anything, it just makes you human.”

And as he tugs you into a kiss, you realize he’s right. It doesn’t matter what you know. Life is still uncertain, anyway, and the probabilities of most things are far less than 1. All you know is that whatever happens, you’ll be loved in the process.

“Y/n do you want to talk to him?”

~ You’re just so pretty. ~

[Han Jisung x Fem!Reader]

scene: everyone seems to be attracted to jisung, shamelessly throwing themselves at him despite the fact that you two are a couple

genre: angst with comfort😔🫶🏼💪🏼

warning: swearing, jealous reader, mentions of body insecurities, two day ghosting

note: (non!idol au, university au) so I think this is so scattered because my thoughts are all over the place but I will get to editing it later tonight. go through contacts are basically the people in your contacts who can bypass the ‘do not disturb’ and have notifs of their chats despite dnd being on.

Masterlist

They aren’t even trying to hide it anymore, they love your boyfriend. And your boyfriend couldn’t care less.

The girl is practically throwing herself at him, her finger twirling her blonde hair while the other squeezes his biceps. She’s so close to him she might as well be the air he breathes.

Jisung on the other hand, doesn’t do anything. He laughs at her attempt to flatter him, compliments about his muscles, his face, his whole fucking being. He is beyond amused at how these girls try to be his.

He smiles at the sight of you, ignoring the murderous look you have for the scene in front of you. “Baby! You’re back, finally.” He beams excitedly, like a squirrel with an acorn.

You smile back, glancing at the girl who still has her hand on your boyfriend. She rolls her eyes, trotting back to her friends. You finally feel the air become light again.

“Hi sweetheart, what were you doing?” You ask, sitting on his lap.

His hands instinctively hold you close, one wraps around you waist the other on your thigh. “Was gonna study but these girls kind of pushed their friend on me, I’m so glad you’re here now.” Your boyfriend explains, before kissing you on the cheek. “Are you ready for finals?” He queries, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

~•~

The finals are a day away and you can’t rest, overwhelmed by the thought of your boyfriend cheating on you. You don’t think he would do that, you trust him. But, he’s just so pretty. Girls naturally flock around him like birds to bread.

Why did he choose you? When there are much prettier, skinnier, paler, taller girls than you.

The (toxic) girls around you can tell you’re nothing but garbage compared to them, they know it well, so well that they hit on Jisung even when you’re together. Shamelessly accidentally tripping and making him help them, and his kind heart actually leaving your side to help the fallen lady.

Just a few minutes ago, you were happily chatting with him when a girl about 5 inches taller than you, brunette, and more fit than you are approached him. You thought it would be like the others, he’d say thank you to the compliments and go back to you.

But instead, you have to witness him fawn over this woman you don’t even know. He doesn’t even bother introduce the two of you.

“So how have you been?” Her squeaky voice just annoying you, drilling into your head how everyone is so much more feminine than you.

And you will never be good enough for Jisung.

“I’ve been good!” He returns the same enthusiasm she has, not bothered by her finger tracing shit on his chest.

“Jisung-“

“Hold on, baby. I’m talking to someone.” He cuts you off, not even sparing you a glance. He just continues to flirt with this woman as if you aren’t there.

Well alright, you’ll just make it reality.

You pick up your things, placing it all in you bag then standing up to leave the cafeteria. The place is buzzing loudly in your ear, not helping the hate thoughts consuming you.

When you find a secluded place in the study hall, you settle down. Your bag dropping beside you.

You plug your earphones in, turning the volume up so it’s the only thing you can hear.

~•~

It’s been 2 days since the brunette incident and you’ve been trying your best to avoid Jisung. Not wanting to talk or hear his voice again. Even going to the extent of muting his texts and taking him off your ‘go through’ contacts.

Those two days have been the most peaceful ones since you got into a relationship 5 years ago. No noisy fangirls or fanboys, not a cellphone pinging with notifications. Just silence and rest.

You got through the finals, confident you would pass them with flying colors.

You admire the setting sun, the waves giving you wonderful white noise and it almost sounds like Jisung and his friend?

“You know I’m happy for you.” His friend exclaims, when he notices Jisung’s confused face he mentions you. “I never really liked Y/n, seemed controlling and shit. Besides, Chae-eun is hotter.” He chides, kicking a rock in the way.

You frown angrily, quietly standing up from your spot on the sand. You don’t want to hear Jisung’s reply, it’s not worth the heartbreak you haven’t prepared yourself for.

“Shit, bro is that Y/n?” He gulps, afraid you’ve heard him.

You start walking faster, almost running at that point. You’re so far that you don’t hear Jisung disapproving his friend’s remarks about you, quipping about how perfect you are.

~•~

*tuk tuk tuk*

The sound of knocking from your front door resonating to the kitchen where you’re cooking. “Minho? Did you lose your key?” You shout, rushing to the door not caring to peek in the peephole. “Minho-“

“Y/n, please let me explain.” Jisung pleads, visibly tired and worn out. The two days having the opposite effect on him than what it did to you.

He opens his mouth but is interrupted by Minho, your best friend’s hand on you boyfriend’s shoulder in a warning manner. “Y/n, do you want to talk to him?” Minho questions, giving you a comforting nod, as if to say I’ll kick his ass if you don’t want to.

“Yeah, I do. Thanks, Min. You can go inside.” You opened the door wider and he brushes past your boyfriend.

Jisung sighs in relief, and you walk with him to the park where he explains everything. Chae-eun being a childhood bestfriend from his hometown (but he’ll distance himself if you want him to), the boy who insulted you being scolded by Jisung, and him constantly reassuring you between his explanations that you are the only one for him.

“I promise, Y/n. You are the most perfect girl I’ve ever met. You are mine and I intend to keep it that way, you and only you.” He clarifies, tilting your head to look at him. “I’m sorry for pushing you away and making you jealous. I don’t do it on purpose.” He continues, giving you comforting squeezes to the hand.

You start to tear up, relived you’ve finally talked it out. “You’re just so pretty.” You murmur, “everyone who looks at you falls in love.” you blubber.

Despite all your insecurities he stays with you and reassures you with never ending patience.

After calming down you two walk back to your apartment where Minho is fast asleep like a cat on the couch, the table is full of food and your favorite show is paused on the tv.

You smile, waking him up and beckoning him to eat.

The night ending your two day long span of not talking to your beloved.

Find all my works under #skzwife-02

꧁Masterlist꧂

Its finally here!!! Tumblr finally stopped hating me!!!

Key-

☻ - fluff

⚡︎ - smut

♫ - angst

ꨄ - other

Pjo 💙⚡️

Secret gardens in my mind ☻

𓆜𓆝𓆜𓆝Percy finds a lonely child of Persephone and decides to work his seaweed charm𓆜𓆝𓆜𓆝

But daddy I love him! ☻

—Dionysus!reader and Percy have a thing and did it for the first time. Let just say that her dad didn't like it very much...

Would you still love me if I was a worm?☻♫

— in which reader has to deal with homewrecker allegations, but Percy is there to comfort her.

COMING SOON!

I am still working on this but here’s the first part of it :P

💙STRAY KIDS💙

BANGCHAN

(Pt1) (Pt 2)

wait, what? Oh, okay. — You’re joking, right?

(Alternate ending)

You’re joking, right…?

Alternate universe to “Wait, What?”

Bangchan x reader

Angst

——————————————————————————

I looked down at the pregnancy test, anxiety filled my head as I read what it foretold.

Positive.

My eyes watered like I hadn’t blinked for years, as if they were exhaling emotion in the form of tears.

I panicked. What’s would Chris think? What would we do with the baby? What would this do to his career?

So, I called his best friend— our best friend. Felix.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?” He said as he answered the call almost instantly.

“I-I’m….i…” I could barely speak, my whole being was shaky and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I’m pregnant.”

I could almost feel his shock through the phone.

“It’s Chans?”

“Who else’s would it be…?”

“Just making sure,” He said, inhaling. “Does he know?”

“No,” I whispered into the phone.

“Please tell him,” Felix said, “he has to know as soon as possible.”

“Okay…” I said shakily, hanging up. Just then, the front door opened to the apartment. “Baby, I’m home!” Chan called from the kitchen.

I stepped out of the bathroom, wiping my face. “Hey, everything alright?” He asked, hugging me.

“There isn’t anyways to easily say this….but I’m pregnant.” I said softly, looking into his eyes. The eyes I fell in love with. The eyes that I wanted to remember for the rest of my years.

Bangchan pulled away and exhaled. “You’re joking, right?” He asked cautiously.

“I’m not…” I whispered.

“Baby, I love you…but we can’t…we can’t have a baby yet. My career…I can’t do both. It would be too much.”

“This isn’t just an idea…it’s reality. And- and you can’t ask me to abort them…I can’t do that…” I said, the tears I tried so desperately to hold back finally racing down my face like it was a game of who could make it to the collar of my shirt first.

“Then…then I’m sorry but we can’t be together.”Bangchan said, looking anywhere except my eyes.

“Chris, you’re being ridiculous. It’s not a crime to-”

“I know it’s not a crime! I know! But I have to focus on my career, on the kids, on the fans…”

“I…understand.”

“I’ll pay for child support, but no one can know about the baby. Just…we have to play it off as just a break up.

“And he kept that promise, he payed child support, and he even helped me out sometimes if he had an hour or two to spare. I obviously didn’t- couldn’t move on. We stayed friends. But I was obviously hurt. He knew that. So he stayed close, we even tried it in secret again. But it didn’t work. That’s why you only see him on sundays…”

I looked up, my vision blurred by my tears as I looked at my 16 year old daughter. “That’s why your father is barely around, Umi.”

She didn’t say anything, hugging me as we stood there, the window fogging from the humidity of the rain, the clouds painted the once blue sky into a swirling gray canvas, the rain droplets drowning the earth in their existence.

haiii i’m k1tty!! i don’t rlly post things but i do repost fics or js random things and such! /\^3^/\

i mainly reblog kpop and anime things ^^ <3

🥹💔💔💔

it's the little things for me

chan: folding the laundry as he admires you while you scream to lady gaga on a friday night, cleaning your spectacles/ sun glasses for you, feeding you with his own chopsticks, making sure you're on the opposite side of the traffic while crossing the street, taking strands of hair out of your mouth when you're asleep, making sure he always has time for you, rocking you in his arms while you cry, sharing the tiniest of umbrellas even if you BOTH get wet in the process, silently wiping sauce off your face while you ramble on about the latest gossip at work/uni, sends flowers to your place on random days, saying he loves you more than he loves the ocean. lee know: wearing even the most cringe frilly pink aprons you'll get him which stay stuff like 'kiss the cook' or 'mr. good lookin is cookin', learning how to make all your comfort foods, buying you stuffed toys resembling your childhood pets, always making you taste test the food he's cooking, "do you want it to be spicier? it'll help with the cold.", oiling and massaging your hair on sunday mornings, talking to you like he does with his cats whenever you're sick, screeching to songs in the car, buying stupid matching sunglasses, sharpening your pencils for you, leaving sooni, doongi and dori at his parents' claiming you spend more time with them than him, cracking your fingers when he's bored.

changbin: washing your dishes no matter how much you insist you can do it, keeping in touch with your family once you introduce them to him, giving you piggy back rides, letting you make stupidly cute hairstyles with his hair, sleeping with your stuffed toys when you're not at home, always packing your favourite toothpaste because he knows how much you despise the hotel ones, letting you win at arm wrestling, racing with you to the nearby convenience store.

hyunjin: learning your drink orders for different moods and seasons, slipping little encouraging notes with the cutest doodles into your bag, jacket pockets, underwear pile, EVERYWHERE, clicking lots of candid polaroids of you, always keeping a lipbalm in his pocket for you, making a list of places you want to visit and taking you on surprise trips, rubbing your noses together, drawing on your arms while you watch a movie, listening to you rant about your passions all. night. long.

jisung: always wanting you to share new music you like with him, buying you guys matching fluffy house slippers with the most bizarre stuff like cheese puffs or flamingos on them, decorating your shared space with childhood photos of you, singing karaoke with you until 4 am, watching panda and hamster videos together, singing you awake every morning, playing careless whisper as a way of asking you to dance with him, binging studio ghibli movies with you on days off, afternoon naps, watching fireflies together, weird nicknames like 'cake batter eater' or 'hairbrush stealer', rewatching childhood cartoons, doubling over in laughter one second and having the most serious conversations the next, "would you still love me if i was a worm?"

felix: reporting accounts which abuse skzoo >:(, always stocking up on your favourite snacks, letting you tease him over his small hands, giving you the best massages after long days, whispering and quiet laughing in silent spaces, biting your shoulder whenever you expose him in front of the boys, showing off his latest dance moves while dusting the house, giggling and rolling around in fresh sheets you just finished putting on, being your personal heater during the winters, miserably gardening together, smiling in between kisses.

seungmin: learning small phrases in your mother tongue and making sure his pronunciation is on spot, wearing animal onesies together, waking you up with your favourite cup of coffee every morning, giving you head scratches when you can't sleep, cuddling together on a rocking chair, fighting over who pays for the bill, going to fancy stores and trying out clothes only to leave without buying anything, always finding you first whenever there's a blackout, going to the local adoption center and cooing at puppies together, tracing your features while you sleep, a quick forehead kiss before he rushes to work, replacing photocards you have of other members with his own.

jeongin: "mentioned you in their story", staying on call with you when you're taking a cab at night, wearing normal shoes when he goes out with you, eating caramel popcorn at 2 am, getting on a subway and going to the nearby town because you heard it's raining there and needed a reason to dance together, laying his head on your lap while reading manga, wearing fuzzy socks, trying out stupid tiktok couple trends, pretending to be a toxic couple while grocery shopping,

Operation Miroh

trigger warnings: none

written + edited by: 🥺

pairings: hwang hyunjin x oc

summary: A string of murders lead Detective Yang Nami down the winding streets of Seoul’s maze district, searching for the Vampire Slayer. But what happens when her digging leads her far closer to home than she could have ever thought? What happens when it’s someone she’s supposed to trust?

Prologue

There are lots of rules when it comes to vampires.

First, they must be invited into a house before they can enter. I'm not entirely sure why--they aren't usually portrayed as the most polite of people, not when they're plunging their fangs into your neck and sucking you dry. But it's a rule, and they have to abide by it.

Second, they must avoid certain things such as sunlight, garlic and anything remotely holy. Supposedly, it's because they're devil incarnates and anything too potent or bright or religious can harm them. I just think it's because they have weird allergies. Kind of like how I'm allergic to oranges, which is really inconvenient because they look like they taste good. It sucks.

Finally--not that it's the last rule, but it's the final most obvious one--they can only be killed by certain methods. Some of these include the use of silver, fire (they're insanely flammable), decapitation and a stake to the heart--the most famous and popularly used of them all.

All of this is purely hypothetical, of course. Just myths formulated by people with better things to do than tell stories of bloodsuckers and the threats they pose to us poor, helpless prey.

At least, that's what I thought.

I had read enough stories and watched enough movies to know the basic rules about vampires, but not enough to blindly believe my boss when he told me they're real.

"You're kidding, right?"

He's kidding. He has to be. Maybe he's crazy, or maybe this is a prank.

I searched Captain Park's face for signs of amusement or maybe some sort of twitch--a crack in his demeanor to tell me that he wasn't being serious. His face remained completely flat.

I glanced around the room for cameras, wondering if I was on some kind of prank show, or that one TV program What Would You Do?. It would have been a really shit prank, because I was definitely not buying it, but you never know. Maybe they'd run out of ideas. I might have been payed more for not falling for something so stupid.

The same security camera that had been in the office since I began working there blinked back at me, red light flashing. I'd seen security footage from it before--for a security camera at a literal police station, you'd think that it'd have better resolution. Apparently not.

Which meant it wasn't a prank show, at least not one that valued it's camera quality. Which meant my boss was crazy.

He stared at me silently, not bothering to answer my question. Yep, definitely crazy.

"I'm serious, Detective Yang." He did look serious. Since when did he start taking acting classes? I thought. I mean, I took drama for 3 years and even I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face after spilling that level of bullshit.

"So you're telling me," I said, picking at my finger nails, "That not only there's been a series of killings around this area, but that they're all down to Vampires."

"A Vampire. And yes, we don't know for sure, but that's what it looks like."

"And what evidence do you have that it's a-" I waved my hands around in the air, as if summoning some common sense for the man. "-An actual Vampire and not just, I don't know, a regular serial killer. Which would be so much easier to deal with."

He clasped his calloused hands together and leaned back in his chair. He had an air of distaste surrounding him as if I was the one who was speaking crazy, but maybe that was because he always looked like he'd just smelled something revolting. Wrinkled skin scrunched up unlike the smooth sheets of paper stacked on his desk; lips pursed as if he'd sucked on a lemon for four hours; small, black eyes squinted despite the large, square glasses balanced on his nose. He had a habit of looking down on people even though he was 5'6 at most. Most people would describe him as intimidating but, to be fair, most people hadn't been told by him that Vampires exist.

"I understand your disbelief." Yeah, no shit. "I, too, was skeptical at first. But the evidence I've been shown convinced me that this is no joke. I know you like to believe that we humans know everything about our world, but the truth is that we simply cannot. You're going to look into this case whether you believe it or not."

Fighting to ward off the compelling urge to sigh and tell him again how stupid this is, I nodded curtly. "So I just have to find this..." God, I can't believe this is actually happening. "...Vampire. And bring them in."

A failed attempt at a smile passed over his stern features. He must have thought he'd won. "Precisely. I'm glad you're picking up on this."

"Can I think about it over the weekend and get back to you?"

I definitely would not think about it and I definitely would get back to him--to tell him that I was absolutely not doing it.

But of course, the universe seemed to be against me all of a sudden. Or maybe it was just him. "No, you can not," he stated plainly. "I've given you this case and you must take it. It's that simple."

"But Sir, there are loads of other Detectives who can do this job. I'm sure there are more... believable cases you can give me," I argued, trying my hardest not to sound in control and totally not like I was pleading him.

He leaned forward and his chair whined under his weight. "You're right." Wait, really? "There are plenty of other Detectives who can do this job and do it far better than you can. However, I am asking you to do this, and like the fair and just man I am-" (I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes at that one and, instead, just stared at the side of his desk). "-I will give you a choice: You do this case or you're out."

"Hold on," I began, gaze snapping up from the corner of his desk to those hard, black eyes, "I'm out as in... fired? For real?"

He nodded nonchalantly, not a word slipping past his thin lips. You have to be kidding me.

"That's ridiculous. This entire thing is ridiculous."

"I'm giving you a choice. Make it." He shrugged.

It wasn't really a choice, just the illusion of one. I'd worked under this man for two years by that point. He knew how much I loved that job and all that it meant to me. He knew how much I threw into it. He knew everything I'd given up to be there. And now I had to choose between discrediting my career with a Vampire hunt or losing it altogether. Options, options, options.

"You know what my answer is already."

The corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk. "I do." He reached for a pencil with a sharpened, pointy edge and twirled it around his fingers. "But I want to hear it from you."

God, I hate this man. Trying to hide my seething rage, I gritted my teeth and swallowed. "I'll take the case."

He barely reacted, just continued to play with the pencil. That doesn't mean I didn't notice the triumphant, cocky glint in his eye, though. "You are more like me than you think, Nami."

I looked at him curiously. That couldn't possibly be true. The only similarity that we shared is both working there, and we didn't even do the same job. So yeah, apart from the massive age gap, gender difference and literally everything else about us, we were totally the same.

"How so?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer or not.

"We're both intelligent, dedicated, hard-working." And not the slightest bit modest, clearly. "And like me, you know your place in this world and you will stubbornly defend it." He dropped the pencil onto the desk and it landed with a muffled clatter, then rolled until it hit a framed photograph of him with who I could only assume were his wife and two children. It reminded me that there must have been some remnants of a kind, young man beneath his cold, commanding demeanor--in the worst way possible, though.

He reached over to pick up a file and flicked through it until he settled on a page. I watched as his eyes scanned the paper. Just as I thought he was about to provide me with some tangible evidence of the wild claims he'd made that meeting, he spoke; "You are dismissed."

I found myself glued to my seat, my limbs weighing me down like anchors. "That's it? Are you not giving me a file on this?"

He glanced up from what he was reading for a brief second before continuing. "I'll email the main pieces of evidence to you digitally. You will be given a file tomorrow morning, once all of the necessary data has been compiled."

I didn't reply. Was I supposed to leave just like that? This man had told me that he thought the serial killer rampaging our region was a Vampire and that he was willing to fire me if I didn't take the case, all in the span of 30 minutes. And I was supposed to just soak in all that information with barely an ounce of explanation or evidence? Apparently so.

Hesitantly, I stood from my chair. A searing pain shot through my back, reminding me that I'd been sitting in a wooden chair for the past half an hour.

Captain Park regarded me for a second as I crossed the room. Hand on the doorknob, I faltered, waiting for him to say something, and when he didn't, I left the room, shutting the door behind me as gently as possible--despite the desire to slam it in frustration.

It was almost dark by the time I got home. The cerulean blue sky was stained with bright white dots, and the streets were bathed in the orange, artificial glow of the streetlights. With flushed cheeks, a running nose and icy hands, I fumbled with my keys until my apartment door unlocked, making a mental note to take a scarf or gloves in to work the next day.

I had stayed later than usual that night, finishing off any write-ups and looking through evidence relevant to a few other cases. After the meeting, I hadn't seen the Captain around, but that was for the best. I might not have been able to control my instincts for much longer.

Warmth swept through my body as I stepped in to the living room. I discarded my satchel on the floor and shrugged off my coat, folding it over the back of the couch. It was unusually empty and unusually quiet. Just as I went to search the apartment, a voice sounded from behind me.

"You're home late."

I whirled around to see Soyeon, leaning against the threshold where the living room and kitchen met. Her blonde bob was pulled into a short ponytail, revealing her pointed chin and signature smirk.

"I texted you," I said.

She retrieved her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen, the blue light illuminating her face. "Oh, you did. Sorry, I didn't see. My phone is being weird at the moment."

"You gonna get it fixed?"

"Eventually."

I rounded the couch and plopped onto it, the cushions sinking beneath my weight. "Where's Jeongin?"

"In bed," she answered, following suit, "I think he has a cold."

"You should have told me, I would've brought some soup."

She waved her phone in the air as a reminder. "Again, dodgy phone. And it's alright, I got some anyway."

"Stupid school kids," I grumbled. I sighed and sunk further into the couch. Soyeon glanced over at me, concern gracing her features. "Bad day?"

I chuckled humourlessly. "Weird day."

"Not allowed to talk about it?"

I faced her and nodded. She repeated the action without a word of protest. It was different at first; Soyeon was always so eager to be involved in every part of my life, and when I told her that I couldn't disclose information about the cases I was working on for legal reasons, she got upset. But after a while, she understood that it was out of my control.

Instead, she extended an arm out to me. I shuffled closer and pressed myself into her side, inhaling her familiar scent of acrylic paint and chai tea.

"You must be tired," she mumbled.

I hummed in response, unable to muster up the energy to force words out. Her head leaned on mine, the way it always used to, except this time was an act of friendship rather than romance.

With every passing moment, my body grew weaker and my eyelids heavier, and after a while, I was unable to resist the tempting call of sleep.

hey y'all! in lieu of us posting our first part of Operation Miroh, i wanted to let you know that i also posted the first chapter of my own skz fanfic on ao3

i'd really appreciate it if you check it out!

all the love,

hattie 🥺 <3

Planning a date with Chan