The Pianist

hi. i just read about the situation in Sheikh Jarrah, and what's happening there is inhumane, please spread awareness about what is currently happening in palestine! families are being violently evicted from their homes and everyone can try and help by spreading the info!

min yoongi

smaus

shut up

two closed off people fall for each other, no one would of seen this coming

do it again @kimnjss | a s

months after deciding to end their three year long relationship, a sex tape hits the internet. fans go wild speculating that rap star, min yoongi and aspiring model, yn are the stars. old feelings arise as the couple try to figure out a way out of this.

thinking of you @smaubts | c

yoongi and y/n hate each other, at least that's what they tell everyone. when unexpected events occur they begin to realise that maybe the real cause for all the hate is because it's a way to hide the feelings they won't admit.

bluebird @firebettercallnct | a f c

trying to suppress your feelings for someone is hard but it's even harder when they're seemingly happy with someone else.

or in which he's a sunset and she's a bluebird.

good bad choices @bangtanloverboys | f

girls like you aren't normally seen with guys like him, but he's nothing like what you think

t.l.h.c. (the lonely hearts club) @cinnaminsvga | c f a

social media au where y/n and yoongi are mutuals but they're constantly at each other's throats for reasons unknown (aka emotional constipation)

the duff @sillyseoks | f

After years of pining after the shy boy, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi takes pity upon y/n and with his dropping grades, he enlists her to help him raise them. In return, he’ll “deduff” her and get the younger boy to fall in love with her. But that was certainly easier said than done, especially with unrequited loves, crackhead groupchats, bff drama, and homework in the mix.

call me baby @smaubts

in which yoongi accidentally tells his ex he's dating y/n, his sworn enemy, which leads to him and his friends to create a plan envolving his sworn enemy y/n and fake dating her. a very platonic and fake relationship turns awkward when unexpected feelings arise.

daylight @maravillamin | a f

life gets a little more complicated when your son befriends a kid whose father seems to hate your guts

maybe this time @minbbyy

Stealing songs, and marketing them as your own is the worst thing you could do being in the music industry. You’re fake, lazy, unprofessional, a thief, and a liar. Being accused of something so serious, y/n didn't know what to do. Y/N thought she could rely on her best friends but they turned their backs on her. With no evidence in her favor, she ran. Now a year later, she’s ready to live the life that she lost and clear her name. Will she be able to handle facing those who betrayed her? Will she be able to trust them again after everything they did to her? Maybe this time, she’ll gain back the friendships and love that she lost. Maybe this time, she’ll find a new love to carry her through her hurt and pain.

now you see me @minsugapie | f a

You’re a content creator that is wanting to change up your brand a little bit.

Yoongi is a faceless musician. Well, he’s two people at once. He’s the faceless Agust D online and while performing, but he’s Min Yoongi in real life.

Who will he be to you?

epiphany @hxneysuga | f a

unlikely alliance @bts-celestials

yoongi helps you get the boy of your dreams and you help him get the girl of his dreams, it’s a win-win situation!

spoiled milk @adorajoon

an au in which you join an app that assigns you to groupchats randomly

fake love @cafevantae | a c

in which you go from single to ‘engaged’ overnight, all because you don’t want to show up to your ex-boyfriend’s wedding alone

second chance

After Yoongi got his heart broken by his first love ever, he decided to leave and live a little adventure.

broken hearts club @bbangpanmen | f a

“in those 13 years... where was i?”

best friends to lovers au except you’re not the best friend

also

what happens to the one who gets left behind?

loser baby @dejayoonw | f a c s

Schola Veneficas, a college for witches where everyone seems to know who you are which is weird considering you don’t really know much about your family history. When the cute fifth year takes pity on you it makes the unexpected hostility a little more bareable, at least for a little while.

more @dejayoonw | a f

recently divorced & looking for a new producer you’re inroduced to the seemingly stoic and hardworking min yoongi. at first it seems like he hates you but slowly he begins to warm up, showing you who he really is. how could you not fall for the caring, talented and amazingly devoted father?

your voice @burningupp

at night, yoongi tends to frequent cafés to get some work done. one night, he hears you sing, and his world is forever changed.

series

skin deep @aquaminwrites | a s

fluff

love grows where you go. @hueseok | 11.4k ; a f s

determined to make you and yoongi grow closer for your upcoming wedding in two weeks, your parents plan a trip for the both of you that lasts five days long. you know you should be ecstatic about it, considering your longtime crush on your fiancé, but by how you're positive that he secretly despises your whole being, you don't find this mini vacation with him something to look forward to. that is until things take an unexpected turn and suddenly, he makes it apparent he doesn’t hate you at all as you reckoned.

yoongi doesn't romance @jamaiskookie | 6.6k ; c f

yoongi isn't great at expressing feelings- especially with how nervous he gets around you. alternatively titled: yoongi sucks at romance

the way to your heart @joonary | 9k

when your office christmas party’s secret santa gives you absolutely no context on what kind of gift he wants, you have no choice but to get to know him better.

cream & suga @snackhobi | 14.8k ; f s

yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.

the third & sixth @jimlingss | 7.9k

One. Two. Three. Fantastic things come in threes, that includes you and your two best friends. But when they start dating each other, you quickly come to realize that you’ve become the infamous. third. wheel. Left out — invading their date — forced to watch them canoodle — an unnecessary extension to the group. It only worsens when you upgrade into the fifth wheel.....until a special sixth comes along.

wondering about holding min yoongi's hands @bangtanloverboys | 1.5k

you defintely don't have a hand kink but min yoongi's hands are something else

mixtape @jungblue | 15.6k ; s f

Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods... One of them being oh so tempting.

yoongi as your bf @bangtansfavwriter

stuck with you @retrievablememories | 3.3k

“Can you do a idol!Min Yoongi of BTS request of his crush being best friends with Jimin and Taehyung and him and his crush consistently fluster the other but they never realize until one day he does and finally make as move despite everyone telling them for weeks that they like each other?”

[01:26 am] @wtf-yoongi

an out of bounds umbrella @bubmyg | 10.2k

you’re apologetic about almost blinding your university’s star point guard with the broken tip of your umbrella until you share a class with him and find out he’s a three star recruit but a four star dick or min yoongi doesn’t find your high school musical puns amusing.

yoongi as your boyfriend @xpeachesncream

a night in the studio @elliescrolls | 0.8k

nights in the studio are the best.

maybe i love you, maybe you love me @jinpanman | 2.9k

It’s something you’ve known since you were five and it’s only grown stronger as the decades passed.

tts drabble 7: the first "baby talk" @ubemango

smut

moonlight. @atdawnsuga | 3.6k

Your boyfriend drags you to a work event. Feeling bored and aroused by thoughts of him, you slip away and enjoy some privacy with him.

the devil in the details @foreignfingers | 6.5k

Your roommate is a disembodied voice, full of sarcasm and utter contempt for mankind. And when it comes to you? He might be willing to jump through a few hoops, or bodies, just to make you scream.

beg for it. @atdawnsuga | 3.9k

Yoongi fucks you up so you decide to shamelessly torture him.

rogue. @junghelioseok | 3.9k

a night out leads you to exactly where you want to be

strike a chord @snackhobi | 15.8k

your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.

damn the charcuterie board. @bratkook

meteor @whatifyoulivelikethat

Ah, university. A time to get drunk, get laid, and get an education. Not so for Min Yoongi however (not even the education part, smh). He was dragged along to parties because of the insistence of his friends (despite having fun anyway, what a grump). Until a meteor crashes into his atmosphere, in the form of a picture he didn’t remember taking, and then Yoongi’s life becomes a whole lot more interesting.

muse @another-army-spot | 4k ; f s

When your boyfriend cancels on his own birthday dinner to finish work instead, you decide to pay him a visit to his studio so he won’t be so lonely.  There, you can at least make sure he’s taken care of properly.

sinning hands @moonlightchildz

want a taste? @suga-kookiemonster | 18.3k

pretzel pro. most skillful tongue in the food court world. allegedly. that’s what yoongi keeps telling you, anyway. of course, you’re reasonably skeptical of his claims—but if there’s one thing that motivates the notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong.

gym rat @mingoyeob-archive | 5k

you told everyone you were spending more time at the gym in an effort to turn your life around. in reality you were going just to sneak glimpses at one of the regulars who, for some reason, always looked like he hated being there. that didn’t seem to stop him from bending you over the bench in the gym locker room though. inspired by yoongi’s new gym bod that’s suits him a little too well.

uncharted territory @satnin-darling

It started off with two. And then, there was a possibility of three. You thought that Jungkook was only meant to be for one night only, mostly because Yoongi was parading his fiancé around and that irked you more than you cared to admit. Yet, Jungkook asserted himself more often, and you let him, not forgetting Yoongi of course. Turns out you had nothing to worry about since they are more than happy to accommodate.

the dark. @bratkook | 18k

your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

trick or treat. @satnin-darling | 5.9k

The Joker, a Gray Pianist, and an Action-taker were supposed to walk into a bar on Halloween. Turns out they don't even make it past the front door because they were too busy fucking each other to partake in this year’s spooky season 🎃😜

rule of three @satnin-darling | 10.6k

In the parameters of writing, the “rule of three” is based on the principle that things that come in threes are inherently more satisfying or more effective than any other number. You and Yoongi can't help but notice Jungkook's persistent fascination, so why not indulge? Anyhow, there's nothing wrong with testing out a tried and true principle in the presence of an eager participant 😉

tesselation | 2.4k ; s f

Yoongi loves being your good boy

aftermath | 2k

after PTD LA D-1 , Jungkook comes back to you absolutely being wrecked by RM and Yoongi becuase he asked them to. Then he takes over.

monster for rent @yoonjinkooked | 20.6k ; s c

With your emotions riding high after a draining break-up, you can finally taste freedom after what felt like a prison you willingly signed up for. After a much needed night out with your friends, the word inhibition is erased out of your vocab. High on both adrenaline and liberation, you don’t even pause to think before you make your next move - and just for one night, you decide to go for a different kind of monster. 

something out of my dreams | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x dionysus!reader

request: could you possibly write a luke x daughter of dionysus please? maybe she’s like super nice and when percy gets to camp she becomes like an older sister and luke is super whipped for her? @elz-zalarrr

IN WHICH — all he knows is that you were something out of his dreams.

"trust him like a brother, yeah, you know i did one thing right. starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night" - t.s.

w.c. 1.8k

warning(s) : cheesiness ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note okay i've begun to realize that low-key i feel like i write in cursive if that makes sense? if a feeling could describe it i'd say its like using poetry to write? that's likely not any better lol :)

there was but one person that everyone could agree they adored at camp half blood.

it didn't matter what grudge who had with whom or what ancient rivalries transcended the ideals of reality, everyone loved you. not the typical type of brittle love that crumbled at the slightest of touches, but pure adoration that endured the sands of time.

you with the gentle soul, who healed others with each laugh and smile. when new half-godlings were brought to camp, you made sure to comfort them and make them understand that they belonged here and would find a home whether they wanted to or not. you made sure that no birthday was forgotten, no deed undone.

children of minor gods or elders, of Ares or Aphrodite, you became an older sister to all who needed you. you, the daughter of fertility and chaos, the god dionysius.

there was no debate that at camp half blood there was only a before you and an after you. you were like that high right before the free fall–invincibility and smoke and curiosity wrapped into the form of a demi-god. you were the gentle breeze during summer nights when the heat became too much. and none ached more to feel it than luke castellan, who had been burning for as long as he knew.

your relationship in itself was tentative, you danced around your feelings–scared one wrong touch or word would break the shaky, fine line that lay between you two. but you could not hide the way you loved the other to yourselves nor the children of the beings of divine blood. 

luke castellan loved you like the stars would fall out of the sky with one harsh touch, free and incandescently self-destructive. like you were a wild, wonderful thing out of a fantasy.

you loved him like there was no hell or heaven but the cosmos that lay in his eyes and the worlds that lay in his soul. something so sacred and rare. a love so true and mortal it put all the greek tragedies to shame. 

you knew that whatever you and him were made of, in every lifetime or the next you two were made for each other. 

loving luke castellan would be both your redemption and destruction in the making, your elysium for whatever good thing you had done in your previous life. 

✩ ‧₊˚

you first met percy jackson when he came to camp, he was a scared little thing who had just lost his mother when the veil between reality and deception flickered. everything he’d known came crumbling as quickly as the truth was uncovered: gods and monsters were real and played games of hell and heaven on earth. some thing about him called out to the vulnerability you once knew when you first came to camp so you made it your mission to be the sister he never had. 

you met him at the front of the steps of the main office, “my name is y/n, percy jackson. welcome to camp halfblood.”

“do you just somehow know everyones name,” he raised his eyebrows at you. 

“yes.” no, but you supposed it’d be fun to let him think that. 

“of course you do.”

“come along, i’ll show the ins and outs here. if you're nice enough, i might let you in on the cook's secret stash of blue ice cream,” you laughed out.

he contemplated his choices before grabbing your outstretched hand and shaking it, “deal.”

you showed him who to avoid and the best people to befriend. the history between your kind and why the gods were as they were. the truth behind his bloodline and the legacy that he was now responsible for. the tribulations and the pain that was cursed to follow the children of the gods. 

“and this is chris. the best person to ask if you need to know what plants are poisonous,” you say, introducing him to a guy with black hair and soft eyes. 

percy looks at chris before looking around to see where the hermes boy is, “we’ve met. he was with luke when he was showing me around”

you’re cheeks heated at the mention of his name; looking around to see if you can spot the familiar tan skin and soft eyes that belong to your luke. 

“oh! luke! yeah, he’s around here somewhere. he’s sly like that, wandering and then popping up the next second.”

a voice pipes up behind you suddenly, “y/n, already telling percy everything about me?” 

you whirl around and there he stands in all his glory with the curls you love and the sun in his eyes. your golden boy.

“just telling him the truth, castellan. you’re hard to get a hold of sometimes.”

a hue of pink covers his cheeks, “i’m never far from you.”

both of you oblivious to percy and chris who seem to be conversing about you both and the tip-toe dance you play. 

percy just wonders what’s happening here: firstly, luke is looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars and that’s saying something because he has shit observation skills–his analysis essays can attest to that. secondly, he swears he can see hearts in his eyes from where he’s standing and is that…is that a blush?

he turns to chris, who is just staring at the two like it's not out of the normal for what’s happening, “what’s happening here? is he blushing?”

chris just nods, “yeah. luke’s kinda–very obviously to everyone–in love with y/n. if i didn’t know better i’d say she’s gotten him insane in love. very likely as her dad’s the god of insanity.”

he turns back to the two who are laughing and standing closer than before, “like super, super in love. if there was a word for love, luke’s found it”

“huh.” 

chris says it like it’s common knowledge like how the best food is blue jelly beans, “i mean i ship it, y/n’s the sweetest person around here–the type of person people write songs about. she’s like a sister to us older ones and a mother to the younger ones. the whole camp is waiting for him to just man up and ask y/n. they make each other happy, you know?”

“yeah, i think i do.” 

percy thinks it’s something the poets would write about.

✩ ‧₊˚

fridays are capture the flag days.

you’re not the type of person to engage in these types of games all that often but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. someone’s got to show the percy boy how it’s played. 

“okay, percy. remember, keep your senses open and make sure that no one gets close enough to engage. once they engage, it’s hard to fight them off.”

all around you two, people have begun to don their armor and raise arms. the sun has just reached its height and you’re huddled together discussing your gameplan. even though your cabin house is pretty small, you’ve joined athena and hermes for this game. 

percy’s voice rises a little high as he tries swinging his sword around only to drop it, “yeah, okay. i’ll just try not to die, i guess. that’s not like hard or anything.”

“just follow my lead and if i’m not here find luke.”

you're not exactly excited about percy’s odds. the kid is lanky as is and his sassiness doesn’t help him out much when others target him for it. 

that’s exactly why you’re gone to his rescue when he nearly gets hit in the face by a spear after he insulted one of the boys from house ares. 

your heel nearly buckles under a sharp hit after you block the attack that’s directed to percy. you manage to reset your heel and push the sword off before you drop down into a crouch and sweep the legs of the warrior in front of you.

unfortunately you're slightly too focused on what’s in front of you and protecting percy you don’t realize that someones charging toward you from the side. 

fortunately, a block from a familiar sword stops any attack that might meet you head on. no sooner do you hear the block that luke’s got the other guy on the floor and surrendering. 

you grin at him, “i had that handled.”

giving you that grin that makes you feel like your future's right in front of you, he replies: “i’m sure you did. but why let you deal with him when i can save you the trouble.” 

“why don’t you go and help annabeth win the games, romeo.”

he gives you a wink, throwing a quick ‘yes ma’am’ before he’s already running off again. 

no sooner than later, a quick gong resounds throughout the camp, concluding the games. you’re standing slightly battered while percy walks behind you pointing out all the flowers he’s found. you definitely need to teach him how to defend himself. 

the players are just trickling in for the woods they’ve been fighting in to reband together and in the distance you see a figure running toward you. 

holding onto the flag, he continues to look at you like you’re everything he’s ever needed to breathe. he’s taken his helmet off and you can finally see him fully: brown eyes and all dimples.

“see you’ve found the flag.”

he takes a couple of steps closer to you until only two steps separate him and you, “yeah, someone told me to go win the game so I did just that for her”.

“really now?”

he whispers, “yeah.” 

his eyes twinkle and you’ve never wanted anything more than to continue to stare at them. 

you hope he’ll make the next move but luke castellan, the boy you’ve fallen for in every lifetime, is always content to admire you.

so, you take those two next steps, grab him by his neck, and press your lips to his. 

he stands shocked for a minute, wondering if what’s happening is really happening. but no sooner, he’s dropped the flag on the grass and holds you like your the greatest treasure he’s ever had.

there’s a certain type of tragedy that your golden boy tastes like, fire and freedom all in this moment. it’s the price of redemption and damnation that you’re willing to pay. 

to him, it’s the stars aligning like you’d will them to–the power you held and every thing he’s ever needed. your his past, future, and present: the threads in his life giving him the one thing he’s ever wanted. something he’s only ever dreamed of. 

he pulls back slightly before murmuring, “in every lifetime or the next, i am yours. i don’t know what i did to deserve you. you’re something only out of my dreams, y/n.”

"you sap"

you just kiss him again, ignoring all the campers and those still trickling in. 

✩ ‧₊˚

“definitely a child of dionysius. she’s reduced him to insanity,” pipes up percy as he tears off the petals of the flower he holds in his hand. 

chris just grabs a flower and continues to rip the petals off like the boy beside him. 

“damn straight!” shouts luke toward the two.

Five Moments in Time

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Nurse!Reader

Summary: All of the moments in which Sergeant Barnes let the nurse on his unit know he’s not gonna stop trying to win her over. Even from beyond the grave.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Minor injury, angst (the big kind)

a/n: I rewatched tfa and fell in love with Bucky all over again! So I had to write some 40s angst of course. Also I think might’ve made myself cry. 

I discontinued my taglist, but you can follow my library blog @pellucid-library​ for notifications 🤍

Masterlist

“And just who are you?” 

The medical tent was overrun with white-clad bodies in a flurry. Aprons were stained and gauze was clenched tightly between overworked fingers. The war hadn’t been kind, but at least Captain Rogers had been able to save all these men. 

And amongst the men was the flirty, ever charming, Bucky Barnes. 

“I’ve told you, Sergeant Barnes, I’m your nurse. Now please sit back so I can properly stitch your arm.” 

He didn’t listen to you, sitting up further to prop his hand on his chin and take you in. You’d asked him about four times now, each one fruitless. 

Keep reading

do you want me (dead?) | jjk

summary: jeon jungkook, quidditch extraordinaire and overall pain in your ass, is the one problem you can’t seem to solve, even with years of being the school’s advice columnist under your belt. that is, until you begin to receive letters from someone under the alias of bambi, requesting help with confessing to a crush, and suddenly, your relationship with jeon jungkook takes a turn for… the worst?

{hogwarts!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader word count: 11k genre: fluff! just fluff !!! warnings: this may or may not be absolute self-indulgent trash. a/n: ha! you thought it would be like 20k, you were wrong. and honestly, i’m kind of glad it’s the same length as the rest of the sorted series. you know, for uniformity. anyway, enjoy this flaming garbage dumpster pile of a jungkook e2l fic. have i ever written anything more self indulgent? no? also, happy 2 years to gukyi dot tumblr dot com!!!!

Keep reading

how wonwoo says “i love you” for the first time 💌

he carries you all the way to the bathroom, bridal style and all, just so he can clean your knee. he stays silent as he helps you sit down on the edge of the bathtub and even when you wince in pain, his lips are sealed in a thin line. you look at wonwoo every once in awhile as he dabs your knee with a sterile gauze, noticing the wrinkles that formed between his eyebrows as he inspects your bleeding knee.

you reach out to smooth the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your fingertips and he momentarily stops his movements just to look at you. “i’m sorry,” you finally speak, your lower lip jutting out to let him know just how sorry you are for being so careless.

he shakes his head, and returns his attention back to your cut. he cleans your cut in no time and he leaves you to sit on the edge whilst he throws the red gauze in the bin. you stare at him through the mirror as he washes his hands and his face remains unreadable.

“woo i said i’m sorry,” you attempt to stand up but one look at you through the mirror sends you back down. “why’d you have to be so carelesss yn?” he finally replies, spinning around and leaning against the sink.

“i just wanted to surprise ‘s all,” you mumble, your head dropping in embarrassment. you wanted to surprise him for your 6th monthsary but after tangling yourself with the fairy lights and falling off the stool, the ruckus had him running down from his bedroom to the living room where he found you laying on the floor. he didn’t know his heart could drop so low at the sight of you.

“i really don’t get why we have to celebrate our 6th month together,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. he closes the gap between you two as he kneels between your legs. he cups your cheeks with his warm hands. wonwoo loses his train of thoughts as he continues to look into your eyes and without being able to stop himself, he whispers the three words you’ve been aching to hear from him.

“i love you okay? i don’t need any fairy lights or a blanket fort, i just want you.”

you grin so widely at his words that the pain coursing through your knees subsides momentarily. you cup his cheeks in your hands too, placing a long and soft kiss on his lips.

“i love you too.”

STOLE YOUR SHIRT

pairing; jungkook x reader

sum; the morning after a hook-up yn can't find her clothes. having no other choice she decides to steal one of jungkook's shirts, thinking she would never see him again. little does she know, jungkook had just transferred to her school for his last year.

genre; crack, fluff, slight angst, fake dating!au, f2l, highschool!au (they're both 18)

warnings; slight homophobic behavior, slight mention of abuse, tiny violence, mentions of bullying* (they're really slight like in only 1 or 2 parts)

side pairings; namjin, yoonseok

profile introductions

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six

part seven

part eight

part nine

part ten

part eleven

part twelve

part thirteen

part fourteen

part fifteen

part sixteen

part seventeen

part eighteen

part nineteen

part twenty

part twenty one

part twenty two

part twenty three

part twenty four

part twenty five

part twenty six

part twenty seven

part twenty eight

part twenty nine

part thirty

part thirty one

end

*bullying is never okay unless you're bullying a pigeon !

bringing it back to old school.

summary; a series/collections of fiction of various drivers based on old school reggaeton hits.

f1 main masterlist !

yo voy | lewis hamilton

lewis was used to having women throw themselves at him and try to seduce him for a night in bed. however, only one is able to have him completely wrapped around his finger.

ven bailalo | george russell

despite not being the best dancer, george will always join y/n on the dance floor, bad moves or not.

mayor que yo | max verstappen

max doesn’t care that checo’s sister is older than him. he just wants her no matter the age difference.

que tengo que hacer | charles leclerc

charles is desperate to have y/n back in his life and he just wants to know what he has to do to bring her back.

quiero saber | carlos sainz

y/n is tired of hiding her relationship with carlos and tired of all the prying eyes of other women in clubs who are desperate to dance with him. her only solution? take him out to the dance floor.

pobre diabla | lando norris

y/n is spotted out in the streets of monaco drunk and a crying mess. unbeknownst to everyone, she was crying over her relationship with lando.

dile | oscar piastri

oscar wants to make sure that y/n’s boyfriend knows how and when he met her. but he wants her to tell him.

llamado de emergencia | logan sargeant

the pressure of formula one is catching up to logan. after his dnf in miami, there was only one person he could call for help

pasarela | alex albon ft. lily

the fashionable influencer at the miami grand prix catches the attention of f1’s favorite couple

perdóname | daniel ricciardo

daniel made one of the biggest mistakes of his life and all he wants is for y/n to forgive him

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

note; reader is implied to be latina in a lot of these btw!!! how could i not w a reggaeton series??🙈 ofc i had to add lily to alex’s fic, i missed my fave throuple 😞 but i’m really excited for this <33 first ones should be out hopefully this week!!

Hii! Its me again! The anon who requested the Jihoon x perfect reader. I perfectly understand and I don't blame u at all! It's ok if u don't want to write it anymore. But if u ever decide to finish writing it, here are some of the parts I requested (Tbh, I don't remember much of what I requested):

- Jihoon and the reader are academic rivals

- They get paired up for a project (because they are the top of the class)

- The project makes them closer. Close enough for Jihoon to crush on the reader

- Because he saw her (or them. Depends if u want to write it in a gender neutral pov) with another classmate, he sorta gets jealous

- This leads to him exposing his crush hehe

Tysm for taking the time to read this! <33

Green Tea Latte

Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader (ft. Wonwoo and Soonyoung, mentions of the rest of Seventeen, mentions of Red Velvet's Joy aka Park Sooyoung :))

Synopsis: Jihoon is not the jealous type, but you make him green in more ways than he can handle.

Genre: Fluff, crack, more angst than I was intending, jealous!jihoon, perfectionist!jihoon, hardworking!reader, kind of E2L?, high school!au, FACS class, mild baseball!au

Warning: Use of profanity, mentions of parents passing away 😕 (reader lives with her older brother), food, one joke about polyamory, improper childcare of a doll, jealousy, insecurities, unedited (I apologize . . . I couldn't find a beta reader and I wasn't gonna go back and read all of this because my own work makes me cringe - I'll fix it some day T^T), inaccurate portrayal of high school, jihoon is quite crass at the beginning - I think that's it? Please lmk if there's more!

WC: 9.7K

Permanent taglist: @nanamioo @bibinnieposts

A/N: Anon who requested this 😭😭😭 My sincerest apologies for finishing this so dang late! Thank you for requesting Jihoon btw! Initially, this plot was set out for Jeonghan, but I figured. just maybe I could spin it for Jihoon :) I've struggled for a long time to find a good concept for him, but alas, here we are! I hope it lives up to your expectations 💙 I also apologize in advance - I'm a tad of a masochist, so if the ending isn't what you were expecting, I'm sorry 😅

“And last, but not least, we’ll have one group of three: Y/N, Jihoon, and Wonwoo,” Ms. Choi announced, quickly slapping his roster shut with one hand. His eyes scanned the classroom for any signs of confusion. “If there are no other questions, please find your partners and come check out one of the infant dolls. I’ll also give you the packet that contains all the instructions and worksheets for this final project – please review it tonight and have questions ready for class tomorrow.”

With the clap of her hand, students all around you started shuffling around the room to make way to their partners. You, on the other hand, remained seated in your desk in the third row by the open windows, eyes trained on your hands clasped in front of you. The spring humidity seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable and no amount of fan or breeze could stifle the sweat sticking your hair to your forehead. Was your uniform jacket always this itchy and heavy?

Slowly, you craned your neck to look to the other side of the room to see if he was making his way over. When you caught a glimpse of him, Jihoon was sitting sideways in his seat, one arm resting on his desk and the other slung over the head of his chair. His facial expression, his eyes narrowed at you with the slightest crinkle in between his brows as if he was glaring at you. 

His backpack slung loosely over his shoulder, Wonwoo collapsed lazily into the seat in front of you. Despite the loud scraping of the chair against the white tiled floor, you paid no mind to him. A heavy sigh left Wonwoo’s lips as he leaned back against the window and glanced over, pushing up his black-rimmed glasses to better follow your line of sight. 

Wonwoo already knew: The final project for Family and Consumer Science was going to be interesting. 

Lee Jihoon hated you and he never tried to hide it. The whole senior class, even some of the teachers, knew that he had a strong distaste for you. Jihoon was never really a people person; he was stoic and kept to himself. If not in school, most of his hours were spent on three things: studying, baseball, and music. His only true friend was Soonyoung; everyone else, he was either acquaintances with or good teammates at best. Even then, Jihoon and Soonyoung’s friendship was questionable as the former seemed annoyed half the time they’re spotted together. 

You were special, however – to put it nicely. Ever since you skipped the latter half of your first year of high school and joined their class, their second year of high school, Wonwoo had never seen Jihoon so peeved by someone before. Wonwoo had an inkling it had to with the fact that you persistently knocked him off the podium as the number one student in all the courses you shared. 

Calculus? If Jihoon got a 98%, you got a 99%. 

The competition for Mr. Jung’s creative writing class? If Jihoon got second, you got first for best story – granted, only the two of you and Joshua had entered for extra credit. 

Ms. Park’s impossible biology lab practical? Jihoon was happy with his A, until he heard you aced it. 

To put it simply, the two of you were academic rivals and never had to work together on group projects until now – with Wonwoo, of course. 

“Hi,” Wonwoo cleared his throat. This was his first time interacting with you. He had always seen you around in classes the two of you shared, but never made an effort to befriend you either. It wasn’t that you were cold, most of their classmates got along with you well – similarly to Jihoon, Wonwoo preferred keeping to himself as well. People watching high school students was a rather fun pass time. 

“So,” Wonwoo awkwardly tried again when you didn’t respond. He glanced over to see if you were paying any attention to him yet. He frowned and nudged your hand when he noticed your eyes were still lingering on Jihoon. You perked at the brush of his finger against your knuckles. 

“Hi,” Wonwoo greeted you again. 

“Hey,” you said softly. 

Wonwoo scratched the back of his head, “Class is going to end soon – should we go talk to him?”

“Uh, y-yeah, sure,” you muttered. Robotically, you slipped out of your desk and began walking down the aisle, weaving in between desks to get to Jihoon. Wonwoo followed in suit, though not as gracefully, jutting his hip into the edge of a few brown desks every now and then. 

You didn’t even have a chance to greet Jihoon, however.

“I’m going to ask Ms. Choi if I can do this assignment individually,” Jihoon deadpanned. Shoving his hands into his pants pocket, he stood up in front of you. His eyes flitted between Wonwoo and you. “You guys can be parents to your own stupid doll – I don’t have a problem being a single dad.”

. . . .

“This is stupid,” Jihoon spat, tossing the packet across the table. Wonwoo slowed the chewing, nervously lowering his red bean bread bun into his lap. He shared a knowing glance with you. 

“It is,” you sighed, nodding once. You reached over to the packet and flipped it open a couple pages. “But we have to do it to graduate.”

Jihoon paid no mind to your comment, still clearly upset that Ms. Choi wouldn’t let him do this final FACS project on his own. 

“The purpose of this assignment is to introduce you to the challenges and collaboration of parenthood and raising children,” Ms. Choi insisted sternly. 

“There are single parents out there, you know?” Jihoon had shot back.

“Lee Jihoon,” Ms. Choi warned. 

He lowered his guard and cleared his throat. 

“I well-aware that there are single parents out there, but there are not enough infants–”

“They are dolls,” Jihoon interrupted. 

“There are not enough infants for students to do this assignment individually,” Ms. Choi continued, ignoring the teenage boy’s snark comment. 

“Can I at least trade partners then?” Jihoon asked. 

“It’s important for you to learn how to work with others,” Ms. Choi straightened a stack of papers, clacking the short edge against her desk. “Even if you don’t get along with them. You do not exist in a void, Mr. Lee. Wonwoo and Y/N are good students – give them a chance, you might be surprised.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes when Ms. Choi turned back around. 

“Is there anything else you want to clarify about this assignment, Jihoon?” Ms. Choi asked, a stern hand on her hip when she turned around. 

“No,” he grumbled. 

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow then,” she dismissed him. Her eyes flitted to the awkward pair of students standing in the doorway behind Jihoon. “I believe your partners are waiting for you.”

And that’s how Jihoon found himself here: Sitting at a cramped table in the dinky convenience store down the street from school that is always out of Diet Coke because the three of you didn’t get time in class to discuss the project. 

“Essentially, we just have to take care of this baby for a month,” Wonwoo fingered through the packet, his eyes skimming over the thick of words, “Do the things on this checklist, discuss our experience as a group, and then turn-in a paper or diagram of our choice documenting our experience?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. You twiddle your thumbs, your eyes occasionally flitting to Jihoon sitting kitty corner to you. You were well aware he didn’t like you and that made you nervous. 

“Our experience should be interesting,” Wonwoo commented. He reached for his banana milk and took a long sip.

You furrowed your brows together in confusion. “Why?”

“Because it’s a polyamorous parenthood, duh,” Jihoon answered for Wonwoo. The former choked on his banana milk, coughing up a fit. 

You blushed, shrinking back into your seet, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable between the boys. Wonwoo eyed you nervously, noticing the way you clasped your thighs together, sticking your hand underneath your thighs, and shifted nervously in your seat. 

“Dude,” Wonwoo warned.

Jihoon shrugged. “Am I lying?”

Wonwoo sighed. Indeed Jihoon disliked you, but did he have to be borderline harassing you like this?

“Don’t say shit like that – It makes it uncomfortable for all of us,” Wonwoo chastised him, not trying to single you out. His gaze flickered to you briefly. You gave him a small smile in thanks for trying with Jihoon. “It’s just a group project – let’s get this done, graduate, and get out of here.”

“How do you want to split up the work?” Jihoon ignored Wonwoo, asking the group instead. His eyes flashed down to his phone. “I gotta get to baseball practice soon, so hurry.”

“We can just switch every day in a pattern? Me for one night, Wonwoo for the next, then Jihoon?” you offered. “We don’t have to worry about the baby during the school day since Ms. Choi said we can return them to her room.”

It was a reasonable suggestion, but it still bothered Jihoon. 

“First of all,” Jihoon started, “It’s a doll, not a baby. Second, that’s dumb and inconvenient.”

You winced. Your patience was suddenly running thin. He didn’t like you, but did he have to be so crude? What the hell was his problem?

“I don’t think so,” Wonwoo frowned, also starting to get annoyed with how stubborn Jihoon was. 

Jihoon glared at Wonwoo – why was he suddenly siding with you? Did the shy anime-like boy have a crush on you?

“I’m busy,” Jihoon said as if it was obvious. “I have baseball practice nearly every day after school as we’re getting closer to the end of the season, which means sections? Competition is hot – I can’t be hauling that thing around the field.”

“Then you take it during the weekend,” you blurted, finally having enough of his crap. He was the one being unreasonable – as if you and Wonwoo weren’t busy either. 

“That’s not –”

“Isn’t it though?” you challenged. “If you’re too busy to do your part during the weekday, the weekend is the least you can do? Wonwoo and I can split the work during the week.”

“We have to spend time together too – as parents with the baby,” Wonwoo piped up, reminding the two of you about the other requirement he spotted. “At least once a week.”

Jihoon groaned, muttering a few curses underneath his breath. 

“Let’s just meet on Fridays then and use that time to discuss and gather info and do the reflection,” you suggested. 

“Why are you making all the scheduling decisions here?” Jihoon asked accusingly. “You’re not the only one here, Y/N. We have lives outside of school, you know? Fridays are usually baseball games for me.”

“Fine,” you relented, crossing your arms over your chest. “What do you propose?”

Jihoon mirrored your posture, leaning back into his seat. “There’s three of us and seven days of the week. One day, we’ll meet together, so that leaves six. You take the stupid doll for first two days, I’ll take him for next two days, and Wonwoo the other two.”

Your phone buzzed in your lap. 

Sooyoung: Where are you?

Sooyoung: Hyun is starting to wonder where you are – hurry!

You quickly shot your co-worker a text that you would be there soon and glanced up at Jihoon and Wonwoo who were still in discussion – though it was more of Jihoon talking at Wonwoo. 

“Two days for each person with a third for us to meet together sounds fine to me,” you announced when the chatter died down. You pointed towards the door, rising out of your seat. Your hand wrapped around the navy blue and yellow carseat, holding the infant. “I need to go – I’ll take the baby today and tomorrow, and hand it off to Wonwoo on Wednesday. Text me if you need anything.”

“‘I need to go’,” Jihoon mocked you. He scoffed and sank down into his seat. 

Wonwoo frowned. “Why do you dislike her so much?”

Through the convenience store's glass window, he watched you cross the empty street. Your ponytail swung back and forth behind you like a horse’s tail, the keychain of the white character with the glistening eyes and pink cap clipped to your black backpack mimicking the same motion. 

“I . . . don’t know,” Jihoon muttered. 

. . . .

“What if it’s because you’re jealous, my friend?” Soonyoung pointed his dripping cherry red popsicle at Jihoon. The sun was already setting after a long three hours of baseball practice. Rather than going home right away, Soonyoung somehow convinced Jihoon to go hang out at the park, where the latter ended up venting and recounting his day, updating his best friend on the situation with the FACS final project, finally ending with Wonwoo’s incredibly stupid question. 

“What? Am not,” Jihoon protested.

Soonyoung smirked, his tongue, a matching shade of red, flicking out to lip the droplet that was about to drip onto the pavement underneath the swings they were sitting on. “Are too – literally, you were top of the class since middle school until she came along and stole your thunder.”

“Impossible,” Jihoon refused to believe his best friend. 

“Justin Bieber said, ‘never say never,’” Soonyoung glanced over at Jihoon and nodded, knowingly. 

Jihoon refused to believe though – he knew himself best, right? And he knew he wasn’t the jealous type. He never cared about competition and winning. He was the type to just do his own thing, worked hard, and ended up at the top – until you, obviously. 

“Well, why else would you dislike her so much then?” Soonyoung probed. The last small chunk of cherry popsicle slipped off the stick and splattered on the blacktop underneath him. It melted quickly into a puddle on the hot surface.

“What if I don’t dislike her?” Jihoon proposed. 

Soonyoung gasped – Jihoon assumed it was just a delayed reaction from dropping the last of his frozen treat, but his next words took Jihoon by surprise. 

“Does this mean you like her?” Soonyoung asked, eyes wide. “You’re pulling a tsundere – like, like . . . Kyo Sohma from Fruit Basket or Tsukishima from Haikyuu!”

“What the – no!” Jihoon exclaimed. In his swing, he pulled away from his friend trying to loosen his grip on his arm. “That’s not what I meant, Soonyoung. I don’t like her, but I don’t dislike her – she’s just a person . . . who I find annoying.”

Soonyoung sat back down into his swing, letting out a brisk ‘tsk.’ He slumped his shoulders forward, his hands wrapping around the rusted chains. His lips placed in a pout, his eyes flickered quickly to Jihoon before they turned back to focus on the black top underneath them. “She’s not really though . . .?”

Jihoon’s face hardened, furrowing his brows together, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. What did Soonyoung know about you that Jihoon didn’t know?

Shifting uncomfortably under Jihoon’s intense glare, Soonyoung started pushing himself back and forth on the swing with the toe of his sneaker. “Y/N’s . . . She’s actually . . . uh, really nice? And helpful.” Soonyoung nodded, content with his description. 

“And I’m not?” Jihoon asked bluntly. 

Soonyoung pointed a finger at his friend. “I didn’t say that – see, you’re being jealous right now.”

Jihoon shook his head. “No, please – just enlighten me. What’s so nice and helpful about her?”

“One time, walking into school, I tripped and spilled my papers everywhere,” Soonyoung straightened his shoulders. “No one helped me pick up my stuff, but Y/N saw and helped, and asked if I was okay.”

How pathetic, Jihoon thought to himself. Soonyoung was such a soft person – so easy to please. 

“Soonyoung, that could’ve literally been anyone –”

“But no one helped me, did they?”

“It’s one incident.”

“She had chemistry with me that semester,” Soonyoung continued to explain, hoping Jihoon could see the better side of you. “I messed up my experiment and she stayed behind to help me.”

“Okay,” Jihoon tilted his head, “I guess that’s kind of nice.”

Soonyoung let a beat pass, carefully observing Jihoon’s reaction. 

“If you weren’t so peeved by her, I might’ve . . . tried to be her friend more,” Soonyoung sulked. 

“Are you blaming me, right now?” Jihoon asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah – a little bit. She’s cute.”

“Cute?” 

Soonyoung straightened his spine in the swing, refusing to look at Jihoon out of embarrassment – And Jihoon knew. Jihoon knew that sulking, childish look better than anyone. It was that look Soonyoung gave him when Jihoon made fun of him for being a SHINee fanboy when they first met. It was that look that Soonyoung gaven when Jihoon came to pick him up from detention their third year of high school and didn’t talk to him the whole bike ride home. It was that look Soonyoung gave when Jihoon didn’t pay enough attention to him and ignored Jihoon for a whole week. 

He was annoying, but Jihoon couldn’t help but cave in because that damned look made his heart ache a little. And as much as he hated to admit, high school was a little lonely when Soonyoung wasn’t around. Jihoon didn’t have that many friends, frankly. Taking in a deep breath with his eyes closed, knowing he had to calm down and approach this carefully before Soonyoung threw another fit. 

“D-do you . . . did you . . . like her?” Jihoon finally choked up. He side-eyed his best friend who was hiding his face in the shadow of his baseball cap. 

Eventually, Soonyoung gave a small nod that if Jihoon wasn’t watching him like a hawk, he would’ve missed it. 

“Fuck,” Jihoon whispered under his breath. “Do you still like her?”

“I dunno,” Soonyoung shrugged in defeat, “She’s cute and she was really nice, but I haven’t talked to her long enough to know.”

Pressing his lips into a tight line, Jihoon got up from his swing and awkwardly made his way over to Soonyoung. His hand hovering over his best friend’s shoulder, he hesitated for a moment, eventually clamping down. 

“There, there,” Jihoon muttered. 

“Give her a chance,” Soonyoung said after a moment, “For me?”

He peered up at Jihoon again – those damn shining eyes. 

“Fine.”

. . . .

So . . .

Maybe Soonyoung was right. 

You weren’t that bad. 

Most importantly, you did your part of the project and you did it well. Unlike most of his peers he had been in groups for projects, not only were you diligent, but you were thorough – even if it was just FACS class. You paid attention in class and took notes on how to care for infants. You studied them after class and put the skills you learned into use. He watched you swaddle Haeyoung, the name the three of you, mostly Wonwoo, decided to name the doll, with care and feed it the plastic bottle with white-colored fluid that didn’t come out of the rubber nipple as if it was your own child. You didn’t even grimace when you had to change its brown diaper (yes, this doll was programmed to poop – wild). When Wonwoo almost dropped it on its head, it was you who saved it and placed it properly back in his arms. You didn’t even get mad at Wonwoo as Jihoon almost did – you just . . . laughed and told him it was okay. 

You were never friendly with Jihoon as you were with Wonwoo, but at the very least, you were courteous and professional. That was enough for Jihoon. He wasn’t expecting the three of you to be best friends at the end of this project anyhow. The things the three of you decided to do was starting to become . . . fun – kind of. Jihoon wasn’t big on ‘going out,’ but morning walks in the park, afternoon coffee shop hangouts, and dinner at Wonwoo’s house were becoming bearable. Jihoon had always chalked this up to Wonwoo being present and serving as a buffer between you and Jihoon. However, one particular afternoon in which your third member couldn’t join the two of you, made Jihoon question the reality of your situation. 

Sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair of the coffee shop, Jihoon played with the straw of his iced coffee, waiting for your arrival. He peered at his watch wondering where you were. It was almost 5PM – you had agreed to meet up half an hour ago. 

The bell hanging above the entrance of the cafe clanged as a new customer walked it. Shortly after your voice, a little breathless, called out to Jihoon from afar, “Hey!”

Jihoon looked up, tilting his chin in your direction as you made your way over to his table. You looked rather frazzled. Your hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail and you sported a white t-shirt with faint, but questionable splotches of yellow and brown. 

“Took you long enough,” Jihoon muttered. 

“Sorry for being late,” you cleared your throat, not hearing Jihoon’s snarky remark. You adjusted Haeyoung’s car seat in the chair next to you. “Um . . . family stuff came up.”

“Sure,” Jihoon replied. He leaned over, setting his elbows on the table. He watched you unzip your bag and pull out a red spiral notebook. Fringes from paper being ripped out of it stuck out on the edges. “Did you want anything to drink before we start?”

You stared at Jihoon blankly. You were thirsty admittedly, but you also knew you probably couldn’t afford anything here. Knowing your situation, Wonwoo had usually offered to buy you something, even if you refused. 

“No,” you shook your head and flipped open to a fresh page. 

“You sure? You don’t want to get your usual green tea latte?” He pointed at the cashier counter.

You froze in the middle of uncapping your blue pen. “H-how . . . how did you know that was my go-to order?”

Jihoon shrugged like it was no big-deal. “Wonwoo always buys it for you when we come here – and I remember you said once you don’t like caffeine.”

“Uh . . . I’m good – I don’t need any today,” you cleared your throat, positioning your pen over the blank piece of paper. “Let’s just get this over with and go.”

“Okay,” Jihoon replied, repositioning himself in his seat. No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn’t shake off the weird turbulence swarming in his chest. 

. . . .

With some time before dinner, the two of you opted to walk around town with Haeyoung to make up for “family time” that your group didn’t spend last week. Indeed it was awkward, you were two enemies walking around with a fucking doll for heaven’s sake. However, it was oddly comforting walking around mindlessly without feeling the pressure to talk or listen constantly.

Unfortunately, his peace was interrupted sooner than expected. 

“So,” you started slowly, “What were you doing before the meeting today?”

Give her a chance.

Soonyoung’s word echoed in Jihoon’s head as he walked with you shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Just . . . some conditioning,” Jihoon grunted. 

Your eyes widened slightly. “For baseball?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon replied. He cleared his throat. 

“That’s . . . some intense training – no rest,” you commented. 

“If you want to be good, it’s what you gotta do.”

The conversation fizzled out pretty fast afterwards as neither of you were sure where to go from there. 

“How about you?” Jihoon managed to croak as the two of you crossed the street. He shoved his hands into his black joggers. 

“Hm?” you hummed in confusion. 

“W-what . . . where were you before the meeting,” Jihoon clarified, “You were . . . uh, late, you know?”

Annoyed that he had to bring that up, you side glanced at him before answering. “I was at work.”

Jihoon raised his brows in surprise. “Oh? You work.”

“Yeah,” you replied curtly. 

“Where at?” 

“M-my . . . older brother’s restaurant.”

“Your family owns a restaurant?”

You shook your head, swallowing your saliva nervously. “J-just . . . my brother.”

“Do your parents work there too?” Jihoon asked bluntly. Genuinely, he was confused. Assuming your older brother wasn’t that much older than you, most young adults didn’t have enough money to own a restaurant at this age. 

You stopped walking altogether, your chin dipping into your chest as your gaze fell onto the pavement before you. 

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asked curiously, dragging out each word. 

“I . . . don’t . . . my parents aren’t around anymore,” you finally answered him. 

Shit. 

“Oh,” Jihoon scratched the back of his head, “I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you muttered immediately, “Don’t feel bad . . . they’ve been gone for a while – it’s w-whatever. I just . . . try to help out my brother when I can and he pays me some so I can . . . have money . . . for stuff.”

Jihoon let out a soft hum. His stomach flipped out of guilt. The two of you continued to walk in silence a little longer, the afternoon sun casting a shadow across town. It was almost supper time, most of the streets empty as people have lingered into nearby restaurants or driving home. The soft hum of engines sounded in the distance. Did Jihoon try to make conversation with you? Does he just keep walking in silence? If he talks to you, what does he talk about? Certainly not your parents. 

Thankfully, however, you seemed to answer his questions for him. 

“So . . . um, baseball,” you started, your grip tightened on the stroller. It was now Jihoon’s turn to side glance at you. “H-how’s the season going?”

“Good,” Jihoon replied simply, “Ish.”

“Ish?”

“I mean, it could be going better, but we’re working through it and nothing is set in stone yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“We had a fair amount of wins, but also losses,” Jihoon explained, “I’m . . . not sure if we’re going to make it to sections.”

“Um . . . what are . . . sections?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t play sports – not competitively at least. You didn’t have the time nor money for it. 

“They’re like . . . when you play against teams from different cities, not just other schools in your district,” Jihoon nodded, satisfied with his explanation, “So like . . . we played Bangtan High, but in sections, we might play a team from Anyang.”

“Oh,” you hummed, the pieces starting to come together. 

“You don’t play much sports, do you?” Jihoon found himself chuckling. 

You shook your head. 

Give her a chance. 

Soonyoung’s voice echoed in the back of his mind again. An idea started to form in Jihoon’s mind. You were making an effort to talk to Jihoon, perhaps not as friends, but . . . acquaintances – and perhaps this was a good chance for Soonyoung. Admittedly, Jihoon did feel bad for preventing him from being friends with people he wanted to be friends with. 

“You should come to one of my baseball games,” Jihoon suddenly offered. 

Heat traveled up your back and colored the tips of your ears. You felt warmth spread across your cheeks, immediately, tearing your gaze away from Jihoon. You thought he hated you; now, he was suddenly offering you to come to one of his games? 

He didn’t seem to notice, however, his mind still lingering on Soonyoung. 

“You should come,” Jihoon repeated himself, “The next one’s on Tuesday – I can get you a ticket. First experience on me.”

Jihoon turned to you, the corner of his lips twitching up ever so slightly. 

Jihoon was smiling at you. 

Lee Jihoon, your unintentional rival, your arch nemesis, was smiling. At. You.

When his single dimple on his left cheek peeked through, it sent your heart in a flutter. 

What the actual fuck was happening. 

. . . .

Soonyoung was ecstatic to see you. 

He was nearly bouncing off the walls of the dugout when he saw you in your bright blue t-shirt, sitting in the front stands. Typically, the boys weren’t allowed to leave the dugout before the game started, but a few members have already stalked off to the audience to greet their significant others. Since it was your first game and Soonyoung would not stop gushing about your presence, Jihoon decided to go greet you, indeed raising a few eyebrows. 

“Hey,” Jihoon called, catching your attention. He raised a hand to wave at you, Soonyoung trailing not too far behind. “You made it.”

You got up from your spot on the bleachers to meet him at the fence. With a nervous chuckle, you replied, “I did – didn’t want a free ticket to go to waste.”

“Where’s Haeyoung?” Jihoon asked. Typically, you took the doll on Mondays and Tuesdays. 

“I handed her off to Wonwoo,” you told him, “We traded days – figured a baseball game wasn’t quite the place for an infant.”

“Plastic infant,” Jihoon corrected. 

Surprisingly, a soft chortle escaped your lips. Prior, these kinds of comments annoyed you whenever Jihoon referred to Haeyoung as fake. 

“Hi Y/N!” Soonyoung interrupted. 

You turned to the excited and lanky boy. You smiled, “Soonyoung, right?”

“You remember!” the said man exclaimed. 

“Long time, no see,” you greeted him, “How have you been? You play?”

“I do,” Soonyoung replied, “And I’ve been doing pretty good.” He eyed Jihoon for a moment. “I heard you and Jihoon are working on a project together – I hope he’s not giving you too hard of a time.”

“Hey!” Jihoon protested. 

Your smile transformed into a grin as your gaze traveled down to your shoes. “He’s . . . quite alright actually.” You nodded. “He does his part.”

“I’m glad,” Soonyoung smiled. He stared at you a while longer. Though you didn’t seem to notice, Jihoon could’ve sworn there were stars shining in his eyes. 

“This is . . . my first baseball game,” you told the both of them shyly. 

“Oh?” Soonyoung replied in surprise. “Jihoon didn’t tell me that.”

Said boy grit his teeth and elbowed his friend in the ribs. “I . . . got her the ticket.”

“Oh?” Soonyoung said a little louder this time, surprise lacing his voice.  

“He did,” you confirmed nervously. You gripped the canvas strap of your satchel. 

“Boys!” their coach called. Jihoon looked back to see him gesturing for the ones at the stands to return. 

“Well,” Soonyoung shrugged, “Enjoy the game, Y/N – I’ll . . . see you later?”

Jihoon tugged at his elbow, carefully watching your reaction. Eyes wide, you blinked twice, a look of surprise gracing your face. He wasn’t sure if it was just the sun or if you were blushing at Soonyoung’s request.

“Uh . . . yeah,” you replied softly, “See you later.”

Soonyoung’s face immediately lit up, his lips curling into a pleased smile – the kind that caused his eyes to disappear. Jihoon and him jogged back to the dugout, though it was only Soonyoung who excitedly waved back at you. 

. . . .

“It’s a homerun! Kim Mingyu saved Sebong High with a winning homerun in the last minute!” the sports announcer exclaimed. The crowd around you erupted into a loud cheer as the ball soared out of the field. Boys dressed in white and blue streamed out of the dugout onto the fields, hugging the tall batter.

Never been at a baseball game before, you assumed it was a good thing. Awkwardly, you got up from your spot in the front and joined the crowd in standing, though you weren’t cheering – you weren’t the type to celebrate loudly.  Your eyes flickered at your classmates and a few parents hugging one another and jumping up and down, hard enough you could feel the vibrations through the metal bleachers. You were so lost, you failed to notice the enthusiastic player running in your direction. 

“Kwon Soonyoung!” you heard some girls nearby squeal. They rushed to the fence, grabbing on tightly to the black railing, waving at him. 

He didn’t pay any mind to them, however – his eyes were trained on you. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Hey!” he called, jumping up and down. The girls threw you a dirty look as you carefully made your down closer to him. 

“Congratulations,” you greeted him. 

“We won! We won!” he cried cheerfully. 

You let out a hearty laugh at his child-like excitement and nodded. 

When he calmed down, he smiled shyly and let out a sigh of relief. He took off his cap and placed it back on his head so it was backwards. “Hey, if you aren’t busy,” he looked back at the team, now throwing Mingyu up in the air, “We’re going out to pizza after if you want to join.”

The smile on your face fell. 

“Only if you’re comfortable though,” Sooyoung added, noticing your nervous expression. 

“I . . . uh, that’s sweet, Soonyoung, but I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you replied softly. 

“You won’t be!” Soonyoung protested, “The team members bring their significant others all the time.”

Your cheeks grew aflame immediately. 

“Not that we’re dating or I’m interested in you in that way or – err, I mean!” Soonyoung ran a frustrated hand over his face, “Uh . . . I mean, I am, but also . . . I just want to . . . it’s your first game and I wanted to invite you along – as a friend.”

“I . . . are you sure?” was all you could croak out at this time. 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung replied in a small voice. He pointed at a black-haired beauty in the crowd. “Jeonghan is Seungcheol’s friend and he tags along all the time – albeit, I’m not sure if it’s because he actually wants to hang out or he just wants free food.”

Being the weirdo who skipped a grade, you never quite fit in anywhere. You hardly had any friends your age because you didn’t have classes with them. The older kids you did have class with didn’t quite welcome you either. It was the first time anyone from school was asking you to hangout for fun and you did take the evening off from work to come to this – and Soonyoung mentioned free food?

“Please?” Soonyoung begged. “It’ll be fun.”

With your hands clasped in front of you, you sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. “Sure,” a nervous chortle escaped your lips, “Why not?”

. . . .

And that was how you found yourself wedged in between Jihoon and Soonyoung in a tight booth at the local pizza parlor. Nibbling on the tip of a slice of sausage pizza and your cheeks puffed and full, you while carefully the rest of the baseball team run loose. The boy that Soonyoung had pointed out to you earlier, Jeonghan, had challenged Mingyu to a pizza eating contest, the two disgustingly stuffing their faces. Seungcheol, the team captain, sat at the edge of the booth opposite to you, watching the two with an uncomfortable expression on his face – somewhere between a grimace and a grin. In the booth behind you, you could hear the younger members of the team, Chan and Seungkwan, bickering about whether or not frozen yogurt was the same thing as ice cream. 

“Sorry,” Jihoon grumbled next to you.

You gulped down the remnants of pizza in your mouth. “It’s fine.”

He slumped over, resting his head on his hands. “They’re . . . usually this loud. You get used to it.”

“Yeah?” you asked, dabbing the corner of your lips with a napkin. 

“But . . . it’s kind of fun, you know? To watch,” Jihoon continued to explain. “Are . . . you doing okay?”

You nodded while taking a sip of your Coke. Shyly, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Jihoon ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the small gesture. “I’ve never been out like this before,” you admitted in a small voice. 

“Huh?” Jihoon got up from his position on the table, supporting his chin with his fist. 

“Yeah,” you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I don’t really . . . ‘hang out’ with people from school.”

“Oh,” Jihoon frowned. “That sounds a little lonely.”

You shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “You get used to it.”

“What do you like to do for fun then?” Jihoon inquired further.

You opened your mouth as if you were going to say something, but then closed it right away again. Peering down your half-eaten pizza, you curled your shoulders forward and trapped your hands in between your thighs, and muttered, “I don’t really do much outside of school and work to be honest.”

Jihoon remained silent for a moment. Before he could register the words that were coming out of his mouth, he asked, “You wanna watch a movie with Soonyoung and me this weekend?”

. . . .

For the next few weeks, you find yourself spending more time with Jihoon outside of your group project – the movie was just one of many hangouts to come. Typically, you spent your lunch hour by yourself, doing work in the library rather than in the crowded cafeteria with the few acquaintances you knew. It was quieter and it gave you a little extra time to study. It was also less claustrophobic, giving you more room to breathe and be comfortable, not always on guard. Before you knew it, however, according to Jihoon at least, upon Soonyoung’s insistence, the pair of friends started joining you in the library for lunch. It was certainly weird at first because you weren’t used to someone talking to you so much, but you grew accustomed to their company. Listening to Soonyoung babble was fun and admittedly, his banter with Jihoon every now and then was entertaining. Through these talks, you found out Soonyoung lived only a block away from you, and Jihoon a few blocks away from Soonyoung. You never thought you would be one of those girls, but you found yourself bathing underneath the spring afternoon sun on the white bleachers at the baseball field, waiting for them to finish practice to walk home together. Indeed, the many admirers who came to watch them regularly eyed you curiously, but you pretended not to mind, opting to read your textbooks or work on the calculus homework instead, while they did their thing. Truthfully, you still didn’t quite understand the game despite the number of times Jihoon tried to explain it to you. 

Sitting in the library in the early morning, earbuds plugged into your MP3 (yes, you still had one of those), trying (key word, trying), to revise your final paper for your modern literature class, you wondered how the last few weeks of high school came down to this: Hanging out with your high school rival and his best friend. At this point, were the three of you acquaintances? Friends? Gripping the red pen in your hand, you shook your head of such thoughts, reminding yourself to focus on the missing commas in the paper in your hands. Suddenly, sweet guitar strings started playing through your earbuds, Justin Bieber’s voice coming through, “One touch and you got me stoned, higher than I’ve known . . .” 

You smiled softly to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek at the sound of the song. It was yet another change you weren’t expecting: You actually liked Justin Bieber’s music now because of Jihoon. Had it been just a month from now, you would’ve rather eaten bricks than listen to his music. The memories of the walk home when Jihoon introduced you to the artist trickled into your mind. 

“What do you mean you don’t like Justin Bieber?!” Jihoon exclaimed. Immediately, his hand already flew to his back pocket, searching for his phone. 

“Here he goes again,” Soonyoung chuckled. 

“C’mon,” you rolled your eyes, “The last time I listened to him, the lyrics of Baby weren’t that deep.”

“He’s evolved – grown,” Jihoon defended childishly. His eyes were glued to his phone, scrolling through his Dotify playlist. “And admit, as terrible as the lyrics were, Baby was legendary.”

“He’s a big fan,” Soonyoung leaned over and whispered. You nodded in acknowledgement. 

Jihoon paused in his stride and unzipped a side pocket of his bag, digging for his earbuds. Pulling out a tangle of white wires, he ran his hand through a loop and straightened it, plugging one end into the audio port of his phone. Placing one bud in his ear, he offered you the other side. 

“Here,” Jihoon insisted. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna–”

“Just listen!” he protested, already trying to shove the piece in your ear. 

“Okay! Okay!” you giggled. You adjusted it and crossed your arms, waiting for him to hit play. 

The look on your face was priceless. You winced back in surprise, the devilish grin wiped off your face. You had stopped walking altogether, Jihoon and Soonyoung watching you curiously. 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Jihoon sniggered. 

You nodded slowly. “He’s definitely . . . grown since Baby.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Admit it! It’s good!”

You shrugged and handed the earbud back to Jihoon. “It’s not what I expected from Justin Bieber, but yeah –”

“Sucker!” Jihoon screeched gleefully. 

The memory was interrupted with the loud plop of a plastic cup in front of you. Green liquid filled the clear container, condensation forming droplets on the outside,  the clinking of ice sloshing against one another seeping through your headphones. You looked up to see Jihoon waving at you. 

“Ice green tea latte with oatmilk because you’re lactose intolerant – just like you like it,” Jihoon announced when you pulled out your earpiece. 

Hesitantly, you reached for the cold drink and brought the straw to your lips. You peered up at him through your lashes. “T-thanks.”

He pulled out the wooden chair across from you and collapsed into it with a loud groan. “You’re welcome. I figured you might need it,” he pointed at the paper, “You said you were still working on the paper when I texted you last night at 11.”

The heat that creeped up your spine came faster than you could register. Had it been anyone else, you might have not thought much of it, but this was coming from Jihoon. He remembered you were working on your paper, remembered your drink of choice, and bought it for you knowing you would be tired. It was Jihoon. You shouldn’t be this flustered. 

“Thanks,” was all you could muster to say again. 

Jihoon nodded and reached for your MP3. Eyes wide, you lunged for it, but he snatched it before you could get to it. A smirk spread across his lips. 

“Justin Bieber, I see?” he teased. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, ripping the device out of his hands. 

“I’m culturing you, Y/N,” he sang. 

“It’s one good song,” you retorted, “Does not mean I like Justin Bieber as a person.”

“Didn’t ask you to,” Jihoon shrugged, “He just has nice music.”

“You just like sad boy music,” you shot back. 

“And if I do?”

“What are you doing here, Jihoon?” you asked, starting to get annoyed by his presence. 

“Oh right,” Jihoon sat up in his chair, “Soonyoung was wondering if you wanted to come to the baseball game on Friday.”

“Oh?” you perked up, setting your drink on the table, “I was planning on it anyhow.”

Jihoon held up his finger. He ignored the nagging voice at the back of his head telling him to do something different than Soonyoung asked. “It’s the last game before sections.”

“Sections . . . playing other cities?”

Jihoon nodded. “Which means it’s an important game.”

“Okay,” you dragged out the last syllable, not sure what he was getting at. 

The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s tradition to ask someone special to wear their jersey to the last game.”

Your mouth fell agape slightly, the heat returning to your face. 

“Soonyoung,” Jihoon continued slowly, carefully observing your reaction, “S-soonyoung wants you to wear his jersey.”

When you awkwardly agreed, Jihoon couldn’t help the way his heart dropped to the pits of stomach. 

He was supposed to dislike you, not feel like this. 

. . . .

And that was how you found yourself standing at the front of the bleachers wearing Soonyoung’s jersey, his last name printed in large white block letters, ‘KWON’ and the number ‘05’, on the back. You tucked it into a pair of jean shorts, a matching blue cap covering your face upon your co-worker and friend, Sooyoung’s insistence. She had also tagged along for today’s game. 

“You look cute,” Sooyoung commented, holding onto the railing. 

You tugged at the front of the jersey. “Thank you.”

She linked arms with you. “Don’t be so nervous.”

You couldn’t help but be with all the fans staring holes into the back of your head sitting behind you. “I-I’m just . . . not used to this.”

“Soonyoung asked you to wear it for a reason,” she reassured you, “Wear it proudly.”

“Sooyoung,” you started slowly, “W-why did he ask me to wear it though? And . . . not Jihoon.”

A look of surprise crossed her face. “Wait –”

“Y/N!” Soonyoung’s cheerful voice cut off your friend. 

You both turned your attention to the tall boy running and waving your way, this time Jihoon trailing behind him. You and Sooyoung clambered down to the black railing. 

“Soonyoung,” greeted him softly. You gestured to your friend next to you, “This is my friend Sooyoung – she goes to a different high school, but wanted to tag along today.”

Sooyoung waved cheerfully at the pair of friends who returned the gesture. Soonyoung let out a small chuckle. “Wah, our names are almost the same – different by one letter.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jihoon snorted. 

Sooyoung frowned at the shorter boy. 

Nevertheless, A satisfied smile graced Soonyoung’s face. “You look nice.” He was looking at you.

“Thank you for letting me wear your jersey,” you told him. Your eyes flickered momentarily to Jihoon who was standing silently behind Soonyoung. He paid no mind to you whatsoever, looking off in the distance, perhaps at the score sign. 

“Thank you for wearing it,” Soonyoung replied. “To be honest? I was kind of worried you wouldn’t.”

You knitted your brows together. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Soonyoung let out a nervous chortle and looked away. “Y/N . . .”

“Let’s go back,” Jihoon grumbled, tugging at Soonyoung’s arm. The latter frowned, but Jihoon returned it with a stern look. “Focus on the game, Kwon.”

Soonyoung turned back to you momentarily. “I’ll see you – y-you guys after the game?”

You nodded. 

“Win or lose, pizzas on us,” Soonyoung smiled. 

“Good luck,” you told them, though Jihoon didn’t seem to acknowledge you. 

When they stalked off, your friend turned to you, her eyes wide as if she was about to explode. 

“What?” you asked dumbly. 

“You seriously don’t know why he asked you to wear his jersey?” Sooyoung deadpanned. 

You shook your head slowly. 

Sooyoung collapsed into your side, burying her face into your chest. “Oh you, sweet summer’s child.”

. . . .

It had been a week since the baseball game and a week before graduation. 

Since then, Jihoon has been extra bitter around you. He was curt and short with answers. When you asked him to study together for other classes, he was quick to turn you down, explaining that he had to practice even more for sections. You had chalked it up to him just being stressed with baseball and the end of the year coming up, but you couldn’t help but he was avoiding you. Thus, you did what any rational, young adult would do: you confronted him. 

Jihoon had invited you and Wonwoo over to finish up the reflection for FACS class. Wonwoo had curfew and headed home early. He had left Haeyoung behind with the two of you since it was Jihoon’s to take the doll anyhow. Seated at his desk, Jihoon was bent over his phone tapping away at a game of SUPERSTAR Pledis. 

“Hey,” you called, pushing yourself from your lying position on his bed. 

Jihoon let out a nonchalant hum. 

“Are you . . . mad at me?” you asked. 

Jihoon paused his game and let out a scoff. He spun around in his desk chair, irritated. “Not everything’s about you, Y/N.”

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” Jihoon continued with a roll of his eyes, “Why would I be?”

You shrugged. “You’ve just . . . been kind of distant.”

“Maybe because I have other things to do that don’t involve you?” 

That’s when the mechanical cry of Haeyoung started to sound. 

“Look what you did,” Jihoon grumbled. Using the toe of his sock-covered foot, he reached over and began rocking the car seat. 

You couldn’t give a damn about the doll at this moment, absolutely taken aback by Jihoon’s rudeness. “That was uncalled for . . . Look, I don’t know what happened or what I did, but if you could just, I don’t know, be mature, and tell me, maybe we can talk it out and work it out? You’ve been upset since the baseball game and I’m just trying to understand why. I thought maybe it was the end of the year coming up, but that clearly doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Despite the doll’s cries, Jihoon stopped rocking the car seat and turned to you. “Mature? I’m older than you, Y/N. What do you even know about me?”

“Does that matter when you’re acting like a child?” you exclaimed. 

“Do you always have to be better than me?” Jihoon exploded. He stood up from his chair, unable to contain his discontent anymore. Truthfully, he knew you were right about him being cold towards you, but it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. 

He didn’t realize it then, but the more he dwelled on it, Jihoon was jealous. And what made it worse was that he wasn’t just jealous of you this time, but he was jealous of his best friend, Soonyoung, when that should’ve never been the case. As much as he wanted to deny it, Jihoon had feelings for you and he was sure Soonyoung did too – he wouldn’t have just thoughtlessly asked you to wear his jersey at the last game. It was a tradition reserved for couples, or couples who were to be. Unlike Soonyoung, Jihoon didn’t have the guts to ask you to wear his jersey, and when he finally did, it was already too late. He was always like this: one step behind in everything he wanted, you included. 

“Y/N wins this, Y/N got the highest score that,” Jihoon mocked, continuing out of fury, “You’re so irritating, you know that? Ever since you joined our class, you know how annoying it has been trying to compete with you? I tried to keep my distance, but you slowly started seeping into my life with this project – fuck, even my best friend is whipped about youn now. What’s so great about you, anyways?”

You shrank back in his bed as each and every word pierced you. You had thought just maybe high school wouldn’t end so terribly after all. These past few weeks with Jihoon and Soonyoung were fun. Even if it was fleeting, for once, you had friends: People who get you and enjoy your company. But alas, you were wrong; everyone was the same. Like you feared, you got too attached to what was a façade, trusted too much, and got hurt. 

“Do you really think I enjoy being in this . . . this made-up competition with you?” you started. Standing in the middle of his room, you clenched and unclenched your fist, boring holes into Jihoon’s forehead as he leaned awkwardly against his wooden desk with his arms crossed over his chest, one hand clutching the elbow. His narrow eyes watched you carefully, his expression was blank and unreadable, as it always has been. 

Only then did Jihoon finally notice that Haeyoung had finally quieted. It was quite ironic. The silence was all the two of you desired after hours of the stupid doll child crying, yet it made the air thick and suffocating.   There was no hint of relief or relaxation like he had imagined - the tension was like a rubber band pulled taught on the verge of snapping to its separate ends. All the words he wanted to tell you at the tip of his tongue had evaporated into thin air. He didn’t have to be told to know he really went too far this time. 

Your lips crumpled into a bunch, your chin wrinkling in the process. Jihoon was truly frustrating. A man of few words, holder of the best poker face you’ve seen, he hid his heart hidden in the depths of school uniform. You tried to be understanding - not everyone was as honest about their feelings as you. It didn’t mean he made you any less upset, however. All you wanted was him to communicate with you clearly. You just wanted one word from him. You just wanted him to answer your question. One minute his actions were pulling at your heartstrings, the next he was throwing you under the bus to be rolled over. Perhaps you didn’t know him as well as he had led on. 

One flutter of your lashes and the first tear escaped your lower lid and rolled down your cheek. You let out a small cough to hide the whimper in your throat. You’ve had enough. You couldn’t do this anymore.  

“I’m done, Jihoon,” you relented, your voice barely above a whisper. “When this assignment is over tomorrow and after we graduate this weekend,” you sucked in a sharp breath, “I hope we never meet again.”

Jihoon had half-expected you to storm out of his room in a dramatic fashion. Instead, you silently dug into your bookbag and fished out a clear plastic case covered in blue and pink stickers, ‘Jihoon’s Sad Boy Mixtape’ written in bold black marker across the front. His heart sank as you dropped the cassette onto his navy blue sheets and turned your back to him.

Your hand rested on the cool stainless steel door. You pulled it open a crack before you paused. You knew it was unrealistic, but you had a sliver of hope he would come after you. Yet Jihoon stayed put by his desk. Alas, it was only a moment for the films. 

“Goodbye, Jihoon,” you said. 

The shake in your voice was the last straw for him, but Jihoon was too late. As he lunged after you, hand outreached, you stepped out of his room. He could hear your footsteps rushing down the hall, then slapping down the stairs of his home. 

Jihoon was always one step behind you. 

Today, he was one hundred steps behind. 

. . . .

Graduation was anything but fun. 

Standing out in the overgrown grass of the football field, the blades tinkling their ankles, with the sun beating down on them in their black gowns absorbing every ounce of heat – it was unbearable. Yet, for Jihoon, it was worse with you sitting next to him throughout the whole ceremony, not a single word falling from your lips. Your expression was unreadable: From the principal’s introduction to the class president’s fruity speech to tossing your caps in the air. At the end of it all, you silently left in search of your brother while all your classmates cheered and hugged. 

Jihoon knew better than to chase after you today, but he did anyway. He wanted to make things right – he couldn’t bear the thought of you having a grudge against him moving into the next chapter of your lives. His hand wrapped tightly around your wrist just as you neared the parking lot, Jihoon jerked your back. 

“Hey,” he greeted you. 

Your gaze only hardened, though you didn’t fight back. 

“C-can we talk?” Jihoon asked.  

“I can’t imagine what you have to say to me, Jihoon,” you said coldly. 

He didn’t either. He didn’t prepare for this, but here he was. 

“I’m . . . sorry,” Jihoon muttered. His eyes dropped to the asphalt burning under his leather shoes. “I shouldn’t have said all those horrible things to you – y-you’re . . . my friend, b-but . . .” He let out a frustrated sigh, unable to say what was on the tip of his tongue.

I like you.

It wouldn't make sense to tell you - at least not now after he told you you were annoying.

Your heart sank. As much as you wanted to forgive him then and there, your desire to save yourself from the pain of disappointment was greater. You cleared your throat and pulled your hand from his grasp. Jihoon peered up at you, melancholy clouding his eyes. 

“Congratulations, Jihoon,” you said, you pressed your lips into a tightline and looked away briefly. You saw Sooyoung and your older brother searching for you in the distance. “Good luck in college – I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Those were your last words before you walked out of Jihoon’s life. 

. . . .

Or so he thought. 

College was never a topic that either of you discussed, choosing to talk about lighter things from complaining about your math teacher to the kind of music you liked to listen to. Jihoon did not expect to see you here in the flesh, standing in front of the university student union, let alone holding hands with Wonwoo. 

“W-what are you guys doing here?” Jihoon stuttered, unable to keep his eyes off your intertwined fingers. He noticed the way you adjusted your hand to hold Wonwoo tighter. When did this happen? You and Wonwoo didn't even seem close when you did the project together. Were you friends with benefits? Dating? For how long? So many questions ran through Jihoon's mind.

“Jihoon - hey,” Wonwoo started. He tucked his free hand into the pockets of his jeans. Briefly, Wonwoo’s eyes flickered to you as if to silently ask if you were doing okay. “You go here too?”

Jihoon nodded, his eyes traveling up to your face. Though, you refused to meet his gaze, opting to stare at the pavement instead. “I do . . . uh, aerospace engineering major . . .”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened in surprise. He pointed at you. “Y/N is too.”

You already knew. You just decided to keep your distance, in hopes you could go through college without having to interact with him. That would not be the case as fate would have it. 

“Hi,” Jihoon raised his hand slowly to greet you. The corner of his lips twitched up into an awkward smile – that damned dimple on his left cheek that made your heart flutter all those months ago made an appearance, still sending your heart surging through your chest. “It’s been a while.”

Instinctively, you inched closer to Wonwoo before replying to him. “Yeah – long time, no see.”

Silence, then a beat. 

Wonwoo cleared his throat. “Uh, well, we’ll see you around then, Jihoon? We have a class soon.”

“Course,” Jihoon replied softly. Wonwoo waved 'goodbye,' while you quickly jogged to his side. A pang shot through his chest as he let out a heavy sigh.

“See you around . . . Y/N.”

i kissed a girl // logan sargeant

summary: logan should have known better than to kiss the college girl at that dive bar. especially when to the untrained eye, she looked like she had a boyfriend already

pairing: logan sargeant x female reader

warnings: bar fight, nicholas latifi gets punched in the face, miscommunication. alcohol based bad decisions. logan also gets punched once or twice. y/n isn't taking any of his shit.

making fun of him is so easy and also so much fun-

author's note: this is pure satire, this is a joke. please do not take it seriously. it’s not that deep.

please do not take this seriously.

austin, texas. october 2022.

"i'm sorry, again, about taking your seat next year."

across the booth, nicholas latifi grumbled, reaching for his beer bottle. "somebody was going to take it eventually. i just wish i'd had more time."

the drivers for the williams formula one team were sitting in the middle of a dive bar following the free practice sessions on friday morning. there was an air of unease among the group, an awkward bit of tension between logan sargeant and nicholas latifi, on edriver coming in to take the other's place.

"he doesn't even have his super license yet, mate." jack aitken shook his head. "there's still hope for you yet, i don't think jost has a backup plan."

alex albon chuckled. "good old jost. he's retiring, you know. he doens't want people knowing until the season is over."

nicky sighed softly, raising his bottle of corona. "to jost."

"to jost!" the other three drivers echoed, clinking the bottles together.

a country song roared in the background, a group of girls in tight jeans and cowboy hats gathered around a pool table, guys in tight white shirts and cowboy boots at the bar. it was the most texan joint in the whole of texas. there wasn't a single meal that didn't have red meat in it.

and that's when he saw her, out of the corner of his eye, walking into the bar in a tight denim jacket, the collar of a white buttoned shirt poking out over the top, a pair of suede booties on her feet as she shyly meandered over to the bar.

"dude," alex laughed. "she's so not your type."

"fuck off, alex." logan glowered. "i'm just lookin'."

"she looks like she'd punch him in the face if he tried to talk to her." nicky remarked.

logan rolled his eyes. "no she doesn't."

"she has that 'i hate everybody' look on her face."

"i'm settling this." logan shook his head, placing his bottle of corona back on the table. "i'm going to buy her a drink."

"and you think that's really going to work, mr. questionable family ties and cocky american charm?" jack snickered.

tuning out his teammates, logan slid out of the booth as a kid rock song began to play. the girl was alone at the bar, her muscular escort in the back playing a round of pool with some college students that he appeared to know.

clearing his throat, logan took a seat at the barstool next to her.

"that seat is taken." her voice was deeper than he expected, her texan drawl faint. "i don't appreciate it when strange men in bars, where the entire counter seating section is empty, decide to sit right next to me without asking first.

"my apologies." logan dialed up the charm, extending his arm for a handshake. "logan sargeant, future williams f1 driver."

this got her attention.

she swiveled in her seat, raising her eyebrows. her skin was washed purple under the bar lights. up close, logan was wondering if maybe she really was his type.

"i've heard about you, sargeant. you're a pay driver. williams' last hope. i know my shit, and i know that guys like you don't date girls like me."

logan leaned against the bar, trying to pretend that he couldn't hear nicholas, alex and jack laughing at him from the booth. "what do you mean 'guys like me'?"

"cocky florida frat boys who think they're entitled to everything because they have money. and i'm the quiet, independent type who was raised better than to think that dating a man with money would solve all of my problems." she smiled sweetly, playing with the straw in her soft drink. cherry coke, if logan was pressed to make a guess.

she didn't even fucking drink. and he didn't know what to say.

maybe he liked being put in his place.

or maybe he was just looking for a fight.

she laughed. "cat got your tongue, sargeant? god, you're just as shallow as i thought. the kind of television character i'd enjoy making fun of."

"who said i was looking for a relationship? even just a first date?"

"i don't do one night stands. nice try, though."

back at the booth, the other three williams drivers could hardly contain their laughter.

"look at how red he is!" nicholas latifi panted. "she really put him in his place."

alex raised an eyebrow "i think he's enjoying it a little too much, if you know what i mean."

"this has been fun, logan. you're a real charmer, even though i've done all the talking." the mystery girl said, gathering her jacket in her arms and moving to get off the barstool. "but i came here with someone, and we were actually waiting for a table to open up next door."

"is he your boyfriend? you're too good for him."

it was just supposed to be a line. but as he said it, logan was realizing that it was the truth.

"maybe he is, maybe he isn't. what's it to you?"

logan grinned. "i just think you're really pretty."

he shouldn't have done it. every synapse in his body was telling him not to do it. but impulse control and good-decision-making, especially while drunk has never been logan's forte.

so when he kissed her, he should have known there would be consequences.

for a moment, it felt like she was kissing him back. but it's not like he could explore that feeling before his body was yanked away from hers.

"who the fuck do you think you are?" the man in the muscle tank and sweats barked at the driver, who was likely only half the body weight of the tattooed muscle man standing across from him.

"look, i don't want any trouble, dude. she kissed me back!"

she rolled her eyes. "manolo, knock it off."

the bar quieted, the last bars of 'all summer long' fading out. y/n didn;t trust people who knew all the words to more than one kid rock song, and logan looked like the type who had memorized 'all summer long'. that's not to say that she didn't think it might be fun to mess around with him for a little, never going too far or getting too serious.

but the line to 'serious' had been crossed when manolo forgot that he was a family friend, not her older brother.

"no, i won't knock it off, y/n! he kissed you even after you said you were already here with someone."

"don't make a scene!"

nobody was sure who acted first.

it could have been logan, who was just trying to get his polo shirt free from manolo's fingers and accidentally headbutted the man in the arm. it could have been manolo, who'd hold on logan's shirt quickly became a punch in the jaw.

but that's when all hell broke loose.

nicky and jack jumped up from the table to try and separate the two men, just as logan threw his first punch.

nicholas latifi just happened to be the unfortunate fucker who pushed logan back when manolo retaliated, with the canadian catching a fist to the nose.

"that wasn't very nice!" he shouted, holding his now-bleeding face as alex joined the fray, pulling logan back from the italian.

"manolo, stop!" y/n shouted, standing in the middle of the fray. "let's just go."

she watched manolo leave, mumbling and huffing to himself about how men should know better than to make moves on girls who so clearly aren't interested.

not to say that y/n wasn't mildly intrigued by the florida man, but she wouldn't go as far as to say she was interested.

"sorry about manolo. he forgets his place sometimes. and you should learn yours, sargeant." she grinned. "it's at the back of a twenty car grid, bottom of the wdc. i'll see you on the big screen, pay driver."

"thanks for making my night more interesting."

"dude," alex chuckled. "you were in way over your head."

"shut up!"