kpop writing

it’s the hopeful sounding call of your name that alerts you out of your half-awake trance, not having realised the way your eyelids began to fall shut and your head tilt forward as you dozed off, chin propped in your hand. you blink momentarily, gaze darting from one side of the room to the other as you remember your surroundings, and look up guiltily to the already deflated expression of the boy across from you, frozen in position as he stares at you with his finger still pointing to the equation on the page that he’s been teaching you to solve- or at least, trying to. 

‘please, for my sanity and mental wellbeing, tell me that you were listening to that.’ jimin already sounds like he’s lost hope, apparently knowing your answer without you even having said it yet.

‘uh.’ you hesitate, a hand coming to rub at your nape sheepishly. with an apologetic grimace, you shake your head very slightly, and jimin sits back in his seat with an exasperated groan, throwing his pen down onto the desk to instead card his fingers through his hair.

‘i’m really sorry, okay?’ you’re quick to jump in and apologise, something seeming to sink in your chest at the thought of jimin’s hard work going to nothing. ‘i should’ve been paying attention, i-‘

‘why does mr han even want us to do this, anyway?’ jimin interrupts incredulously, which isn’t entirely unwelcome, as the thought of apologising profusely to the boy who pushed you into the pool at swimming lessons when you were six and afraid of the deep end (which, no, you’re totally not still kind of salty about, because that would be totally ridiculous and irrational and you’re not that type of person- at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you fold your arms and narrow your eyes at him across the classroom) doesn’t appeal to you that much. 

jimin pauses, and you take that as an opportunity to pipe up with an answer to his (probably rhetorical, now that you think about it) question. ‘you’re smart and constantly skipping class, and i’m dumb and have been hated by mr han ever since i passed that note in his math class to ask shiah to go out with me when we were thirteen. i assume that he thinks we’re both in need of a punishment.’

there’s a silence until jimin lets out an agitated sigh, slumping back to his usual position and looking you up and down with a cocked eyebrow and a slight scoff. ‘you’re not stupid, dumbass. you’d get it if you just listened to what i’m explaining to you, for once.’ he emphasises his words by repetitively tapping at your forehead with a delicate digit, prompting a scowl on your behalf as you slap his hand away. ‘besides,’ he continues, sitting back once more. ‘why do you always fall asleep at these tutor sessions? what are you doing so late each night that you always doze off when i’m trying to teach you algebra?’ he raises an eyebrow suggestively, clearly looking to rile you up, his lips curving up in an amused smirk. ‘hm, let me see. looking at you, i’m gonna assume that you’re mega kinky, maybe into slapping-?’

‘oh, shut it, jimin.’ you quickly cut him off, speaking over him loudly. ‘i wish..’ you joke for a millisecond, before returning to your indignant expression and pointing an accusing finger at him. ‘it’s nothing like that, you perv. plus, it’s none of your business. and, from what i hear, sounds like you think about this sort of thing a lot? you sure that isn’t just you projecting your masochistic, twinky fantasies onto me, park?’ you grin teasingly, happy to have flipped the situation around.

suddenly, jimin stands from his chair, the loud scrape of his chair against the cheap flooring almost making you wince. ‘this is stupid.’ jimin announces, swiftly collecting up his belongings from the desk, but still managing to seem nonchalant, as if he’s not in a rush at all. ‘if you’re not gonna pay attention,’ he continues, beginning to head for the door with his backpack slung over one shoulder, ‘then i’m not gonna waste my time in trying. you can tell mr han why these tutor sessions aren’t gonna be happening anymore-‘

’jimin, wait!’ you hate the way your voice sounds almost desperate, and you clear your throat before continuing, seeing the way that jimin stops in his tracks. ‘i am sorry. believe it or not, i do actually wanna pass this class? not to mention, mr han will have us both put in detention if we don’t continue.’

jimin huffs a little, but turns on his heel to look across at you with disdain, clearly not interested in your excuses. ‘if you’re as committed as you say you are to passing, then why do you never pay attention? this is bullshit.’

‘fuck, jimin, it’s not. as fake as it sounds, i do have a reason as to why i stay up so late all the time, and it’s not just because i’m playing video games or some stupid shit like that.’ (it’s not always because of video games, you tell yourself. that statement is simply a white lie for the greater good.) ‘can you… give me another chance, or something? i don’t know, i’m no good at apologising. but, please?’

jimin pauses briefly, his gaze scanning over your expression as if to try and work out whether you’re being serious. ‘you’re right. you’re shit at apologising.’

‘i’ll buy you ice cream!’ you blurt out as a last resort. 

jimin pauses again, as if mulling it over. ‘two scoops?’

‘as many scoops as you want.’ 

‘…tomorrow, then. after class.’

you heave a relieved exhale as you nod, even managing to turn it into a breathy chuckle. ‘i guess no one can say no to the sweetness of ice cream, huh.’ you muse, watching as jimin’s expression morphs into a pleased grin, letting out a momentary laugh of his own. ‘yeah, i guess so. but, i think that the ice cream’s gonna taste even sweeter knowing that it’s your money being spent on it and not mine. i’ll catch you around.’ and with a final, smug remark, the door opens for a second before banging shut once more, and park jimin is gone. 

however, he’s not the only one who’s had enough.

you’re dressed in tight, ripped jeans and a tiny top. in your hand you hold a bottle of alcohol and in the other, your purse and phone. you’re heading out to go and meet your friend at a nearby nightclub.

‘you know what, hoseok? fuck you.’ your gaze burns with venom as you glare at him. ‘you don’t control me, and you never fucking will.’

‘i’m just trying-‘ he takes a step towards you, and you interrupt.

‘take one more goddamn step and i swear to you, i will scream so loudly that even your fucking whore friend over in new york will hear me.’

‘i’m trying to keep you safe! have you seen the kidnappings recently? you’re fucking crazy to want to go out tonight, this late?’ his voice increases in volume, but obediently, he doesn’t move. ‘and i swear, i don’t know who you’re talking about! you know i would never cheat, baby-‘

‘don’t fucking ‘baby’ me. i don’t want you to call me by the same name you call her.’

‘who the fuck are you talking about? i don’t understand where you got this idea from-‘

‘don’t lie to me, jung hoseok. sooin told me, she saw the messages, she saw her name in your phone-‘

‘and you trust her over me? did you ever trust me at all?’

all is quiet.

you adjust your top strap and go to head out of the door.

‘you’re going to regret this, y/n. please.’ your head whips round to see his face as you hear his voice soften. ‘don’t do this to us. i…i love you.’

all you can think about is the way he must sound the exact same when he says those words to her.

you turn on your heel, and slam the door behind you.

you’re wrong, your think as you quickly stride down the pavement in your heels. you’re fucking dumb, and i’m not gonna regret this, because why would i regret leaving someone who cheats?

little did you know, though.

little did you know that sooin, the friend you had trusted over the boy you thought you would end up marrying, had always been jealous. 

little did you know, she’d been trying to break the two of you apart from the beginning.

hoseok never cheated on you. 

and you yelled at him, and said horrible things, and all the while he just had to stand and listen to you spew utter nonsense while clenching his fists, because he loved you too much to ever lay a finger on you.

you sit on the bathroom floor, weeping, your voice too hoarse from crying to even whisper his name and beg for him to forgive you. 

no regrets, huh?

sure thing!! uwu thanks for requesting <3

‘namjoon, i can’t- i just can’t deal with this right now.’ you huffed, shrugging his hand off of your arm. ‘we can’t do this- we’re friends!’

‘we’re not just friends, and you know it.’ his tone of voice made you stop in your tracks, not turning round to face him, so you wouldnt have to see the expression of hurt you knew had shaded over his face.

‘you have her. she wants you. you want her. so go.’ your voice was cold, and bitter, reflecting the way you felt inside perfectly.

‘i don’t want her!’ he sounded exasperated, as though he’d told you this a million times- though thinking back, maybe he had. ‘why are you so jealous? one minute you act like you want me, and then the next you ignore me? y/n, please. don’t play with me like this, it’s not- it’s not fair.’

you spun on your heel, expression set in stone until your gaze met his and you saw the way his eyes shone with a haze of unshed tears. you felt yourself begin to crack.

‘please. just, choose me.’ his face was that of someone who was tired, tired and fed up, and upset- and yet, you still couldn’t allow yourself to give in.

‘joon, you know, i can’t. i can’t even tell you why, but just- believe me. i’m sorry.’ your eyes softened slightly, wanting to break it to him gently.

his lower lip wobbled slightly before he clenched his jaw shut, closing his eyes and nodding as a single tear fell from his eye. ‘okay.’ he sounded.. broken. like he’d given up, his shoulders slumped and gaze directed at the floor. ‘i trust you.’ 

you nodded slightly back, mimicking his actions. ‘thank you.’

namjoon suddenly put on a smile, shaking his head and wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. ‘it’s alright. i would do anything for you.’