you and jisung are too busy being the biggest simps for each other that neither one realizes that, well, both of you are the biggest simps for each other. or alternatively, diamonds (and park jisung) are a girl’s best friend.
pairing :: park jisung x reader
genre :: comedy, angst, fluff / best friend + rich kids + private prep school au
word count :: 30,509 words
warnings :: underage drinking, swear words, teens doing dumb things like messing with ouija boards in a cemetery and jumping down from balconies into pools pls do not try irl
playlist :: moya moya (weki meki) ⋆ 8teen (khalid) ⋆ when i fall in love (primary feat. meego & suran) ⋆ sand in your shoes, acoustic (this providence) ⋆ can’t help falling in love (kina grannis) ⋆ hey stupid, i love you (jp saxe)
author’s note :: in this fic, everyone who’s in hs is the same age and in their last year / is a hs senior! tysm @eggyukhei for being the true mvp and beta reading. this is all based on my own hs experiences and friends, minus being rich because i was a scholarship kid :’)
i. the ten year marriage pact.
You’ve managed to witness a total of five promposals already, and that’s just the count for today. The tally just keeps increasing, and prom is still three months away. However, you still make a mental reminder to yourself that you need to ask someone to your prom before all the good ones are taken. Every dance is a Sadie Hawkins dance when you go to an all-girls private preparatory school, but this also means there’s double the amount of dances or double the amount of rejection. There’s nothing more awkward and absolutely gut wrenching than asking someone from the all-boys school to prom and taking them, then finding out they took someone else to their own school’s dance. Yeojin doesn’t like to talk about it.
You barely survived all your Monday classes, and you were definitely not ready to be bombarded by the stray confetti that came out of the locker next to you. Great. A sixth promposal is in progress within your direct vicinity. There’s a cheesy love song playing from someone’s phone on maximum volume, and the girl’s boyfriend descends down the hallway carrying a large bouquet of red roses and one of those massive teddy bears you can only buy from those membership-only warehouse clubs, like Costco.
You briefly wonder how he managed to sneak past the janitors and their brigade of golf carts to set this all up before class let out. No boys are allowed on campus during school hours, but it seems like the school staff has a bit of a soft spot during prom season. Taking a fast glance at your lockermate, you can already see the obvious hearts forming in her eyes, and you quickly dart around the whole scene, making a beeline for the main entrance.
Spotting the Physical Ed. teacher monitoring today’s drive-thru pick up line, you quickly unfurl the top of your plaid skirt, previously having it rolled at the waistband to make it just the slightest bit shorter and fashionable, but also completely against uniform code. Mrs. Lee is notorious for her uniform violation pink slips, cutting each slip into the exact inches and length your skirt should be when measuring from the top of your knee and upwards. For good measure, you haphazardly shove your untucked ends of your white collared shirt under the knit v-neck sweater you’re wearing. You straighten out your sweater, tugging on the shoulder part on both sides and showing off the obnoxious golden school crest on the left side of your outerwear.
Smiling innocently when you pass by your teacher, she gives you a quick once-over before nodding in approval. Finding Jisung’s shiny BMW waiting at the end of the line, you run over and yank the car door open, slipping into the passenger seat and twisting around to quickly toss your backpack onto the backseat. Your best friend takes one look at you, and he already knows.
“Whose promposal was it this time?” He asks, tapping his fingers against the car wheel as he waits for an opening to pull out onto the street. His school uniform is messy, the striped tie and blazer probably abandoned somewhere in the backseat and the sleeves of his button down pushed up his forearms. The pair of dirty white chucks on his feet definitely aren’t uniform approved.
“The girl whose locker is next to mine,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “If this is some sort of foreshadowing toward my future, I can guarantee that I’ll never get married and will end up as some crazy cat lady like Jeno.”
“Jeno has a girlfriend now,” Jisung reminds you unhelpfully, and you shoot him a scathing look.
“Fantastic,” you say drily in a tone that indicates that his reminder is literally anything, but fantastic. “I’m gonna be a future crazy cat lady alone now.”
