well, it's finally the holidays which means morE WRITING but other than that, i thought i'd just tell you that i am in love with this request and i think i did a pretty good job with writing it. also, next week, i will be putting up a request that was made by TaesWolfie and it's gone over 3k words and i'm still writing so be prepared for that! love you all!

TSUNDERE

- in which jungkook is a cold person who likes to be alone but finds himself warming up towards the ever bubbly y/n—a girl in his class that secretly has a crush on him; requested by Ellie_pavlidou

Habitually, your gaze draws away from the complicated formula scribbled onto the board and lands on the boy seated a few rows in front of you, his arms stretching above his head in a yawn. Your lips part breathlessly as you watch the outline of his muscled arms bulge against the material of his long sleeve shirt, the bottom of said shirt rising to expose a tiny sliver of golden skin as his back arches against the chair. Swallowing thickly, you reluctantly avert your gaze to your book, fiddling around with your pen to distract yourself from his captivating attractiveness as your cheeks turn an alarming shade of pink.

The reason for your cherry blush goes by the name of Jeon Jungkook.

Boyish, charming, quiet, cold and mysterious; Jungkook is all of those things and more. While he isn't seen socialising with people or pulling off stupid stunts, his name somehow manages to be on the tips of everyone's tongues. In fact, it was through these little branches of rumours that your attention was first drawn to the boy.

At first, it was mere curiosity that spurred you on to learn more about him but that curiosity soon morphed into something more innocent and youthful in the sense that it tickled your stomach and turned your cheeks the colour of freshly bloomed cherry blossoms. Eventually, you found yourself hooked onto his presence; just the thought of him able to send you into a spiral of high pitched giggles and dreamy sighs.

And dreamy, he is.

With eyes the glimmering colour of emerald—sparkling in the light of the morning sun like a fresh sheen of morning dew—he drew people in with his entrancing stare. When he turned his head, this way and that, they caught onto the light and played tricks with anything and everything that screamed spring. And when he lifted his chiseled face with skin the colour of caramel, emerald shifted into the colour of the deep ocean shimmering in the moonlight.

In fact, his orbs could be compared to a forest, his eyes reflecting every hue while rimmed cooly with moss. Their lightness reminding you of summertime, when the sun-rays warmed each extended leaf. Next to his shade of hair, that deepest brown, he is alive in the same way birds are; casually wild.

His lips are a pale pink, the colour resembling a rose bud quite closely. His top lip is thin, but not too thin, and it has a natural cupid's bow; the bottom one being larger and more plush. You always seem to find yourself staring at them when he bites his pencil in concentration, drinks from his water bottle, or when he slyly dips his tongue out to trace over them.

If he wasn't already perfect enough, Jungkook takes pride in his physical health; the boy occasionally being spotted in the gym during his breaks. Pair his swoon worthy build with his towering height and you have yourself a complete package.

You find it odd that someone like you—a person who sits at the very end of the spectrum that he tops—likes someone as seemingly perfect as him.

You heavily sigh and rest your head upon your hand, nibbling your bottom lip as you anxiously flick your gaze back towards him.

He, however, already has his eyes on you, his green orbs sparkling with amusement as he watches your mouth fall open in a gasp, eyes widening as you suddenly find your pencil case very interesting.

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head fondly as he turns back around to focus on the work. He hardly finds it surprising, however, when his thoughts immediately drift back to you. And he isn't all that mad about it for you are, in fact, a rather interesting person to think about.

Especially when the minute you enter his thoughts, his stomach does flips and he can't contain the smile that wants to break free.

With the reluctance towards admitting that these new found reactions at the mere thought of you mean something more than just plain curiosity, he also deems himself a fool for not being able to act upon his desires.

It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just that someone as cold as him simply doesn't know how he is supposed to go about the task. He has no clue what to do in the field that many call love.

To call it love may sound like he's going too far but he knows himself well enough to comprehend what he's feeling. And, of course, he has his reasons to back it up.

Not only are you undeniably adorable and quite possibly the prettiest girl he's had the pleasure of looking at in a while, but he also admires your unspoken strength. He clearly remembers the time you got verbally abused by a few girls on your appearance and had run into the bathroom to cry. He had gotten worried about you but felt himself relaxing when you had simply walked out a few minutes later with red eyes but a confident smile. The same goes for your ignorance towards the lack of party invitations you receive and the hesitation many have towards partnering with you for a task.

He would even go as far to say that he pities you for having to put on that brave act in front of everyone. In saying that, however, he pities himself for only having the courage to envision scenarios of him comforting you when you feel pathetic or being your shoulder to cry on.

He sighs in defeat when the bell rings, the familiar sound of laptops being slammed shut and chairs scraping across the linoleum floors snapping him out of his trance. Standing up carelessly, he swings his body to the side and winces when he makes contact with something, a soft gasp and the sound of books hitting the floor making him gulp.

His foolishness has lead him to a social interaction; one of many that he had hoped to avoid.

Looking over his shoulder, his mouth opens to apologise but his words fall short when he sees you standing there, unmoving, as you look down at your books.

"Sorry," he mutters, dropping to his knees to help you pick up your belongings, his heart hammering against his chest. You shake yourself out of your sudden stupor and follow his lead, apologising profusely as you clutch your books against your chest, looking up at him when he holds your books out in front of your face.

It's his lips that make the light in the rest of the room get a little bit darker. The world stops spinning as he leans in with promise scrawled on his cupids bow. Your stomach turns over as your mind races to places you didn't know it could go until you realise you are still in maths class and anyone still lingering about could be watching. His earthy green eyes connect with yours as your world shatters, hands trembling as you grab onto your books.

"Thank you," you whisper, lowering your head as you go to leave. He hisses, the sound leaving you momentarily confused until a hand latches onto your arm. Looking over your shoulder, you frown, glancing down at the way his fingers wrap around your arm warily.

"Did you maybe want to have lunch with me? To make up for the trouble I just caused, of course," he mumbles, looking disinterested as he waits for your answer. You snicker to yourself and grin, nodding your head as he breaks out into a grin of his own, relief shining in his eyes.

He quickly returns to his usual deadpan look when he notices you staring at him with hopeful eyes.

*

"So," you croon, mindlessly pushing around the warm food on your tray with a fork, "how are you?"

It's a feeble attempt to starting up a conversation with the always silent boy; your smile easy going as he flicks his gaze up to yours, his emerald eyes brightening when he notices that you are, in fact, already looking at him.

He clears his throat with a nod, shoulders lifting up into a half-hearted shrug. You pout but accept his answer, quickly dropping your gaze down to the tray, a sigh leaving your mouth as you're suddenly stripped of your appetite.

"How are you?" His deep and melodic voice startles you, your hand clumsily dropping the fork as he watches in mild amusement, resting his head upon his hand mockingly. You puff out your cheeks and offer him a flustered smile, quickly sliding your tray to the side, missing the way his brows furrow together.

"I'm good," you reply cheerfully, batting your eyes up at him innocently. He scoffs at the action and diverts his attention to the container of food he has sitting in front of him, his eyebrows furrowing in concern yet again. You're about to ask him if everything is okay when he once again flicks his gaze up to meet yours, his eyes now darkened by vines of worry and concern, your breath hitching in your throat.

"Why aren't you eating?" His tone is scolding, your shoulders sagging in on themselves as you suddenly feel like a child; stubborn, small and occasionally obedient. He urges you to answer with a hum of persistence, his lips pressed into a stern, thin line.

"Because," you start childishly, waving away his lecture with a flick of your wrist, "the food here isn't all that appetising." And while it's only one part of your reluctance to eat, it's not like you're lying to him. Everything that comes out of the tiny cafeteria either looks like it's still alive or like it's wet cement. Besides, he barely even knows you. He doesn't need to know the full truth behind your avoidance of food.

He opens his mouth to argue but quickly shuts it once he gets a fleeting glance at the pasta on your tray. You huff teasingly when he presses his lips together and shovels a spoonful of his own food into his mouth, seemingly done with the topic, your gratitude towards that swelling with every passing second.

"Here," he suddenly sighs, sliding his container towards you as you stare at him with wide eyes, watching as he slides himself closer to you as well. "I made it this morning. Open up."

Barely even comprehending his request, you allow your mouth to open and nearly choke when he feeds you a spoonful of rice as if it's the most casual thing in the world. Chewing slowly, your cheeks turn a soft pink as he prepares another spoon, his eyes sparkling expectantly when you swallow.

"This is delicious," you praise, gladly accepting the next spoonful he presses against your lips, happily humming as he chuckles to himself. He continues to repeat this process until there's only a little bit left in the container, finishing it off under your request. He then gently meets your gaze, features soft with understanding.

"I know you may not want to eat at times for reasons other than the cafeteria food being literal shit but it's so much more healthier for you if you do. Don't risk your health for insignificant things," he lectures with a small smile, his words slipping off his tongue effortlessly, the concern and care in his tone wrapping around you like a warm hug on a winter's evening; comforting and secure.

"I will," you sigh, giving him a grateful smile as the almost sweet scent of his cologne wafts into your face. "Thank you, Jungkook-ah."

He shakes his head dismissively, heart pounding against his chest at the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth; the word never sounding prettier. Suddenly, he perks up with an idea.

"How about I walk you home today?"

Naturally, your response was yes so it shouldn't be much of a surprise to you when you see him leaning against your locker lazily, his hand dragging slowly through his hair, unaware of your gaze following his movements. Slapping lightly at your cheeks, you bite at your lip and approach your locker with a smile, wasting no more than a few seconds in grabbing your things and walking beside him to the exit.

He nervously glances down at you as he tugs at the straps on his backpack, grateful that the street the two of you walk on is empty and comfortably silent. His main goal towards asking you to walk with him was to try and figure out a way to confess to you.

Although, the more he thinks about it, the more he realises that it may be too soon to declare something like that. Besides, he'd be shitting himself if he were actually going to force himself to stand in front of you and explain his blossoming feelings when he can barely even say more than a few words to you.

Your thoughts are also circulating around the idea of confessing; each scenario you manage to come up with ending in rejection, tears and permanent humiliation. You begin to ponder on these unfortunate endings and wonder if it's just your lack of self confidence that's making you think negatively.

Who's to say that he couldn't be thinking about you now?

You're so caught up in these thoughts that you don't even realise the fact that you're about to step onto a busy street, many of the people driving down them distracted. You look up just as a car comes barreling towards you, your body paralysed as your eyes squeeze shut. You expect to feel unbearable pain, hear the sound of people screaming, calling for help and feel the cold touches of people's worrying hands.

Instead, you're greeted with warmth.

Cracking open your eyes, you stare right into a clothed chest, your body sagging with relief. Only, as you overcome your sudden state of shock, you realise that your saviour just so happens to be Jungkook, his breathing heavy as he tightens his hold around you, his familiar scent not only being your biggest clue but your reason for relaxation. Slowly pulling away, you, once again, feel small underneath his gaze.

"Stupid girl," he insults with a wavering voice, shaking you by your shoulders, "You could've been killed! What were you thinking?"

You drop your watery gaze to the grey cement beneath you, lips quivering ever so slightly. "I'm sorry."

He furrows his brows together as he studies you intently, noticing the occasional shake of your shoulders and the trembling of your hands, your chest rising and falling in irregular patterns. Wasting not another moment, he pulls you back into his embrace, resting his chin upon your head as one hand rests against the small of your back and the other pushes your head into his chest.

Clumsily, you return his embrace gratefully, thanking him for saving you under his breath.

When you pull away once more to continue walking, he gently cups your face and wipes underneath your eyes with his fingers, carefully catching a few stray tears.

"You're okay now," he reassures, deciding against crossing the road as he continues to walk straight, making sure that you're trailing behind him. However, his worry for you gets too much, the shake of your hands being the main cause of his concern.

Gulping, he slips his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers together and tugging you to his side as you accept his comfort with a tiny smile, feeling your fear disappear to be replaced by indescribable adoration.

*

Your bond with Jungkook has only strengthened since that day.

And since then, you've noticed his small attempts at taking care of you. From walking you home and bringing you lunch to reminders to get some rest and hugs when you're feeling stressed, it seems to you that Jungkook has grown a liking towards you.

Although, liking may be an understatement.

You've also noticed that he now spends most of his time with you instead of by himself. This change alone has stunned majority of his classmates and teachers, many of them sceptical of his sudden mood change.

You, on the other hand, could not be more convinced that he is perfect in every sense. In fact, sometimes you believe that he's purposely trying to push you to confess your love for him by making your stomach ache with butterflies and cheeks heat up with noticeable blushes.

And if that was his intention, he's certainly done a good job for you plan on confessing to him after school.

Nervously, you hide behind the wall, eyeing every person that walks out of his last class, just waiting until the familiar stop of your heart when he walks out to commence your plan. Just as predicted, your heart skips a beat in your chest when he walks out with a bored look on his face, lazily walking to his locker.

You wait until he's opened it to approach.

"Boo," you announce when you reach his side, laughing when he jumps a little and starts cursing you out, the fond smile on his face betraying his intimidating round of threats. He hikes his bag over his shoulder and slams his locker shut, looking at you with his eyebrows raised in expectancy.

"Can we talk? In the parking lot?" You ask timidly, smiling in reassurance when his eyebrows furrow together in worry, his nod stiff. You grab onto his wrist and navigate the two of you through the crowds of bustling students, gratefully sucking in air when you make it to the empty parking lot.

"What's up?"

"Okay," you breathe, "I thought that you might like to know that...I like you, Jungkook."

His eyes widen.

"Before you say anything, know that I really do value our friendship and if you don't feel the same way, I'll be crushed if we couldn't still be friends after it," you ramble breathlessly. "I just really wanted to tell you because I had hopes that you'd feel the same way and it was driving me crazy just keeping it to myself."

"Y/N," he sighs as you brace yourself for a rejection. "I like you too."

Now it's your turn to look stunned.

"Don't be so surprised, I made it quite obvious," he huffs childishly. "I was just too scared to tell you outright because I thought you'd reject me."

You smile in relief, unsure of where to go from here. Luckily for you, Jungkook has a pretty clear idea.

Cupping your face, he lowers himself down and meshes his lips against yours, smiling when you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss.

Pulling away with giddy smiles and eyes glistening with disbelief and affection, you and Jungkook embrace one another, his hold promising as you rest your ear above his heart, chuckling at just how fast it's racing.

You can't be laughing though as you're sure yours is going faster.

You're glad that you confessed to him but you're sure that—even though you despise waiting—you probably would've waited as long as it would've taken for him to finally be yours.