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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 8 months

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A (W)Hole New Experience [M] — Kim Mingyu

✧ Because Mingyu likes big butts and he cannot lie ✧

Your husband has always had a thing for your ass. And so it’s only natural for him to want to take your sex life to the next level. The question is whether you will let him.

✧ Genre: domestic AU; SMUT [18+], fluff, established relationship, minimal plot ♥ Pairing: chubby female!reader x husband!mingyu ✧ Word count: 7.9k+ ✦ Warnings: reader is plus-size with big boobs and a big ass!, swearing, mingyu being a complete ass man, mingyu being a very loving husband, use of pet names (lots of 'baby'), mentions of alcohol, one mention of stretch marks and scars, lots of ass in this one bc well...u know ;) — pls let me know if I missed any :) ✎ Notes: 1) nsfw warnings under the cut! 2) don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with anal sex or the mention thereof!! 3) i’m thinking of maybe turning this into a little nsfw + sfw Mingyu husband series...not sure yet, but if there are people who like the idea i might. sooooo, if u do, pls let me know! ♕ Shout out: thank you @forsythe-lll for proofreading again :D love u baaaabe 💕 also thank you @ikigaisvt for getting me in my mingyu feels hehe 💋

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

nsfw warnings: big dick!mingyu, soft dom!mingyu, long-ass foreplay (no kidding, it’s long), slight manhandling, face fucking, fingering (pussy + ass), spanking, butt plug, raw sex (reader is on birth control), creampies, cum play, anal sex (pls let me know if I missed any!)

If there was one thing that hadn't changed during the course of your five year relationship, it was your husband’s infatuation with your ass. And boy did he love to remind you of that little fact any time he got the chance.

You could be in the middle of folding laundry and Mingyu would appear out of nowhere to deliver a slap to your ass because the way you'd bent had made it look “bigger and squishier”.

Or if you happened to walk up the stairs with Mingyu right behind you, you bet that he was going to make a comment about your backside one way or another – more often than not, it ended with you on your hands and knees and your cheeks sore from one of his rough spankings.

You didn't mind at all. In fact, you loved the way your husband worshiped the ground you walked on because it made you feel confident, sexy and secure in your relationship.

Still, there were times you wished that he would just tone it down a little. Why? Because his obsession with your butt wasn't just confined to the four walls of your home.

Although your mutual friends had gotten used to his extreme public displays of affection, the general public definitely hadn't.

Mingyu didn't care though.

Even in the middle of a packed grocery store, he had no problem grabbing two handfuls of your ass, which almost always earned you some dirty looks from other store-goers – especially those with children.

The man had literally no shame when it came to you and your butt and he was proud of it, which is why it hadn’t come as a total surprise when he blatantly asked you if he could fuck you in the ass during one of your at-home date nights.

Sure, you had to admit that you hadn’t expected him to ask such an intimate question when one of the main characters in the series you had been watching was about to die, but you guessed that that was just typical Mingyu behavior.

—

“You wanna put it where?!”

“Come on, baby. Think about it. You’d look so pretty with my cock stuffed in your ass,” Mingyu mumbled, his large hands slowly sliding down to your soft ass before giving it a firm squeeze.

“Yeah, but have you seen yourself, Gyu? That thing is huge” you emphasized, holding up your index fingers to demonstrate just how big he was.

“And you love it,” he smirked, grabbing onto one of your fingers to place a gentle kiss onto it. “Don’t pretend like you’re not begging me to fuck you stupid every single time.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks at his blatant statement. It was true though. You loved your husband’s big dick and he never failed to give you the most toe-curling, bone-shattering orgasms whenever the two of you shared an intimate moment.

“I’m not. It’s just...my ass is different. I don’t feel like being split open and not being able to walk properly for days,” you sighed.

“Since when has that ever stopped you?” Mingyu snickered before teasingly brushing his soft lips over the smooth skin of your exposed neck.

“Gyu…” you whined, knowing exactly what he was doing. Only you decided that you weren’t going to let him win this time.

“Okay okay, I won’t bring it up again,” he chuckled. “But, if you change your mind...”

You giggled at the puppy eyes he was giving you. “You’ll be the first to know.”

—

That was about two months ago. Being the perfect and respectful husband he was, Mingyu stayed true to his words and hadn’t brought up the topic again. Despite that, you couldn’t deny that his question hadn’t made you at least a little bit curious.

The truth was, prior to that moment, the thought of engaging in anal sex had oddly enough never even crossed your mind. You had always just assumed that it was something you weren’t into based on the porn you’d come across and the horror stories several of your friends had shared with you.

But as the weeks passed, you couldn’t seem to erase the idea from your mind. Ever so often, you caught yourself imagining what it would feel like to have Mingyu’s thick long digits stretch your ass open, in particular during the moments he was knuckle-deep inside your pussy to prepare you for his big cock. Even at times where your husband had you bent over for him while he was roughly pounding into you from behind, your mind sporadically flashed with images of him doing the same thing to your ass.

And although the thought of trying to fit Mingyu’s dick inside your ass seemed like an impossible task, you were also aware that if you ever wanted to try it, your husband would do anything in his power to make the experience as comfortable and as pleasurable for you as possible.

Regardless of that, you still felt apprehensive about the whole thing.

Well, that was until the topic had spontaneously come up during your monthly drinks with two of your best friends, Sora and Yumi – Wonwoo and Jeonghan’s wives.

—

“You’ve never done anal?!” Sora gasped rather loudly, earning a bunch of judgmental and confused looks from the other customers.

“Yah! Do you want the whole bar to know my business or what?” you hissed, obviously embarrassed by her sudden outburst. Announcing to the entire bar that you’d never been fucked in the ass was not on your to-do list tonight.

“Sorry, I was just a little shocked. I mean, we all know Mingyu loves your ass, so we just assumed that...you know,” she mumbled with a slight shrug.

You let out a sigh before you took another sip from your cocktail. “Yeah, well. We haven’t. He asked, but I wasn’t sure. He’s...big.”

Yumi laughed at your final statement. “Trust me, you’re missing out on something, Y/N.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me then, Yumi?” you mused, looking at her expectantly.

“Well, I think I’ve had some of my best orgasms from doing anal with Hannie. Like, not even kidding, the leg-shaking, mind-numbing kind that makes you want to pass out from how good it is,” she exclaimed.

Sora nodded in agreement. “I second that. Wonwoo makes me squirt like crazy whenever he fucks my ass.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you chuckled, suddenly feeling a little less apprehensive about the idea after hearing their positive experiences. “I guess I have been thinking about it a lot these past few weeks,” you continued, feeling comfortable enough to share that piece of information with them.

“And you want to try it?” Yumi questioned.

“I guess, but…”

“But what? You’re afraid he’s going to split you apart?” Sora giggled. “Wonwoo has a big dick too, you know? And I’m still alive.”

You just rolled your eyes at her goofiness. But you had to give it to her...she did have a point.

“Anyway,” Yumi started. “What Sora is trying to say is that if it’s done right and with someone you trust, it can be the best thing ever.”

“Exactly. There’s nothing to be afraid of, especially not when you have someone like Mingyu to take care of you. Forget all the bad stories you’ve heard. It’s different for everyone anyways,” Sora joined in.

Yumi nodded. “Right. And the most important thing is that you’re doing it because you want to do it. If you’re trying to force yourself, it will only be uncomfortable for the both of you.”

“Okay, so let’s say I want to try it, right? I still wouldn’t even know where to start or how to bring it up to Gyu,” you sighed, throwing your head back in frustration before reaching for your drink again.

“Well, then you’re in luck, because you have two best friends who can teach you all about it,” Yumi smirked. “What do you say? You in?”

How could you not be when they were offering their help?

You finally let out a breathy chuckle before nodding your head. “Yes, I’m in. Please teach me everything you know.”

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Sora grinned as she rubbed her hands together in excitement. “Now the real talk can begin.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Yumi said, a similar grin adorning her face.

What the hell did you just agree to?

“So,” she continued before leaning a little closer to you, “let’s start with butt plugs.”

“Oh god.”

—

That’s how you ended up where you were, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a towel covering your damp body and the toy you’d recently bought clutched tightly in your left hand.

“Gyu?”

“Just a second, baby. I’m playing with the guys,” your husband responded, his eyes glued to the large TV screen on the wall.

“Gyu,” you called again – you couldn’t care less about the game he was playing and you bet that he’d forget about it the moment he noticed the state you were in.

“Baby, I t-holy shit!” Your husband’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as you stepped into his vision, your towel now thrown aside to give him a full view of your plump body.

“Dude, what’s going on there?” Seungcheol’s confused voice sounded through the headset Mingyu was wearing.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go,” he responded, his eyes hungrily raking over your naked form and in particular the purple butt plug you were holding in your hand. When did you get that?

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“We’re literally in the middle of a match!” Wonwoo added, seemingly unhappy with his friend’s lack of focus.

But Mingyu had already made up his mind. “It’s gonna have to be without me. Something urgent came up.”

And before his friends even had the chance to rebut, he’d turned off the TV and flung his headset to the side, his figure already stalking up to you with a determination that sent a wave of tingles down your spine and right to your pussy.

“What’s all of this, baby?” Mingyu couldn’t help but grab two handfuls of your ass, fingers digging greedily into your soft flesh – his dick instantly hardened at the filthy thoughts that invaded his mind.

You grinned widely, already loving the effect you were having on your husband. Usually, he was the one riling you up and getting you all flustered for him, so it was nice to know that you could get the same reaction out of him from time to time.

“Thought I’d surprise you for a change.”

“Well, fuck,” he breathed, one of his hands reaching for the hand that was holding onto the toy. “Does this mean what I think it does?” he asked as he held up your wrist, licking his lips as he inspected the spade shaped object.

“Hmm, why don’t you take me to the bedroom and find out for yourself?”

Mingyu didn’t need any further encouragement. As soon as you’d finished your sentence, he was already dragging you up the stairs and into your spacious bedroom. You just let him, feeling excitement bubbling in your stomach at the prospect of what was about to come.

A squeal left your lips as he not-so-gently pushed you onto the bed, which was followed by him quickly crawling in between your legs to cage you in. You watched in anticipation as your eager husband pinned your hands above your head, his dark eyes boring into your own for a few seconds before he shifted his gaze to the object you were holding.

“Have you been using this on yourself?” he questioned, gently plucking it from your hand.

Your mouth opened as you were about to answer him, but the only sound you ended up producing was a choked moan when you felt the cold tip of the toy come into contact with your hardened nipple.

“Answer me,” Mingyu’s demanding voice echoed through the room.

“Y-Yes. Wanted to be ready for your cock,” you mumbled, your walls fluttering with need as he lightly tapped the plug against your sensitive bud.

Mingyu let out a low groan at that. “God, you’re such a naughty girl.”

You could only hum in response, too focused on the way he was trailing the toy down your chest, every little touch spreading heat through your body from head to toe.

“So, while I was at work, you were stuffing your pretty ass with this?” He stilled the toy right above your belly button.

“Gyu,” you whined, wanting to cover your face with your hands at the slight embarrassment you were feeling from his bold question. Unfortunately for you, your husband still had your wrists pinned to the bed, making it impossible for you to hide from his intense gaze.

He just smirked, enjoying the way your body squirmed in his hold. “Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. How did it feel, hmm?” he asked, leaning in slightly to nip at your pouty bottom lip.

“Was big, but so good,” you finally breathed, knowing that he wasn’t going to let you go without an answer.

“Yeah?” he mumbled, pulling back a little so that he could look into your eyes. “And now you can’t get enough? You want my cock in your tight little hole?”

You could only moan in response, your eyes closing as you remembered how full you’d felt with that butt plug up your ass and how fast you’d been able to make yourself cum. If that was any indication of what you’d experience with your husband’s cock filling you up, you were more than excited to try this.

“I need you to say it, baby,” Mingyu mumbled into your ear, his deep voice sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin.

“Need you to fuck my ass,” you whimpered, any embarrassment you were feeling having been thrown out the window.

“Fuck. Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“What made you change your mind?” he asked, wanting to be absolutely sure that you were doing this because you actually wanted to do this and not just to please him. Though the latter was highly unlikely – because you were by no means a people pleaser and perfectly capable of saying no to something you weren’t comfortable with – it was a big step and Mingyu needed to know that you were going to be okay at the end of it.

“Just Sora...and Yumi,” you said, referring to your two best friends who had provided you with everything you needed to know.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you can thank them later,” you smiled, finally able to wrap your arms around his neck now that he’d let go of your wrists.

“Are you really sure about this though?” Mingyu frowned, a concerned look taking over his features.

“Gyu, I’m not backing out. I’ve never been more sure about anything,” you assured him, moving one of your hands to cup his cheek.

“Okay,” he started, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “if that’s what my beautiful wife wishes, who am I to deny her?”

He then leaned back in, his breath tickling your face with how close he was. It made you weak with want for the man and he hadn’t even properly touched you yet.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you breathed, returning his smile with your own as you curiously awaited his next move, your eyes never straying from his blazing dark brown orbs.

“I’ll take good care of you, baby,” was the last thing he mumbled before he eagerly pressed his lips to yours. You let out a surprised moan in response, a shiver running down your spine at the sudden intensity of his actions.

In contrast to the sweet words he’d mumbled only moments ago, his lips were anything but that. They were hungry and forceful, his wet tongue dipping inside your mouth insistently as he tried to drown in the taste of you.

His hands moved with equal eagerness as they roamed your body, pulling and kneading your skin with his large warm hands. And you were more than happy to let him. If there was anyone who knew your body best, anyone who knew how to make you crumble with only a simple touch, it would be Mingyu. After years of practice, he had your body mapped out like a professional, from your scars to your stretch marks, to your moles and your beautiful curves. He loved it all and he had no intention of letting you forget about that – as if you ever could with the way he worshiped your body every day.

Everything about the man was intoxicating and it was getting more difficult to think as your mind swirled with arousal. You tried to find something to ground yourself with, but with every kiss and with every touch of his expert fingers sliding across your skin, you felt yourself float further and further away from reality.

It didn’t take long before you had turned into a needy puddle, your pussy throbbing with desire and your mind drunk on the feeling of Mingyu’s electric touches.

You whined out in protest when he detached himself from your bruised lips, but he was quick to shut you up. His lips continued a path down your body, his tongue flicking out to give some teasing licks as he went before coming to a stop at your chest. You watched with anticipation as your husband ran his tongue across his bottom lip, a starved look in his eyes that you recognized all too well.

In the blink of an eye, he had his face buried into your tits with a loud groan, hungrily nipping at the soft squishy skin with his sharp teeth while one of his hands squeezed whatever he couldn’t fit into his mouth. Your body’s automatic response was to arch into it, only wanting more, your own hands desperately tugging at his shirt as you felt yourself getting impatient at the pace with which you were going.

Your husband grinned as he slowly retreated, opting to pinch one of your hardened buds. “Aren’t you a needy little thing?”

“M-Mingyu,” you whimpered, shuddering from the sudden wave of pain mixed with pleasure that coursed through your body. “Please.”

“I’m just calling it as I see it, baby,” he teased, his grin morphing into a devilish smirk as he keened at the sight of you begging for him.

“Don’t t-tease me.”

“Then tell me what you want, baby.”

“Want your clothes off,” you mumbled, reaching up once again to tug at the white t-shirt he had on.

But Mingyu wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet. “And what else?”

“Wanna suck your cock.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna let me fuck that sweet little mouth of yours?” he questioned, his dick twitching in his pants as he imagined your pretty lips wrapped around his length.

The moan you let out at his question sounded like music to his ears. “Yes, wanna make you feel good.”

Your husband knew that you loved his dick, especially when he used your mouth to get himself off – the sloppier and messier, the better. It always had your pussy dripping for him by the end of it and if Mingyu loved one thing, it was the sound of your squelching pussy as he fucked into you. He’d be crazy to refuse such a tempting offer from his eager wife.

His cock was in your hand as soon as he’d gotten rid of all his clothes, your skillful fingers gliding up and down his length at an agonizing pace. Your burning eyes followed every twitch in your husband’s facial expression. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly opened and his breath coming out in sharp gasps as you teased him. In your eyes, there was nothing more arousing than knowing you were making him feel good.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he hissed when you unexpectedly stuck out your tongue to catch a drop of precum that escaped from his tip.

“But it is so fun,” you smiled innocently, knowing damn well what you were doing.

Of course Mingyu, who was very familiar with your games by now, saw right through that. “You’re really asking for it, hmm? How about you open up and let me fuck that attitude right out of you? Is that what you want?”

“Fuck,” you gasped, your head suddenly pulled back by the hand that had made its way into your hair. You could already feel the slick seeping out of your needy cunt, slowly messing up your inner thighs as you watched your husband grab onto the base of his fat cock.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he ordered, tapping his tip on your bottom lip, the salty taste of his precum invading your taste buds.

You reacted almost immediately, opening your mouth wide and extending your tongue, ready to take all of him now that you’d had a little taste of him. Mingyu couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at your willingness. He felt a sense of pride at the fact that only he got to ever see you like this, on your knees, practically begging for his cock with those alluring eyes of yours.

Mingyu watched with hungry eyes as your pretty lips stretched around his aching erection, inch after inch of his cock disappearing into your wet and hot mouth. Even after all these years, it was a sight that he could never get tired of. It was just so good. And you took everything he gave you with such ease. It was as if your mouth was made for him and only him, a perfect match made in heaven.

You let out a muffled moan when you felt the tip hit the back of your mouth, feeling completely and utterly full with nearly his entire length stuffed down your throat. Your husband's dick was heavy on your tongue, but oh so heavenly. And the combination of the stretch, the fullness and the faint taste of salty precum was enough to send your mind reeling and your pussy dripping with lust.

“Holy fuck,” Mingyu exclaimed with a gasp, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of your hot tongue rubbing along the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock. “Such a good girl, taking me in like that.”

That earned another moan from you. Mingyu shuddered at the vibrations it sent through his cock, his hips bucking involuntarily as he pushed another inch down your throat.

You gagged in response, your eyes instantly watering from the unexpected move.

The way Mingyu loosened his grip on your hair told you that he was about to pull back, no doubt to ask you if you were okay. But you stopped him, your fingernails digging into his upper thighs to prevent him from moving and your eyes signaling him that you were more than okay.

And you really were. With a cock as big as your husband's, choking was not uncommon and although it had taken some time to get used to it, you'd come to love it, even to the point where it only made you that much wetter for him. Mingyu was well aware of that fact, but he couldn't help but check on you when it happened, always putting your well-being before his pleasure.

That's why you decided to encourage him a little bit more by letting him feel just how 'okay' you were.

While maintaining eye contact with your husband, you took a deep breath through your nose and hollowed your cheeks before sucking. Hard. So hard that it made Mingyu see stars for just a brief moment.

“Shit!” he hissed just as you applied some pressure to one of his sensitive spots with your tongue. “Okay, okay, I get it. You're fine. Fucking hell.”

And apparently, that was all the reassurance Mingyu needed because he almost immediately began moving his hips in rhythm with your head, using the grip he had on your hair to push himself further and further down your throat with every thrust.

Little by little, Mingyu could feel himself start to succumb to his desire, his body completely overtaken by lust as he used your mouth to chase his own high. It didn't take long before he was full on fucking your face, pushing at the back of your head with an urgency that matched the building desire inside him. Pleasure coursed through him with every movement, the sensation of your tight mouth sucking him in only adding to the intensity.

“Shit, baby. You look so fucking hot,” Mingyu groaned, tightening his grip on your hair. You were an absolute mess, with that fucked out look on your face, saliva spilling from both sides of your mouth and your cheeks wet from the tears that had fallen down in the process. He thought you looked absolutely ravishing and it only made him want to ruin your just that much more.

You absolutely loved this side of your husband and you were more than happy to let him use you however he pleased if it meant you got to see him like this from time to time. The way you were drooling all over his cock and the way you were now frantically pumping your fingers into your dripping cunt was more than enough proof that you were enjoying every second of it.

“Fuck. Are you touching yourself, baby?” Mingyu grunted, now able to hear the familiar squelching sounds as you continuously plunged your fingers into your sopping pussy.

The muffled whimper you let out in response nearly sent your husband into a frenzy. To know that you were touching yourself even though he couldn't see it was enough to make him go feral. He started to lose control of his movements, becoming more and more erratic with every flick of your tongue and every squeeze of your lips, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

You were in a similar position, feeling the coil in your stomach getting tighter with every pump of your fingers, so you knew that it wouldn’t take much longer for you to reach your peak.

But then right before either of you had the chance to cum, he pulled you off his spit-covered cock and roughly pushed you onto your back, spreading your legs wide open.

“Mingyu wha-oh fuck!” you yelled, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Mingyu's thick digits replaced your own. From the moment he'd slid them between your slippery walls, he was all over you – his free hand roaming over your curves and his mouth back to nipping at your squishy breasts.

It took him only seconds to find your spot and then he was moving, thrusting his fingers at a pace that made you lose all functioning.

“Gyu, r-right there,” you mewled, completely succumbing to the pleasure your husband was giving you. “C-Cum-ing!”

“Cum for me, baby. Want you to cream all over my hand,” he urged, his mouth glued to your smooth neck as his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot, determined to make you cum.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, finally letting go with a cry of your husband’s name, your walls tightly clenching around his fingers as you trembled beneath him.

“Good girl,” Mingyu mumbled, slowing down his movements before they finally came to a stop. Your body felt like jelly as you watched him pull out and clean his slick-covered fingers with his tongue. “Fucking sweet like always,” he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips into a messy kiss that made you moan into his mouth.

“I wanted your cum though,” you pouted after he’d pulled away, his chin now glistening from the drool that had dribbled down your chin during his assault on your throat.

Your husband could only chuckle at your sulky attitude, loving how you could sound so cute but so naughty at the same time. “Patience, baby. I’m saving it for your pretty little holes.”

“Then do something,” you whined, eyeing his glistening hard cock.

“Yeah? You ready for this then?” he asked, picking up the discarded butt plug from the other side of the bed. You quickly nodded, biting your lip in excitement.

Mingyu turned his body and reached into the drawer of the nightstand to grab the lube, and as you watched him coat two of his fingers in the substance, it suddenly dawned on you that you were really about to let your husband play with your ass. Honestly, it made you more than a little nervous.

“Gyu?”

“Yes, baby?” he responded, his eyes turning soft when he noticed the slight tremble in your voice.

“Just go easy on me, okay?”

He leaned in to place a soft kiss onto your lips, followed by another and another until you slowly felt yourself start to relax again. “I will, baby. Trust me.”

“I trust you,” you mumbled. You did. You trusted your husband with anything and this was no different. You wanted this and you wanted to do this with him.

Mingyu, who was satisfied with your reaction, took that as an invitation to continue. “Ass up for me, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You were on your hands and knees within seconds, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to touch you.

Shivers shot through your body when Mingyu’s hands finally made contact with your skin. He gently slid one of his hands up the bare skin of your plush thigh, while the other slid in between your plump ass cheeks.

Your body jerked at the feeling of your husband’scold finger pressing against your puckered rim. He slowly circled it around your hole for a few seconds, letting you get used to it, before carefully dipping it inside.

You gasped at the familiar yet strange feeling. It wasn’t like you hadn’t fingered yourself there before, but with Mingyu doing it, it felt like a whole new experience. He was going easy on you though, slowly pushing his finger deeper inside you, trying to stretch you around his thick digit. His other hand had moved to your hip, softly squeezing your skin to help you stay calm.

It was tight, much tighter than when you’d used your own fingers, but the lube definitely made it easier for Mingyu to slide his finger back and forth between your tense walls.

“You good?” Mingyu’s soothing voice suddenly sounded in your right ear, his finger stilling momentarily.

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder as you tried to comprehend what he’d said, your mind already slightly hazy from the finger that was knuckle-deep inside your ass. “Mhmm, so good. Need more, Gyu,” you begged, your voice raw with need.

Your husband took that as a sign to add another finger. Pulling back his hand, he gently pushed another one of his lubed digits past your rim, letting it join the one that was already in your ass. You slightly tensed up at the new feeling, your breathing coming out in soft gasps as you tried to relax your body.

It took a few reassuring kisses to your shoulder and a bit more lube before Mingyu was able to move his two fingers in a scissoring motion without much resistance. He couldn’t believe that you were actually letting him do this. It was everything he could have wanted and more. Just the sight of your tight hole stretching around his fingers was enough to have his dick twitching with wanton desire.

“Still good?” he asked again when he realized that you hadn’t made a sound in a while.

You nodded frantically, surprising him by pushing yourself back against his hand. “F-Fuck, yes. Don’t stop, Gyu.”

Mingyu groaned, pleased with your response. “You’re doing so well for me,” he said, his eyes focusing on the fingers that you were currently fucking yourself on. “I’m gonna add another,” he announced, reaching for the lube again with his free hand.

This time, the stretch was even bigger. You had to grasp onto the sheets to ground yourself, a strangled moan leaving your lips at the new intrusion. Mingyu was quick to take your mind off the pain, leaning in to whisper words of encouragement into your ear, and brushing his lips across your skin as he slowly fucked three of his fingers into you.

Without you realizing it, your husband had picked up the butt plug again. He softly brought it down onto your skin and started to trail it down your back, all the way until it it came to a stop on your ass cheek. “You ready for some more?” Mingyu asked after a while, lightly tapping the toy against your skin, your ass now stretched perfectly to fit his digits.

“Please...want it,” you whimpered, now realizing that he was talking about the butt plug. Mingyu placed one final kiss onto your neck before pulling away. Slowly, he retreated his fingers, causing you to groan at the empty feeling it left behind.

The sound of lube being squeezed out of the tube caught your attention, and pretty soon, your body was shuddering at the feeling of the cold substance being rubbed all over your hole.

Your breathing hitched as Mingyu placed the lubed-up plug against your ass, teasingly sliding it up and down your crack to prepare you for what was about to come. You lowered yourself to the bed, burying your face in the sheets when you felt Mingyu start to apply some pressure. Once again, the stretch was intense and you couldn’t help but moan out loud at the odd but enjoyable sensation, your hand moving down to your clit for some extra stimulation.

Mingyu was in his own world, watching with fascination as your hole slowly stretched around the purple toy, trying to accommodate its size. He was gripping onto your ass cheek with his other hand for dear life, afraid he was going to lose it if he didn’t have something to hold on to.

His dick was throbbing, back to leaking large beads of precum at the sight below him. “Shit, baby. If only you could see yourself taking it so well...fuck,” he groaned, tightening his grip on your ass when he finally managed to pop the whole thing inside you.

You cursed, taking a few deep breaths to get used to the feeling of the smooth toy filling you up. It felt good, so damn good that you were pretty sure it wouldn’t take much to get you to cum again.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you moaned, wiggling your ass when Mingyu suddenly tugged at the toy. This was followed by a loud smack and then a stinging pain on your left ass cheek, the plug shifting slightly as your body jerked at the impact.

Mingyu nearly creamed himself at the way your soft ass jiggled as a result. “You’re such a good girl for me.” Another slap was delivered to your ass, which elicited a whimper from you. “Wanna fuck you so hard.”

The thought of having Mingyu fuck your pussy with the butt plug still snug inside your tight ass made your walls flutter in excitement. “Please,” you begged, wiggling your ass again since you knew what effect that had on your husband. “Fuck my pussy...want it,” you whined.

Just as you expected, your husband took the bait, never needing much convincing when it came to you. He was quick to grab a hold of his dick, giving it a few hard strokes before guiding it to your leaking cunt.

“Gonna fuck you stupid. You want that, don’t you?” Mingyu’s words came out as a question, but both of you knew that that was exactly what you wanted. His grip tightened on your ass, fingers digging into your supple flesh as he teased your slit.

“Yes! Want you to fuck me stupid,” you nearly cried, desperate for some friction. “Please, need it so bad I-ah!” Without any warning, your husband slid the entirety of his cock inside your pussy, your slick walls sucking him right in with how wet you were.

“Oh god!” The feeling was almost surreal, the warmth of Mingyu’s pulsating cock contrasting with the coolness and smoothness of the plug lodged in your ass. It was the fullest you’d ever been and in this position, you were able to feel everything – every ridge, every curve, every vein. You felt like you were going to burst any minute now if he didn’t move soon.

Mingyu seemed to be thinking the exact same thing. He only pulled back slightly before slamming every inch of his cock back in with rough force. You couldn’t do anything but surrender and cry out in pleasure as your husband pounded your sweet pussy.

The sensation of being stretched from within both holes was overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. You absolutely reeled in the feeling, pleasure clouding your mind and your eyes watering at the continuous stimulation that coursed through your body. Very quickly, you could feel your climax building within you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again as Mingyu’s cock thrust into your sopping wet cunt over and over again.

Mingyu wasn’t doing much better, his own release approaching fast with how tight your walls were gripping onto his cock. That, plus the additional pressure from the purple toy that was still sitting snug inside your ass was only adding to the tension building up inside him, his balls constricting with every thrust.

“Shit shit shit! You’re so tight,” he moaned, his eyes fixated on the way your ass jiggled with every slap of flesh hitting flesh, your pussy squelching with each movement. You couldn’t get a word out, completely out of it as Mingyu increased his pace, only going faster and harder. “Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

At the same time, he applied some pressure on the plug, pushing it just a little deeper inside. You trembled at the extra stimulation, your eyes slowly rolling to the back of your head as you exploded around your husband with a cry of his name.

Mingyu came right after, his own orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks. A loud groan rolled off his lips as he filled you up with his thick warm cum, marking you as his own as he let himself get lost in the feeling of your warm wet pussy spasming around his cock.

Both of you were panting and covered in sweat by the time he stilled. You whined softly as your husband slipped his cock out, already feeling some of his cum start to drizzle out of your cunt.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, leaning himself over your back to look at your face, which was still half buried in the sheets.

“I’m better than that. Felt so full,” you breathed, your legs still shaking from the incredible experience. You were actually hoping that he was ready for some more. “Are you…?” you trailed off, looking up at him with big eyes in the hope that he would know what you were trying to get at.

“Am I what?” he mused, a small grin making its way onto his face. “I didn’t fuck you stupid enough, hmm?”

“You did, but...you know? I need you in my ass,” you replied, moving your hips back to bump against his front.

Mingyu took a deep breath through his nose as he moved back, his hands returning to your ass before delivering another loud smack to both cheeks. “Fuck, woman. You’re insatiable.” You whimpered in response, your ass clenching around the smooth toy. He then chuckled, sliding his hands down to your thick thighs. “But that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

You let Mingyu reposition you, pulling you onto your hands and knees and lifting your ass up a little higher before running one of his hands over the toy. The movement caused the plug to move slightly, stretching your rim just a little bit more as pleasure shot through you.

“Shit,” you gasped, feeling a sudden increase of pressure as you felt him grab a hold of the plug. Slowly, he began to retreat it, careful not to hurt you as it popped out of your shivering body. Mingyu was quick to throw it to the side, taking a few seconds to massage your cheeks and admire the mess the two of you had created. He ran two of his fingers through your folds to scoop up some of his cum that had seeped out of your pussy before rubbing it around your rim.

The sight drove Mingyu crazy, your hole covered in lube and remnants of his and your own arousal, completely ready for him to ruin. He reached for the lube again, this time applying a generous amount to his cock.

You hissed at the coldness of the gel as your husband’s lube-covered tip was placed against your puffy ring, arousal already starting to cloud your mind again.

“You sure you can handle it, baby? My dick is so much bigger than your little toy,” Mingyu’s concerned voice sounded through the room.

“Yes! Fuck me...please, just fuck me,” you begged, not caring about how desperate or needy you sounded at that moment. All you knew was that you needed to feel your husband’s cock inside your ass. And it needed to happen now.

Mingyu could barely contain himself the moment his tip slid past your puckeredrim. It was like he was transported to another dimension, stars appearing in front of his eyes as he basked in the feeling of your walls squeezing him.

“God! So. Fucking. Tight,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth, his hips slowly pressing forward to push more of cock inside.

“Oh my-fuck!” you whimpered, almost feeling as if you were being ripped apart with Mingyu’s fat cock forcing its way between your walls. It was unlike anything you’d felt before, slightly uncomfortable but certainly not unpleasant. And he’d definitely been right though. That butt plug was nothing compared to his cock. He was huge and you were nothing but a whimpering mess as you took every single inch until he bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass.

“Breathe for me, baby,” Mingyu mumbled, rubbing soothing circles into your sides as he let you get familiar with the sensations.

“You feel so big,” you whined softly, doing as he instructed before taking some deep breaths to bring down your heart rate. “Can’t believe you’re in my ass.”

“I can’t believe you let me have your juicy ass,” Mingyu grunted as he slowly began to move, gently easing you into it. “ You’re so fucking sexy, you have no idea.”

Your body jolted at the feeling of Mingyu’s fingers making contact with your throbbing clit after he’d draped himself across your back. The unexpected action was a welcome distraction from the slight pain and you found that it instantly made you relax a bit more with each gentle thrust that followed.

As soon as he started to draw circles into your sensitive nub, you felt a change in your body. The discomfort slowly ebbed away, now replaced by little jolts of pleasure that shot through your form. Your head was thrown back in response, your breath coming out in small whines as you relished in the feeling.

“Fuck!” you mewled, fisting the sheets between your hands as your husband slid two of his fingers inside your dripping pussy, immediately curling them up to locate your most sensitive spot.

“Okay?” Mingyu asked, a little smirk on his face at the way you were enjoying his cock in your ass.

You could only moan at his question, too fucked out to formulate a proper response just as his fingertips rubbed against that sweet spot inside you. Mingyu took that opportunity to speed up the pace, fucking you harder and using a little bit more force with every thrust until the familiar sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin resonated through the room.

It wasn’t long before you were clinging onto your husband, both of his strong arms holding you up as he forcefully pounded into you, your tits practically bouncing in your face with every rough motion. You were just as eager, clenching around his cock and desperately slamming your ass back to try and match his pace.

Mingyu felt like he was losing it. He was close, so close and he wished he could hold out longer. But you were so fucking tight, he just couldn’t help himself. Any minute and he was going to shoot his load.

“You c-close?” He slightly sped up the movement of his hands, wanting you to cum with him, to feel you trembling in his arms as you came undone for him.

“So close, Gyu! Don’t stop!” you cried, digging your nails into the skin of his toned arms. You couldn’t keep up anymore. With Mingyu speeding up his thrusts and his fingers deep inside your cunt, you were completely putty in his hands, so close to cumming that it felt as if you were about to blow.

“Fuuuck!” Mingyu finally snapped with a loud moan, thrusting his hips forcefully a few more times before he came hard, shuddering from the impact of the immense pleasure that took over him – no doubt the hardest he’d ever come.

The feeling of warm spurts of his cum covering your walls was what sent you over the edge. You gasped, a chorus of moans rolling off your lips as white momentarily flashed before your eyes, your legs automatically clenching shut at the intense stimulation.

Both of you collapsed on the bed right after, Mingyu’s now-softening cock slowly slipping out of you. He immediately took you in his arms, placing one of his hands onto your ass to deliver a small tap to it.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, rubbing your back with the other.

“Perfect,” you smiled, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Everything was perfect,” you added, moving in to kiss his pouty lips.

He smirked, a sudden thought invading his mind. “How’s your ass?”

“My ass is on fire,” you pouted, the statement causing your husband to laugh. “Gyu! Stop laughing, I’m serious!”

“I warned you,” he replied, his smirk now replaced by an amused smile as he teasingly squeezed your plump ass cheek.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, knowing that he was right. “But, I have no regrets.”

“Not a single one?”

“Not a single one,” you confirmed, running your hand through his disheveled hair.

“Does that mean I get to fuck your ass again tomorrow?”

You looked at him as if he’d just grown two heads. Was he actually serious right now?

“Gyu. I just told you my ass is on fire!”

“I could always kiss it better,” he grinned, sticking out his tongue before giving you a sneaky wink.

“You horny idiot,” you giggled, playfully slapping the side of his head.

“But I’m your horny idiot,” he emphasized, squeezing you tighter against him.

“Yes, you are,” you smiled, allowing yourself to melt into his touch.

And really, you wouldn’t have wanted it to be any other way. Yes, even if it meant walking around with a sore ass from time to time.

© All right reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!

THE END!! Hope you enjoyed this little Mingyu fic. And again a reminder: if you would be interested in a little nsfw/sfw series with husband!mingyu and chubby female!reader, pls let me know 🙏

Also, if you enjoyed my work, please consider reblogging/commenting/sending me an ask. It would mean a lot to me 🫶🥺

☀ if you want to be added to my PERMANENT tag list for upcoming works (MAINLY NSFW, SO 18+), leave a comment below or send me an ask, but be sure to mention PERMANENT TAG LIST if you choose to send an ask! If you wish to be removed, also send me an ask!

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ker0senebunny · 2 years

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walking on a string✫*ﾟ･ﾟ

steve harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader

part two -- after much anticipation, PART TWO IS HERE!

summary: steve leads on cheerleader!reader, thinking that her affection is insincere. after all, he’s a loser now. what could she possibly want from him? (angst, fluff)

warnings: language, angst, fluff, no use of y/n, afab!reader, fem!reader, un-beta'd, all characters are 18+

word count: 2,787

notes: ahh my first fic!! this is inspired by the song walking on a string :)) also steve is a lil insecure n angsty because the duffer brothers apparently won't let him express his insecurities or trauma!! so i did that. he deserves a hug and i hope our cheerleader!reader can give that to him. i have a part 2 lined up so lmk if u would wanna see that!! enjoy xox

p.s. i may or may not have finished editing this while dyeing my hair

i think about you walking on a string.

it always brings me back here.

you had been to family video every day that week (so far), and for steve harrington, that was weird. mega weird.

steve had always noticed you at parties, even if you weren't directly looking at him. you would come in with a troupe of cheerleaders, the hairspray practically sliding off of them in waves. you emerged from the cloud of crunchy hair and denim jackets with a softness that only you could possess. you looked as if you were made of gossamer - silken and perfect.

but that was when he was king steve: someone more worthy of you. someone who meant something. now, he’s just steve who works at family video and parents six children in his spare time.

so yeah. all your light touches and eyes skating across his lips was definitely all in his head.

that week, you'd come into family video at least five times. and every time, you asked to see steve. even if he was in the back, you would wait for him in front of the counter, drumming your manicured nails on the smudgy surface, looking around with wide, innocent eyes. today, you'd come to actually return a tape. you left him notes whenever you returned a tape, always signed with your name and a cloud of hearts. he swore he could smell your perfume on the paper.

it all started after the mall burned down. when you walked in to that miserable family video store, steve didn’t even notice you. “welcome to family video, how can i-” he droned, flipping through a magazine. he’d been working there for barely two weeks and he was already sick of it. at least he got free ice cream at scoops. all he had here was...keith. what made it even worse was the fact that robin was sick on this particular day. something about a "totally rancid stomach bug." steve shuddered just thinking about it. so now, he had nobody to banter with to pass the time. “steve?” you said, surprise evident in your open smile. his head snapped up immediately and was met with your gentle eyes.

“hi,” he breathed out.

“hi,” you gave in a giggly reply.

it was silent for a little bit. you were holding pretty in pink in your manicured hand. before he could ask you if that’s all you wanted, your hand that wasn't holding the tape was over his, squeezing it with every ounce of comfort you could transfer to him. “i heard about the fire at the mall. i’m so, so sorry that happened to you. it must’ve been so scary!”

he couldn’t tell if you were fucking with him. after all, you were still socially relevant in this dismal little town. he was the horror story told to incoming freshmen, a story of failure.

his gaze skirted around your pretty face; he saw part of the cheer squad waiting in a car outside. they were looking inside the store not so conspicuously and giggling. his eyes narrowed. yeah, he knew he was right; why would you be talking to him?

“yeah, well, at least i still have a job,” he quipped sarcastically. the scent emanating from your soft skin and your cardigan was making him dizzy. he found himself in a rush to get you away from him as soon as possible. he wanted to avoid whatever humiliation could be coming next. “will that be all?” he gestured to the tape. you seemed startled as you removed your hand from his. he already craved the warmth you gave him. “oh, yeah! i’m sorry to bring that up, by the way. i just wanted to make sure that you’re doing alright.” he hummed and registered the rental in the system, trying to ignore your presence less than a foot away from him. “just return it next friday,” he said, already turning back to his magazine. he felt a little bad, sure, because out of the corner of his eye, he could see you deflate. you became a little more subdued because of him. his dad was right - nobody wanted to be around him.

he hadn’t even realized that he’d zoned out until your fingers brushed against his once again.

you seemed to notice the shift in him, though, and the tender smile returned to your face as you took the tape from his hands. “it was really nice seeing you, steve. i’ve missed you,” you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek and slipping out the door. he was left mid page-turn, plump lips agape.

and of course robin wasn’t there to see it.

you were the current co-head cheerleader at hawkins. you were chrissy cunningham’s best friend. you were the top of the pyramid, all tiny crop tops and skirts that showed the cusp of your ass. you smelled like jasmine and citrus and god, were you pretty. supple skin, graceful eyelashes, a lush mouth. steve knew that you most definitely tasted like sweet almond cookies, soft on his tongue. he knew that you rented pretty in pink almost every friday, when he thought you would be partying. he knew that you were too good for him. so why the hell did you keep coming in to talk to him?

for weeks after that, you returned every friday to rent pretty in pink. you always stayed to talk with steve, and he felt his hard exterior start to slip away. you laughed at all his dumb jokes, even staying past closing to keep him company as he reorganized the incoming tapes. you brought him lunch with lovey-dovey notes that he definitely didn’t store in his wallet. he invited you over for movie nights — a weekly occurrence for the two of you. he’d even introduced you to his gaggle of freshmen. but in the back of his mind, he knew that you were just pulling him along on a frail string — and it was surely about to snap.

but even through all of that, coming in five times in one week was a lot.

the bell at the door jingled, taking steve out of his reverie. it was getting colder in hawkins — the last of the nice weather before the bitter chill of winter set in.

he took a breath and slid himself behind the counter as he saw you walk in. he could’ve sworn that you perked up, chin rising and hair shifting to show off your kissable neck as you fluttered over. stop it, he commanded himself in his head.

you smiled as you approached him, a sheen to your cheeks and the slope of your nose. “hi, steve,” you said, a little breathless. the light bent around you in a way that gave you a natural glow. steve could swear that he heard a choir singing somewhere. he shook himself into the present. “hey sweetheart, what’s up?” he said, reminding himself to play it cool. be neutral. you looked down, hands flattening your white skirt. you suddenly felt your cheeks warm. “i was just wondering if you’re going to be at the pep rally next week?” you looked so hopeful, standing on your tippytoes to lean over the counter. steve could see the tops of your tits as they threatened to spill out of your pink scoop-neck top.

he was shocked that he, steve harrington, new resident nothing of hawkins, was being asked out by the prettiest girl in his deadbeat town. this had to be some sort of sick joke that nicole and amanda put you up to. he smirked at you, plan in motion. if you wanted to play it that way with all the tiny tops and touching and the way you smell like apricot scrub…well, he’s getting off topic. the point is, steve harrington needed to play you right back.

“yeah, of course i’ll be there.”

he winced behind his smile. you beamed up at him.

into the garden, by the hand.

you’ve always had me,

walking on a string.

you were co-head cheerleader, that was true. but you also had a hopelessly huge crush on steve harrington, something your friends teased you over a lot. especially chelsea. the only person who ever defended you was chrissy, your best friend. chrissy always placed your hand in hers as a motion of comfort, a crinkle in between her brows as she told the cheer squad to, “back off! it’s not like bradley dunkirk is any better.” the other girls tittered in laughter as chelsea hid her flaming cheeks in her pompoms. you shook your head at chelsea and chrissy’s repartee as your eyes searched the bleachers. it was the day of the pep rally — the positively perfect time to show off your cheering prowess. your skirt was hiked up a little extra; your top was your smaller one from sophomore year that made your boobs perk up and almost overflow through the v-cut.

your pompoms wilted in your clammy hands as you scanned the gym, searching for that swoon-worthy warm grin and floppy hair. you eventually spotted him mouthing something to robin. they laughed through their own secret language and you felt a sinking pressure descend on your chest.

but then robin said something, gesturing toward you with a nod of her head. he looked up and over, eyes alert and looking for someone. his gaze rested on you, a pensive neutrality washed over his face. you rustled your pompoms playfully at him as you smiled, skirt swinging and exposing more of your thighs. steve swallowed as he saw the fabric rise, but then he just gave you a polite, closed-lip smile and looked back at robin, who was gesturing wildly at him.

your pompoms drooped and you frowned. he’d been weird the entire week, avoiding you, brushing off your coy smiles and flirty touches. you were overjoyed that he came and were looking forward to seeing his cute little dimples, but he didn’t seem to want anything to do with you. you sagged in your tennis shoes until chrissy tapped your shoulder and signaled that it was time to start.

your routine went perfectly. but as you stood on your teammates' shoulders and smiled at the roaring crowd, your mind was elsewhere. steve was clapping for you, but his eyes didn’t hold the usual mirth that they did. you thought that the two of you were building up to something. he couldn’t be that dense, you thought to yourself. surely all the love notes and smiles and jokes made him realize that you liked him. a lot. a LOT a lot. at the very least, you thought you were friends.

you’d liked steve since freshman year. you were barely a teenager, a fresh-faced fourteen year old who sucked her braces when she was nervous. you saw him in the parking lot, all boyish smiles and strong hands. you immediately liked the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. they crinkled, but they stayed open — so that he could still take in the face of whoever he was speaking with. you liked that he was considerate, that he held the library door open for you even as his date rolled his eyes for “helping a stupid little frosh.” you disappeared into the background for that first year, as you watched his life collapse in on itself.

but then sophomore year came and you blossomed. chrissy cunningham was in your english class. you two were partnered up to read a scene from macbeth and couldn’t do it without laughing. you knew that day, that she was going to be your best friend. then, the two of you were suddenly trying out for cheer. you got your braces taken off. your hair and a new healthy shine to it. people looked your way as you walked arm in arm with chrissy, ponytails bouncing in unison.

you’d always been afraid to speak to steve. sure, he was nicer than most popular kids (to you, at least) — but he was just so cute. and that made it all the more impossible to approach him. you remember how you felt your heart clench after you heard he and nancy broke up. he seemed to really love her, but a selfish part of you itched at the chance to have your shot.

that summer, when he was working at the mall, you barely had the courage to step inside scoops ahoy, even though amanda and bridget begged you to go with them. you knew robin from your history class. she was funny and sweet and a welcome surprise as you stepped into the ice cream shop. you walked up to the counter with a sway in your hips that ensured that people looked at your ass in those tiny denim cutoffs. you, robin, and your friends joked for a bit about your upcoming senior year. they were discussing something about a new culture club song when you looked to your right.

steve was laying on the charm while serving two girls from your school. you felt your stomach twist in jealousy. you looked at your sweet red converse and didn’t even notice robin asking for your order. you blinked at her and smiled, asking for strawberry in a cone. you and your friends moved toward where steve was. he gave you a small smile and looked you up and down, before going right back to flirting.

you liked him from afar; that was the extent of your relationship with steve. up until now, you’d only made small talk with him at parties. but you liked him because of how you saw him interact with others, especially that dustin kid.

you were heartbroken to think that the past few months of work visits and move nights (during which his arm would venture around your shoulder) didn’t mean anything to him. you saw him talking to robin off in a corner, and putting on a brave face, bounced over to the two of them.

“hi robs!” you chirped. she smiled at you and yelled your name as you approached from across the gym, miming pompoms in her hands. “nice cheering,” she said with a wink. you giggled in embarrassment and looked down at your frilly socks. “nice…playing?” you said. she laughed, but steve stood silently. robin looked between the two of you before muttering something about a girl named vickie.

you stood in front of steve now. he couldn’t help but think about how cute you looked in your uniform, glowing after a successful pep rally.

“hi stevie,” you said. he flushed at your nickname, something that you’d given him a few weeks ago after noticing a similar flush appear when you used it in passing.

“hey sweetheart,” he said, not looking you in the eye. you transferred your pompoms to one hand and reached the other out to gently grasp at his fingers. he let you.

“what’s going on? are you okay?” you asked sweetly. the dark part of steve, the part that convinced him that you were just leading him on, told him that you were faking it. that you were just here to make fun of him in front of his ex-classmates who already did the same behind his back. but here you were, face to face, looking at him with worry and your jasmine scent and pretty lips. he sighed out your name; you could detect the disappointment.

“i know what you’re doing.”

you looked at him in confusion, still holding his hand. you stepped closer to him and could smell his lemongrass shampoo. “stevie,” you said softly, “what do you mean?”

“i know your friends put you up to this,” he said harshly. something akin to hurt flickered across your face, but you replaced it immediately with your usual gentle disposition. “put me up to what?” you prompted softly. he rolled his eyes and huffed, pulling his hand away from you. this time, you let the hurt show on your face.

“i know that you and your friends wanted to fuck with me by pretending that you liked me,” he said finally, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows. you looked utterly crestfallen. your heart ached at the possibility that steve could think that your affection was anything but sincere. “no, stevie, please-“ you started, but he cut you off. “i know that i’m just this has-been cool kid who’s good for nothing, but i’m still a person. and i won’t be dragged around on your little string anymore. i’m done.”

if you looked crestfallen before, you looked absolutely crushed right now.

steve desperately wished that he could suck his words from the air around you and never let them see the light of day. but from the look on your face, he knew there was no going back now.

your eyes tickled and burned as wetness blurred your vision. it hurt you more than anything to know that steve thought so little of you. the boy you’d do anything for, go anywhere for, thought that this was all a game to you. you tried to swallow around the lump in your throat, your next words coming out cracked: “steve, i promise it’s not like that.” he scoffed.

“then tell me why your friends sit outside of the video store and watch us and fucking laugh at me?”

your heart stopped then. it broke you, knowing that steve thought so little of himself and you. “steve, they’re laughing at me! because i never stop talking about you because-“ you stopped, not knowing whether you should even bother to tell him now. with a shaky breath, you continued: “because i like you so goddamn much.”

he looked at you strangely then, watching the tears finally begin their path along your cheeks. “save it. i’m done.” the gym was empty now; everyone had left during your conversation. he looked at you, all dolled up in a green little cheerleading costume, a yellow ribbon threaded through the back of your ponytail. he tried to ignore the wetness on your face and the pitiful tremble of your bottom lip. he tried to memorize the color of your lipgloss and how it sparkled under the dimming sun and fluorescent lights. he looked at you and tried his best to keep himself from falling for you. he turned to walk out of the gym doors. as his reeboks squeaked across the lacquered hardwood, steve thought about running back to you and kissing you until he heard his favorite laugh bubble up out of your chest. he heard a sob rip its way out of your throat and in a moment of weakness, he turned around to see you drop your cute little pompoms and raise your hands to your face to hide your tears.

© ker0senebunny. all rights reserved. all original posts of writing are my own words, with the exceptions of quotations from songs, movies, and other media. my work is NOT to be crossposted to another platform, copied by anyone, or translated without my express and explicit permission.

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#steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things #steve harrington drabble #cheerleader!reader

5K notes · View notes

santaasi · 1 month

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DANCE WITH ME

pairing: jj maybank x dancer!fem!reader

summary: jj maybank loves the sea, the sandy beach of north carolina and the warm sun. new york is the exact opposite of all this. and he hates it. but she... she changes everything.

warnings: new york au, fluff, slight angst (as usual), but happy ending, miscommunication trope, a little use of y/n, some language, english is not my first language

word count: 5.9k

a/n: first of all, thank u all for supporting my first two works here. I rly couldn’t have expected so much love and support from all of u, but i appreciate it. secondly, I can't write summaries, so i think it sounds kinda shitty. thirdly, it was supposed to be a small blurb, but I was carried away and I couldn't stop. and fourthly, I listened to Slaves - Body on Fire and Katy Perry - Wide Awake while writing this oneshot, so I advise everyone to do the same.

The huge theater hall of the New York School of the Fine Arts was getting more crowded and noisier by the second. People dressed in ridiculously posh suits, as if they had come to a reception at Buckingham Palace, took their seats and from time to time looked askance at the two guys sitting in one of the front rows.

In particular, all those present, as it seemed to JJ himself, looked at him with special disapproval interest. Compared to this bunch of rich bastards who had nothing to do on Thursday night except watch their ‘creatively gifted’ children jumping around the stage in tutus, he looked like a black sheep in his dark jeans, a white T-shirt with unwashed ketchup stains and a cap on. He looked like a total looser, who had missed his shift at a godforsaken restaurant in the Bronx only to watch his best friend’s new girlfriend performance, while everyone around him was showing off their wealth and position. Showing JJ his place.

JJ Maybank had no place in this money-rotten world. And he knew it perfectly well.

And why was he sitting here then?

Just as simple as it is. Because of John Booker Routledge. JJ Maybank adored his best friend. No, not best friend. JJ Maybank adored his brother, John B., who saved him from an abusive and alcoholic father, allowing him to move into his small flat in the Bronx and gave him a chance to make a fresh start.

John B. Routledge was always there for JJ. They spent all the happy and sad moments together, supporting and helping each other. And Maybank, in gratitude for everything, was ready to do anything for John B. Absolutely anything.

That's why he was now sitting in a maroon-upholstered theater chair, waiting for the start of a ballet performance in which John B's new girlfriend, Sarah, had the main role, and felt all these rich jerks staring at him. And it annoyed him.

He was annoyed by all these vain idiots and how they always looked down on guys like John and J, who had to literally fight for their lives in this huge city, while those rich bastards were drinking prosecco on the veranda of their Soho estate.

He was annoyed by the kids of these jerks who studied at these luxurious art schools, a semester in which cost so much that JJ could live happily on this money for five years or even more.

He was annoyed by whole this situation, which literally screamed: “Look at us! We have a lot of money that we spend on stupid school performances, so that our kids would think they're talented.”

JJ Maybank was not envious. It was just that he, a man who had worked his whole life in order not to starve, did not perceive all this creative entertainments as something serious at all. He didn't go to theaters, operas, ballets and the like. For him, it was stupid shows to launder money from these rich peeps. And JJ wouldn't be sitting in this chair waiting for the play to start if it wasn't for John B. John B., who needed his support in this fashionable enemy lair.

Exhaling irritably, catching another look of disgust from some elderly lady in furs, J took off his cap and ran fingers through his blond hair, turning to John B., who was looking at the curtains and tapping his feet on the floor.

“I'm going to take a leak and smoke, okay, John?" JJ patted him on the shoulder before getting up from his seat and heading out of the hall. John just nodded without taking his eyes off the stage.

This guy was obsessed with Sarah. And it's not that JJ didn't understand what his best mate found in a pretty blonde girl, it's just... it's just that Maybank never thought that John B would be all lovey-dovey with some chick that was completely out of his league. Although Routledge always had freer views in this rich/poor hierarchy, while JJ was sure that all the kids born with a golden spoon in their mouths were stuck up bitches not worth his attention.

Of course, Sarah Cameron proved the opposite. As they would say in North Carolina, she was kook on the outside, but a true pogue in her heart. But, as Maybank believed, this was a one-in-a-million exception.

JJ was walking along a bright corridor, trying to find the exit, when he caught a barely audible melodie. The guy followed the sound, looking through the glass in the slightly ajar door leading to a bright, spacious ballroom with large panoramic windows and ballet bars. In the middle of the sunset-drenched hall stood a young girl, who sometimes came with Sarah to hang out with John and JJ, but he never paid enough attention to her.

More precisely, she was too out of reach for a guy like JJ, to pay her attention that he wanted to. She was kind, sincere, her smile could light up, it seemed, the whole world. She always laughed at his jokes, even the dumbest ones. The mere touch of her fingers on his skin made JJ burn as if he were being immersed in a flaming cauldron of hell.

She was incredibly smart, funny and breathtakingly beautiful. Just the sight of her in a small summer dress made everything in front of his eyes fade, leaving only her. She was too perfect in his eyes, like an angel descending from heaven to torment him, JJ Maybank, showing him what he could never have. Making him hate his position and his life. Making him envious of these dumb rich assholes. Because she was too good for a bad guy like JJ Maybank.

And now, looking at her fragile frame, watching the elegant swings of her hands, perfectly honed movements and the flight of her hair from each new spin, JJ's heart in the chest was treacherously squeezed with delight. His breathing, as well as time, stopped, and it seemed to the guy as if the world had stopped too, leaving only her in his field of vision. Neat facial features, flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, gaze concentrated on the mirror, but as if looking into another dimension. She looked beautiful, flawless... No, she looked divine.

JJ didn't know how long he had been standing in the hallway looking at Sarah Cameron's friend. But as soon as the music ended, and she ran her hand over her hot face, pushing back the hair stuck to her skin. As soon as she raised a bottle of water to her lips taking a couple of sips. And as soon as her gaze fell on the guy on the other side of the door. Maybank immediately came out of his entranced state, feeling caught and ashamed.

Turning around on his heels, JJ walked swiftly to the exit, still feeling his heart beating in his chest at breakneck speed, and her gentle image rises before his eyes. A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin. And again the hand is in the air. Jump… Spin… The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand…

The cold February wind hit him in the face and without even thinking, the guy lit a cigarette, looking into the void.

He hated New York and the cold of the city. He missed North Carolina. Kildare with its warm sun and sandy beaches. The smell of the sea, the sound of waves and surfing…

Why is he even thinking about the Outer Banks now, three years after he left without even once looking back…?

JJ Maybank did not return to that room full of these loaded bastards, steeped in luxury and affectation. Instead, he lowered his head and got to their shared apartment on the outskirts of the Bronx, where the rats and the crazy granny neighbor who was always bothering him for nothing were waiting for him.

But for the first time in three years, JJ Maybank didn't care about any of this. He was still standing in that hallway. He looked through the glass at the sunlit room.

A wave of the hand. Jump. Spin.

And again. Her hand is in the air... Jump… Spin…

The music is like the sound of the sea... Her eyes are like warm sand… And her light smile, like the warm sun of Kildare…

JJ Maybank fell in love.

If someone had told him six months ago that his heart would beat a thousand beats per minute just by looking at her, or that when talking to her, he would not be able to find more than one suitable word and would only stand and watch her giggle softly at his reaction... He would have laughed in the man's face. Because JJ Maybank doesn't fall in love. He spends one night with a girl and forgets about her in the morning. He takes napkins with numbers he will never call and throws them in the nearest trash can.

JJ Maybank is not made for relationships. He does not get attached and cannot love. But for some reason, he feels differently with her.

JJ Maybank fell in love.

And if six months ago he would have been told that he would work two shifts to buy himself a white dress shirt and a pair of decent trousers just to sit in a maroon velvet armchair among rich pompous bastards and watch her dance on stage... Watch how she transforms in her dance, becoming even more beautiful... Watch her every move, every curve of her body and the soft rise of her hands just to catch the smallest changes on her flawless face…

And then, meet her in the hall with a bouquet of her favorite tulips in his hands, for which he borrowed money from John B., just to see her smile like Kildare's sun and hear her laugh that reminds him of waves crashing on the shore.

JJ Maybank fell head over heels in love with her.

And it was obvious to everyone as a clear day.

John B. saw his friend's pupils turn into two big throbbing hearts when he saw her. John B. saw how JJ, who had always been confident around the girls, turned into a small helpless puppy who could not utter a single word as soon as she appeared next to him. John B. noticed how his best friend's life changed dramatically with the arrival of her in JJ's life.

JJ Maybank's life, which previously consisted only of home, work and a couple of weekend parties, now consisted only of work and meetings with her after which he went back to work.

Sarah wasn't blind to the changes in JJ's behavior either. The first time she saw him on the steps of the NYAFA, she thought that something had happened to John B., but when she realized that Maybank was not waiting for her, but for her friend, everything immediately fell into place. JJ's frequent appearance at performances at the academy, even when John B. did not go to them, the flowers that changed every three days in their shared with Y/N house, his questions about her best friend's preferences and many other things finally made sense.

Therefore, at her birthday party, Sarah decided to be a wingman and do everything possible to connect loving hearts. After all, Cameron did not escape the reactions from Y/N, who too often began to ask questions about JJ, who began to devote more time to her appearance and blushed every time Sarah mentioned only the name of the blonde.

Now JJ was sitting at a table in the Cameron's house backyard in Soho, which was decorated with sparkling lights in honor of the birthday girl, and stirring a glass of brandy in his hand. His gaze was once again focused only on her, dancing with Sarah on an improvised dance floor to some Latin music. The skirt of her white dress was like sea foam rising and falling with her every movement, and her ringing laughter made his heart skip a beat. During the four months of his addiction to her, it became a habitual body reaction for him.

JJ chuckled as he drained the rest of the brandy before lifting his head and meeting her glittering, emerald-like eyes. Her cheeks were red and her lips stretched into a wide smile. The guy saw how her chest quickly fell and rose after active dancing. The girl tilted her head slightly, bringing a red cup with drink to her lips before sitting down next to Maybank.

“Are you enjoying the party, Jay?" the girl teased. Her velvety voice carried like an electric current through his body before Maybank turned his head in her direction.

“Rather enjoying the view,” JJ grinned, winking at her, making the poor girl blush. She giggled softly and rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him lightly on the shoulder.

“I'm serious, by the way. You look tired,” the girl murmured and a line appeared between her brows. “And lately, I- I rarely see you.”

JJ's heart skipped a beat at the thought that she was worried about him and a corners of his mouth lifted. He sat closure to her, putting his hand on the back of her chair, looking straight into her doe-eyes. The girl felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs by the very sight of that self-confident grin and the look into those deep blue eyes. J's hand softly touched her cheek as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The girl sucked in a loud breath and involuntarily leaned into his touch.

“You shouldn't bother that pretty little head of yours with worries about me, princess,” the guy whispered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself.”

“And what if I want to take care of you...” the girl said in a barely audible voice, swallowing a lump in her throat.

She could feel her heart about to burst out when JJ slightly closed the distance between them. His lips were unbearably close to hers and she felt his hot breath burning her skin, and his hand continued to gently stroke her cheek. She had never wanted to kiss someone so much in her life.

For the past four months, all she could think about was the guy who came to her every performance when even her parents weren't there. The guy who meets her every night from rehearsals and asks her about her day. The guy who gives her his hoodie when she gets cold. The guy who brings her a bouquet of her favorite tulips every three days and leaves cute notes inside that she keeps in a shoe box under the bed.

Before JJ Maybank, all her thoughts were occupied only with dancing, which she lived and breathed, rehearsals, preparations for concerts and dreams of Broadway.

Now everything that surrounded her: a fresh bouquet of tulips in the kitchen, a blue hoodie with the smell of the sea in her closet, notes in a box under her bed and even the music she danced to - reminds her of him. She thinks about JJ when she wakes up and when she fall asleep. When she's dancing, when she's choosing music for a new performance, when she's walking, when she's reading, when she's resting. She thinks about JJ Maybank, about his light soft disheveled hair, about his blue eyes in which she could drown, about the smell of the salty sea that seemed to soak into his skin, constantly.

And now that he was so close to her, when he touched her face and looked at her with such tenderness, all she wanted to do was pull him closer and kiss him. But instead she swallowed, barely breaking away from him as Sarah's voice shattered their little vacuum world. Maybank cursed softly, running his hand through his hair before looking back at the girl who had already got up from her seat, preparing to head towards Sarah.

“Will you dance with me when I'm done with her?" A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she turned around halfway, looking hopefully at the guy.

JJ was taken aback. He wanted to agree. He wanted to say that he would be happy to dance with her, but... but he couldn't dance. And he was ashamed to admit it to someone for whom dancing was hers whole life. And he didn't want their first dance to be a complete failure just because he was a fool who couldn't move his bear paws and didn't know where to put his hands and how to behave properly and…

“Mhm. I'm already leaving. I have a night shift, so… Maybe another time?” the guy said distantly and shrugged, getting up from his chair.

Meeting her gaze, which literally screamed disappointment and that his answer hurt her, J immediately regretted his words and wanted to return them, but it was too late. The girl faked a smile and nodded.

“Then... maybe... another time? See ya, Jay,” she said finally and disappeared into the crowd, trying to suppress the tears that are starting to fill her eyes.

"Yeah… next time," the guy echoed, watching her move further away from him.

JJ Maybank was head over heels in love.

And even though he wasn't a genius before, he was a complete fool now.

Three weeks later, her dreams and her heart were broken. Three weeks after Sarah's birthday, she realized that all of JJ's feelings for her were just her own delusions.

At first, they just started seeing each other less often. He no longer met her after rehearsals, as he took extra shifts at work, but still sent her flowers every three days. He messaged her every day asking how her day was and how she was feeling, told her funny stories from work on their evenings phone calls and everything seemed fine. But after two weeks, all their communication came to naught. She offered to meet a couple of times, but JJ refused, saying that he had a job and as soon as his co-worker will recover from his unexpected illness, they would definitely meet.

And she believed him. And waited.

Until one day she saw JJ Maybank with a cup of coffee in his hand, strolling down Lexington Avenue smiling at a dark-haired girl, so beautiful as if she had stepped off the cover of vogue magazine when, according to him, he was supposed to be at work.

And at that moment, her whole world seemed to collapse.

She knew that she had no rights to the guy, that he had promised her nothing. And she understood perfectly well that they were not in a relationship, and that in fact he could spend his time with anyone. But her heart beat painfully in her chest from the realization that all those sweet and meaningful moments with him were now just nothing.

All those notes, flowers, late-night calls and conversations, that almost kiss - were now nothing and it broke her heart.

But the worst thing about this situation was the realization that instead of talking, JJ just decided to ignore her and ghost her, coming up with stupid excuses not to see her.

Maybe she did something wrong? Or maybe some of her words hurt him? Or was she too clingy? A lot of questions were spinning in the girl's head, but all she could do was lock herself in her room and cry, glad that Sarah had gone to her family for a couple of days. She didn't want to discuss this topic with anyone, not even with her best friend.

From that day on, she stopped texting JJ in the morning and calling in the evenings when she returned from rehearsals. She stopped opening the door to the courier, who continued to bring her flowers from him. And she hid his hoodie, smelling of the sea, away in the closet. She cut JJ Maybank out of her life, devoting herself to dancing, shutting herself off from the world around her.

At first, JJ did not notice that the girl had pulled away from him, immersed in her business and work.

More precisely, he noticed that she no longer wrote or called him after training, but for the first three days he attributed it to her busy schedule. Maybank remembered that she had mentioned preparing for an audition for a Broadway troupe, and thought that was what she was doing. But when he hadn't heard from her for a week, he got worried.

To tell the truth, JJ has been restless all week. He was so used to her presence in his life, to her morning messages that gave him energy for the whole day, to her evening calls and laughter on the phone that made his soul feel better, that the absence of these small moments felt like emptiness. Like a black corridor with no exit.

And JJ started writing to her himself, but he didn't get a reply. Then he started calling her, but all the calls were forwarded to the voicemail. He went to the academy, but he never saw her. And eventually he met Sarah, who was also completely unaware.

“Since I came from my parents, she hasn't been herself,” Sarah admitted, biting her lip, frowning slightly. “She hardly talks to me, she's always rehearsing, and it's like she's dropped out of life. I do not know what's wrong with her, JJ.”

Because of the whole situation, JJ Maybank couldn't live fully.

He continued to write to her, call her, even wrote letters by hand, as in those romantic films that she loved so much, throwing them under her door, but he never received an answer. Not a single response in a month.

He had been living without her in his life for a whole fucking month, and if before he was sure that he was in love with her, now JJ Maybank was a thousand percent sure that he loved her to the point of insanity and physical pain.

He wanted to hear her laugh every day. He wanted to wake up and see her smile and sparkling eyes first. He wanted to listen to her endless chatter about her favorite actors, singers and dancers. He wanted to watch her dance, watch how her soul seemed to rise somewhere higher, to where he had no access. He wanted to watch her laugh, blush, cry, be sad or angry for the rest of his life.

JJ Maybank wanted to spend his whole life with her. Because she is life itself. She is the ocean, the sound of waves, wet sand and warm sun. She's Kildare. She's his home.

And JJ Maybank wasn't going to give up on that. Not today. Not now. Never.

The sun had long sunk below the horizon. It was raining like hell, and even if JJ had an umbrella, it definitely wouldn't have saved him. No one could hide from the spring rains of New York.

JJ was standing under a tree near the entrance to the Academy of Fine Arts, waiting for her.

Today, JJ will solve all their problems and confess his feelings to her. No matter the weather, no matter her mood, or even the meteor shower, he will do everything to make her listen to him. And if after that she decides that she doesn't want to see him, then he will leave her life forever. But if, for once in his life, luck would be on his side, and she reciprocates, then... then he will never let her go.

The big front door opened and Y/N walked out of the building, lifting her head up, looking at the sky. JJ froze for a second, watching as she lifted her backpack over her head and walked down the marble steps so beautiful and elegant. He hadn't seen her for almost a month and a half, and now that she was so close to him, all thoughts and intentions left his head. And just like the first time they met, he could only look at her and enjoy the view. But as soon as her foot hit the sidewalk and she headed for the bus stop, JJ came out of his hiding place calling her name.

The girl stopped halfway, slowly looking over her shoulder at the blond man approaching her. The world stopped around her in a second. She felt her knees ready to buckle, and her heart began to beat a painfully familiar accelerated rhythm. But before her feelings could fully grasp her again, the girl pulled herself together and turned away, swiftly walking away from him.

“No, wait! We need to talk!" JJ shouted through the noise of the rain, starting to run, catching her by the forearm and turning her towards him. The girl's eyes widened when his hand touched the bare skin of her forearm and her whole body felt like it was on fire.

“Let me go,” she said coldly, and JJ was a little taken aback, but did not let go of her hands, shaking his head negatively. He won't leave until he's sorted it out. He needed answers. And he needed her even more.

“I won't let you go until you tell me what's the matter with you"

The girl stared at the guy in shock, and then laughed out loud, throwing her head back, lowering the bag, as her hand was tired of holding it over her head. Raindrops immediately began to roll down her face and hair, drenching her to the skin in a second.

“Are you serious? What's the matter? You tell me what's the matter, JJ! Tired of your new doll and you decided to come back to me again, huh?”

Her eyes sparkled with the fire of anger, burning a hole in the uncomprehending JJ. She was furious and it was the first time he had seen her like this and did not understand what he had done to arouse such reaction in her. Her bag fell to the sidewalk and she came closer, lifting her head a little higher, looking straight into his eyes.

“What? Did you also play with her, made her feel needed, desired, and then dumped her? Yeah, Maybank? Did you do the same to her?”

She pulled her hand out of his grasp and pushed her palms into his chest. The guy staggered, but remained standing in place, frowning, watching her eyes fill with tears. Or was it just the rain?

“Why aren't you saying anything? Answer me! Did you do the same to her as you did to me?" The girl roared in his face, pushing him in the chest once more before taking a step back, shaking her head.

She turned away for a couple of seconds, gathering her thoughts. JJ heard her sniffle and felt his heart clench with pain. He didn't understand what she was angry about, who she was talking about and what she wanted him to say. Maybank wanted to pull her closer to him and calm her down, to tell her that everything would be fine and that they could work it out, but he was too overwhelmed by everything that was happening and couldn't even move.

“You know, I believed that you really liked me. I believed that for the first time in my life, someone liked me, and not Sarah or one of my friends, but you...” she sniffled again, wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I-I really believed you… Why didn't you tell me you weren't interested in me? Why didn't you say you didn't want to talk to me? Why did you make up excuses that you were working or-”

“Excuses? I was really working. I took extra shifts and I-” finally realizing the reality of the situation, JJ began to speak, but she immediately interrupted him, throwing a look full of pain and resentment.

“I saw you and that girl coming out of the coffee shop together when you said you were going to work!" She exclaimed, covering her face with her hands, running her fingers through her dump hair.

JJ rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out what she meant, which girl she was talking about, until he remembered Brittany, his dance coach. He signed up for dance classes a month ago. Was it really all because of that? Was she ignoring him because she thought he was just having fun with her? No, no, she couldn't have thought that.…

“Hey, hey, no, it's all not what it seems,” the guy shook his head, taking a step forward, reaching for her hands, removing them from her face, squeezing them in his own.

His eyes scanned her face. The mascara flowed from moisture and tears, the eyes were slightly reddened, and the nose was swollen. And JJ looked at her again. Not understanding why she would even think that he would like someone like Brittany when she was all he could dream of. His hands cupped her face and with his thumbs he gently wiped away the black marks under her eyes. A soft sob escaped her lips and a fresh batch of tears rolled down her cheeks. He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, swallowing, breathing heavily.

“The truth is... that Brittany girl... she's my dance teacher,” JJ whispered and looked into her eyes, which were looking at him questioningly. She looked like a little lost child and he chuckled softly.

“That night, at Sarah's birthday party, when you asked me to dance…" J closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. He hoped that he would never have to admit it, and that his dancing lessons would remain a secret, but she had to know the truth so as not to consider him the jerk who played with her feelings. JJ didn't want her to think that of him. “I refused because I can't dance. And I was... I was ashamed. Dancing is your whole life and I would just embarrass myself in front of you… And you'd think I was some kind of fool...”

“But I-I would never have th-thought that,” the girl whispered softly. J opened his eyes, caught her sincere gaze and smiled. God, what a fool he was.

“That's right, but I... I was an insecure jerk, princess,” the guy admitted, grinning, tucking a wet curl behind her ear. “I'm… It all happened so fast and I... I never saw myself catching these feelings. I never asked for help or needed the healing. And I decided to take these damn dance classes for you... and I didn't want you to find out because I... because I'm a complete idiot, apparently,” the guy laughed softly, shaking his head.

JJ let go of her face and took a couple of steps back, giving her time to process everything he said. He could feel his heart beating wildly against the walls of his chest while she stood and was silent, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Listen, Princess. I know I should have told you and all that earlier, but I... God, you're driving me crazy, you know? I can't think, speak, or breathe when you're around. I'm head over heels in love with you, angel” Maybank ran his fingers through the hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “I can't stop the way that this felt. It keeps coming round and round and round and back again”

She looked at him in silence, feeling as if the heart that she had broken herself was beginning to heal from his words. And she wanted to cry how stupid she had been to believe that JJ was playing with her. While he was taking dance lessons so as not to look like a fool in front of her… She knew he didn't like dancing, but for her sake he went to classes to learn. For her sake, he stepped over himself a bunch of times, worked overtime and did everything to make her happy, and she just...

A loud sob escaped her lips and she covered her mouth with her hand, feeling tears blurring her eyes. Her legs buckled and she almost fell to the ground, but JJ quickly picked her up, hugging her to him.

“I'm sorry, Jay! I'm so so so sorry, I was such a fool! I-I-I didn't mean to! I-I-didn't know,” the girl whimpered into his chest, clinging to his soaked T-shirt. His free hand slowly stroked her wet hair while his other hand held her on her feet.

“Shhh… Everything's fine now, right? We'll figure it out and everything will be fine,” the guy whispered in her ear, kissing the top of her head. “You believe me, don't you?”

The girl raised her head looking at his calm face, on which raindrops were running, at his wet hair and soft smile, and her soul felt so warm, as if in a second she was at home in the warmth next to the fireplace with a warm mug of tea in her hands, and not standing under the cold pouring rain in the middle of the street. Her hand slowly soared into the air and removed the bangs that stuck to his forehead before nodding in agreement.

JJ's gaze swept over her soft features. First the eyes, then the pink cheeks and plump lips that he wanted to kiss so much. The guy exhaled, raising his eyes again, looking into hers.

“Will you dance with me?” He whispered hoarsely, without taking his eyes off her, holding out his hand.

She smiled, and it seemed to him that this smile could light up the whole world if the sun ever went out. She gently placed her hand in his palm, and put the other on his shoulder. JJ squeezed her hand, pulling her closer by the waist, so that he felt every cell of her body and took the first hesitant step, which she followed without even thinking.

Her gaze was focused on his eyes, blue as two oceans, in which she was drowning more and more with each new step of the dance. For the first time, she didn't think about what move she should make next, or what position to stand in to look good on stage, or about getting to the beat of the music. For the first time in a long time, she danced just for herself, as she felt and as she wanted, completely trusting in the hands of JJ Maybank. He with trepidation and tenderness whirled her around in a dance on the ever-hurrying streets of New York, which at that moment stopped their run. Leaving only her, JJ and their dance in this vast world.

“I think love you, JJ,” she whispered softly, looking into his eyes, feeling a lump rise in her throat from excitement. Maybank stopped holding her in his arms, studying her face carefully before saying hoarsely, “Say it again".

“I love you,” she said on an exhale, and as soon as these words were uttered for the second time, Maybank pulled her face closer and kissed her. Gently. No rush. Like he haven't kissed anyone else before her. Trying to feel every emotion to the fullest.

The New York's rain comes pouring down, not even thinking to stop. And JJ Maybank didn't like the New York's rain. He didn't like New York and the people who live here. He disliked theater, ballet and dancing.

But JJ Maybank loved the sea, the sun and sandy beaches. He also loved surfing and Kildare, which he had to leave three years ago. He loved his home, which was thousands of miles from New York.

Y/N Y/L loved New York with its weather and people. She lived by dancing and dreamed of performing on Broadway and had never been to North Carolina. But despite this, JJ Maybank saw her as his home: the waves of the sea in her laughter, the sandy beaches in her eyes and the warmth of the sun in her smile.

And next to her, it turned out that New York and North Carolina were not so different, and that his home would never be a thousand miles away. And from now on, It will always stay next to him, in his arms, on his lips, in his heart.

Because now JJ Maybank knew that his home had never been a place. It's always been a person. And it's her.

that’s my first such loooong oneshot here so, i’m a little nervous to post it. but i rly hope it came out good n not too boring.

I will be glad to receive any feedback. a comment, like or reblog always pleases that little writer’s heart of mine.

but, nevertheless, thankx for reading <3

– your santi ✨

#– santi 🪐#jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #obx fic #obx x reader #jj maybank x fem!reader

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sp1rit-realm · 8 months

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༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 hour five!!!!! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 forced proximity 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 remus has chronic pain 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠ 𖦹 ik this is short but next ch will be out very very soon. i am trying to keep you fed, my children, but life is hard and i am busy! 𖦹 again, thank you so, so much for the love on this series!!!!

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 465

prologue / hour 5 << pt. 6 -- hour 5 >> six months ago

"Shit— That's not—" He struggles out.

༻¨*:· 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝟓 ·:*¨༺

"No, I get it, Remus. I'm just a human disappointment, aren't I?"

"Y/n," he sighs, "That's—that's not what I meant."

"So what did you mean, Remus?"

"I—" His mouth stays open, but nothing comes from it.

"That's what I thought."

"Y/n," He scrambles frantically, "I didn't— I wasn't thinking straight. Please, listen—"

"Why would you even care? It's not like you enjoy me or anything. You hate me, Remus," Tears coat your eyes, and you're praying to whoever—whatever will listen that they won't fall. They don't listen, "You hate me, and I hate you." You huff, angrily wiping at your tears.

"I," He shakes his head, "I don't hate you."

It's like an invisible fist wraps itself around your lungs and squeezes. You can't breathe. The walls start closing in on you, "Yes, you do." You insist.

He winces, glancing down at the floor, before shaking his head, "No. No, I don't."

He looks up at you, voice dropping to a whisper, almost painfully quiet, "I've never hated you."

You stand up, "You're lying, Remus. Don't lie to me."

He stands, too, "I— I'm not lying. How do I make you believe that?"

"How?" You ask, "Try not being a dick to me!"

His gaze remains fixed on the ground, "I'll— okay. I'll be nice," He decides.

"Actually," You huff, "Don't bother."

He sighs, rubbing his face, "You are being so difficult! Do you want me to be nice or not?"

You want to scream, "I want you to tell me the truth! Do you hate me or not?!"

Remus groans, sliding back down the wall, "You are impossible," He sounds defeated—he looks the part, too.

"So what if I am?" You're being difficult on purpose by now, but you have every right to. He's the one who screwed things up between the two of you. Things could have been perfect, but they aren't. You are stuck in a godforsaken lift with Remus Lupin, and he doesn't hate you.

'I don't hate you.'

The words taunt you—they replay in your mind over and over.

Remus Lupin doesn't hate you.

"Hey," The voice from earlier crackles through the speaker, "Maintenance is," he takes a deep breath, "Maintenance is gonna be another hour or so. Sorry 'bout that. Hang in there!" And with that, he's gone.

The tension is so thick you swear you can feel it weighing you down.

You're both silent for about ten minutes.

"I don't hate you. I— I wish I had a valid excuse for the way I've treated you, but I don't." Remus looks at his palms like there's blood on his hands—and there very well might be.

Your voice is small, "So what's your reason?" You lift your head to look at him, but he's still staring at his hands.

HEHEHEHEHEHEHE

lmk if u wanna b tagged!

@queerpumpkinnn @ay0nha @knaveism @whennyxfallsinlove @freezing-my-brain @starlit-epiphany @inkluvs @t3rritorial-piss1ngs @starsval @little-snow @bubybubsters @zvdvdlvr @venzami-burst @rosalyn-s @ttulipwritezz @fate-posts @sparky--bunny @severegiantjudgefriend @secretdazeobservation @violetteshoneybee @bubybubsters @lina844 @d3adp00ls @daisydark @joeytribbiani18 @thesecretwriter @peachielol @avatarjuno @helloitsmeeeeeee @flores-and-sunshine @mi-reille @kayden666 @sleepybookworm21 @m0rtifiedg0th @jollyjenoo @remuslupinsbae @siriusblackenthusiast @psychobitchsthings @lonaah @djlance-rock @starchaser-lily @odettebarton @mannaornot

#༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺#remus lupin #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin x reader enemies to lovers #remus lupin enemies to lovers #remus lupin forced proximity #remus lupin x reader forced proximity #moony #moony x reader

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residentrookie · 9 months

Text

jegulus dads ‘i frew up 🧍’ microfic— 1313 words; sorry guys i was brain rotting too hard about this one (cw: mentions of throwing up)

in all his 27 years, regulus has never been a deep sleeper. so when the door to the bedroom creaks open at 3 in the morning, his eyes open with it. the room is still pitch black, and he wonders groggily if boots (their cat) pawed it open when a tiny, weak voice whimpers, “daddy?”

regulus is launching up in bed and turning towards the voice of his five year old son before thinking twice.

“what, baby? what is it?”

at his sudden movement, james shoots up in bed next to him. “—whatisit. haz?” he mumbles, flicking on a lamp and dousing the room in light.

there stands harry in his spiderman jams, hair an absolute bird’s nest and tears streaming from his big green eyes and down his sweet cheeks. regulus’ eyes water instinctively just looking at him. before having kids, regulus never knew what it was to empathize so automatically with someone else— but he felt harry’s emotions right along with him, the joy, the sorrow, and the pain too.

“i—“ harry starts, then sucks in a big stuttering breath, clearly trying to be a brave boy and not cry, “i-i threw u-up.”

at the admission he wails, like he’s just confessed to the most abhorrent sin and will now have to face the wrath of his two loving fathers, who are so light on punishments they sometimes worry harry will end up being the most spoiled brat alive. james and regulus share a quick look, what regulus would consider the “dad” look, before throwing back the covers and rising quickly.

surprisingly, they’ve planned for this. years ago. when they first started dating. james had asked regulus about this very scenario, and after minutes of regulus whining about never wanting children in the first place—so why does it even matter, james— he’d made his position clear.

“i don’t do vomit.” regulus told him firmly. “absolutely not.”

james had laughed. “fine by me. if you only knew how much of my friends vomit i’ve had to clean up over the years. i don’t even blink at it anymore.”

thus the responsibilities of this hypothetical situation were assigned. james was on vomit duty. regulus was on comfort duty.

“not sure i’ll be any good at that either,” regulus had said grudgingly, but james had just smiled knowingly, able to see a future that regulus couldn’t yet imagine.

james makes it to harry first and scoops him up promptly, letting him bury his face in his neck and sob. regulus comes up behind them and snuggles up to harry, kissing his small head and whispering reassurances.

“shhhh don’t cry, it’s okay, haz. does your tummy hurt?” james asks calmly, rocking them all back and forth soothingly.

regulus pulls back and watches harry nod. his cheek is rosy and hot when regulus puts his hand to it.

“come on, baby, let’s go take care of it okay?” regulus tells him, and james deposits their still-sniffling son into his husbands open arms.

“you know what time it is?” james asks, wiggling his brows. harry just sniffs and shakes his head. “time to be superdad,” james tells him, pointing at his faded superman t-shirt. then he gives an animated salute, puts one fist on his hip and the other high in the sky before jetting out of the room with some impressive ‘flying sounds’ that manage to make harry smile a little before he remembers that he’s actually very upset right now. regulus shakes his head at his wonderfully ridiculous spouse and starts towards the stairs, feeling harry’s hot tears gather in the crook of his neck.

after giving harry some medicine, they settle on the couch downstairs, harry in regulus lap and clinging to him. regulus rocks them for a few minutes, letting harry’s breaths slow as he calms down.

“papa?” harry sniffles suddenly, his voice so small.

“yes, sweetheart?” regulus asks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“we need to have a funeral. like how we did for bobbi.”

regulus blinks. bobbi, harry’s goldfish, had died three days after james brought him home, leaving the two of them to explain the complicated matter of death to their three and a half year old. so harry had a vague idea of the concept and of funerals, though his only exposure has been the meager ceremony they’d patched together and held in their garden. sirius had given a speech and peter had cried.

“what? why?” regulus demands, scanning his son’s face. his bottom lip pokes out as his eyes fill with tears yet again.

“b-because i think i killed hippo,” he wails. “i-i threw up all over him— a-and ron said that throw up is like— like how supervillains spit out the acid and k-kill the good guys—“

regulus closes his eyes briefly, exhaling in relief. he makes a mental note to tell james to cool it on the superhero movies for a while— clearly it’s getting into harry’s head.

“no baby, hippo is fine. he just needs to go for a swim in the wash, and then he’ll come out as good as new.”

harry peels his head back from regulus’ chest, blinking up at home hopefully. “really?”

“really. i bet daddy has already put him in. shall we go check on him just to be sure?”

“yes, please,” harry says, politely. oddly, it makes regulus think of his mother, of how she had demanded her boys to be polite above all else, even in the face of abuse and neglect. james and regulus had done absolutely everything differently, and harry still turned out to be the sweetest boy on the planet. walburga can fucking suck it.

pushing aside the thoughts of his mother, regulus rises with harry still perched on his hip. they walk back upstairs, peeking their heads into the laundry room to find james, metaphorical sleeves rolled up as he hums to himself, rummaging through their linens. regulus truly married the only person in the world who can sing while cleaning up vomit at 3 in the morning.

james turns and smiles at them in the doorway. “my boys!” he says cheerfully, crossing the room to give harry a smooch on the head.

“he’s worried about hippo, darling,” regulus explains. “can you show him how he’s just gone for a dip in the wash?”

“who, hippo?” james asks. “oh he’s great. you know what he told me haz?” he leans forward as if confiding a secret, “he told me he’s been wanting a bubble bath for sooo long and he’s sooo happy he finally got the chance. he even said to tell you thank you!”

harry giggles. “no he didn’t. he doesn’t talk.”

james gasps. “well he certainly talks to me, harry. we’re the best of friends.”

“i thought papa was your best friend,” harry says and james’ face melts into the gentlest smile.

“that’s true, too. it’s a tie between hippo and papa.”

regulus rolls his eyes as harry laughs. they go over and stand in front of the washer. the top is clear, so harry can see all his stuffies (including hippo) swirl around in the sudsy water. after several moments of watching them spin, james nudges regulus, inclining his head towards harry.

regulus looks down to see their baby’s eyes closed, head heavy, cheek squished against his chest.

“his bed has fresh sheets,” james whispers but regulus isn’t quite ready to let him go. he looks up at james with a pleading face.

james, try as he might, has never excelled at being the hardass parent. so when regulus takes their son back into their bedroom, depositing him under the covers between the two of them, james just smiles and shakes his head. they climb into bed and turn towards harry, two parenthesis enclosing the small shape of their son, cradling him and keeping him safe.

regulus sleeps long and deep, one hand laced with his husband’s, the other resting on his son’s dark head.

#i scribbled this like a madman in my notes app so apologies for the lowercase #i just love everything about them #they would be SUCH GOOD PARENTS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #jegulus dads #jegulus #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #harry potter #oneshot

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cupidjyu · 8 months

Text

the sweetener you are

hyunjae x reader (idea from the anon who requested childhood friends to lovers!)

summary: when a mysterious man moves into the apartment next door, you realize that he’s your childhood best friend who’s disappeared for years. he changed, his life seeming to have soured. but you could just be his sweetener, the one to make him smile again

genre: best friends to lovers, and boy-next-door sorta thing, hurt/comfort for him because he deserves the world, nightmares, healing, one bed trope, youre forced to move in with him hahaha am i evil, back hugs, he acts "drunk" when tired (dont ask why, it was just an excuse to write him being clingy), hes flirty ish and teasing, hes shirtless for like one second (BECAUSE.), sleepy love confessions, kissing, is there tension? i can't tell myself, “sweetheart” good god notes: school started so expect much much less after this... so see you in a bit 🥲🥲but hope u enjoy!!! this is literally just yumi who needs to stop writing long interpretations of their love for hyunjae in the form of fics + song inspo! word count: 12.7k

You coughed. You choked. And then you glared straight at Younghoon who was staring back in complete alarm. Setting the unfinished glass down on the counter with a loud clink, you clenched your jaw with unspoken curse words that threatened to escape your lips.

“This tastes like dirt,” You garbled out. Rushing over to one of your cupboards, you pulled out one of those small sugar packets that you liked to swipe from those cute coffee shops. If it was free, why not take a few? Ripping the paper open, you poured it into the drink that didn’t even look like it belonged on this planet. It was both… green and yellowish-blue at the same time.

Younghoon gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth dramatically. “That’s not healthy!”

“But it tastes so bad,” You whined. “It needs a sweetener.”

He glared, dragging his hand all the way down his jaw in an unattractive way. “It’s an herbal drink. It’s meant to taste bad. Think of all the health benefits you could’ve gotten out of that without the sugar.”

“You made this?” You scrunched up your face in disgust.

“No, I–” He laughed nervously. “My mom did. I promised her I would finish it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you couldn’t because it tasted so bad. So you’re making me finish it.”

He gave you a pained smile as he stepped away. “I– who said that?”

“Why’re we even friends?” You questioned before jabbing a finger at the door. “Get out.”

Younghoon pouted but he eventually obliged, opening the apartment door. “You still owe me money for that overpriced tiny piece of cake by the way.”

“It tasted good!” You shot back.

“It did not.” He sighed. “It’s just you with your horrible sweet tooth. Don’t even– hey…” You noticed him peeking out of your door and into the hallway. And then he leaned back in, searching your face with wonder. “Someone’s moving in next door.”

You brightened with interest at that, practically jumping off where you were sitting on the kitchen counter. Bounding over to the door, you poked your head out under Younghoon’s, just like they did in the cartoons. Squinting your eyes, all you could see was a tall man with a cap on that covered most of his face.

“Who’s that?” Younghoon said, slightly too loud for your liking.

With a groan, you elbowed him in the ribs. “Shh…how would I know? Though... he does look better than that old dude who constantly yelled at those courtroom TV shows like he was the judge.” It was like the apartment next to yours was cursed. Magic wasn’t real here. Or at least, in this world. But you still believed that a witch had strolled by and casually placed a hex on Apt 245 for the fun of it. For the time that you’ve been here, you’ve seen about five people move in there. And they were never happy.

Once, there were two parents who had to deal with multiple children who would not stop crying. You hadn’t slept a wink the whole time they were there. They did receive a noise complaint though. Another time, there was a teenager who couldn’t even properly pay off the rent. He didn’t have a job. But he could somehow afford the loudest speaker where he would play the most gut-wrenching, saddest music ever. He got evicted.

But this man… well–he looked decent. Really. No evident curse here. Or at least, yet. When he turned around, you could see that he was very tall and… broad. Apparently, that was the first thing you noticed. He also seemed to pick up the moving boxes with ease and when he had stepped just the slightest to the side, you could see the impossibly perfect slope of his nose. Also a very odd thing to notice.

Younghoon grasped your arm, pulling you back into your own apartment.

“Don’t fall in love.”

You gaped at him. “What? I don’t even know who he is.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But he’s tall. And broad. And has a nice nose. I know you. I know your type.”

Shit.

“You do know me,” You mumbled sheepishly. “But still!” You poked him harshly. “I won’t fall in love. I probably won’t even see him for like– a month. Or he’s going to be cursed and moved out like the others. Don’t worry.”

Your friend narrowed his eyes in skepticism but he eventually nodded. “As long as you don’t bump into him tomorrow or something.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Of course. I won’t fall in love.”

You didn’t fall in love. You fell onto the floor.

And you also happened to bump into him the next day ironically enough.

If only—if only—you decided to pick up your mail yesterday like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. And by this, you meant being distracted by a cup that rolled out of your new neighbor’s door and then walking straight into his chest.

You squeaked in horror. “I’m sorry!” And then you stepped backwards, tripped on your badly-timed untied shoelace, and ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway.

When you looked up, there was a pretty hand that reached out to help you up. Taking it with burning cheeks, you could finally see what this man looked like up close and without a cap.

And you would have expected maybe one of those boy-next-door romantic moments where you would fall into his arms and start dating the next day. Oh, and also kiss and eventually get married. But no, you—

“Hyunjae?”

The man—Hyunjae—gaped at you with comically wide eyes.

“Y/n,” He breathed out.

As long-lost childhood friends, the most sensible thing to do was ask how he was. But you often defied expectations, positively or negatively, and so instead you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug.

Hyunjae, whom you’ve known since you were just young kids, has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. He used to be on the elementary school track team while you… were on the bleachers trying to tell the difference between subtraction and addition. But luckily, Hyunjae was both a smart and kind kid and so he had stopped in the middle of his running to sit with you and teach what your teacher couldn’t do properly.

He was always one year older, always more mature and experienced. But he tended to throw that away just for you and join in on playing games with you when he should’ve been studying for an exam. But he did so to cheer you up. He was sweet like that and you adored spending your afternoons after school with him.

The two of you even got to experience those dreadful high school years together, except there was always that haunting realization—that he would eventually graduate first. But he always reassured you.

“It’s just one year, silly,” He joked, pulling you into a side hug, one that perfectly portrayed his understanding of your worries. “I’ll text and call you all the time. Promise.”

Promises were often broken and this wasn’t any different. For when he had left for college, he never contacted you ever again. You had tried to reach out, but he never responded. And so, for your whole college term, you never saw Lee Hyunjae, your supposed “best friend,” ever again.

And you should have been mad—no, furious to see him again. You should have pushed him away and went on with your life while skillfully avoiding him. But just the simple sight of him brought back all those fond memories–baking cupcakes, falling asleep together just after screaming over a horror movie, holding each other when life just gets too much... And so you found yourself buried into his chest, holding him tightly.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered again, shutting your eyes in both contentment and fear of him pushing you away again.

But you felt two hands snake around your middle, hugging you back. There were a million questions running through your mind at that moment, wondering why he had disappeared but welcomed you so easily. But you set them aside, choosing to just melt into his still familiar embrace.

Finally though, you managed to pull away, looking at him with a fond smile. He smiled back. He had grown even more handsome than before. He managed to become taller, broader, and more charming all at once. His features were sharp, more mature. Something about him–the way he was dressed in a literal suit–really portrayed to you that he really was an adult now, as opposed to the teenager who procrastinated on science projects.

“How are you?” He smiled, almost too polite for your liking. You could see the way he stood, awkwardly and with fidgeting hands. And that was when it all hit you like a truck.

Your eyebrows suddenly furrowed, your lips pulled into a scowl, and your eyes narrowed as you stepped forward. “How am I? No. How could you–” You banged a fist on his firm chest. “–leave me–” Another punch. “–like that–” He stepped back in growing alarm. “–and act all polite and uneasy as if we weren’t best friends for years?” Both of your fists lingered on his chest, your strength growing weak from frustration.

“Y/n, I–” He winced.

“Actually, I hate you.” You glared. But your words differentiated from your actions when your hand came to smooth down his crumpled tie. “I don’t want to see you ever again. You’re an absolute asshole and I–” But your eyes met with his, his gaze amused and soft. And then you sniffled, looking down at the ground, the urge to cry suddenly overcoming you.

Hyunjae laughed quietly. “I’m sorry. If you would allow me to explain?”

“Great,” You grumbled. “Then do so. Since you’ve owed me an explanation after all these years.”

He glanced at his watch. “I have work. Tomorrow, maybe? Trust me.”

You looked at him in bewilderment. “Work? But you haven’t even unpacked yet.” You eyed his apartment with the door open. There were multiple boxes strewn about, some not even open yet.

“Emergencies,” He sighed. That was when you noticed just how exhausted he looked. “I have to go.”

“Oh,” You stuttered. “Okay. I– good luck?”

Hyunjae smiled, pinching your cheek just like he had done all those years ago. He seemed to be completely unfazed over the fact that you just punched him in anger. “Thank you.” And he was locking the door behind him and heading for the elevator. But just as he was walking away, you felt the need to call something out. Just a few words.

“Hyunjae?” You said.

He turned around, tilting his head. You never knew just how well work attire suited him. He looked almost… attractive. But god, what were you thinking?

“I missed you.”

He smiled but he never quite gave you a response as the elevator ding had interrupted him. Instead, he just gave you a small wave.

It was odd. Awkward. But one step at a time, you figured. It’s been years after all.

The next day, as promised, he had shown up to your door. This time, since it was the weekend, he was wearing a simple white shirt. One that still never failed to accentuate his broad shoulders.

But initially, you thought it was Younghoon and not a guy who you haven’t seen for multiple years. So you may or may not have opened the door with your hair like a bird’s nest and your sleepwear on that… wasn’t meant for the general public to see. Apparently, Hyunjae fits in the general public category now. Best friend? No, you hate him.

Kind of.

Not really.

Stumbling to the door, you flung it open, your eyes barely open. Immediately, you were met with the sight of just. Long legs. Not very helpful.

“Who–” And then you looked up, only to meet Hyunjae’s eyes. Choking on your spit, you straightened up. “Hello,” You blurted out in a monotone voice.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin down with amusement. “And who’s the uneasy one now?”

“Sorry, I…” Your eyes trailed down to what you were wearing. With an internal gasp, you stepped backward. “I’m going to– change.”

He widened his eyes and then his gaze also traveled down. His cheeks were oddly red and he cleared his throat, looking away.

You cringed and shut the door in his face before he could even say anything.

Now in proper clothes that were for the general public, you opened the door again. He was still standing there with that same smile. The same kind, caring one he always regarded you with even when you were just kids.

“Where should we talk?” You asked.

His eyes glanced over to his own door. “My place?” He offered quietly. “I have unpacking to do.”

You stared at him silently. And then you nodded with an excited smile. “I can help.”

“Oh no,” He laughed softly. “You don’t have to. I’m fine on my–”

“You don’t look fine,” You interrupted. And without thinking, your hand came up to cup his cheek, turning him to face you. “You look tired.”

He stared at you wordlessly before sighing. “I guess I am.”

“So let me help.” You grinned. “I’m using my vacation days from work right now anyway.”

He could only mutter a shy “okay” as he opened the door for you to enter. Looking around, you found that the only things that he had unpacked lacked much of any personality. He took out the necessities and a bunch of… work. Papers, a computer, work suits and the like.

“You seem busy,” You remarked as you walked over to the box labeled “decorations” only for there to literally be one single plant that looked like it needed to be watered. In fact, it was on the brink of death. Immediately, your face was contorting in worry and you turned to where he was just standing at the entrance with an embarrassed expression. “What… happened to your initial dream?”

He approached you and peered into the box. “What dream?”

“The one where you wanted to have a place full of pretty plants.”

“Yeah well,” He laughed bitterly. “Circumstances change aspirations.”

You gulped nervously at his change of tone. Something was bothering him. Something, in particular, caused him to move here. You led him to the couch and sat next to him.

“So what is it? Why did you cut everyone off and– disappear?” You asked cautiously.

He looked at you for a long minute like he was trying to figure out a response for himself. And finally, he just sighed in defeat.

“Problems.”

“Like what?” You prodded.

“A lot. And I wouldn’t want to lay them all on you.” He gave you a weak smile. You regarded him with a soft look in your eyes, searching his face for any sort of answer. All you could see was a flame that had long been put out.

“Then tell me one.”

“One?” He bit his lip nervously. “One…”

“Just one,” You said gently.

“Like the one where the place I used to work at didn’t treat me right? That they refused to give me anything?” He mumbled, his voice trailing off with embarrassment. “So I moved here so that I could get away? That one?”

You froze at his words. You processed them and that was when it began to make sense. He wasn’t going to work yesterday. He was going to an interview. His computer was open to job openings and the papers weren’t reports. They were resumes.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered. But he was already distancing himself, standing up from the couch. You gazed at him with concern as you stood up, only for him to take a step backward.

“Why are you…” You frowned. “It’s okay, you know. Did you think I would look at you any differently?”

His jaw clenched. “Well, I did cut you off because I didn’t want to worry you. You always told me I would be successful, the best. So how exactly could I face you after they…”

“That’s not your fault. And I’m sorry for putting that on you,” You mustered, stepping closer. This time, he didn’t step away. He allowed you to do anything. He let you trail a hand down to his wrist, holding it gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me more. I’m sorry.”

He watched you with slight surprise, and with his lips pulled into a straight line, he whispered a small, “I should be the one who’s sorry.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Don’t be.”

He stayed silent at that, simply studying your features. You could tell he still wanted to apologize. But then the corner of his lips lifted slightly. “You grew up.” His tone was gentle, so kind, just like you’ve always known. It was a little quieter than before though, more closed off as if he was afraid–scared of what you would think of him.

You laughed bashfully. “And so did you.” Your hand trailed up to his shoulder. “Did you start working out?”

He smirked. “Why, do you like my progress?”

You snorted. “Could improve.”

He scoffed yet he only looked at you with fondness. The two of you simply stood there, in the midst of his empty apartment, just staring at each other. And then you giggled. He laughed as well before reaching forward and pulling you into his arms, squeezing you so tight that you felt the air leave your lungs.

“Ah–” You choked. “Hyunjae. You’re killing me.”

“I’m showing you my newfound strength,” He joked, stepping away. You were about to refute but instead, you felt your gaze wandering to his arms. Since when were they so toned and–

“Very funny,” You weakly replied. Escaping from his persisting soft gaze, you stepped away and approached the various boxes. “What can I help you with?”

Hyunjae didn’t have much. Apparently, all those large boxes contained about three small things.

“I overestimated,” He replied with a sheepish smile when you asked.

Most of his things were put away yet when you looked around, the apartment was void of any joy or charm. The only boxes that were left were his clothes which he claimed he could do another day. After putting away his single cup and plate–that’s all he had apparently–you turned around only to see that he was crouched, bending towards that same plant that you pointed out. Its leaves were drooping and the stem wilting, as his fingers gently prodded at it. When you looked closely, you could see a melancholy look on his face, a small frown tugging on his lips.

It was true, that Hyunjae had many dreams when he was younger. That was normal for many people. But to witness it all dissipate before your sight, no sign of light behind his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench.

Walking over, you crouched down next to him. He gave you a forced smile.

“Kind of sad,” He remarked with a disappointed sigh. “I bought it only for me to fail to take care of it.”

“You can always buy another one.”

“Mhm,” He hummed dully. “Sure.”

You watched him wordlessly, observing the way his gaze fell when one of the leaves broke off. Shaking your head, you suddenly stood up.

“Let’s go out.”

He looked up at you in surprise. “What?”

“I’ll be your tour guide of the town,” You joked. “I know everything.”

Standing up with you, he stole a glance at his phone. “I can’t.”

“Why?” You pouted.

“I’m waiting for my result from the interview.”

You sighed and took his wrist in yours, pulling him to the door. “You need to get your mind off that for a second.”

“But–”

“Please?” You looked up at him, even batting your eyelashes. “Just for a moment?” You also exaggerated a pout.

He blinked in shock, his eyes trailing over your expression. “What are you doing?”

“Making you feel bad. Is it working?” You held back a grin.

He huffed out a laugh. “Definitely. Fine, just for a moment.”

You grinned and you were already pulling on your shoes and bounding out the door, leaving Hyunjae to smile to himself.

“This is a convenience store.” You pointed at it with a bright smile.

He rolled his eyes. “I know what a convenience store is.”

You laughed and led him to the next block before abruptly stopping. “This is the karaoke bar,” You said, pointing at the nearby building.

“Fun,” He muttered.

“We should go one day.” You smiled. “Actually no.” You scowled. “I got drunk there once and I think they banned me because I was dancing on the tables.”

Hyunjae turned to you in slight shock. “You? Drunk?”

“What?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “What is it?”

“I just… you always said that you hated the taste of alcohol,” He replied in wonder.

“Times change.” You grinned, nudging his shoulder. He gave you a small smile back.

Then, you led him to your favorite spot. The central park in the middle of town. It was a beautiful day out, the sky bright and blue. You loved to sit at one of the benches, watching birds fly by or kids play happily on the playground.

“Wait here.” You patted the seat. And then you were running off, nowhere to be seen. Hyunjae simply sat there, observing the calm atmosphere. When you came back, you were holding a stick of cotton candy in your hand. It was large, almost covering your whole face. Hyunjae chuckled, taking it from you so you wouldn’t trip on the ground.

“Aren’t we too old for this?” He questioned.

You shook your head. “I still love it.”

He took a bite and turned to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s so sweet.”

“That’s why it’s good!” You stared at him like he was the craziest man alive.

“It’s because you’ve always had a sweet tooth.” He frowned, gently placing it back in your hands.

“Fine,” You scoffed. “If that’s how you treat your best friend.” And you were taking a bite on the opposite side. When you pulled it away from your face, you were startled by a loud laugh. From Hyunjae, specifically. Turning to him with wide eyes, you could even see him smiling.

It was not like the other smiles that you’ve seen so far. Those ones were small, lacking much of any emotion. But this one was wide, full with amusement and happiness.

“Wha– oh,” You huffed, realizing that there was cotton candy on your nose. Hyunjae laughed even louder and suddenly he was leaning in to gently wipe it off with his finger.

“Cutie,” He whispered fondly, his other hand gently cupping the side of your face.

Your heart stuttered at the word. “Wh-what?”

He gulped, pulling away like he was burned. “Oh, I…”

You quickly recovered, instead scooching even closer to him so that your shoulders were touching. “You think I’m cute? Even when I’m all grown up?”

“Always.”

“I missed your smile,” You stated as the two of you were walking back to the apartment complex.

You had expected him to point out that he had smiled other times before. But instead, he gazed at you with soft eyes.

“I did too. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so happy,” He said. “All thanks to you.”

“Of course!” You beamed, looping an arm with his before pulling him closer. “You can always count on me.”

He didn’t respond this time. But his expression said it all. Thank you, thank you, thank you, was all you could see in his dark brown eyes. Smiling, you bumped your body playfully against his.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” You asked.

Again, you found yourself in his apartment the next day. Apparently, he had just gotten back from running and he needed to take a shower. So, you were looking through his boxes full of clothes. You sorted through them, folding them until you came across a hoodie. You didn’t recognize it, but the fabric of it was so… soft and warm. Your hands held onto it, contemplating what it would feel like if you just–

The door to the bathroom creaked open. You gasped and shoved it behind you, greatly hoping that he didn’t notice you staring at it longingly. But alas, you just had to have slow reflexes at this moment.

“Do you like it?” He asked. “Put it on.”

You laughed awkwardly, turning to face him, only for your protests to come stuttering to a stop. Your eyes trailed down from his damp hair to his… whole torso. His bare torso. He was shirtless. Right out of the shower, water droplets sitting prettily on his collarbones, traveling all the way down to his chest and his– he definitely works out.

“Oh,” You breathed out, your cheeks flushing red as you frantically looked away. This was not how you expected to reunite with your best friend after so long.

“Sorry,” He replied, his voice low. “My shirt’s in there.”

You nodded, refusing to look up. It was quiet for a moment, too quiet that you contemplated just shoving his clothes into his hands while dutifully avoiding the sight of his bare chest.

But then he was right beside you and he smelled so, so good as he leaned over you, his hand gently grasping your waist. To take a shirt. Very unnecessary but it still left you inhaling sharply. Feeling yourself go dizzy as you stood there, eyes trained on the ground, and every single muscle in all of human anatomy completely rigid until you were sure he was properly dressed.

Taking a peek, you were met with his teasing smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” You mustered.

“You were staring weren’t you?” He leaned even closer, his eyes searching yours with amusement. His hand gently lifted your chin up, making you swallow thickly at the way he was gazing at you with a small smirk.

“I wasn’t,” You whispered shakily.

“Hm,” He hummed. “You look a little flushed though.”

“It was nothing,” You shoved him away, feeling like your face was on fire. “You shouldn’t just walk around like that. It’s…”

“Mhm.” He only continued to smile wider. “Whatever you say.”

You groaned, abruptly turning away to hide your reddening cheeks. But then your eyes landed back on that same hoodie.

“I know that look on your face,” He teased, picking it up. “You like it.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay,” He simply replied, shrugging and turning around. You were just about to question his suspiciously short response when out of nowhere, he whipped back around and pulled the hoodie over you. Immediately, you were encompassed in warmth and– did he always smell this good? And why was he staring at you so softly with that stupid fond smile and why was your heart beating a mile a minute and–

“Hyunjae,” You groaned. “What was that for?”

But he stayed silent, simply examining you wearing his clothes. You tilted your head.

“Do I look good?”

His breath hitched and now it was him with reddening cheeks as he backed away. You stifled a laugh as you stepped forward, cornering him against the edge of the kitchen counter.

“And I know that look on your face,” You teased back. “You like it.”

His eyes fluttered, almost like he was fighting the urge to look over your body once again. He inhaled deeply and then he straightened, leaning over you this time. With a subtle smile, he whispered something that left shivers down your spine.

“I love it.”

Oh my god. You treaded backwards, suddenly feeling conscious of everything. His eyes on you–all over you–the way the shirt clung to his body, the rushing thought of the fact that you saw him without it on just a few minutes ago–everything came over you like a bucket of ice water.

“I–” With wide eyes, he only continued to approach you, the scent of his shampoo overcoming you quickly. You couldn’t come up with a comeback anymore. At first, you thought that this was just friendly banter, the type that you guys would do in the school cafeteria. But this–this was something different. With the way he was looking at you with darkening eyes, you weren’t quite sure this was that “friendly banter” thing anymore.

“Shut up,” You blurted out as you pulled the hoodie off you and thrust it into his chest.

“Why?” He grinned. “I like this game.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What game is this exactly?”

“The game of making the other person flustered.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. You couldn’t quite come up with a verbal comeback. So you could instead…

Taking a step forward, you hooked a hand around the back of his neck, letting your touch linger there for a moment. A stuttering breath was caught thickly in his throat as he looked down at you in bafflement.

And then you let your fingertips trail around, down his neck, across his collarbone, slightly pulling down the hem of his shirt and stopping just at his chest where you could feel his heart thump erratically.

Your trace on his skin left sparks flying in your heart and when you had looked up, you knew that Hyunjae was experiencing the same thing.

He was looking down at you, completely speechless and his eyes round in shock. You smiled in triumph, leaning close to one of his reddening ears.

“Then I win.”

And you were heading for the door. But just as you turned around, you could see Hyunjae who was still leaning against the counter, cheeks now red as he stared down at the ground. You giggled, closing the door behind you.

The next time you saw Hyunjae, unsurprisingly, he looked exhausted again. In fact, he didn’t even recognize you at first with how he was gazing off into space rather than unlocking his own door.

“Come over tonight,” You offered.

He raised an eyebrow. “To do what?”

You choked. “Not that. Movie night!” You winked, patting his shoulder before leaving for the grocery store. You made sure to mentally add popcorn to your list.

And so, when it was pitch dark at night, you had opened your door to Hyunjae, fidgeting nervously at the entrance. You laughed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in.

“Don’t be nervous.” You grinned. “It’s just me.”

As you set up the movie, you couldn’t help but notice Hyunjae looking around your apartment. He seemed to be taking in all of your decorations, and the fact that you had more than one cup and plate. You smiled.

“We can go shopping if you want,” You spoke up. “For your apartment.”

He glanced at you in shock. But he eventually nodded with a small smile, that same one you noticed that he often forced when he was tired and down.

Now sitting on the couch, side-by-side but never quite touching, the two of you watched a movie. It was a comfortable silence and whenever you would glance at Hyunjae, he would notice and turn his attention back to you. And every time you would make eye contact, you made sure to give him a bright smile, one that showed him that “I’m always here for you.”

"Staring?" He teased.

"In fact I am," You replied. "Forget the movie, you're the award-winning feature."

He laughed again. The same bright one at the park.

"I didn't take you to be such a flirter," He remarked.

"I'm not," You refuted. "You really are amazing."

He gave you a smile that wasn't so convincing. "If you say so."

Near the resolution of the film, you found yourself scooching over to him, letting your shoulders touch. But that wasn’t exactly enough, so you lifted his arm so that you could rest your head on his chest, his body warmth easily spreading to yours.

“What are you doing?” He muttered.

For a second, you thought he might actually be annoyed. But, when you looked up, you could see his softening eyes and the slight blush on his cheeks. You huffed in amusement and you only persisted, snuggling close to his chest. Eventually, he gave up on the whole tough act and he let his arm wrap around you, rubbing your arm in up-and-down motions.

You didn’t notice that you had fallen asleep.

Though you did briefly remember two… moments. One of them was him cautiously bringing you to your bed. The other being a warm hand softly caressing your cheek.

You woke up alone. Good! Who else did you expect? Rubbing your eyes, there was a constant sound ringing in your ears. The doorbell, you groaned. Stumbling to the door, you were hoping maybe… Hyunjae? But instead, it was your landlord. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

She sighed, shaking her head.

“Bad news.”

When it was Hyunjae this time who had invited you over, you were pleasantly surprised. Opening the door, you could see him sitting at the table, staring intently at his computer.

Tilting your head, you were about to ask what he was looking at. But then he suddenly jumped up, the chair almost falling over. There was a bright smile on his face as he rushed over to you.

“Hyunjae?” You looked at him in confusion.

“I got the job,” He exclaimed. “I got it.”

“You did?” You gasped. “That’s so– that’s amazing! Congratul–” You inhaled sharply when you felt two hands grasp onto your waist. And suddenly, your whole world shifted once you realized that he was literally picking you up and twirling you around. You laughed shyly as you allowed him to, watching fondly at the way he smiled so, so freely.

Once he had slowed down, there was an impending thought in the back of your mind that appeared from all of the adrenaline. He could put you down and you could lean in and maybe… maybe– press your lips to his as an extra cheer. Mentally slapping yourself, you felt your cheeks grow hot. Again, what were you thinking?

His hands were still on your waist, the both of you out of breath. You smiled, giggling softly. He smiled back, his eyes bright and sparkling.

“I’m proud of you,” You finally said.

“It’s all thanks to you,” He replied.

“Hm, well,” You huffed. “Guess who lost their apartment.”

He gaped at you. “What?”

“Not permanently,” You groaned. “But there’s been a technical problem that has to be investigated and fixed. So I can’t stay there for the meantime.”

He looked at you, deep in thought. And then his hands tightened on your waist. “Then stay here with me.”

Now it was your turn to gawk at him. “What?”

“Please.” He smiled. “I owe you.”

You blushed. “I didn’t do much.”

“You did.” He walked forward, nearly caging you against the wall. “Everything. You’ve helped me get this job.” Another step forward. “I’m indebted to you.”

“H-hyunjae,” You stuttered, trying your best to avoid stealing a glance at his lips.

“Just temporarily.”

You made a mental pro and con list. Pros–He was your childhood best friend meaning that he knew you best. Cons–what if things changed? What if you… fell? And you didn’t mean physically.

With a hesitant sigh in defeat, you responded quietly.

“Temporarily.”

When you and Hyunjae had art class together, you learned a little bit more about him. He was always the one who enjoyed the sketching, the outlining with the black pen, and shading in grey. You, on the other hand, were the one who would color in between those lines with vibrant colors, brightening the picture into something truly complete.

That was how you complimented each other. People often painted him out to be cold and blunt, but you always saw past that. It was always you who thought that he was the sweetest person you’ve ever met–the one who took care of you when you were sick and who pulled you away from passing cars.

Just like one of those art projects, you began to liven up his apartment with your own things. Of course, you didn’t bring everything, but the simple pieces of your toothbrush next to his and your coat hung up on the rack, were enough to make the puzzle feel just complete.

Soon enough, the evening came which brought the dilemma of where you would sleep.

“The couch,” Hyunjae spoke up, walking out of the bathroom again, with damp hair. But at least he was fully clothed this time. Still, that vision was practically ingrained into your mind.

“You’re right.” You nodded in agreement. “I’ll–”

“Not you,” He huffed. “Me.”

“Oh,” You breathed out. Abruptly you stood up in defiance. “No!” You blurted out. “That’s rude.”

He looked at you entirely unimpressed. “I’m being a good host. A gentleman.”

“Exactly.” You scowled. “You’re going to make me feel like I’m intruding. And look who invited me in the first place?”

He sighed, glancing at the bedroom door. “There’s only one bed.”

“Then we’ll share,” You replied, completely sure of yourself. Hyunjae didn’t respond so you lifted your chin high and walked past him and into the bedroom as odd as it may sound. However, in the corner of your eye, you could see that his ears were slightly red.

You may have underestimated the sheer awkwardness. Just a bit. Maybe a lot.

The two of you stood on either side of the bed, facing each other, contemplating the fact that this would be the first time you would be sleeping together. Actually, it wasn’t really awkward per se. It was more… hilarious. You pursed your lips, trying to stifle your laughter, while Hyunjae’s cheeks were puffed out in embarrassment.

Again, as the bolder one, you climbed under the sheets first. Still, Hyunjae was just standing, hesitating. You squinted up at him through the darkness.

Even under the dim lighting, you could see that his cheeks were incredibly flushed.

“I think I’ll just go back to the–” He couldn’t even finish his sentence because you were grabbing onto his hand and pulling him down into bed. He didn’t really protest though as you could sense him slowly melting into the warmth of it.

The lamp was off now and you were both succumbed to darkness. It was silent, only the sound of Hyunjae’s calm breathing. You weren’t exactly tired right now. You knew that it would take you a while to fall asleep. But that was fine! You would just wait until he fell asleep first.

Except, when you turned on your side to face him, you could see him staring back, big, round doe eyes on you. So, scratch that. And now you were cold which you weren’t used to. Your apartment was usually the perfect temperature, but this one left you shivering all over.

Unconsciously, you began to shift closer to his body. He’s always been the warm one. That used to be your strategy to not freeze to death when the two of you would walk down the winter festival together.

Suddenly though, you felt an arm across your waist and steady breathing on the side of your neck.

“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, wondering if the chest against your shoulder was just a hallucination.

But then he replied in a quiet, lower voice.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.

Oh, this was more than okay. You were familiar with his embrace. But to feel it just moments before you fell asleep brought a sudden bout of tranquility.

“Perfect.” You smiled to yourself, curling up to his body in which he held you closer in response. It was warm, comforting, just perfect. It didn’t take you a while to fall asleep anymore.

When you awoke, you were slightly—no, very confused about why it was still dark out. You were pretty sure the room should be bright with natural light from the sun. Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. But that was when you glanced at the time. It was still the middle of the night.

When you turned to your side, that was also when you realized that it was Hyunjae who had woken you up. Unknowingly at that. His arm was still around your waist but this time, his hold was almost painfully tight. If you looked closely, you could see that his eyes were screwed shut, his eyebrows twitching with small stuttering breaths escaping him.

But, you’ve always heard the saying that you weren’t supposed to wake someone up from a nightmare. So you hesitated, keeping your hands close to yourself, worriedly watching. At some point, he jolted awake by himself.

Now, his breathing was even faster and he had shot up, looking around frantically. Blinking your eyes sleepily, you turned on the nearby light and sat up with him.

“Hyunjae?” You whispered, looking him over in concern.

He turned to you in a growing distraught state and he widened his eyes. “Are you–”

“It’s just me,” You muttered. “Bad dream?”

Hyunjae froze for a moment but he slowly nodded. And usually, it was you who initiated the hugs. But this time, he was the one who lunged forward, holding you close to his chest. His hands grasped onto you tightly as he buried his nose into your neck.

With the way he was holding you so tightly, so… desperately, you wondered if this had happened before. But still, you allowed him to just hold you close, your own arms coming around to gently pat his back.

You didn’t know when, but he eventually pulled away. He refused to look you in the eye and so you brought a gentle hand to the side of his face, coaxing him to face you.

“How long has this been going on for?” You frowned.

He shut his eyes. “A while.”

Your heart clenched at his quiet response. For the past few days, you had thought he was feeling better, less exhausted. But behind the bedroom door, it must be different.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to tell me–”

“...what they’re about.”

“Oh,” You breathed. “The nightmares?”

He nodded with tired eyes. “But while I was gone–away from you–people I’ve loved, everything I’ve cherished seemed to disappear before my eyes. It wasn’t just work it was… a lot.” His voice was quiet, hard to hear but it was loud enough that you could hear each and every heart-twisting emotion.

You stayed silent, your hand finding his to stroke the back of it soothingly.

“I felt hopeless.” He frowned. “I guess those nightmares felt like I was reliving that all over again.”

He didn’t say anything after that. You watched him cautiously, wondering what exactly to do. But then you felt his hand tighten on yours slightly and that was your cue to shift even closer.

He glanced at you with an ashamed expression that only made the pit in your stomach drop even more. Slowly, slow enough so that he could back away if he wanted to, you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close against you. Almost instantly, he was breathing out a low sigh of relief as he nuzzled even further into your embrace.

“You’re not alone anymore,” You whispered. “And… thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

He didn’t say anything, but when he held you back, it was a perfect answer. The two of you stayed like that, in the dead of night, just holding each other until you began to feel drowsy from his warmth. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve done so. The only difference was that it was always you who needed that extra piece of comfort. It was never Hyunjae. Seeing him open up was different but something that you were most grateful for.

“I never replied to you the day we met in the hallway,” He spoke, interrupting your thoughts.

You pondered for a moment, recalling the memory. “When I said that I missed you?”

He nodded. “I didn’t reply because I was afraid you would still be mad at me for leaving you so abruptly.”

You smiled softly and shook your head, your hand coming up to the back of his head to stroke his hair soothingly. His eyes widened slightly in shock but he quickly melted into your touch. “I was angry at first.”

He laughed quietly, though his voice was watery with unfallen tears.

“But now I’m not,” You whispered. “I promise. I’m just happy to see you again.”

He pulled away to look up at you, searching your face to make sure that you were telling the truth. When you only gazed back with utmost sincerity, he let a small smile tug on his lips.

“I missed you,” He had finally replied, answering your statement from before. “More than you know. It was hard without you.”

Your gaze softened once you noticed the sparkle of a few tears in his eyes and when he blinked, your sleeve was immediately coming up to pat his cheek, drying the ones that had broken free.

“I missed you too,” You responded and gently, you were pulling him back into bed. And this time, without hesitation, he was hooking both of his arms around you, tightening you into his chest.

“...so much,” He muttered sleepily. “I missed you so much.”

“You have me now.”

“Always.” And you felt his hand grasp yours, guiding it to where his heart was, thumping in a soothing rhythm. “In here.”

You were the first one to wake up. It seemed that Hyunjae’s nightmare and tears had left him too exhausted to even notice you unwrapping yourself from his protective embrace. And so, you took it as your duty to cook something decent for him to wake up to.

Except maybe Hyunjae did notice because he opened the door shortly after. You probably should have placed a pillow in his arms before you left. He walked out and you had to stop yourself from cooing because that would be a little bit… weird. But you couldn’t help it because the sight of his hair tousled and messy, his eyes barely opened and puffy from the tears, and his lips pouted adorably, left you smiling with endearment.

“Morning sleepyhead.” You grinned, turning the stove on.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he shuffled over to where you were standing behind the kitchen counter.

You tilted your head in amusement, wondering how he managed to navigate with his eyes barely open. “Are you feeling better?”

Again, still no response. You watched as he circled the counter, positioning himself behind you. And then you gasped quietly once you registered the strong arms that enveloped your waist, pulling you into a warm hug, your back now pressed up against his chest. You could even feel his nose nuzzling into the back of your neck, breathing deeply.

You simply just froze, unable to do anything. Once you realized he wasn’t going to move anytime soon, you turned the stove off and simply allowed him to hug you to his heart’s content. He let out a sleepy hum. Or was it a whine?

“You’re clingy in the morning,” You mused.

“Mhm.” Even his morning voice was cute.

And when you said sleepy, you meant it. Literally–you were pretty sure he fell asleep while back-hugging you in the middle of the kitchen. You practically had to hold on to the counter to brace his weight and when you stole a glance over your shoulder, you had to stifle a laugh. His cheek was smushed into your shoulder and his eyes shut in content.

“O–kay,” You heaved, forcing your body to turn around. And still, he would have almost collapsed into you if you hadn’t planted your hands on his shoulders to hold him up. His head lolled to the side as he peeked an eye open to look at you drowsily.

You chuckled and your hand came up to his hair to ruffle it. Immediately, he was leaning into your touch and when your hand traveled down to cup his cheek, he was nuzzling into it like a puppy.

“I missed you,” He slurred, his voice huskier than usual.

“Mm, you said that already,” You hummed teasingly, a smile threatening to spread across your lips. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He smiled lazily.

“You’re acting drunk and it’s like–” You glanced at the clock. “Seven in the morning.”

“And what about it? I missed you,” He grumbled, an adorable frown on his lips.

“Ah,” You sighed, shaking your head. “Go splash water on your face, you dummy. Then you’ll wake up properly.”

He still didn’t budge. And so, using every single ounce of your strength, you had to carry him all the way to the bathroom as he was still clinging onto you like a koala.

After a few minutes, with the sound of the bathroom sink splashing in the background, you finally managed to start cooking something. But then the door clicked open and you looked up. Hyunjae, his eyes finally open, was blushing so hard that you couldn’t even conceal your laugh anymore.

“Missed me?” You remarked.

He winced in response, his cheeks continuing to flame red.

“I don’t know what got into me,” He muttered, refusing to look you in the eye.

You beckoned him over and he finally looked up at you shyly.

“It was cute,” You teased. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“And what else?” He quickly recovered.

Your breath hitched. Ah, you thought. There he was. The usual Hyunjae when he was fully awake. The one who loved to tease you until you were blushing and hiding your face.

“Don’t do this again,” You groaned.

“Do what?”

“That.”

“You’ll have to elaborate on that, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname, completely unfazed. But when your eyes traveled down, that was when you realized just how close he was. He continued to lean forward until he was caging you against the counter, both of his hands on either side of you. It wasn’t the flirting that got you, it was his body encompassing you so, so effortlessly, making you feel smaller than you really were.

He chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

Oh, this is definitely how best friends act. You were one hundred percent sure about that.

He smirked, tilting his chin down, as his hand traveled from the edge of the counter down to your hip.

Fifty percent.

His eyes wandering elsewhere–somewhere along the lines of your lips.

One percent.

“The breakfast is going to burn,” You stuttered.

He simply licked his lips, his gaze fixated on yours.

“I can always try something else.”

You were screwed.

The first day of Hyunjae’s new job was the very last day of your brief vacation from work. With a sigh, you scrolled through the shows and movies, only for you to ultimately turn off the TV in boredom. You weren’t going to beat around the bush and refuse to admit that you felt lonely without him. Of course, you saw him in the morning, already dressed in a suit (that fit amazingly on him, dare you add), but it was only for a short moment.

He still had nightmares but they were becoming less and less frequent. Sometimes, when they happened, you would just pull him closer and he would immediately relax with a small sigh, almost like you had the superpower to eliminate his night terrors.

And sleeping together never was awkward again. In fact, you adequately enjoyed it–his arms around you and vice versa. Did best friends regularly cuddle at night and gaze at each other for so long that your heartbeat started to speed up? That… you weren’t quite sure about.

Yawning, you found yourself lying down, spreading across the couch. You didn’t even do much today yet your eyes still threatened to shut close.

At some point, you blinked your eyelids open once you heard the door unlocking. Sitting up, you smiled softly at the sight of Hyunjae opening the door. His tie was already loose and his hair was blown up from the wind. Squinting your eyes, you then noticed that he was practically stumbling into the entrance, almost like all of his coordination had dissipated.

His eyes were droopy and his lips pouted from what you would guess to be exhaustion. Everyone’s first day of work was like that. You watched as he set down his work bag and walked over to you, very… very slowly.

“How was work?” You questioned, looking up at him.

And just like last time, he didn’t respond. Silently, he leaned forward and literally–very literally–laid on top of you. His body weight pulled you back down to lie on the couch and his arms were snaking around you as his legs tangled with yours. Speechless, you felt as he nuzzled back into your neck, just like he’s begun to do so often now.

“You look gorgeous today,” He whispered, his voice very oddly slurred.

Your breath hitched. “Are you drunk?”

He looked up at that and you practically choked on air once you realized how close his face was to yours. And then he smiled languidly and shook his head.

“Are you sure?” You searched him for any sign–red cheeks, the scent of the alcoholic drink–yet you couldn’t find any.

“I’m just tired,” He mumbled, planting his face back into the crook of your neck.

“Okay,” You laughed. Gently, your hand came up to his broad back to rub it in circles, the material of the suit rough and honestly quite unsatisfying. But still, you persisted once you felt his tense muscles slowly soften. Slowly though, you came to a stop. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He hummed.

“You need to take a shower,” You huffed. “C’mon.” With all of your power, you pushed him up and off you. Again, his head tilted to the side with a tired smile. You laughed and shoved him until he finally obliged and went off to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you were left there, contemplating his strange behavior. He never acted this clingy before. Not even for the years that you’ve known him. It was only after that particular night that he started to… do this.

When he was done showering, he stepped out. You had hoped that he would be more awake now, but it seemed he was even drowsier than before–too tired to even dry his own hair. With a click of your tongue, you motioned him over to sit down. Like a puppy, his eyes brightened at the sight of you as he obediently followed.

“You’ll catch a cold,” You ridiculed with a worried frown.

After finding a towel, you stepped in between his legs. Carefully, you began to dry his damp hair, marveling at the way his hair curled up after a shower. You rubbed his scalp, making your way around and behind his ears. When you peeked at his expression, you stifled a laugh at the way he basically fell asleep under your touch.

Once you deemed his hair dry enough, you were about to walk away but instead, he abruptly stood up, swaying slightly. And then he fell forward, pulling you into a warm embrace.

You smiled fondly. “Tired?”

It seems that when Hyunjae was tired, he never answered any of your questions, funnily enough. A lot of his answers were just “I missed you” or a small hum. But this… this answer was different. It was spoken so quietly, so softly yet it perfectly resonated through your ears.

“I love you.”

Before you could even say anything or really do anything, he was reluctantly pulling away and heading to the bedroom. Your lips parted as your eyes fixated on absolutely nothing. Just– space. Your whole body had gone rigid as you simply stood there, processing his words. You couldn’t even blink.

Best friends… say that too, don’t they?

It started to become a pattern for the whole first week of his new job. When he was actually fully awake, he told you that the work was demanding yet he never looked so happy and content. Sometimes, you wondered what his past work was like, but you never prodded.

But, because the work was just so demanding, every single day, from Monday to Friday, he came home exhausted. And any person would expect him to just head straight for bed. But like you said, it was a pattern, a usual thing, that he would cling on to you. Apparently, something had shifted in him. Originally, when you saw him exhausted, he would become closed off. But after… that night, he acted almost intoxicated. Not on a drink. But simply off being tired.

You found it endearing actually. His voice was always quieter and he often stumbled over his words this way. His eyes were dazed and soft on yours and he also became ten times heavier as he liked to lay all of his weight on you when he pulled you into a hug. He constantly just seemed to be in a completely different mindset–one that was very… loving and… yeah– different.

He liked to say things too. Slurred and quiet, but he still very clearly said them. You could never figure out if he meant them or if he was just tired and rambling things for the fun of it.

He said “I misssed you” a lot. Occasionally, he would blurt out that you looked pretty or beautiful. Or, it would be a small “hi” accompanied by a shy smile. Sometimes, if he was too tired to say much, he would just giggle over nothing in particular. But… there was one specific phrase that he would say out of the blue.

“I love you.”

That one always left you perplexed. It could be a… platonic thing to say, right? Where did the word “love” come from? You didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of spark of light in the very depths of your heart.

It was weird, really. An out-of-this-world, alien-like thing for a best friend to say. The words I, love, and you arranged in that particular order were never syllables Hyunjae ever let fall from his lips. He never spent any particular ounce of breath to say them.

Yet now he did.

For some odd reason.

But again, he was just tired. Surely.

And just like before, the pattern started all over again. The week was coming to a close so maybe you wouldn’t hear those words again after this. But you didn’t really mind altogether. With a tired sigh, you walked out of the room, now changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.

Right on cue, the main door was unlocking, and once again, the pattern began to unweave itself. He would walk in, with the occasional misstep and stumble. And like usual, he looked tired. Though, you envied his ability to still look… attractive. And then he would look up, search for a particular someone, and do that stupidly lazy smile–the one where his eyes weren’t focused on anything but you.

“What are you doing here?” He giggled–he giggled now, apparently.

You eyed him, completely apathetic. “You let me stay here temporarily, remember?”

He blinked at you with an adorable pout. And then he nodded. “You’re right.” He smiled. “Aren’t you smart?” He pinched your cheek.

Scowling, you wrestled his hands off. And for the first time this week, you finally decided to question his bizarre behavior.

“Why are you acting like this?” You whined, holding him up by his arms so he wouldn’t fall over you like he had done the day before.

“Because I missed you,” He grumbled, his eyes struggling to stay open. “Now let me–”

“Agh,” You groaned. But still, your hands fell to your sides as you let him wrap his arms around your torso, bringing you close to his chest. Whatever made him happy, was your motive. And totally not, I secretly enjoy this.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of his slow breathing against your earlobe. For a minute, you worried that he had fallen asleep already, but he spoke again.

“Have I mentioned how uncomfortable this suit is?” He mumbled. “It’s very hot and–”

You didn’t even say anything. With a sigh–one that wasn’t particularly annoyed, but more… doting–you stepped away. He stared at you in both drowsiness and slight confusion, but his eyes slowly widened once he realized that you were taking off the jacket for him. Gently, you pulled it off his shoulders and down his arms, your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration.

He was quiet, simply watching as your fingers grasped his tie, unloosening it with a sharp pull, causing him to lurch forward, his lips startlingly close to yours.

“Interesting,” He teasingly remarked, but his voice was still slurred.

“Shut up,” You snapped yet there was no malice behind your tone.

Your hands then came up to his collar, unbuttoning the first few buttons to reveal slightly past his collarbones which… you’ve already accidentally witnessed before. With a friendly pat on his shoulder, you deemed him undressed enough. He slowly turned his gaze to you and your breath hitched at the sight– his work attire now loose with his hair slightly messy… ah. Not to mention, his tilted head and sleepy expression that only made things worse.

Clearing your throat, feeling your cheeks burn, you scrambled off somewhere to shove a change of clothes into his hands and left abruptly, your heart thumping. Soon enough–you didn’t know when because you were busy contemplating all of your feelings and the meaning of life–he walked into the bedroom. Undoing the made bed, you motioned him to climb in. Obediently, he followed and you pulled the blankets over him.

“Y/n,” He muttered, grasping your wrist before you could walk away.

“Hm?”

“...love you,” He whispered.

Again, he was just rambling. He was just saying things. He had stumbled over his words and his voice was quiet, so that meant that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it. It was all fake–

“I love you,” He repeated—clearer, louder this time without an inch of hesitation. And this time, he was looking straight up at you, his cheeks slightly pink, flushed.

Maybe it was more real than you had thought.

The first week was over, meaning Hyunjae was more situated at work and most importantly, less exhausted. On the first day of his new, non-intoxicated-on-fatigue persona, he had simply greeted you and strolled past. You wouldn’t admit it fully to him but that simple interaction that did better fit what you guys were–best friends–left you feeling empty inside.

But it was fine. It was just a one-week thing.

Until it wasn’t.

The next day, the pattern appeared again, but it wasn’t… like before.

He was fully awake this time yet he still–

“Hyunjae?” You stammered. The arms wrapped around your waist tightened further as he stood behind you, hooking his chin over your shoulder, and breathing out a low sigh. And now that he was newly… conscious, he did more. His hands began to wander over you in soothing shapes and he pressed his chest further against your back.

“Just stay here with me.”

You could see his soft smile in the corner of your eye. With a bothered huff, you glanced back at him, only for you to inhale sharply at how close he actually was and how… nice his cologne smelt. Oh, and his hands were still wandering.

“I thought you only acted like this when you’re tired?”

He shook his head, shifting even closer, his warmth encompassing you comfortingly.

“Do you want to know something about me?”

“I know a lot about you,” You joked.

But he was quiet, a serious silence befalling the two of you. You gulped and whispered a small “what is it?”

You could hear him huff out in amusement, his hands never failing to leave your waist. “While I was away–when I was at my lowest–I thought of someone all those years.”

And for some reason, you knew exactly what the answer was.

But still, your voice tremored. “Who?”

A squeeze on your waist.

“You.”

Shutting your eyes, you breathed out a shaky sigh and looked down to where he was still hugging you from behind. Your heart was thumping and you were sure he could hear you. And even if he could make out the pounding, he never budged once. Not once did he stop tightening his arms around you and not once did he cease to bury his nose somewhere into your skin, leaving shivers down your spine.

With your heartbeat practically reaching your ears, you nudged him and turned around so that now, you were facing him. Without his dazed, sleepy look, it was just his soft eyes and the slightest tug of his lips, an endeared smile. Without his exhaustion that often left him sluggish, it was just his firm, stronger arms that held you so easily.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered.

“Sweetheart,” He replied, his voice gentle and content. And before, you wouldn’t have paid a single ounce of attention to that nickname because it just seemed like how best friends would fool around. But now… things were different and you weren’t sure how exactly. And so the name sweetheart now left your cheeks flushing.

You swallowed thickly, your breath shortening. “Do you know how much you confuse me?”

His smile only grew. “Elaborate on that.” A pause. “Sweetheart.”

You sighed, biting your lip with mortification. “That. The nickname.”

“Sweetheart? You never said you didn’t like it, I can stop if you want—“

“Don’t!” You rushed to say. You blushed more once you realized he was teasing you again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Not just the nickname. Everything.”

“Like what?” He stepped closer if that was even possible.

You gazed up at him and you were sure you looked frustrated right now, judging by his fond smile. He always said you looked cute when mad.

“You say that you miss me all the time.”

“Because I do.” He dipped his head lower to look at you with those foolish, puppy-like eyes. “I think of you whenever I’m at work.”

“But,” You exhaled shakily. “Do you realize that you say something else?”

You were sure he wasn’t aware. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind whenever he was exhausted. So maybe, he would just stare at you in utter confusion, deny it, and this whole… feeling fiasco would be done and dealt with. But then—

“That I love you?”

Your lips parted in surprise and you peered up at him, wondering if he was just taking a wild guess. But no, the soft, genuine look on his face said it all.

“You… knew?” You stuttered.

“Of course I did,” He chuckled softly. “And I meant every single one.”

Eyebrows furrowing, you stepped backward from shock. As you avoided his eyes, you missed the nervousness and the unsureness that flitted across his face. But, just that one step away left chills down your body–as if being away from Hyunjae and his embrace wasn’t even natural anymore.

And so you stepped forward again. Immediately, you could hear a low sigh of relief escape Hyunjae’s lips and feel his hands snake back around your waist protectively. You weren’t sure what expression was on his face though, as you were very adamant on staring directly at his tie–his chest. You knew that he could still see your reddening cheeks, but you still preferred not to look him in the eye.

“That,” He said quietly. “You’re also quite confusing too.”

“Wh-what?”

“Stepping away and stepping back,” He spoke softly. “Looking me in the eye but refusing to when I say that I love you.” One of his hands left your waist to gently guide your chin up. “So look at me now.”

“I…” You trailed off, feeling yourself go weak just from his soft, loving gaze.

“And one more thing.” He tilted his head teasingly.

A pause. A great moment of silence.

“You don’t say it but you show it.”

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, your heart beating like a loud, intense drum.

“I wasn’t completely unaware.” He smirked. His hand had already left your chin and found its place back to your waist, yet you found yourself staring straight into his dark eyes, stuck in a trance. “I know that you dried my hair with a towel–that you even undressed me. I know that you took care of me.”

You did do that all on your own accord, simply because you thought that you were being a perfectly good friend. But now that you thought about it–you didn’t have to. You could have easily pushed him off, and told him to do everything on his own but you didn’t. And it was all because you–

“So tell me then,” He whispered, his voice quiet–only for you to hear, almost like he wanted you all to himself. “What are we?”

You held your breath, your cheeks growing hot. Your hands rested on his chest and you could feel his heart pound, exactly like yours. He felt the same, you realized. With a shaky sigh, you gazed up at him.

“What do you want us to be?”

He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. “What do I want?”

He slightly reworded your question and you wondered why. But you nodded, your eyes studying his features. His handsome features. They were sharp when you had met him in that hallway. But his keen eyes, the angle of his eyebrows, his perpetual frown–they were just soft, soft on you. No longer was there a frown, but just an affectionate smile.

“What do you want?” You repeated his question, your voice hushed to a whisper.

He leaned in, his gaze warm and gentle, his eyes wandering over each and every detail of your face.

“I want to love you.”

You had expected to inhale sharply, gasp maybe–but no. Because everything made sense to you now. His kind words, his soft and fleeting touches across your body, it all pointed to one thing. And so, instead, you smiled shyly.

“Then love me.”

And just like that, his grip on your hips tightened and he turned you around so that your back was facing the door. He was walking you backward until you felt the hard surface against your shoulder blades and he was leaning down, close enough that if he inched further, he would be kissing you. But he didn’t–not yet.

“May I?” He muttered, looking over you with slight concern.

You nodded, embarrassingly with a bit too eagerness. He laughed softly and then he was fitting his lips against yours as your eyes fluttered closed. The press of it was gentle and tender as he tilted your chin up and angled himself so that it was more comfortable. The kiss was unlike any that you’ve experienced before. It was like the tension that had built up before had completely broken down, as you allowed yourself to just fall.

Fall, physically, almost because you felt your knees go weak, with only the door behind you to hold you up. But his hand traveled back down to your waist, hooking you in against his body, keeping you steady as he muffled a groan against your lips. You couldn’t hear anything but his breathing and the thumping of your own heart.

All you could think of was him–how he could so easily change from rough to soft, how he could push forward so quickly but pull away so easily to allow you a gasp of breath, and how he could make your heart pound yet lull it into a steady rhythm of love. He kissed like he could devour you, but if you decided to peek an eye open, you would see his adorably furrowed eyebrows and his flushed cheeks, showing that he wasn’t anything like that.

He was just a man who needed a bit of a sweetener in his life.

With a quiet noise, he pulled away. Immediately, his eyes searched over your features, making sure that you were okay and that he didn’t do too much. But, when you gave him a smile, your eyes flitting nervously, he grinned and leaned in to grant you another soft kiss.

“How long?” You laughed shyly.

“I came to the realization when you tried to cheer me up whenever I was tired. But I think I’ve already felt this way for a while.” He replied. He pinched your cheek again. “All those dates and extra care that you gave me…very cute thing to do.”

Your eyes went wide. “You… noticed?”

“I notice a lot of things, sweetheart,” He teased. “Like how you’re grabbing onto my suit to pull me into a kiss right now.”

“O-oh,” You stammered, letting go of his crumpled collar. “I didn’t realize I–”

He shook his head and before you could finish your sentence, he was cupping your cheek–something that he’s never done before–and guiding you back to his lips. And this time, his tongue swiped against your lip, making you gasp quietly.

“You taste like candy.” His gaze fixated on your lips.

“I didn’t know you could…” You had to stop for a second to catch your breath. And it wasn’t just because of his exceptional kissing, but it was the beat of your heart, of all of your love. “...you could kiss like that.”

“What can I say?” He tilted his head with a teasing look. “I guess I have a sweet tooth.”

“Trust me on this,” Younghoon whined. “I followed the instructions to the very dot. They’ll taste good. Promise.”

You eyed him skeptically but still, you picked up one of the cookies that he had baked. They looked a little… off, but it should be fine. Taking a bite, you took note of the odd texture, and then the taste started to register on your tongue.

You coughed. You choked. And then you threw the cookie back on the plate.

“Bitter,” You gagged. “It’s so bitter.”

“What?” He cried. “Are you kidding me–”

Your eyes lit up once you remembered your boyfriend who was sitting next to you on the couch. He was busy on his computer, doing some sort of work report but you ignored that, turning to him and grasping his collar tightly. You pulled him in, pressing your lips to his, causing him to let out a small “mmph” in surprise.

But almost instantly, he turned into jelly from your touch, a smile growing on his lips as his eyes fluttered close. He had tried to deepen it desperately but you pulled away shortly after, leaving him to chase after your lips adorably.

Younghoon gawked. “I’m right here.”

“So?” You shrugged, smiling innocently. “At least he tastes sweet.”

“Oh my god,” Younghoon mumbled, getting up to throw the cookies into the garbage can.

Meanwhile, Hyunjae was staring at you in a daze, his cheeks flushed. But, he quickly recovered and he was quick to pounce on you, pressing kisses all over you once Younghoon had left.

“A warning next time would be great.”

He was now hovering over you on the couch, caging you under his arms and his computer long forgotten. The position left you flushing but it was also the perfect one to knee him in the stomach.

He winced in pain. "What was that for?"

"A warning, you said," You mocked. "When literally yesterday you kissed me up against a wall in your own workplace."

"That's an exception." He smirked. "You liked it, didn't you?"

"I..." You blushed, remembering the way he had kissed you so fervently, dressed in that suit and tie, the thrill of getting caught still running through your veins. "It was alright."

"Sure, sweetheart," He whispered in a teasing tone. He looked annoying handsome like this, with that amused smile that contrasted his soft, loving gaze. "Then I'll make sure you like this one."

Oh, how you despised him.

And then his lips were on yours again, swallowing up any shy noises that threatened to escape you. But just before he did, he had whispered three quiet words against your lips.

"I love you."

And how you loved him too.

#deoboyznet #yumi 💞 hyunjae #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader #requests 💞#fics 💞

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 1 month

Note

yves never tells u why he likes u so I wonder how he’d react if u forced him to explain himself because u won’t believe him otherwise. and when I say forced I mean that he can’t distract u from it. u demand a 30 page essay explaining in great detail why he loves u. maybe u even ask “would u love me if I was as worm” on occasion

His answer will change depending on your personality, he will tell you what you want to hear and you will fall for it and walk away satisfied.

However, his true reasons consist of his entire, freakishly obsessive nature of his data vault. All five acres and counting; revealing the truth will undoubtedly spook you to death and serves more of a punishment than a reward. Yves couldn't fit all the reasons in a 30 page essay no matter how he tried as he loves every trait, every thought, every molecule and every atom of what makes you, you.

It's not to say that the reasons he would provide you are false, they're also true. It's just the most vanilla ones he picked for you to hear, the most romantic and sane sounding ones. Yves would gladly churn out a one foot thick journal with proper citations and appropriate evidences, which he thinks is too short given the magnitude of his adoration for you.

But it is already clear from his painfully simplified reasons why he's willingly, eternally devoted to you, that the love he holds is undeniably unconditional and undying. Yves loves the best and the worst parts of you, the most mundane parts and the most complicated ones. Things that you didn't even realize yourself and things you never thought were worthy of attention.

He loves you for existing. For being in this world or the next.

Yves already knows the question about loving a person if they were a worm, even before the advent of the internet as couples and children would ask their loved ones questions of similar nature.

He already did extensive research on how to provide the best care for any species of worms, in the whimsical advent where you would turn into one. He has your terrarium sketched out, with enough enrichment a worm could ever have. A list of foods that worm-you might like.

If you actually did turn into a worm, he has no issue spending days observing you in your element, laptop, clipboard pen and pencils nearby to jot down any findings. Just like how he's already doing with you as a human- except when you're a worm, he doesn't need to be as discrete in his stalking and watching.

Oddly enough, if given the chance, he would also want to turn into a worm like you. So that he could just cuddle you, in his own wormy way. No thoughts, just you and peace.

But to sum it up as shortly and accurately as possible, you are his one and only hyperfixation. That term criminally underestimates the permanent, everlasting and perpetual interest and obsession he has for you. You are quite literally, his everything, his will to live and his ultimate purpose. He will follow you to the boundaries of the universe and beyond, loving every version of you and trying his best to fulfil your every wish just to see you smile.

Yves orbits around your world, and he is very happy with it. Nothing will wean him off you, you're forever stuck in his unyielding arms, Yves engulfing you like this protective yet suffocating cage.

Like a celestially indestructible parasite.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader

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halfbloodprill · 2 months

Note

brat taming w/ luke pls pls pls pls pls

authors note- so sorry this took me a sec to get to. i’ve been so busy with school ugh 🤦‍♀️ anyway, i love this idea smmm thank u for the request. pleaseee keep sending requests guys! anyway- enjoy!

flirting with the random guys from the ares cabin was not the smartest move, but only way to get back at luke. your day was going great until you went to visit luke during his sword fighting training. you were so excited to go visit your boyfriend. you stopped dead in your tracks as you approached the sword fighting arena and your smile dropped. you knew your boyfriend was popular and many whispered about your relationship, but the blatant flirting from this random girl was too much. she was batting her eyes as luke grabbed her hand to adjust her grip on the hilt of the sword. she looked up through her lashes and bit into her lower lip, begging for a reaction from luke but he ignored.

“ hey that’s much better!,” luke exclaimed at her progress.

“only because you’re such a great teacher, luke,” she said playfully and shoved him in the chest lightly. that was the last straw for you. the way he wasn’t even brushing her off bothered you. so you ignored him for the day.

now it was the time for the nightly bonfire and you sat on the complete opposite side of luke, nestled between two guys in the ares cabin. you were giggling and lightly touching one of their forearms, making a show to express the great time you had as you flitted between both of them. you could feel luke’s hard and unwavering gaze as he watched his girlfriend shamelessly flirt with two campers that she didn’t even know.

Luke had enough when he finally saw you lay a soft hand onto the one on your lefts chest. He got up quickly and stormed around the fire to you. His anger rolled off of him and fed into the flame, making it rise higher, almost high fiving the stars.

“Get up. Now,” luke said firmly.

“Aw why? I’m having such a good time right now,” you responded as you glanced between the two Ares children.

“I’m not gonna ask you again. get the fuck up or I swear to the fucking gods.”

His tone was harsh and demanding and made your eyes widen. He had never spoken to you like this before.

“Hey you shouldn’t talk to her like that,” one of the Ares kids spoke up.

“I wasn’t fucking talking to you. Get up now.”

So you did. You quickly sat up and before you could say goodbye, Luke firmly grasped your wrist and dragged you to the empty cabin.

“Gods you’re such a fucking slut, ya know that? Flirting with not one, but two guys is even a lot for you. You just need so much attention, you attention whore,” luke spat out vehemently.

“Maybe if you weren’t flirting with that fucking girl at the sword fighting lessons I wouldn’t act this way!” you spat back at him.

Luke quickly crossed the room to you and forcefully grabbed your face.

“Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t you ever speak to me like that.”

Your eyes were wide. This was a new side of Luke entirely. He had never put his hands on you like that. Your lips quivered.

“Yessir. ‘m sorry, sir,” you said in a small voice.

“Aww- now i’m sir? glad you know your place. You’re my little girl, but you’re not being good. We can fix that, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly at his words.

Now here you were. Leaning back into lukes chest as his hands toyed with your clit and two fingers plunged into your tight, warm cunt at an unforgiving pace. You mewled at the pace he had set. Luke was leaning over your shoulder to watch as his fingers disappeared into your hole, cream gathering at the base of his knuckles.

“Luke- cant. Cant take it. It’s- It’s too much, please,” you whined as your hips were bucking into his hand.

“Oh no baby. You can take it. You would’ve taken it if it was those two guys, so you’re gonna take anything i give you, slut. That’s all you are at the end of the day. Just a hole to be filled.”

You threw your head back onto his shoulder as your eyes screwed shut from the intense amount of pleasure you got from his fingers.

“Fuuck feels so good. I can take it. I’m your good girl. Let me cum, please!” you continued to squirm on the bed.

“Oh yes baby. You can cum. you got it. Let go for me yeah?” luke praised into your ear. His warm breath on the shell of your ear was enough and you felt that knot in your stomach snap. You let out a loud moan at this feeling but still felt his fingers plunging into your puffy cunt.

“Cant. cant take it anymore. Please stop. Luke Please! It’s too much,” your words slurred together at the overstimulation.

“No you’re gonna take it. Thought you were my good girl. I guess not. Maybe that other girl has better pussy than you. Should Ingo find out?” luke mocked.

“No! No! ‘m your good girl. Only me. I was- was made for you-Fuck!” you were his. and he was yours. you two were destined to be together and this wouldn’t be foiled by some random girl that wasn’t even claimed. she has no right to luke much less a cabin at this camp.

“ That’s what I thought, baby. Now come on. Lean forward. let’s see how good you take this cock,” luke said before lifting you up and pushing you onto your hands and knees. It was a few seconds before you felt his tip sliding through the wetness of your folds.

“Mmm this pussy is so good. listen to her. she’s so wet. wish you could see how pretty she is. My favorite girl. So fucking perfect baby girl.”

Without easing in, luke thrusts in one go and fills your cunt with his cock.

“Oh fuckkk,” luke groans out as he bottoms out in your sweet cunt. “That’s a good pussy. Feels so good. So tight, like it was made just for me. You were born to just be my cock sleeve. That’s all you’re good for, baby. Taking cock. You wanted to take their cocks instead of mine. Cock hungry slut,” luke ends with a strong thrust that make stars burst into your vision. He pulls out completely and thrusts back in fully. His grip on your hip is tight, sure to leave bruises. He’s moving at an incredible speed. He’s hammering into you. The cabin is filled with the sounds of your squelching cunt, the sound of slapping skin, and the groans, moans and whimpers you two are letting out.

“Lukeee fuck please. This is so good. I’m sorry sir, I’m your good girl. I’m yours. Only yours,” you say as your face drops into the bed and furthers your arch.

“That’s a good girl. You know what your purpose is. You’re mine. Gonna mark you as mine. So everyone can see this shit. You belong to me you fucking slut. don’t ever forget that shit again. Such a fucking brat. I treat you like a princess and this is how you repay me? I shouldn’t have even let you cum.”

You whine at the threat. Lukes pace is unrelenting. His cock is glistening with your arousal and it’s dripping down your thighs and puddling into the sheets. He feels himself getting closer. You both feel the sense of your impending climax. after a few more thrusts, you cum. your cunt clenches around his cock.

“Oh shit baby. You’re so good. Yes that’s a good pussy. Good girl my sweet little girl. Gonna have to make you full. Make you my breeding bunny. No one is gonna mess with you when you’re full of my cum. Gonna cum in you as many times until it takes. You’re mine.”

And with that, luke shoots ropes if his seed into you, leaving you twitching at the foreign feeling.

#smut #luke castellan x reader smut #luke x reader #luke x reader smut #charlie bushnell #luke smut #dom luke #pjo smut #percy jackon and the olympians

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pennyserenade · 1 year

Text

IT’S NEVER OVER

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x reader rating: mature (no explicit sex but language and content is 18+ regardless) tags: fluff/comfort, some angst but just a little word count: 2.5k+ summary: dieter asks you to go to the opening night of his play and you do. for this he rewards you handsomely. a/n: this was the most fun i had writing in a very long time and i want to thank all of you who encouraged this in me. i love u & i hope you enjoy ex-husband dieter as much as i do <3

For most, divorce is definitive, final. It’s the last act that two people make as a couple, signing their names on a piece of paper that divides their lives the same way the marriage certificate connected them. If Dieter was any other man, it probably would’ve been that way for you, but Dieter is Dieter; he marches to the sound of his own drum.

You aren’t obligated to him, but sometimes he asks you to do things and you say yes like you are. Your five year marriage bore no children — a willful decision on both your parts — and you never felt it was fair to do something like get a dog, because even on the best days you knew you would’ve only done it to cope with being lonely in a relationship you shouldn’t be lonely in. So there’s no reason at all that you should still keep in touch with Dieter, but you do. Five years of marriage and three years of dating before that bonded you to him. You’re used to him. Comfortable. Maybe even achingly in love—but in a more platonic shade than before.

On Sunday of last week, he had asked you to attend the opening of his play and you had said that you would. He told you he’d set two tickets aside for you, in case you wanted to bring someone, but you didn’t. You can see the relief in his eyes as you make your way to him. The throng of actors that occupy the backstage area make it hard to get to him, as they all seem to want him, but the moment he sees you, he parts the sea of them for you with his own self. He meets you somewhere in the middle.

“You made it,” he says quietly, “I know you said you would but, you know….I don’t know.” He shrugs, smiling.

You kiss his cheek. “You did great tonight, kid.”

“God, I’m glad you came.” Dieter brings your body in for a hug and you let him, taking in his scent and feeling a wave of comfortable nostalgia. His voice betrays his anxiety and you hold onto him a bit longer than you should because you know he gets. Even after his best performances, he was always plagued with self doubt and worry. That’s why you came tonight.

‘We’re all so vain, actors. I can’t get over myself,’ he had told you once, on a night much like this one. And he was right, you came to find: Dieter really could not get over himself. But you don’t hate him for it anymore. He wears it anxiously tonight, that strain of vanity. It’s not like the bad times. You even feel the desire to hold his hand.

He lets go of you when a woman to the right — the girl who played his girlfriend in the play — taps him on the shoulder. She is a beautiful young woman, about ten years his junior. “Who’s this?” she asks him, smiling.

“My wife.” He responds. As soon as he says it, you get an idea of just what he’s been doing to prepare for this play of his. The woman tries not to let her face fall, but you know from experience that Dieter could make even Meryl Streep break character with his nonsense. You touch her arm and say, “I’m his ex-wife and you did a very good job tonight. I don’t make it to many plays anymore and it was a real pleasure to see this one.”

The woman relaxes visibly. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked the show. I was just coming to tell Dieter how lovely he did.”

Dieter stares at her like he doesn’t know what to do with her. This poor girl, you can sense how much she doesn’t understand him. He can’t get over himself, you want to tell her, just to assuage the fear you know too well. But then he smiles - a genuine smile - and he tells her he couldn’t have done it without her.

And it makes you mad, and then sad, and then unsure if you know him either. You don’t meet with Dieter often because this happens at least once every time; you think you know every bit of him and then some part of him has changed, been made better, and you wonder bitterly “Why couldn’t you have done that for me?”

Tonight it passes quickly. He touches the small of your back and brings you closer to him than to the woman he’s very obviously fucking. She sees this. You see her see it and you watch as he doesn’t get it all over again.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she manages, before disappearing back into the crowd of celebrating actors behind you.

Dieter watches her go, brows creased. He hums. “Hm.”

You click your tongue. “You ought to be ashamed.”

His dark eyes shift towards you. “I’m positively mortified. Trust me.”

“Good. You’ll apologize to her?”

“I’m in the habit of it these days. Better than I used to be.”

“I’m glad. You can be—“

He cuts you off, “A bit of an ass. I know. I get real neurotic on opening nights. I hate them.”

“Are you going to the after party?” You straighten the tie of his costume instinctively. You don’t get embarrassed by the act once you realize what you’re doing. Dieter doesn’t make you feel like you ought to be.

“Thank you,” he says, “But no. I know you don’t like those things and I wanted to see you tonight. Please don’t get mad but—“

“Dieter.” You scold him preemptively.

“—but I bought out the movie theater. That one we used to go to. I know you said doing things like that isn’t fair to you but you said that like, three years ago, and I promise I’m not trying to fuck you or anything. I mean, if you want, I’m not saying I wouldn’t but that’s not the purpose.” He pauses, then says, “Ignore that last part. I didn’t mean it that way. I wouldn’t have sex with you, but I wanted you to know that I still think you’re good looking and would if life had been different.”

He looks at you expectantly and you feel the will in you fall away. “What if I had a date?” you ask, ignoring his ramble for his own sake.

Dieter shrugs. “I guess I would’ve asked him if he—“ He watches your face “—or she? If they liked James Stewart.” Someone bumps into you, pushing closer, into Dieter. He grabs your shoulders to steady you. “Do they like James Stewart?” he asks.

You shrug him off, shaking your head. “I like James Stewart.”

“I know you do. Mr. Smith Goes To Washington.”

“That makes me cry.”

“I know it does. But that one’s your favorite.”

“But you like Rope better.”

“I like you and I wanted to do something for you.” When he says that, he looks ahead of you, at the people crowding around you. He’s avoiding eye contact, knows he shouldn’t have said it but he couldn’t help himself. You’re not angry with him. You pat his hand affectionately so he knows it.

“Thank you. Sometimes it’s nice to know I’m liked and remembered.”

He looks at you incredulously. “You’re kidding me.”

“Absolutely. I know you’re too fond of me and always will be. It gets me by.”

This makes him laugh. The sound of it makes you grin. “Let’s go.” Dieter tugs on your arm, nodding his head to the direction of his dressing room. “I’ll get undressed and we can head to the theater.”

You shake your head. “I’ll meet you by my car when you’re done.”

His eyebrow furrows, then he realizes. His face falls, and you know you’ve hurt him with the implication.

“I have no interest in hurting some girl tonight, Dieter. She’s bound to be watching and I’d rather save her a little bit of heartache than turn my back to the wall while you get undressed.”

He frowns, but nods his head. “You’re too good for me, you know? I wouldn’t make you turn your head, though. You've seen it before and I’d like to think it looks mostly the same.”

“I know I’m too good for you.”

He clicks his tongue this time. “Give her an inch and she takes a mile,” he says as he disappear through the crowd. You hear the joke in voice even if you can’t see his face.

You watch the back of him for a moment.

As you make your way to the car, you smile more genuinely than you have in a few days. Despite yourself, you love him immensely and you know he loves you too. It feels nice, even if you make a joke of it. He’s family to you. Not a husband, but a friend.

He was always such a good friend.

———

“Oh, kid.”

James Stewart’s young face, wasted away with exhaustion, and his voice hoarse from desperation, never fails to make you cry. He stands in front of his piles of fan mail and is so damned earnest in the face of evil, it makes you ache. Dieter used to think that this movie was too sentimental, but you wore him down over the years. He sniffles now too when it gets to this scene, but nothing like the pitiful sobs you let out.

He hands you a napkin and you wipe your eyes. You watch intently as Jimmy collapses onto the floor from pure exhaustion. You let out another sob the same time as Jean Arthur calls out to Jimmy. You hear Dieter’s soft laughter and you know you’re ridiculous, but you can’t help yourself. He knows this is how you get when you watch this.

“God, this movie.” You shake your head and wipe your nose.

You watch the rest of the movie in silence — or at least, without acknowledging your cries. When the movie ends and the soft hue of lights crowns over the empty theater, you turn to Dieter and sigh. He’s a little red in the eyes too, you note, but he looks at you in pure delight. There’s a fondness to it, though, so you let him live.

“I can’t believe you used to think that was too sentimental.” You shake your head, huffing, getting angry at this younger Dieter. “That was so—that was acting!”

He holds his hands up in defense. “I know! I don’t think that now, you know? I think it’s good.”

You scoff, still infuriated with the Dieter that had told you this was the worst of Jimmy’s works. “You said it was American propaganda!”

He laughs. “I was trying to sound clever. I was too serious of an actor at the time. I’m sorry for having committed that crime many, many moons ago.”

You shake your head, letting the last of your tears fall. “I’m heartbroken.”

Dieter laughs. “But it worked out in the end. I can’t understand why this movie breaks your heart.”

“Because he had to fight so hard.”

Dieter softens. “That’s right,” he tells you, handing another napkin over, “I forgot about that—about why it breaks your heart.”

“It’s silly but I can’t help it.”

“It’s not silly. I married you for things like that. I loved those things. I love them now. I couldn’t remember why I liked watching this with you so much until now, but that’s exactly it. Because he fights so hard it makes you cry.” He squeezes your hand and the casualness of those words hit you straight in the gut. You’re glad to already have cried violently because if you haven’t, you’re certain that would’ve made you.

“I’m gonna die, I’m so sad.”

“Do you want to get high? Will that help?”

You shrug, blowing your nose. “I haven’t in a long time.”

“I brought a pen.”

You debate it for a moment. “I shouldn’t.”

“Alright, but we’ve got this theater all night.”

“All night? I thought you just got it for this movie.”

He nods. “I did, but they don’t let you buy the whole movie theater out for just one showing. Not for me anyways, but I don’t care because I used to sneak into movies when I was younger here and this feels like a kind of karma.” That makes you laugh and he claps his hand. “The cloud is lifting. You’ll make it out alive after all.”

You lean back in the chair, wiping away the rest of your tears and most of your makeup. You sigh. “I care just like he does, don’t I?” You look at Dieter.

“It’s so human of you, don’t change it. Please.” He takes your hand in his. “I always wanted to tell you that, that you care just like that, but I knew you’d take it wrong when we were married. We used to fight all the time for really stupid reasons. But it’s different now.”

“We’re friends.” You look down at your linked hands.

“In a fashion, sure, but I like to think we’re more too.” You quirk your eyebrow. “Not like that—like lovers or whatever, but I don’t know. I know you get it too. You can probably explain it better than me.”

“Oh.” You smile and crinkle your nose. “We’re friends,” you repeat. This time he nods his head. “Yeah.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence. You sit with that knowledge.

“Thank you,” he says suddenly.

“For what?”

“For keeping me in your life. That was honorable of you. I don’t deserve it after the way I treated you during our marriage.”

You wave his words away. “Marriage brought out the very worst of us. This is the best of us. What we did to each other then, I don’t think it’s a reflection of who we are.”

“Yeah but I did the most damage. I know that. I left you alone a lot.”

The pad of your thumb rubs the back of his hand and you watch it as it does, as if you’re not in control of it. “Maybe you did. But it’s finished. We stopped that battle a long time ago and we’re in the clear now. You’re nicer, kinder.”

“I should’ve been all that then. I really loved you.”

“You really love me now. That’s enough for me.”

Dieter reflects. Then he says, “In another life, I’ll find you again and I’ll do it right.”

Giving him back his hand, you shake your head. “I think we’re doing just fine in this one. I think this is where we were meant to be. This is the kind of love that we do the best with.”

“You don’t miss it, the way we used to be?”

“God, all the time, but it was never like this.”

“I guess you’re right. We do get along better. I don’t feel like I disappoint you anymore.”

“You don’t. Tonight is the most fun I’ve had in weeks, and I even cried my eyes out.”

He smiles softly.

“You want to know something?” you ask him. He nods his head. “Nothing in the world makes me feel better than knowing you want me when I’ve got nothing to give you but my friendship. Men don’t want women like that.”

“I’ll always want to be your friend.”

“Then you will be,” you respond, “In the next life too. I promise.”

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #the bubble #dieter bravo #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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s3lcth · 11 months

Text

The way back to you

pairing: myung jaehyun x reader

genre: fluff, a little of angst

n/a: so here it issss!!! it turned out pretty long hshahakak. i hope u like ittt!!! 💕💕

"I'm telling you that school's about to be the end of me, and all you can think of is inviting me to a damn study group?!" Leehan groaned at his best friend's proposal "The afternoon is for resting, right Yn?"

"Yeah, but if you used it to study a bit it wouldn't be a big deal" you opined as you sipped some of your juice. "Try not to fail so many this term, come on."

"You don't understand" he complained, offended "I don't want to be your friend any more".

"As you wish" replied Taesan dryly.

"Well, better not" he rectified himself, grabbing your arm.

"Anyways, see you later, little guys" you said goodbye, ruffling both boys' hair.

"Just because you're a year older than us doesn't make you taller, you know" Leehan defended.

"Shut up, I'm five foot seven, I'm the tallest in my class" you pleaded, making a seven with your hands.

"Yeah, whatever you say" and Taesan pushed you into your class.

As you walked in, your eyes darted to your seat, which was occupied by someone else resting their head on the window. You thought about saying something to him, but let it pass. It was the first day of term and they would still have to change places.

"Yn!" you heard your name being shouted "Why the hell haven't I seen your face all holiday?" exclaimed one of your friends.

"You know my law" you announced, responding to your friend's hug "Holidays are for resting and school is for suffering"

"Well, you could have at least not left me and the rest of us stranded" and when you were about to speak, she interrupted you "And don't tell me it's for your health" then, the girl walked towards a free seat.

When the class started, the first thing the teacher did was to change the seats.

Your friend was placed next to a short-haired girl and you next to the boy who had stolen your seat.

"Hello" you greeted him "I'm Yn".

"Hi" he replied with a shy, but at the same time big, smile "I'm Myung Jaehyun" Myung Jaehyun. For several seconds, his name kept repeating over and over in your head. It was him. There he was, after so long.

For a while, his eyes only looked at you I amusement.

"No way... It's really you?" he whispered, his eyes wide as saucers "You remember me, don't you? Don't you?" he exclaimed, excited.

"Of course I remember you, Jaehyun. How could I forget you?" you said with a smile identical to his. "What are you doing here... How come...?"

"You two in the back, be quiet!" a teacher shouted at you. You both fell silent, giggling under your breath.

The class soon began. It was merely introductory: the teacher introduced himself, talked about what he was going to teach during the course, and then had you introduce yourself to the class. You were rather absent for the whole hour, exchanging glances with your deskmate from time to time, until it was time for him to introduce himself.

"Hello, my name is Myung Jaehyun. I'm new to Seoul and my hobbies are sports, especially football. I also like dogs very much." His presentation was brief, but it reminded you of some of the childhood moments you spent with him.

......

"Jae, your mom says let's go home!" you shouted to him from the side of the small football field in your village, where he played with other children. You never liked football, so you usually stayed on the side playing basketball.

"But it's still too early!" he protested, although he was walking towards you. "I'll race you to my house, whoever wins has to buy the other a lemon candy tomorrow" he bet, before running off. You didn't take long to follow him either, but Jaehyun was always faster.

"Someday I'll beat you.... Someday" you swore, panting, leaning against the door of your house.

"Pinky promise?" he asked, showing his little finger.

"Pinky promise" you assured.

......

After school was over, you rushed to the bathroom. When you came back, you found Jaehyun at the door, talking to your two friends.

"Speaking of the devil..." whispered Taesan, waving to you. You walked over to where everyone was standing.

"We were talking about going out this afternoon, have you already started the academy, Yn?" Leehan questioned.

"I'm starting today, but I'm leaving earlier. I think around six" you reported, walking into class to get your backpack.

"So... How about we meet at the football field near your academy?" suggested Leehan, in a somewhat excited tone. If one thing was clear to you from so many years of friendship, it was that the boy loved meeting new people and befriending them, so you weren't opposed to the idea, in fact, you were even looking forward to it.

"Fine by me" said Taesan, scrolling down his phone.

"If you want to..." you commented, as you didn't really care what they were going to do. What you wanted was to be with Jaehyun, to know why he was here, what had become of his life.

Suddenly, you all looked at the young boy, who seemed lost in thought.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" asked Leehan, snapping his fingers in your friend's face.

"Me? Eh... Sure! Anywhere's fine. I'm not quite settled yet, you know..." he explained, scratching the back of his neck, smiling. Oh, that smile.

"In that case, have Yn give you the address of his academy and the two of you go there together, right?" proposed Taesan, with a small sideways smile. "After all, the two of you already knew each other before."

Jaehyun and you looked at each other, small smiles escaping your mouths. "Sure" you said.

......

"If I don't try harder this year, I'm going to fail everything!" your friend complained, leaning her head on your shoulder. How come all your friends were failing?

"It's the last year, what can you do..." you comforted her, patting her head. In the distance, you saw someone look sideways, probably looking for you.

"Oh, here you are!" he exclaimed when he saw you. It was Jaehyun, who came running up to your side as you waved goodbye to your friend.

"Shall we go?" you proposed, trying to hide your excitement. He nodded his head, signalling for you to pass in front of him.

On the way you talked about everything. You found out that he was in Seoul because his father had been promoted in his job, which made you very happy, as you remembered that, when you still lived in the village, his family had a hard time making ends meet.

When you arrived at the field, you saw your friend's mouth drop open in amazement. Although it wasn't the biggest, it was much bigger than the one in your village.

"Are you telling me this is a public facility?" he asked, surprised, hesitating whether or not to enter.

"If it were private, they'd all be there?" you pointed to your two friends and your brother, who must have joined them at some point "Come on in" you offered, giving him a little push in the back.

From afar, you watched as Leehan waved his arm to greet Jaehyun. He walked over to them, who started playing on a patch of field, while you were in the bleachers, until you decided to go for a basketball. You put on your headphones and started practising your shots, as you had a tournament coming up and it wouldn't hurt to practise.

Suddenly, you noticed someone hugging you from behind. Startled, you looked back at Jaehyun, who had stolen your headphones. They were playing 'Will you kiss me' by Playful kiss.

"Do you still listen to this song" questioned the boy grabbing the ball that you had dropped from the scare. " Wanna play?" he offered.

"And the rest of them?" you nodded your head towards where they were.

"Never mind, they're resting" he clarified, passing you the ball.

......

You were humming your favourite Playful Kiss song while playing basketball, when your ball escaped and hit the light blue radio resting on the floor.

"There you are!" shouted a small Jaehyun in the distance. You turned to him, ball in hand. "Are you done playing, Jae?" confused, you asked. Suddenly, the boy grabbed you from behind to take the ball, starting to bounce it.

"Wanna play?" he offered, passing you the ball. "Whoever loses has to buy the other one a lemon candy."

Getting carried away by the competitiveness, you played against him, although he ended up winning.

"Someday I'll beat you" you vowed, taking your ball back.

"Pinky promise?

"Pinky promise" you assured, interlocking both fingers.

......

It had been several days since Jaehyun's arrival in the city and you couldn't be happier. You were together almost every day with the others. But there was something that didn't quite fit.

Every time he gave you a smile, yours came out without a thought. His unintentional touches on your hand when you walked side by side made your cheeks turn pink. When he opened a door for you or when he shared his food with you, your stomach seemed to want to escape from inside you.

And you didn't want to accept what you felt. You didn't want to ruin what had just re-formed between the two of you over a useless feeling. That's why you tried to let it go, until that day came.

It was a hot summer afternoon and the amount of clouds in the sky ensured a storm, yet your group of friends decided to go out and play on the football field for a while.

This time, Jaehyun played basketball with you all afternoon, which was not beneficial to your plan to end your apparent feelings for him.

Suddenly, you noticed a drop fall on your face. Then another, another, another... And a great storm formed under your heads.

Taesan, Leehan and Sunho took shelter under the bleachers and, as you were about to follow them, Jaehyun grabbed your arm and pulled you, making you run after him unconsciously.

Both your bodies were covered in water from head to toe, but it didn't seem to matter. Holding hands, you and your friend ran aimlessly through the city, your laughter the only thing that could be heard. Suddenly, Jaehyun stops.

"I'll race you, whoever wins has to buy the other a lemon candy," he said, as if you had suddenly gone back in time. Then he ran off. But this time something different happened. You won.

"You kept your promise, I guess I'll have to buy it this time," sighed Jaehyun, feigning annoyance.

When he gave it to you, you quickly popped it in your mouth. "It tastes like victory" you thought.

"There's one thing I've always wondered," you began, "why do you like lemon candy so much?" he smirked.

"Because they remind me of you" you looked at him confused "They produce a bitter sensation at first, but then it's so sweet, they're refreshing and, most importantly, I love them" He looked straight into your eyes, then, he and directed his gaze to your lips, then to your eyes again.

He gently placed the palm of his hand on your cheek, still wet from the rain. Slowly he brought his face closer to yours, when an unexpected gust of wind blew all your hair into your face. He let out a little chuckle, as you felt the ground fall away from you in embarrassment.

"Wait... Let me just..." He whispered as he put your hair back in place "We're good now, can I?" you just nodded, letting yourself get caught up in the moment. At that time your plan was a thousand miles away.

His lips were soft and savoured the taste of the candy you had just eaten. One of his hands was still on your cheek while the other rested loosely on your waist. Your hand went up to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair; the other was on his chest.

As soon as you parted, Jaehyun hid his head in the crook of your neck, hugging you while smelling your scent, which was more wet than anything else.

"I love you so much, you can't imagine how this years without you have been" he said, keeping his head in the same place. You started rubbing his back up and down.

"I love you too, Jae" you said that in a really soft whisper "I mean it, I don't think I can ever let you go again" you lifted his face with both your hands, his watery eyes looked at you as if he could see your soul, and in a way he did. You ran your hand through his hair, uncovering his forehead to leave one more peck there. He coughed, suddenly feeling nervous, cheeks on fire.

"Well... Don't you think the rest of them are looking for us?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah,I think so, come on" you ordered, taking his hand as you laughed.

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awooghan · 1 year

Text

24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part one)

➳ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader

➳ GENRE: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas

➳ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, long as hell, i put the ‘slow’ in slowburn (in my defense this trope does not work without it), i’ve checked like 1922847473 times for inconsistencies but if there are any pls be nice it’s my first long fic ;w;

➳ WORD COUNT: 47.7k (part one: 25.9k; part two: 21.8k) i'm so sorry

➳ SUMMARY: “stay for christmas?” was a phrase jeongin first uttered to you when you were both ten years old, but neither of you had any idea the bond those three little words would hold as the years go by. (inspired by “24 to 25” by stray kids)

➳ NOTES: IT’S FINALLY UP!! i’m so sorry for the wait, i really really wanted to get this right and it took me wayyy longer than i thought it would. but i love how it turned out and i'm so proud of it. i hope y’all enjoy :’)

i’ll include more to the note when i'm not in such a rush to get this posted but tysm to everyone who helped me in writing it! @crispy-chan jas thank you for beta reading (i’m so sorry it was so long) your comments were really sweet and really reassured me that i was doing okay <;33 thank u @pearleechai and @gloseoks for helping me out with that one part i got stuck on for like a week lmaooo. to elsa specifically, ty for all ur help and encouragement in the couple chapters i asked for help on :D i’m sorry it meant u had some of the fic spoiled for u tho ;w; lastly, @svtbabies hopie u have been my lifesaver from start to finish w this fic. thank u so so much for planning w me and for the multiple times you’ve saved me from a huge writer’s block. i wouldn’t have been able to complete this without you, so ty for everything <33 also ty for the banner lol

➳ IMPORTANT!!! this fic is so long that i have to split it into two parts. i'd use the legacy editor but i can't toggle btwn the two anymore 😭 i did not intend for it to be this lengthy but anything for childhood friends to lovers i guess

[part one] | part two

network tags: @straykidsland

9 years old. (prologue)

“Come on, Y/N, you can’t cling onto my shirt forever,” your mother urges you with a small chuckle.

You stiffen up in your spot at the edge of the picnic bench, and your eyes bounce between the several children on and around the playground equipment. Mixtures of squeals and cheerful laughter ring above the Christmas song playing from the outdoor speaker your new neighbors, the Choi family, set up. You forgot if it was the one with the son older than you or the son your age, though—you didn’t exactly bother to learn their names when your mother introduced you.

“Go on, Y/N.” Her voice fills your ears again as she gently pushes you off the bench. Speak of the devil.

Shoving your hands in your pockets, you kick the dust with your feet and you keep your gaze cast down on the ground. You didn’t want to socialize—why would you want to make new friends when you had perfectly good ones back in your old neighborhood? Why couldn’t you just go back there? Or just snatch your mother’s dingy old flip phone for a couple minutes to send them a message?

Besides, most of the children here don’t seem like ones you’d be particularly… compatible with. You shouldn’t be one to judge, but the majority of the ones doing laps on the playground equipment couldn’t have been older than five or six. At your big age of nine years old, there’s not much you would have in common with a literal kindergartener. Plus, it seems like they had all formed a friend group of their own, and you’re more than content just watching them chase each other around, gleeful, high-pitched squeals bubbling from their sticky mouths.

Turning your head slightly, you find a group of teenagers sitting around another bench several feet away from all the adults, two of which had their bottoms perched on top of the table as they faced their friends. You would approach them, but just like how you wouldn’t exactly favor befriending the five-year-olds with crayons up their noses, the teenagers likely thought the same of you. Closing your eyes in despair, you groan to yourself and resort to dragging your feet across the dirt.

Why did you even have to move?

As you let out a sigh, you perk up at the fact you could see it in the cold air. It sparks an insurmountable amount of joy for some reason. Perhaps it’s because of the timing of the puff of air with the line, ’Jack Frost nipping at your nose’ that rings from the speakers at the other end of the small neighborhood park, but it causes a giggle to slip past your lips. It’s almost like a new light under the already-dimming sky, the soft pinks and oranges slowly dissipating as the sun begins to dip behind the mountains and give way to the overcast above.

However, you quickly get distracted by the sight of a boy your age—or at least, you assumed—and you hesitantly step closer.

And there he was.

He was short, upside down on the monkey bars, and wearing the most obnoxious shade of purple you had ever laid eyes on. You aren’t sure what hurts more: the sun in your eyes or staring at his sweater.

Looking away from the light gray clouds that hung above the park, you let your gaze fall to the boy. He watches you quietly as he continues to hang upside down, and you notice the small smile that paints his slowly reddening face.

Here goes nothing, you guess.

“Um… hi.”

He stays silent, staring at you with his beady eyes.

Gulping, you continue. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles something back, but you can barely make out what he says and you tilt your head slightly in confusion.

“Huh?”

“My name is Jeongin,” he repeats, only the slightest bit louder.

A smile of your own quickly forms on your face. You raise a hand up for him to shake, and he just stares at it for a second before moving one of his outstretched arms to meet you, his hand grasping yours at an awkward angle. You both can’t help but giggle as you give your best attempt at a handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Jeongin,” you say, slowly pulling your hand away and letting his drop above, or rather, below his upside-down head. “I’m Y/N.”

“You said that already,” he says, and his bluntness makes you chuckle.

Slowly, Jeongin maneuvers himself so he’s sitting on top of the monkey bars instead of hanging upside down. Once he gets upright and steadies himself from the blood rushing down from his head, he stares back down at you.

You stuff your hands into your pockets and heave out a sigh. “My mom says I need a friend,” you explain your current plight to Jeongin, and you find his soft gaze once again. It’s strange, really—you’ve only exchanged a few words with this boy, but you already feel comfortable enough to complain about your mother’s nagging to him.

You suppose that helps your next words spill out more easily.

“Want to be friends?”

You watch Jeongin expectantly as he looks down, picking at a piece of lint on his hideous purple sweater. He ponders your question for a minute, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you when he finally nods in response. If your mom wanted you to have a friend so badly, there you go. You got one.

You stand there awkwardly, your eyes drifting back up to the sky for a moment. It occurs to you that you’ve never asked someone to be friends with you; it’s always just kind of happened.

And now you’re stuck, unsure what to do next.

You let out another huff of air, another smile tickling your lips as you watch the faint, white puff form in front of your eyes. Then you look back up at the boy in the obnoxious purple sweater, who seems just as amused by the cold air as you as he lets out his own breath, exhaling like a small dragon.

A chuckle escapes your parted lips as you watch him, kicking his legs lightly as he stares up at the sky. After another minute, you speak again.

“Can I sit up there with you too?”

Nodding his head, he mumbles a small “yeah” and the corners of your mouth twitch up as you hurriedly climb your way up onto the monkey bars. You dangle your legs through the same section as Jeongin’s, and you shift your position slightly as you steady yourself.

A gust of cold air causes you to shiver and as a response, you pull your puffy coat closer to you. This seems to make Jeongin chuckle fondly, and you feel his eyes linger on you for a second before he looks out at the horizon. Neither of you are tall enough to see much above the houses in front of you, but you figure you can use your imaginations to picture what lies beyond that. It’ll have to do.

You both remain silent for a while like this, allowing the chatter and Christmas music below to fill the air around you. It’s comfortable, it feels like a weighted blanket wrapped around your shoulders—which is funny to say because you’re sharing this moment with a kid you’ve barely known for ten minutes. You don’t mind, though. By the looks of it, and the friendly glances you exchange with each other, Jeongin doesn’t seem to, either.

Suddenly, a cold, wet spot falls onto your nose, causing you to gasp and look up.

“Is that…”

Jeongin tilts his head up as well, and he chuckles when another wet drop lands on his face. Meanwhile, you’re in awe. You let your mouth fall open, and your eyes swirl with pure wonderment as you watch the white crystals above you flutter down. It sends chills down your spine, but wraps you up in a cocoon of warmth at the same time.

“Snow…” is all you manage to mumble.

Jeongin turns to you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Have you never seen snow before?”

You glance at him once, shake your head, and look back up at the sky.

The boy’s jaw drops. It almost mirrors your dazed expression, except his features are twisted in surprise. But it’s true—snow was something you had only witnessed in movies. As far as you were concerned, the fluffy, white particles only ever graced the stop-motion characters on the old-timey Christmas cartoons you rewatched every year, or the main couple in whatever cheesy Hallmark movie your parents decided to indulge in.

That is, until now.

You didn’t know at that moment what type of future you had in store, but you know one thing: the snow is beautiful. And as you follow Jeongin down the monkey bars and to your first snowball fight, you have an inkling that you’ll be sticking with him for a while.

Maybe this move won’t be so bad after all.

10 years old.

You let out a huff of air, letting your chin bore into the palm of your hand. Unfortunately, though, the air inside a school classroom doesn’t allow you to watch it come to life. Sure, you had a heater and the bulky coat your mother gave you to thank for warmth, but at what cost?

No matter how hard you try to focus on the math test that was laid out in front of you, you just can’t. Not when the outside seemed to beckon you like a siren, begging you to come out and indulge in the ever-approaching Christmas atmosphere.

It’s all tempting. So, so tempting. Everything else seemed to be falling into place—the air has started to get colder, Christmas music has been playing 24/7 in the stores since November, you’ve worn every ugly Christmas sweater you could get your hands on at least once in the last two weeks, and you’ve begged your mom for a cup of hot chocolate every chance you could get.

Now you just need it to snow, and you need it badly.

After you scribble a random answer for the question you’ve been stuck on for five minutes, you throw your pen onto the table and lean back in your hard, plastic chair in defeat. This was too much mental torture, espically when you could hear Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer faintly playing in another room.

You can’t take it anymore.

Hopelessly, you stare at Jeongin, who somehow sleeps peacefully next to you. You’re sure he’s been asleep since he sat down in his chair. His head lays on his arm, which is covered by his purple sleeve. You snicker at the sight and pray that one day he grows out of that abomination of a sweater.

Your eyes drift back to your stupid math test, silently praying again that the torture won’t last for much longer. You were just one step away from greasy pizza and store-bought sugar cookies until your stomach hurt while The Polar Express filled the dim room. Well, one step away is technically two more questions, but it still feels so far.

You begrudgingly answer one of the questions then slump back into your seat, burying your head in your arms. You’re so close to freedom, but you still feel held captive by the test, like it’s shackled your arms and legs to your desk while Rudolph down the hall taunts you, dangling the coveted Christmas cheer over your head.

You don’t even care if you get the questions right anymore. You just scribble down some scratch work that seems somewhat coherent and circle whatever answer is closest then shove your test in your teacher’s hands, eager to get that nasty piece of paper away from you. Then you’re left to wait… and wait… and wait.

It’s unfair. You weren’t meant to be doing a math test the last day before winter break. You weren’t built to be suffering silently at your desk because some people didn’t know how to do long division. (Well, neither do you, but that’s besides the point.)

But nevertheless, you wait… and wait… and wait.

And then, finally, the last student turns in their paper.

The second the teacher plops the pile of tests on her desk, you practically spring up from your seat. You revel in the sweet, sweet freedom, but although your classmates seem just as relieved, they also seem painfully slow. That might also just be all the candy from your teacher’s goody bag pumping through your veins, but it made no difference to you.

Acting as self-appointed leader, you hastily motion for other kids in your class to move the tables to either side of the room, forming a sort of tetris with the desks, while others line trays of food across them. The pizzas are laid out next to different bowls of chips and festive little chocolates in the shapes of snowflakes and snowmen. Small Christmas-themed cups sit at the end of the table with giant bottles of bright, sugary drinks for you to choose from. Like, the ones that are bigger than your face. That’s how you know it’s good.

Hushed whispers of excitement make their way around the classroom as everyone settles down, wrapping themselves in the blankets they had brought to school for today. You take a seat next to Jeongin on the carpet right as the teacher switches the projector on, placing your paper plate filled to the brim with junk food in between you two as you get comfortable.

“How many cookies did you grab?!” Jeongin gawks, marveling at the sight. Whether it’s from amazement or concern is unclear.

You smile smugly at him. The light from the projector as your teacher sets up The Polar Express illuminates his baffled stare. “Not enough.”

He blinks once. “We’re not gonna split it?”

You giggle and push the plate closer to Jeongin, but not without swiping a Santa-shaped cookie from the pile. “I never said we weren’t.”

Jeongin just laughs at you and shakes his head, but the fact that he takes not one, not two, but three cookies from the plate tells you he’s just as excited as you. He attempts to remain nonchalant, though, as he wordlessly pushes a plate stacked with pizza towards you.

Grinning at him, you pick up a slice, the grease glinting in the low light. “Thanks,” you mumble as you take a bite.

Rolling his eyes, he continues to laugh. “Don’t mention it.”

There’s something about being next to Jeongin as you watch The Polar Express together, fluffy throw blankets draped around your outstretched legs that catch the crumbs from the snacks you two share, that brings you a sense of comfort. Excitement courses through your body, but somehow, you also feel oddly at peace.

It even seems to transport you to another world, and you forget you had even painstakingly suffered through a math test leading up to this in the first place. Eventually, your mind stops paying attention to the movie—it’s okay, though, because you practically know the story front to back. Instead, you find yourself daydreaming about being awoken in the middle of the night like the boy in the movie, and finding yourself on the fantastical train with Jeongin. A small smile decorates your face as you ponder, imagining all the chaos you could get yourselves into as you made the magical journey to the North Pole together.

However, when the other kids start to gasp and point towards the window, you’re brought back to the real world. Looking over to where they were pointing, you’re greeted with a powdery blanket covering the grass outside, and a grin instantly spreads across your face in delight.

Finally. It’s snowing.

You aren’t the only one to jump up from out of your seat in hopes of rushing outside to experience the first snowfall of winter. And you aren’t the first one out of the classroom door either. The calls from your teacher fade into the background like white noise as you scramble out from under your blanket and make a dash for the door as quickly as you can.

“Y/N,” Jeongin calls right before you can run outside, and you turn on your heel.

He speed-walks, then speeds up to an awkward half-jog to where you stand as he digs his hands through his pockets, and you can’t help but chuckle. It takes him until right after he stops in front of you to fish whatever this thing was out. Was it an early Christmas gift? The dreaded cheese touch? You are about to find out.

A crumpled piece of paper falls out of Jeongin’s coat, grazing his hand as he yanks it out of his pocket. He picks it up and unfolds it carefully, squinting at the note.

Leaning over, you peek over his shoulder and furrow your brows as you try to decipher the writing scrawled on. “’Ask Y/N about Christmas’?” You turn your head to the boy. “What about it?”

Jeongin eyes widen for a second as he tries to remember the context of the note. “My parents wanted me to ask if you wanted to…”

You tilt your head. “Wanted to…?” You repeat.

“What was it that they said?” He mumbles to himself. He looks up, his eyebrows furrowed, and then something seems to click. “Was it… stay? Stay for Christmas?”

You blink, watching the boy with inquisitive eyes. “Stay for Christmas?” you question.

“Yeah, stay for Christmas.” He hums, and his voice grows more confident as he continues. “Yeah, that’s what they said to ask!” He’s now grinning, and his movements become more animated. “Yeah! Stay with us for Christmas Eve! You have to come, Y/N, it’s a Christmas sleepover! It’ll be fun!”

You light up like a, well, Christmas tree at the idea. You could already picture the absolute blast you’re going to have. Chasing each other around in your pajamas as Christmas music rings in your ears? Eating the cookies his mom laid out for Santa until you're sick? Finding the jolly man himself? And imagine playing in the snow in the morning after ripping your presents open!

“That sounds so fun!” You squeal, beaming from ear to ear. “I'll have to ask my parents, but I'm sure they'll let me go!”

“Y/N, Jeongin,” your teacher interrupts your enthusiasm, her arm propping the door open. “You can’t stay inside by yourselves, come on!”

“Coming!” you two call back in unison, and then you glance at each other. You catch a mischievous glint in Jeongin’s eyes before he bolts for the door, outstretching his arm in front of you before you can react and outrun him.

“Race ya!”

“Hey!”

…

“Mommmm! Daddddd!” you drawl out, a frown stretched across your face as you bounce on the balls of your feet. Your finger impatiently hovers over the doorbell, and if your parents took any longer to grab… whatever they brought for Jeongin’s parents, you would just mash the white button yourself. Or you’d teleport yourself inside; forget the doorbell entirely.

You follow their movements attentively, your fists balled around your backpack straps and teeth pressed against your tongue to keep yourself from complaining more. You had already gotten an earful in the car, not to mention some confused glances when you mentioned the long-anticipated sleepover you had stayed up until the ungodly hours of 10pm preparing your backpack for. If they thought that was late for a fourth-grader, imagine their horror if they knew of your and Jeongin’s plan to stay up all night and see Santa Claus!

Regardless, you couldn’t pinpoint why your parents raised their eyebrows and snickered at the idea of you sleeping over at Jeongin’s house. Maybe it was the fact that you had your hair messily thrown up into a ponytail and that your light-up Christmas sweatshirt was maybe a size too big—I mean, say what you want, but you’re perfectly dressed for the occasion.

You were sure that was the reason. And certainly not the fact you were practically jumping out of your skin—maybe acting a little bit too excited—to get inside to see your best friend.

Your parents just didn’t understand that this was a pivotal moment. Plus, you’re getting cold. One can only stand outside for so long.

After what felt like hours of waiting, the door finally swings open to reveal Jeongin’s mother, welcoming you and your parents inside. You release your backpack straps from your grip and sprint past your mother, shouting a “Hi, Mrs. Yang!” as you rip your shoes from your feet.

Shaking your backpack off your shoulders, you make a beeline for Jeongin, who puts down his video game controller when you come into view.

“I made it, Jeongin!” you grin from ear to ear, tossing your backpack aside.

“Yay!” he breaks out into a grin and scoots over.

You plop down at the spot next to him, grabbing the spare controller as you watch the mustached man on screen walk right into a brown mushroom and die. And in World 1-1, you may add.

“Let me on! Let’s get this sleepover started!” you mash the ‘A’ button repeatedly, hoping it somehow speeds up Jeongin getting back to the main menu. Oh, were you ready to kick his sorry butt.

Suddenly, you hear bouts of laughter echo from the hallway. You tear your eyes off the screen, finding your and Jeongin’s parents entering the living room. If it weren’t for the wall that your father leaned against, he would have collapsed to the floor from how hard he was laughing.

“Jeongin, you told Y/N there was a sleepover?!” Jeongin’s mother exclaimed in between giggles.

Jeongin looks up from his game, his eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah?” He blinks, his voice laced with confusion. “That’s what you said to ask?”

His mom laughs even harder at his reply, her hand over her mouth. “Honey sweet, no!”

Jeongin‘s mouth twists into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again.

Mrs. Yang takes a minute to regain her composure before explaining to the boy, “I meant to ask her to stay for the evening, not the whole night.” She tries to keep a straight face, but another giggle slips out. “There’s no sleepover.”

Jeongin looks down, avoiding eye contact with the four adults laughing at his mix-up as heat rises to his cheeks. Dropping his game controller on his lap, he covers his face with his hands, and lets out a nervous chuckle as his face slowly turns red.

You would’ve been lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that you couldn’t try to see Santa with Jeongin, after all. Despite this loss, you try your best not to laugh at your friend, covering up your giggles with awkward coughs to save Jeongin from more embarrassment. You know both his and your parents will never let him live this down.

And frankly, neither will you.

11 years old.

“You son of a nutcracker!” You cry in unison with Buddy the Elf, your mouth stuffed with an audaciously big chunk of cookie. Maybe you got a bit carried away, but you couldn’t help it if someone was kind enough to bring a platter of fresh-baked cookies to the annual neighborhood Christmas party. It might have been the Choi family—the one with the son your age—which makes sense since they’re hosting the party this year.

Looking up from the gingerbread house he was carefully decorating, Jeongin stares at you with a disgusted frown as you struggle to break down the cookie.

You look back at him innocently, trying not to laugh. “Hi,” you wave, your mouth still full.

Jeongin shakes his head at you. “I worry about you sometimes.”

“You should.” You swallow most of the bite, wincing as you feel it go down.

Gulping down the rest of the cookie, you prop your chin in the palm of your hand as you pull your attention away from the tv and watch Jeongin. He bites his bottom lip lightly, glancing back and forth between the gumdrops and peppermints around the island and the gingerbread house. He squeezes out some icing, poking his tongue out in concentration, and sticks a peppermint window to the food structure.

Smiling at his little creation in progress, you gently poke one of the small candy canes that stand around the house. Jeongin quickly pushes your hand away, letting out a small whine.

You chuckle at his reaction and do it again, and he swats your hand away once more. “Stop itttt~”

You giggle and hold your hands up. “Okayyy, okay.”

You silently follow his movements with your eyes before they flick down to his sweater. It’s hideous, as most holiday sweaters are. The cartoon reindeer with a head too big for its body taunts you, but at the same time it just screams Jeongin. But there is no trace of that obnoxious shade of purple, and you thank whatever deity is above you for it.

Jeongin studies the gingerbread house for a moment, gently turning the brown building around. He takes a yellow gumdrop in his hand and hovers it over a spot on the roof, squinting ever-so-slightly as he imagined how it would look in the final product, whatever he imagined it to be. You stay quiet and just let him go—you know better than to interrupt Jeongin’s creative process.

“What if you did rows of gumdrops on the roof?”

Mrs. Choi, on the other hand, doesn’t know better. The one with the son your age, that is—he tagged along with you and Jeongin for lunch a couple times. What was his name again? Beomgyu, right?

You notice the corners of Jeongin’s mouth twitching downward before he catches himself. “I don’t know,” he says, putting the gumdrop down. “I’ll figure it out.”

Mrs. Choi shrugs and just lingers around, mumbling something about how it reminds her of Hansel and Gretel. You thought she had a point… kind of. You had always heard of the tale of Hansel and Gretel and the house made of candy, but considering it wasn’t much of a Christmas story, you tended to ignore it.

“Oh, that reminds me…” she says to herself after a minute, walking over to the dining table where all the parents sat around. You lean over in your seat and listen closely.

“Beomgyu keeps bugging me about having a sleepover with Jeongin,” Mrs. Choi says as she approaches Jeongin’s mom, her voice carrying over the rest of the chatter enough for you to eavesdrop.

Mrs. Yang nods, a small smile playing at her lips. “That'd be fun for them, when can he come over?”

You blink. It’s… it’s that easy for him?

The two mothers begin talking about schedules or appointments or some other boring adult thing. Whatever it is, you tune it out and turn back to Jeongin, who has opted for an array of different colored gumdrops carefully spread across the roof.

“You’re,” you hesitate, “You’re allowed to sleep over with Beomgyu?”

“Yeah,” Jeongin hums. ”I’ve slept over at his place and he’s been begging to come to mine.”

He chuckles, gluing on another gumdrop, until his words sink in and he fully processes them. His eyes then widen in realization, and he lets the tube of frosting drop from his hand before marching over to his parents.

“Mom,” Jeongin taps on his mom’s shoulder until she turns to him. “Why does Beomgyu get to sleep over but Y/N doesn't?”

You lean over again, hoping to overhear an explanation from Mrs. Yang. All you hear is laughter.

Laughter? That’s it?

You squint as you lean further in their direction, as if squinting would increase the volume of the conversation. All you could observe was a confused look from Mrs. Choi, and a fit of giggles from Mrs. Yang. How helpful.

“Did I ever tell you what happened last year?!” your mom practically shouts to Mrs. Choi, proving your efforts unnecessary.

“Oh my god, you have to hear this! It’s a good one, it’s so cute,” Mrs. Yang gushes, glancing at a flustered Jeongin.

The boy frowns and buries his face in his hands, growing more frustrated. “Mommm!”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker between the now-insanely-embarrassed Jeongin, and his parents’ delight at retelling the account of ‘stay for Christmas’. As Mrs. Yang continued, Jeongin sinks deeper and deeper into himself, and you could practically see a little pinkish-red aura surrounding him.

“And so he tells her…” Mrs. Yang's voice fades into the background when you look out the window and gasp.

Snow.

Before you can register it, your legs are already pushing yourself off the stool, and then you’re running and shoving past other partygoers as you make your way to Jeongin.

“Jeongin.” You tug on his sleeve as you try to get him to move his hands away from his face. However, he swats your hand away.

“Shut up,” he whines.

“No, look,” you try again, tugging more. “It’s snowing!”

Hands instantly falling from his face, he looks out of the window you were motioning at and gasps as well. “Snow.”

Quickly, you glance at Mrs. Yang, making sure she’s still in in-depth story mode before you grab onto Jeongin’s hand and pull him outside into the cold. You shiver lightly as the winter air nips at your nose, but welcome it nonetheless.

“Wanna make a snowman?” you suggest.

Jeongin shrugs.

“Suit yourself.”

Humming to yourself, you squat down at an empty spot and begin to pile some snow together. A small smile decorates your face, perfectly pairing with your rosy cheeks.

I mean, how could you not be happy right now? It’s the first snow of winter. It may be your third first winter, but you swear each one gets more magical than the last. You know Jeongin would agree, no matter how cranky he may be right now.

“That’s like the fifth time my mom’s told that story this month,” the boy huffs after a minute, kicking at the snow in front of him. “It's not even funny anymore. I was a stupid ten-year-old.”

Looking up from the small base of the snowman, you let out a laugh. “I mean… you were ten last year.”

“Y/NNN,” Jeongin whines.

“And it was kinda funny—”

“Y/N!”

You feel a sudden blast of cold hit your side and you let out a yelp, shielding your face with your arms. Gasping, you look back up after a second to Jeongin preparing more ammunition. Suddenly, you’re in the mood to wipe the shi—sorry, poop-eating grin from your best friend’s face. One nice, cold wipe.

“You ass!” you shriek, gasping and covering your mouth once you realize what you had just said. Thank goodness your mom didn’t hear you or she would’ve brought out the bar of soap.

“That’s what you get!” Jeongin cackles back, hurling another snowball your way. This one also hits your coat, splattering into pieces once it collides with your stomach.

“Oh, it’s on!”

12 years old.

The final bell rings across the school to signal the start of winter break. Students of all types make their way out of the main entrance, leaving you and Jeongin in a rather quiet hallway with your locker still open.

Whilst you clear it out, the fruitful voice of Jeongin’s new club buddy fills your ears.

“‘Sup, babies.”

You and Jeongin jump at not only the sudden voice, but also the feeling of an arm going around both your shoulders. A year older than you, Jisung, whom Jeongin had met through the middle school’s anime club, sports round glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose. His hair is a chestnut brown, split right down the middle to frame his face.

Jeongin shrugs Jisung’s arm off of his shoulders, but his other arm stays around you. “How are my favorite underclassmen?” Jisung coos, reaching around to ruffle Jeongin’s hair.

Jeongin jerks his head away from Jisung’s hand, a groan escaping his lips. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope!” Jisung says, flashing the younger boy a dopey grin.

Chuckling, you duck under Jisung’s arm to grab your backpack as Jeongin scrambles to fix his messy hair. You aren’t sure when or why Jisung started referring to you two as ‘babies' when he was only a year older. He once said something about “taking Jeonginnie under his wing” when you first met him, but that’s the closest thing to an explanation that you got.

Once Jeongin manages to tame his hair, he looks at Jisung with a shimmer in his eye. “Did you pick what we’re going to watch next?” he asks, referring to the next club meeting. It wouldn’t be until after New Year’s, but you figured they’d want to plan ahead now while they’re technically still in school.

“Not yet, but I was thinking of going with a classic,” Jisung muses before turning to you. “You should really join us, Y/N.”

You hum in response, pushing your lips into a line as you ponder it. Of course Jeongin had tried to get you to watch anime with him before, but it was just something you found difficult to get into. “Maybe,” is all you say, mostly to make Jisung happy.

“Yeah! Anyway,” Jisung quickly moves the conversation along, slinging his arms around both your shoulders again and pulling you two closer to him. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? We should do something!” He gleams, glancing back and forth between you two. “With our parents’ permission, of course.”

As Jisung gazes longingly at a dog passing by, yours moves to Jeongin and you giggle at the sight of his cheeks tinting pink. He says nothing, but when he looks up and notices you staring at him, he rolls his eyes.

At the silence, Jisung finally tears his eyes away from the dog, who stops at a street pole for a sniff, and looks between you and Jeongin again. “What's up with you two?” he gulps. “You’re acting weird.”

Jeongin makes a sour face. “You’re acting weird,” he tries to rebut, but he only proves Jisung’s point.

Jisung stops suddenly on the sidewalk. He tilts his head at Jeongin and squints, searching the younger’s face. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jeongin deadpans, turning his heel to continue the walk home.

“Noooo.” The older boy pulls him back by the hoodie before he can walk away. He gets all up in Jeongin’s face, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows suspiciously. “There’s something going on, isn’t there?”

Nosily, you watch as Jeongin opens his mouth to speak before quickly closing it again. He seems to want to shrink into himself, and you both know why. To his dismay, you find it wholly amusing.

“Baby, come onnnn,” Jisung bounces in place as he chants, “Tell me, tell me, tell me…”

Deciding to ignore the boys’ shenanigans, you look up at the clouds and begin to think about your own plans for Christmas, a small smile forming on your lips.

You’ve always loved the holidays, but after settling into your new neighborhood, it grew on you and swept you off your feet like never before. It’s way more than just the snow—it’s the joy swirling in the air when Christmas music finally begins to play on the radio. It’s the sparkle in the night sky when the whole town shows off their colorful lights. Maybe it’s also the inhuman amount of hot chocolate and sugar cookies coursing through your veins. You’re not hyped up on sugar right now, but Jeongin would be hopelessly shaking his head at you if you were.

It’s way more than just beautiful snow, but it seemed to add a magical touch to Christmas that you never felt in your old neighborhood.

It came like clockwork, too, just like the Christmas party, and you’re eagerly counting the days until both come to life for the first time this season. Especially the Christmas party. Your and Jeongin’s schedules only matched up for lunch this year, and you’re in dire need of some quality time with your best friend.

“Y/N?” Jisung gently shakes your shoulder, interrupting your train of thought.

You blink a few times. “Huh? Yeah?”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

You look back up at the sky, your lips curving upward again. “I’ll be with my family on Christmas. I'm not doing anything much for Christmas Eve, though,” you say with a giggle, emphasizing the ‘eve’. “It depends.”

Jisung continues to look at you—and Jeongin—with an eyebrow raised. “On what?”

You have to take a breath to try and compose yourself before you continue.

“On—”

“Can’t you let it go?” Jeongin cuts you off with a whine. “It was basically two years ago!”

“‘Cause it was two years ago,” you continue to giggle.

Jisung blinks, trying to figure out this inside joke you two are bickering over, but the poor boy is just as confused as when the conversation started. “What was two years ago?”

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Jeongin grumbles, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s failing miserably trying to hide a smile. You just flash your brows at him, and he slides out from under Jisung’s arm and heads straight for you.

A teasing grin grazes your lips, and you gently push Jisung’s arm off of you so you can run away.

“You do this every year!” Jeongin cries out, attempting to reach for your backpack.

“‘Cause it’s funny!” you shout back.

You can feel Jeongin’s fingers brush your shoulders every now and then as he chases after you. Giggles bubble from your throat as you try to make a break for it, tricking him by going the opposite way to where he is. However, he catches on to your attempt to escape and grabs you quickly. His arms wrap securely around you and pull you back as he hugs you, his laughter loud in your ears.

You let out a surprised squeak as you try to wriggle your way out of Jeongin’s grip. “Jeongin, I was kidding, I was kidding!” you cry out in between giggles.

“You always do this!” he giggles too, refusing to let you go.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” you squeal. Tears start to prick your eyes from how hard you’re laughing.

Jeongin lets his arms fall and his lip juts out into a pout. You turn to him and quickly match it.

“Sure, you are,” he mutters, enhancing his frown.

“I mean it, Jeonginnieee.” You lean closer and let your arms slip around him. “I'm sorry.”

He stays stiff for a second before he wraps his arms back around you and smiles. “It's okay.”

A high-pitched squeal from Jisung makes you both jump in surprise and let go of each other. You both stare back at Jisung, who wears a giddy grin stretching from ear to ear. His hands are balled up in tiny fists together, flying up to his mouth as he bounces a little in place.

You blink a few times, stunned to silence for a few seconds before finally speaking. “You okay, Jisung?”

“Y-You… the…” Jisung stammers excitedly before trailing off.

He points between the two of you, then to the sky, and as you both follow his finger, a cold wet drop lands on your cheek, and another on your nose. Jeongin lets out a squeak at one hitting him in the eye, and he scrunches up his face at the impact.

You looked back at Jisung, gesturing upward. “The snow?” you finish his sentence.

The older boy nods eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, the snow!”

You want to smile, you really do—it is the first snow of winter, after all. But it seems like he has a different reason for his exuberance than you do.

You exchange a glance with Jeongin, and he seems just as lost as you are. At this point, you might as well just ask. “What about it?”

Was it because the snow was pretty as it dotted the earth below you? Was it because it marked the start of only the most beautiful time of the year? This could really go any direction.

“You know, like the movies?” He rambles. “When the boy and the girl witness the first snowfall together and…”

Oh no, no, no. Not that direction.

Briskly stepping away from each other, you both frantically shake your heads, the tips of your ears glowing red. Jeongin argues back with a string of flustered protests that you could only nod along to, as you were at a loss for words yourself.

You wonder what was in the snow that had fallen on Jisung to make him think this way. It was insane, he was insane. You and Jeongin? Jisung must’ve gone mad.

Jisung deflates a little, a pout pulling his lips downward. “Aww. That would’ve been cute though.”

You force out a chuckle before continuing your route home. Jisung parts ways somewhere halfway through, but an icky feeling persists in your stomach for the rest of the walk.

It truly baffles you how he saw you and Jeongin having an inside joke, you know, like best friends do, and somehow morphed it into some coupley thing all because of a little snow. The snow is beautiful, of course, but throwing that sappy stuff on top of it? Jisung’s watched way too many movies. And anime. An alarming amount of anime.

“I’ll, um,” Jeongin clears his throat as you both approach your front door. “I’ll see you at the party next week.”

An awkward tension still hangs above you from earlier, but you manage to muster a small smile. “Yeah. See you then.”

He smiles back and gives you a little wave before he begins the five-minute walk to his house. But before you knock on your door…

“Wait!” you blurt and reach out for him. You wrap your fingers around Jeongin’s wrist, prompting him to turn around.

“Yeah?”

“That, um, that thing Jisung was saying,” you hesitate, stumbling over your words. You force out another chuckle in hopes to relieve the tension that’s making your stomach twist into knots. “That’s— that’s not gonna happen to us… right?”

Jeongin lets out a scoff, waving you off reassuringly. “Of course not, Jisung’s just being Jisung.” He smiles a little. “We’re best friends, remember?”

His words fill you with relief, and you smile back. “Yeah. The bestest of friends.”

“That’s not a word.”

“You know what I mean, Jeongin.” You chuckle genuinely this time as you roll your eyes, turning back to your front door. “I’ll see you at the party.”

It’s ridiculous that you have to even ask, but apparently it’s necessary. You’re just lucky Jisung listened to Jeongin in the end, or this whole shipping fiasco would’ve been much more difficult than it needed to be.

Especially since several of your classmates who witnessed the interaction in front of the school parking lot actually seemed to believe it.

13 years old.

You nibble at your bottom lip and run one hand up and down your forearm. Jisung has been glaring rather unamused daggers at you for five minutes now, his round eyes perpetually locked on you as you try to focus on the TV. It makes you feel like there was something crawling all over you, and you have the overwhelming urge to itch every bit of exposed skin you had—which isn’t a lot, but still.

Part of you was tempted to turn to Jisung just to try and poke his eyes out. You wouldn’t actually do it, but with his eyes boring into your head like this, it’s hard not to think about it. You just wanted to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas in peace.

“...Are you gonna talk to him? Like, at all?” Jisung speaks.

A small pout plays at your lips and you cross your arms over your chest. “How can I?” you start. “He hasn’t spoken to me since the start of the year.”

The older boy lets out a sigh. “Have you tried to speak to him?”

You nod once. Finally, something he can’t get on your case for.

Jisung blinks. “…Besides at lunch back in April?”

You huff, looking down at your lap. Your knuckles turn white as you ball the fabric of your sweater in your fists. "Well, it was kinda hard to do when he’s always with Beomgyu.”

Jisung leans forward to get a better look at you, whilst he rests his chin on his palm. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous."

You can’t tell if you want to scoff or to laugh. Jealous? You? Of course not. You just wanted to be around your best friend again. To be able to hang out with your best friend of three years without some stupid kid in your grade teasing you about dating or about how ‘oOOoH, yOu’RE sO iN lOvE’. Ever since winter break ended, it was all you ever heard when you were around him.

"I’m not jealous." You raise your voice slightly, pushing him away without moving your gaze away from the cartoon. "He was my best friend first."

"Can you hear yourself when you speak?"

“Can you hear how annoying you are right now?”

Jisung blinks at you again. He pushes himself off the couch and stands in front of you, his gaze more gentle this time. “You know he asks me about you too, right?”

You sigh. It’s probably the fifth time this week that Jisung has reminded you of this. It’s not that you don’t want to believe him, but with the way Jeongin stared at you with hollow eyes the last time you tried to talk to him in the cafeteria eight months ago, you’re not sure if you can.

“Plus, he’s literally…” Jisung continues, spinning you around to where Jeongin sat in the kitchen with Beomgyu. Right where you two sat at the Christmas party two years ago. “…right there.”

“I know,” you huff.

Of course you knew that, and you knew he knew you knew. Jeongin was the first one you recognized when you stepped foot in the Choi house for the party. Sure, part of it was because Jisung frantically shook your arm and pointed him out, but even if he wasn’t there you would’ve spotted the top of his head from a mile away. You would’ve known he hadn’t left his gingerbread house in the kitchen all afternoon, whether or not the coconut-haired boy was there to pester you about it.

”Then gooo,” Jisung chides, pushing you to the kitchen island by the shoulders. “Talk. To him.”

Oddly enough, talking to him is the last thing you want to do. At least, not here. Not when there’s a bunch of adults that, frankly, are nosier than your typical middle schooler. Luckily, the only adult there when you approach the kitchen island only glances at you for a second before stepping past you. No one else is watching, but it still feels like a hundred pairs of eyes are piercing into your skull.

You suck in a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Hey.”

Jeongin pushes his lips into a thin line when he looks up at you. “Hi.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see Beomgyu raise his head and look at you both before going back to what he was doing. Rocking on the balls of your feet, you take another deep breath. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”

You’re not sure how long Jeongin goes quiet for, but every second of silence makes you feel like your insides are trying to escape from you. You purse your lips as your gaze casts down to your feet, unable to look him in the eye. Why did the friendship between you and Jeongin have to change? Why couldn’t people just keep their mouths shut?

“I’ve been okay,” he mumbles. “Just busy, you know?”

You hum in response. He was right; this year had been a lot school-wise, especially when you counted how everyone watched you like hawks, ready to strike at the first opportunity for a ‘ship moment’, as some people had started to call it.

“Yeah.” You try to laugh, but anyone can tell it’s fake. “Me too.”

Jeongin stays silent again, just nodding at your words. You weren’t sure what heartbreak was and of course, you weren’t in love with him. He is—was—your best friend. But if you had to guess, heartbreak probably feels something close to what you’re feeling right now.

You gulp, and take one more shaky breath. Your bottom lip wavers as you try to get your next words out.

“I…” miss you.

You want to say it so bad, but you stopped yourself as soon as you started. When Jeongin doesn’t turn his head, you feel your heart sink to your stomach, or whatever the equivalent of that was when your best friend completely ignores you, effectively declaring the end of your best-friendship.

You hate this so much. Screw the other kids for getting in the way of your friendship, screw Jeongin for letting them, screw yourself for not doing more to stop it, and screw Jisung for pushing you over to talk to him.

You don’t say anything more as you turn away and solemnly make your way back over to where Jisung is still standing. When you feel tears pool in your eyes, you make a sharp turn for the bathroom, and the older boy worriedly trails after you.

“Baby…” he calls as he follows, quickening his pace to catch up to you. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

You stop in your tracks, suddenly causing Jisung to bump into you. He leans forward and around your shoulder before taking a step into your view, instantly frowning when he sees the sadness apparent on your face. “Baby…”

“It’s over, Jisung.” You blink rapidly. “We’re never going to be friends again, not after this.”

Furrowing his eyebrows together, Jisung sighs. He places his hands on your shoulders to try and get you to look at him. “Don’t say that, you guys will get past this. You guys are best friends for a reason.”

“No, we won’t.” Your voice shakes as you speak. “You saw how awkward it was back there! There’s no way he wants to be friends anymore… let alone best friends.”

You continue to blink your tears away, but one manages to slide down your cheek. Your breathing becomes ragged as your world feels like it’s crashing down on you, and all you can do is helplessly step closer to Jisung as you hiccup.

“I just want my best friend back.”

Pulling you in, Jisung wraps his arms around you in his attempt to comfort you. He sighs quietly, his own frown on his lips as you choke out a sob.

“I know you do.”

14 years old.

Well, your last year of middle school was off to a surprisingly pleasant start.

After years of being told where in the classroom you could sit, your 1st period teacher nearly had you jumping for joy when she said you were free to pick your seat for the year. It was such a minute detail to be in control of, but it felt so freeing to your adolescent self.

The only problem: you don’t know anyone in this class. You vaguely recognize two or three faces from last school year, but even they had gravitated to other students in the class, clustering into their already-established friend groups. It’s like the galaxies in the night sky that you learned about last year, and you’re a lone star, floating around in the abyss called your new English classroom.

Shrugging to yourself, you scoot past some students in the aisles and pick a seat in the middle of the room in between two other empty desks. You had counted ten or so desks that had yet to be filled, so you figured you should take your chances. You don’t know anyone… at least, for now. Maybe someone will show up later.

Sliding your phone out of your pocket, you plug your headphones into your ears and listen to music for the last few minutes of passing period to relax a little. It quickly feels pointless, though, as the chatter in the classroom overpowers the song blasting right by your eardrums.

However, one voice seems to ring above all the others.

“Um… is this seat taken?”

You take an earbud out, lifting your head to find the source of the voice. Jeongin stands over the chair to your left, adorning a god-awful purple sweater that reminds you of the one he wore when you first met. It almost brings a smile to your face… almost. It probably would have if things had ended differently between you two.

This is the first time you have spoken to him since The Most Awkward Conversation Of Your Life™. Maybe you were being slightly dramatic, or at least that’s what Jisung had told you for weeks after the incident, but you still stood by what you felt. You weren't sure if you and Jeongin could ever get back to the way you were—not having spoken since that moment kind of proved to you that you couldn’t.

Yet here you are. You’re not sure if this will just be a one-off conversation or a second chance of sorts. But after a moment, you decide to take that chance.

“Go for it.” You gesture to the seat.

Jeongin smiles awkwardly, the tips of his ears pink as he sets his backpack down on the floor. He doesn’t move to get any of his things out of his bag, and just sits there with laser-focus on his hands that rest on top of his desk.

You’re not sure how long you two sat in silence, but thankfully, it feels nothing like the last time. It actually feels…. comfortable. Welcoming, even. Almost like when you first met him at the monkey bars.

Jeongin looks over at you after a few moments, still rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. “So… how are you?” he finally speaks.

It’s then that you notice just how much deeper Jeongin’s voice has gotten since the last time you spoke. You figure it would make sense; you hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and a lot can happen in said year. It’s still odd, however—seeing him change, but not being there to experience it with him.

You nod, looking down at your own hands, but you let a small smile slip out. “I’m okay.”

You are okay, really, at least for the moment. But now you knew you would be, for sure.

…

“Who wants the last cookie—” Mrs. Yang calls from the kitchen, but she’s quickly cut short.

“ME!”

You and Jeongin spring up from the couch at the same time, giggling as you push past each other and race to the kitchen. At the last second, Jeongin sticks his arm in front of you just as you come in reach of the cookie, barring you from the baked treat as he swipes it with his free hand.

“Hey!” You cross your arms, biting your lip to stifle more giggles from coming out. “You cheated!”

Jeongin doesn’t even try to hide the cocky smirk on his face. “Oh, you love me anyway.”

You narrow your eyes at the boy. “Do I? Do I really?”

Jeongin only stares back at you, blinking a few times before he bites into the cookie. Right. In. Front of you.

Your jaw drops in betrayal. What an asshole, he knew you loved those cookies more than life itself! If you had to choose, though, you highly preferred this over where you two were a year ago. He may be stealing your cookies like the pubescent raven-haired crook he is, but since it comes with being best friends again, you’ll learn to live with it.

You keep your eyes trained on him as you calculate your next move. You know exactly how to get him back for this, but is it worth it? Was waiting only a few months after recovering your friendship enough time?

Oh, who are you kidding—of course it was.

“Two can play that game,” you state, taking a piece of cookie from his hand.

The boy scoffs. “Oh, really?”

Your eyes widening ever-so-slightly, you bite into the cookie. You keep your gaze on him as you chew, not looking away even for a second, and you say the three magic words—even more magic than ‘please.’

“Stay for Christmas?”

His smirk immediately drops, and one of your own plays at your lips. You know you got him.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” he grumbles.

You just swipe another piece of cookie from his hand, still grinning triumphantly. “To be fair,” you swirl the cookie in your hand for emphasis, “you walked right into it.”

Jeongin sighs, watching you toss the last bit of the cookie into your mouth. “There's nothing I can do to make you forget it, huh?’

“Nope,” you say with your mouth full. “Not unless you do something more quote-worthy.”

“Fine, then stay.”

You freeze, your cheeks still full of chewed-up cookie. “What?”

“You heard me, Y/N.” Jeongin steps closer, not breaking eye contact. “Just stay for Christmas. It’d be fun, and at least then, you’d have nothing to try and tease me with.”

You swallow the dessert in your mouth and stare at him, speechless. All this time, you had been just playing along with the line as a joke. Was it actually possible to have a sleepover with him? You almost smile as you ponder it over in your head. Being all cooped up in his room and kicking his ass at Mario Kart, then scrambling to be in bed by midnight as if Santa would actually appear the second the clock strikes twelve? You don’t have to think twice.

“Honey sweet, you and Y/N are still on that?” Mrs. Yang says, turning her head to look at you two from the sink.

Jeongin groans. “Yeah, mom, and why do you still call me that?!”

His mother just chuckles and turns back to the dishes she’s rinsing. From what you could gather, she doesn’t seem opposed to you sleeping over. It wasn’t a yes, but it certainly wasn’t a resounding no, so you jump to make a beeline for your parents and beg them to let you stay overnight.

Unfortunately, your parents have a more straightforward answer for you. Not even the growing piles of snow outside could save you from going back home at the end of the night.

You also receive quite the lecture about “the dangers of staying over at boys’ houses” on the way home. Their words fly in one ear and the other for you. If this was anyone else, it’d be different, but this is your best friend that they’re talking about.

The only time Jeongin ever laid a hand on you was during the grand battle of Rainbow Road when you were eleven. In his defense, he didn’t mean to push you so hard that you fell off the bed and nearly dislocated your shoulder, but that’s what happens when two of the most competitive people you know go head-to-head in a battle of Mario Kart.

You huff. At least you know actually staying for Christmas might be an option one day.

15 years old.

You peek around the edge of your locker door every so often as you shove various notebooks into your bag. Even when you finished packing up, you busy yourself with pretending to wipe specks of dust off your binder, and checking that you chose the correct textbooks to bring home with you for the fifth time in three minutes.

Another minute or so passes and you check the clock on your phone, then you look past your locker door one more time, slowly leaning over until one eye peeps past the edge. You find Jeongin speaking to one of his teachers as they exited their classroom, waving goodbye as he heads closer to you.

You smile to yourself, then scan the area around you one more time. The coast seems clear, but you decide to give it one more minute before going over to him, just to be safe.

“You’re doing that again?”

You jump and turn on your heel, nearly hitting your head against your locker door. Jisung stands behind you as he watches you incredulously, backpack slung over one shoulder as he leans against the wall of lockers. His arms are crossed as he raises an eyebrow at you, and his features are twisted into an odd mixture of concern and confusion.

You look back at the main hallway, then back at Jisung. “Um… yeah,” you state, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Is there a problem?”

Jisung just snickers at your confidence. “Babe, honey, sweetie,” he says. You roll your eyes at the endless string of nicknames. “You look ridiculous.”

“I do not!” you scoff defensively.

He leans closer to you, his wide eyes boring into yours. “Is this about a booooy?” he teases jokingly.

You grimace in his direction, delivering a flick to his forehead as you pretend to rummage through your locker again. “You know what it’s about, Ji,” you grumble.

He’s technically not wrong. It is about a boy, but it’s not about a boy. There’s a huge difference—especially when the boy in question was Jeongin.

“You still look ridiculous.” He props an arm against the locker wall. “It’s like you want people to think you’re dating.”

You sigh, slamming your locker shut. “You don’t get it, people will stare if we don’t do this. Plus, our system’s worked for almost a semester already.”

“Y/N, this almost looks more suspicious than if you two just acted normally.” Reaching out a hand, he turns you by the shoulders to face him. “Is this peeking thing really necessary?”

You let out an agitated huff at his constant questioning. The nearly-unreadable grimace makes a return to Jisung’s face, and you know it is there to stay until you explain yourself. It seems pretty simple to you, though.

You see, once middle school came to a close, you saw a window for a fresh start in high school. Any indications of The Incident™ (the former name had become a mouthful for you to repeat every time) were to die with the remnants of your braces phase and short-lived obsession with rainbow loom bracelets and 5 Seconds of Summer, as far as you were concerned. So, accordingly, you and Jeongin had devised a plan to prevent those dreaded “ship moments” from repeating themselves in high school.

Since most of your time together at school wasn’t in actual classes, you and Jeongin agreed to sit separately for bus rides to and from school, sometimes even opposite ends of the bus if necessary. On the way to school in the mornings, you two figured it was safe to walk together to the bus most days. Your neighborhood was one of the first stops and the few kids on the bus when you get on are usually snoring in the back. As long as you and Jeongin sat across from each other near the front and didn’t wake them up, you figured you’d be fine.

However, after school, you had to be fast. Ideally, you’d meet up with Jeongin when the hallways were less crowded than right when the final bell sounds, but when enough students were still hanging around the corridors that it wouldn't raise eyebrows with the school staff. You’d meet, speed-walk to the buses together, and enter separately. Once you pulled up at your stop, you two would depart and walk separately—until your bus turned the corner, then you’d walk each other home. It sounded like a lot, yeah, but after a while you get used to it.

After months of practice, you found that the most optimal time to pull this off was around five to eight minutes after the bell. Eight minutes was pushing it, but as long as you and Jeongin made a run for it, you wouldn’t miss your ride home. You had it down to a science. Jisung had no reason to worry, but he always seemed to find one.

Despite this, you don’t want to bother explaining the system you and Jeongin had perfected over the semester, again—the last time you did, it only raised more questions. So this time, you simply wave a hand in dismissal. “Yes, it’s necessary,” you deadpan, “you wouldn’t understand.”

Jisung blinks, then lets out an exhausted sigh. “If you insist…”

The older boy trails off, just in time for the younger one to appear at your side. “Hey, guys,” Jeongin chirps, waving at you both.

You smile at him briefly before turning to Jisung. “Do you have any other questions before we go?” you ask, your voice dripping in (mostly) feigned annoyance.

“No, but I probably will later.” The older brunet waves at one of his friends from anime club before looking back at the two of you one more time. “You two should go catch your bus, get home safe, yeah?”

You both nod, giving him a thumbs up as he jogs over to his friend, and you and Jeongin make your own jog for the front doors of the school.

You’re immediately greeted with a gray cloudy sky and you instantly feel the cold swirl around you. There are crowds of people littered around each section, waiting for their own respective buses. It doesn’t faze you in the least, though.

You had months of practice under your belt—years, actually, if you included shoving past couples in the school hallways who seemed to walk like they were floating on the moon. To this day, you never understood the appeal of holding up foot traffic for your fifth kiss goodbye of the hour, but whatever. Just like how other teenagers always mysteriously seemed to stop right in front of you just as you were dashing full speed for math class, you always seemed to find a way through the crowd.

It was simple, really. Like, actually simple compared to your aforementioned plan. Just keep your eyes straight ahead, and somehow, people always seem to clear a path for you. Despite your current plight, you and Jeongin have yet to miss your bus since the start of high school.

And that’s what you do. You take the lead in pushing through the masse of students, most of which are chatting amongst their friends as they meander to their ride home. Normally, you and Jeongin would talk a bit on the way, too, but you had hit the eight-minute mark thanks to your encounter with Jisung, so you had to book it.

You keep your gaze locked in front of you, only turning back occasionally to make sure you didn’t lose Jeongin in the crowd. As predicted, students who aren’t otherwise in a hurry move out of your way. You let out a small sigh of relief at this; it’s one less thing you needed to worry about as you got closer to your bus.

Next: enter separately.

By the time you and Jeongin navigate your way out of the crowd and to bus #143, you find a line of students waiting to board that stretches the length of the bus itself. You groan, but at least you wouldn’t be stranded at school, so you consider this a win.

But still, you keep your unwritten pact in mind and you gesture for Jeongin to line up. “You go first,” you mumble, gently pushing him to the end of the line and you step back to wait another minute.

Jeongin turns back to you. “Aren’t you gonna get in line too?”

You stuff your hands in your pockets and quickly scan the line. You recognize the girl in front of him from math class, and two kids from the group of boys that just got behind Jeongin used to tease you two in middle school. “Not yet,” you shake your head. “It’s not safe.”

He furrows his brows together, his lips pulling downward. “You’re shivering,” he deadpans.

Now that he mentioned it, you realize you’re jumping in place in an attempt to warm up. It’s cold outside and you’re eager to leave, but you don’t mind waiting a little longer.

After moments of hesitation, Jeongin removes a hand from his hoodie pocket and grabs your forearm, making sure your hands stay in your own pockets as he pulls you to him. “Just get in line, Y/N,” he mumbles, “the sooner you get in line, the sooner we can get out of the cold.”

With wide eyes, you immediately step back. “Are you crazy?!” you hiss. “People are gonna talk!”

“So? Let them.”

Jeongin’s words ring in your head as he pulls you back towards him one more time.

You let out a gasp when you feel your body collide with his. You blink a few times to recompose yourself and stare up at him, your mouth agape. “What’s gotten into you?” Jeongin makes a face to himself as he responds, “What’s gotten into you?”

“You know what got into me.” You give him a dubious look. “The agreement, the one we both agreed on?”

Jeongin hums, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks back over to watch the line. “Who cares?”

“I thought you did…”

His gaze burning into your skin makes you want to shrink away. Only a few months ago, he was dead set on this agreement, but now? What changed and so suddenly, at that?

“Why should we let them try to ruin our friendship?” Jeongin asks after a beat of silence. “They already tried once, and look what happened. We shouldn’t let them again.”

You freeze yet again at his words, so much that the boy has to drag you onto the bus with him. His hand on your forearm is enough to snap you out of your haze, and for some reason, it’s all you can focus on.

You feel him let your arm go after a minute, and you look over at him. He slings his backpack off his shoulders and places it by his feet as he settles into the window seat, then looks back at you. “Aren’t you gonna sit down?” he says in a similar tone as earlier, patting the empty spot next to him.

“Um…”

Jeongin looks at you expectantly. It was tempting. it really was. But you catch a familiar wisp of curly hair as the group of boys from behind you two turn the corner and strut down the aisle.

You hesitate, before sharply turning on your heel. “I’ll just sit a few rows back,” you mumble.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

Another surprised yelp leaves your lips as Jeongin pulls you out of the aisle. He tugs you by your hoodie sleeve this time, and when the group of boys walk past you, he lets his grip loosen and you feel his palm rest on your forearm again. It’s warm against your skin and you almost don’t want him to move it, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud.

The boy glances at the seat next to him, then back at you, his eyes almost weary. “Just sit, please.”

You peer over your shoulder as the group of boys collectively take their seats in the last two rows of the bus. Sighing, you supposed that it’s far enough that you would be safe, and allow yourself to plop on the torn blue leather.

“See, it’s not so bad, is it?” Jeongin smiles at you reassuringly. “No one’s gonna talk, we’ll be fine.”

He pats your forearm twice before bringing his hand back onto his lap. You almost frown at the move.

The last of the students file in after a couple more minutes and the bus slowly pulls onto the road. Jeongin leans his head against the dirty window as he plays Doodle Jump on his phone, and you mindlessly watch him try to beat his high score.

You don’t know how much time passed when the bus abruptly stops, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The two of you are thrown forward as the driver suddenly slams the brakes, and Jeongin instinctively grabs your arm to keep you from falling. You don’t, luckily, but you do bump into him.

“Ahh, sorry!” you exclaim.

Jeongin shakes his head, as if to say it’s okay. “Are you okay?”

He gives your forearm a gentle squeeze before letting go. You follow his hand as it falls back on his lap, before meeting his gaze and nodding slightly. “Yeah–” you hesitate for a second, looking down at his hand again then back at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

You nod once, giving him a tight smile before settling down properly. That is, until you catch white flecks falling outside from the corner of your eye. It takes a second to click, but once it does, you turn to the window in a flash, eyes sparkling at the view outside.

“Jeongin,” you squeal, shaking him by the shoulder and you point to his right. “Look!”

The boy slides his phone in his pocket and a grin of his own appears as he looks out the window, seeing the snowflakes blanket the outside world for the first time this winter. Leaning past Jeongin to peer outside, your smile grows even more cheerful. All you need now is a mug of hot chocolate filled to the brim with whipped cream as you curl up on the couch and put on one of your beloved Christmas movies. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be home for a while, so this would have to do for now.

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, but,” Jeongin starts after a minute, a chuckle escaping his lips, “the snow always starts when we’re together.”

“Really?” you question.

He nods, his eyes focused on what seemed to be the most interesting bush in the world to him, and he smiles. “Yeah.”

You’re not sure if it was instinct or the cold that made you want to sit closer to Jeongin. You try not to think about it.

“It's just a coincidence,” you attempt to laugh. “You can’t really predict the weather.”

“I don’t know,” Jeongin muses, clicking his tongue. “If Jisung was here right now, he’d be losing his mind.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “That boy lost his mind ages ago. We just spend a lot of time together, of course we’re gonna see the first snow together at least once.”

Jeongin shrugs his shoulders beside you, then it goes silent. You aren’t sure how long for, and you just quietly watch the white crystals of snow hit the glass window.

You feel Jeongin lean into you slightly after another moment. “That reminds me…”

You hum, looking over at him.

His smile curls into a playful smirk. “Stay for Christmas?”

You gape at him with an amused grin. Jeongin? Saying the line himself, unprompted? Who was this boy in front of you? “I thought you hated that line.”

Jeongin shrugs again, a smile still playing on his lips. “Eh, it kinda grew on me.” He pauses for a moment then speaks again. “But seriously, do you want to?”

Your brain goes static for a second. “As in, stay for Christmas? Like, for real?” He nods, and you deflate, slumping in your seat. “You know they’ll just say no.”

The hopeful smile on Jeongin’s face also fades, recalling your failed attempt last year. “I know,” he said, “but maybe it’s worth another try?”

You press your lips into a thin line, keeping your gaze down as you shrug. “We can if you want.”

Once the bus pulls up at your stop, Jeongin walks you home, but not without going inside with you to find your parents. With a reassuring hand on your back, he helps you plead your case to your parents, but as you feared, they shut you down quicker than last time.

Jeongin sends you a sad smile as he heads home that day, leaving you to mentally prepare for the hell you’re about to receive from your mother the minute the door clicks shut behind him.

16 years old.

“One, two…” your mother counts slowly as she tries her best to fit the both of you on her screen. “Get a bit closer together, guys,” she ushers you with one hand.

You huff but follow her order, and step closer to the boy next to you. “Mom, don’t you have enough photos?”

A chuckle leaves your mom's lips as she continues to take more, now at different angles. “There’s never enough photos, sugarplum!”

Jisung snorts from beside you at the nickname and you send your elbow right into his ribs to get him to shut up.

“Y/N!” your mother scolds. “Don’t be so mean, he’s being nice and taking you! Heaven knows he didn’t need to.”

“Mom!” you gasp in surprise.

“Yeah, sugarplum,” Jisung says mockingly, faking a pout as he looks down at you.

You glare up at the older boy and silently hiss. You knew this would be a bad idea, but this is still better than what you were originally going to do: go to winter formal on your own. Especially since Jeongin had his own date.

“Okay, okay,” your mother says as her gaze focuses back onto her phone. “Last ones.”

“You have plenty,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

Your mother finally lowers her phone and slips it into her oversized cardigan pocket. “Bring her home by midnight, okay? No funny business!” She borderline-chastises Jisung, and you give her a look. She’s known Jisung for years at this point, it was almost as bad as if she lectured Jeongin himself.

Luckily for you, Jisung plays along, drawing two fingers to his brow and flicking his wrist to salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Okay,” you start quickly as you hastily grab Jisung’s wrist. “We gotta go, bye!”

With that, you drag Jisung out of the door and to his car before your mother can get another word in.

“Whoa there, sugarplum, calm down,” Jisung sings, “we have all the time in the world.”

“Would you let that nickname go, please?” you groan.

Jisung unlocks his car as he walks around to the driver's seat, laughing loudly. “Never, baby.” With the car open, he stares at you and taps his temple. “That puppy is locked into the memory banks for life.”

You roll your eyes for the nth time, open the door, and let it slam behind you as you plop onto your seat with crossed arms, Jisung’s laughter filling your ears as he follows your actions. Igniting the engine, he turns the heaters to full blast and rubs his hands together to try and gain some heat.

“You good?” you ask, watching him blow hot air onto his hands.

He hums and nods his head, and turns the heaters down shortly after. “I like the car to be toasty, okay? I want to feel like a marshmallow.”

“...A marshmallow?”

Jisung nods again affirmingly. “A marshmallow.”

“I don’t even want to know,” you shake your head in amazement and look away from him.

“We’re picking Innie up first, right?” Jisung asks, his attention now on the road as he backs the car out of your driveway.

“Yeah,” you hum. “His date is meeting him there.”

After that it goes silent, partly because Jisung needs his full attention to drive, but also because there just isn’t much to say. You’re surprised Jisung hasn’t taken this time alone with you to grill and interrogate you, but maybe he had turned over a new leaf, changed his ways.

It seems more likely, however, that you just thought too highly of him, especially when he asks you about it in the next moment.

“So, how do you feel about Jeongin having his own date?”

You turn your head to look at him. “Don’t you have the road to focus on?”

“Don’t deflect, baby,” he hums. “You can’t answer a question with a question.”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” you mimic, tightening your arms around your chest.

“Now you’re just being obnoxious,” he says, which causes you to whine and throw your head back.

“Why are you even asking me? It’s fine, so what if he has his own date? I don’t care.”

“Kinda seems like you do,” Jisung sings.

“I don’t,” you spit back a second too quickly.

“Look at my face.” Jisung takes one hand, motions around his face, and sends a look towards you before focusing back on the road. “Does this face look like one that would believe your bullshit?”

“Your face looks dumb and like you’d believe any type of bullshit,” you mutter, your arms still crossed.

“Now, I know you’re only saying that because you’re annoyed at me for pointing out the obvious.” Jisung laughs. “It's okay, I forgive you and I know I’m the most handsome guy you’ve ever laid your eyes on.”

“You need to get your ego checked.”

Pulling up at the corner of Jeongin’s street, Jisung places the car in park. “The things I do for this friendship,” he sighs dramatically as he pulls out his phone to text Jeongin.

You shake your head, keeping your gaze out the window. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I think you misspelled the word ‘genius’, sugarplum.”

You side-eye the older boy, whose smug smile is illuminated by the light emitting from his phone. “I wasn’t spelling anything.”

“Misspoke, then.” Jisung locks his phone and looks at you innocently. “Same thing. Jeongin’s on his way.”

“Not the same thing,” you mumble before you nod your head. “Okay, but how is he going to sneak out in a suit?”

The sudden thought came to your mind. Jeongin had family come in from out of town for this large family party, which admittedly, he didn’t want to be there for. However, his family would definitely notice if he just walked out of the house in a tux.

“That's where my genius comes in,” Jisung smirks and points to the back seat. “Emergency tux.”

You look back and there is, in fact, a tuxedo folded neatly on the middle seat along with a belt to match, ready for Jeongin to wear for the formal. You stare at it for a moment too long before your gaze settles on Jisung. “What emergency is there where you need a tux?”

The older boy shrugs and makes a face. “A fancy one?”

You blink as you look at him, but you couldn’t stop the side of your lips turning up into a smile. “I really don’t get you sometimes.”

His confident grin makes your own grow wider. He leans forward slightly and ruffles your hair with one hand, causing you to groan before flipping down the sun visor and looking in the tiny mirror on the back of it as you try to fix it.

Jisung laughs as he watches you. “It's okay, you can say how amazing I am and how much you love me, you don’t have to pretend.”

Whilst fixing your hair in the mirror, your mouth twists into a disgusted frown and you send him a glare. “I repeat what I said earlier, you need your ego checked.”

“You’ll admit it one day,” he jokes.

You close the visor back up. “Not gonna happen.”

Before Jisung has the chance to say anything else, the right back door opens up. Jeongin throws himself in and sighs contentedly at the warmth that surrounds him. After a moment, he opens his eyes and smiles at the both of you sitting in the front. “Hey, guys!”

“Hi,” you smile.

Jisung smiles too and points to the suit behind him, which makes Jeongin clap his hands in delight. “Emergency tux?” he says.

Jisung clicks his tongue, sending a wink and a finger gun the younger boy’s way. “Emergency tux, baby.”

With furrowed eyebrows, you blink at the boys. “What is it with you and emergency tuxes? Seriously, what would you even need an emergency tux for?”

“A fancy emergency,” Jeongin answers matter-of-factly, which causes Jisung to point at him and nod.

“See, he gets it!” he agrees. “Hey, without that emergency tux, Innie would be going in sweats to the formal. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”

You roll your eyes and look away from them. “Guess not.”

“See, Y/N?” Jisung reaches over to ruffle your hair again, and you successfully duck your head away this time. He chuckles and draws his hand back, shifting the gear to drive and bringing his attention back to the road. “There's a method to my madness.”

You just huff, slumping back in your seat in defeat as he turned the car around.

“Wait,” Jeongin pipes up as Jisung straightens out the wheel, “how am I supposed to change?”

“As I said, there’s a method to my madness.,” Jisung says, perhaps a bit too confidently as he pulls out of the street. “Just give me a minute.”

You narrow your eyes at Jisung, who keeps a straight face as he drives. You almost hate it more than his smug smile from a few minutes ago. At least then, you had the slightest clue to what he was thinking. The fact that the car is silent, save for the quiet Christmas music on the radio, does nothing to calm your worries.

Unfortunately, it looks like your gut feeling was right as you realize Jisung is pulling into a stop just right outside your neighborhood.

“Here you go,” Jisung announces proudly, placing the car in park again. “Changing time!”

Your eyes bulging out of your head, you snap your head to Jisung. “Are you insane?!” you hiss. “We’re in public!”

The older—but you were very hesitant to say wiser—boy shrugs. “He’s gotta do it somewhere! It’s either here or the school parking lot.”

“You didn’t think about a gas station?!”

“Guys, it’s fine,” Jeongin says, his voice wavering slightly as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Just... just don’t look, please.”

You cover the sides of your eyes as you keep your gaze out the window. Every now and then, you hear Jeongin hit something in the back, causing him to groan in pain and Jisung to holler at his misery.

This goes on for almost a minute before you hear the gear shift click. Keeping your hands around the sides of your eyes, you glower at Jisung, who smirks deviously as he pulls the lever to drive. “Don’t. You. Dare,” you grumble.

“Oh, watch me,” Jisung snickers, tapping his foot on the gas.

“Hey! I’m not done yet!” Jeongin shouts as the car inches forward, sending Jisung into another fit of laughter.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

Jisung abruptly hits the brake, causing Jeongin to shriek as he thuds against the back of your seat. The older boy lets out another cackle at this, clapping his hands as he throws his head back. He glances at you in hopes that you’re just as amused, but you only glare at him.

He lets out a drawn-out but satisfied sigh, and puts the car in park again. “Ahhh, that was fun.”

You stay silent, maintaining your pointed stare.

“Chillax, Y/N.” He nudges your shoulder, but remains overly cheerful even though you don't budge. “Ooh, look! Snow!“

You blink. As tempting as it is to take your eyes off of him, something in your gut begs you not to.

“I’m serious!” Jisung cries again, pointing fervently in front of him.

You sigh and turn your head slightly. At least he wasn’t lying about the snow, although it does seem lighter this year. A few snowflakes trickle down here and there, but it’s nowhere near enough to obstruct the view outside. And it definitely isn’t enough to keep Jisung from starting and stopping the car one more time, sending Jeongin crashing into the back of your seat again and proving your worries correct.

“I’m gonna kill you,” the younger boy scowls, and you lean over to flick the older one on the forehead.

“Agh!” Jisung slaps your hand away, stifling a giggle. “Okay, okay! I'm done now!”

“You better be,” Jeongin grumbles.

After a few minutes, he gasps. “Done,” he says, and you drop your hands from either side of your eyes.

You look in the rearview mirror, Jeongin in full view as he adjusts his tie. Sure, the suit was a size too big, and the jacket almost slipped off the ends of his shoulders, but he somehow seemed to make it work. You couldn’t explain how, it just has this charm that perfectly complements the sweet but awkward boy you’ve grown so fond of. It’s so incredibly Jeongin, and it makes you smile like a dope.

But as he runs his hands through his hair, in desperate attempts to fix it, you feel your breath hitch in your throat. That… was new. And different. By now, one would look away, but for some reason, you can’t.

That is, however, when you notice Jisung’s eyes are locked on you, his eyebrows ever-so-slightly raised in amusement. You look down at your hands as you feel your cheeks get hot. Now that was another thing you’d have to explain to the older fool. Great.

Snow continues to fall from the sky as Jisung resumes the drive to school, but it never goes past a light sprinkle. It wasn’t even enough to coat the ground in that fluffy, white blanket you had grown accustomed to in the last few years. Every so often, the older boy glances over at you, catching you lingering at the rearview mirror as Jeongin uses his phone camera to fix his hair. It only makes you sink lower and lower into your chair, and you resort to keeping your eyes on your lap for the rest of the ride.

You don’t look up again until you feel the car stop and hear the gear shift click back into park.

“We’re here,” Jisung announces in a singsong voice.

“I can tell,” you grumble, recognizing the dimly lit courtyard in front of you.

“There she is!” Jeongin seems to have spotted his date and he squeaks, checking himself in the rearview mirror one last time. “Do I look okay?” he asks, a hopeful smile on his face.

You both turn back to look at him. You open your mouth to speak but can’t get anything out, and you find yourself stupidly staring at him again.

“You look great, Jeongin.” Jisung smiles over his shoulder. He glances at you for a second, flashing his eyebrows at you, and you turn back around in embarrassment. “Now gooo, she”s waiting!” He winks at the younger boy, ushering him out of the car.

Jeongin chuckles, smoothing out his oversized suit once more before he leaves. You keep your gaze out the windshield the whole time, staring at nothing in particular, but you notice that the snow stops entirely once Jeongin wraps his arms around his date and escorts her inside.

You feel your breath get caught in your throat again. “We–” you start, then pause to clear your throat. “Yeah, we should get going, too.”

Keeping your eyes locked in place, you blindly reach down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You’ve never felt more suffocated in a vehicle in your life and everything inside you was screaming at you to get out.

But Jisung, ever-persistent, seemed to be working against you all evening. He reaches over, gently grabbing your arm before you can touch the door handle. “Uh, uh, uh, you’re not going anywhere.”

You silently groan in your mind as you turn to face him with a sour look. “What do you want?”

His mouth curls up into a smirk. “What was that just now?”

“What was what just now?”

You tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowed with your lips pursed together. No matter how hard you try to keep a straight face, it only seems to egg him on more.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Jisung nudges you repeatedly, his smirk growing wider. “That whole staring at Innie thing! It’s almost like you just realized how in love you are with him.”

A scoff escapes your lips almost instantly. Seeing Jeongin in that suit was… an experience, to say the least, but to go as far as to say you were in love with him?

That said, it doesn’t surprise you that this all came from the guy who genuinely believed his crush would ask him out at midnight if he made a wish and forwarded a poorly-formatted copypasta to seventeen people. Bless his heart, but you’re smarter than that.

Really, you couldn’t pinpoint what sucked the breath out of your lungs when you laid eyes on Jeongin in the rearview mirror. All you could caulk it up to was some ill-timed coming-of-age epiphany: you two were sixteen now, and you could do things the sixteen-year-olds in movies do all the time. It’s a strange pill to swallow, but unlike Jeongin, it didn’t even occur to you that you could’ve asked someone out to winter formal. Everyone else your age seemed to jump at the chance, but a small part of you figured you and Jeongin would’ve gone together—as friends, of course.

Of course, you know Jisung wouldn’t buy that answer, so you had to think of something else. Something more his style.

“That’s— that’s not what happened.” You take a breath then wave him off with your hand as you continue. “It's just the tuxedo effect, it’ll be gone in the morning.”

You turn to get out of the car (again), hoping Jisung would leave it at that, but he leans over (again), grabbing your hand this time.

“No, no, no, sugarplum, you aren’t getting away that easily.”

You want to scream. Praying for the earth to swallow you whole sounds good, too. Anything over facing Jisung, whose eyebrows are raised as he nosily rests his chin on his palm.

“Spill.”

You lightly push him away from you as you sigh. “What is there to spill? It’s…” You pause, before continuing in a rushed mumble. “It's when you find someone attractive because of the fact that they’re wearing a suit.”

Jisung blinks a number of times before he bursts into laughter.

“That’s so bullshit! Finding someone attractive just because they’re wearing a suit?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “That's insane.”

“Oh, so magical snow makes complete sense, but finding someone attractive because of a suit doesn’t?”

“It’s not magical snow, it’s fate and romance all twisted into one!”

“Whatever, you’re hopeless.” You throw your hands up in defeat. “My point still stands: it’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

The main doors capture your attention and your eyes linger on it as multiple other students filter in and out of the formal. Your shoulders tighten and an unexplainable uneasy feeling makes a home for itself in your chest.

“I thought this was what you wanted…” Jisung starts, his gaze following yours, “for people to not think you guys were dating.”

“It’s not that,” you respond quietly.

“Then what is it?” he asks, matching your tone.

“It’s just…” you begin. “It’s weird to think he’s at the age where he’s actually thinking about liking someone and dating people.”

“But you know what that means?” Jisung asks, prompting you to break your staring contest with the school doors and look at him. “It also means you’re old enough to do the same thing: date and move on.”

You scoff, open the car door, and put one foot out, ready to leave. “I don’t know what you’re on about, shut up.” You get up and let the door swing closed behind you.

Jisung quickly follows suit and makes his way around the front of his car and over to you. He places one hand on one of your shoulders, as the other delicately moves some of the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear.

“I’ll stop bothering you about this, yeah?” he says, his voice more gentle than teasing this time. You could count the number of times he’s spoken to you like this on one hand. “At least, I’ll stop for now. And if Jeongin won’t tell you, then I will—you look absolutely beautiful.”

Gently lifting your chin with two fingers, Jisung leans over and places a light kiss upon your forehead. You swear that for a minute, your heart stopped beating. Even with all of the overly sweet nicknames and the babying, Jisung had never gone so far as to do something so physically affectionate with you as this. However, you like it. You like it a lot more than you thought you would.

His lips linger there for a moment longer before he pulls away with a smile. “You’re more than capable of going after what you want. But don’t let him cloud your judgment tonight. Have fun, make memories.”

The older boy steps back from you, but offers an arm for you to take. Once you do, he leans in slightly and chuckles. “And try not to let this so-called tuxedo effect get to you too much,” Jisung adds as an afterthought. “You might fall in love with me by the end of the night.”

Using the arm linked around his, you deliver a light smack to his chest.

“In your dreams, asshole.”

…

Spending the night with Jisung as your quote-unquote “date” was more of a blast than you thought it would be. From the flavorful fruit punch and the obviously bulk-bought snacks, it truly was a night to remember.

You made sure to catch plenty of Jisung’s dad-dancing on your phone—for blackmail purposes, of course. And when it got to that normally awkward slow dance section of the night, Jisung did what he did best and made it anything but that. Sure, you stood on his toes once or twice, but he didn’t complain, at least verbally, and all-in-all, the night seemed to be a success.

From the few glances you stole during the night, Jeongin also seemed to enjoy his time with his date. The feverish look he had in his eyes when he hopped in the back of Jisung’s car paired with the hint of lipstick on his cheek confirmed it for you. You decide not to dwell too much on it, taking Jisung’s advice, and just hand Jeongin a makeup wipe before he could stroll home with crystal clear evidence on his face that he was ever gone.

The car might as well have been a fridge as you’re sitting there, hands rubbing together so quickly you could start a fire in your attempt to gain warmth. Jisung had started the car already, but his heaters are taking much longer to kick in compared to earlier. Jeongin, now laid out across the back seat, gushes about how the night was and how breathtaking his date seemed to be in her off-white dress. (You don’t know who would wear white to a school dance, but you try your best not to judge.)

His rambles, however, are soon cut short by Jisung, who looks at him through his rearview mirror. “Sorry, buddy, but you need to change before you get home, remember?”

Jeongin huffs as he pulls himself up into a sitting position and nods his head. He looks at you, to Jisung, back to you, then Jisung again. “You’re not going to do that stop-start thing again, are you?”

“Nah.” Jisung waves him off with one hand. “Wouldn’t be as funny the second time. Plus, I feel like sugarplum here would kill me.”

Jeongin’s eyebrows furrow together slightly. “‘Sugarplum?’”

“Don’t ask,” you say hollowly, and send Jisung a stern look to not answer Jeongin either. But in all honesty, if ‘sugarplum’ was the main thing the older boy took from tonight, you’d be completely fine with that.

“Just hurry up and change, nimrod,” Jisung says as he once again looks in the mirror.

You stare at him blankly. “What the heck is this? The eighties?”

“Just say you’re jealous and go, okay, sugarplum?” Jisung makes a face, and you throw your hands up dismissively.

“Did someone spike the punch?” Jeongin asks. “You’re both acting weird tonight.” Every now and then, you hear bumps and noises as he attempts to get back into his sweats in an orderly fashion.

“We’re not being weird,” you respond flatly, your eyes locked on a shallow puddle on the sidewalk from the snowfall, if you could even call it that. You try your best to change the subject and keep Jeongin from questioning you more. “Are you done yet? Can we go?”

With one last grunt, Jeongin succeeds in getting his head through the hole of his sweatshirt. “Yep, you can drive, Jisung.”

That was enough for Jisung to pull the car into drive and to get on the way.

You drum your fingers against the dashboard as Jisung drives, using everything in you to not pluck off the acrylic nails that took you an hour to stick on. You’re pleasantly surprised with how little this whole operation had gone wrong, and you could only hope that the rest of the trip would stay this way.

You don’t even allow yourself to relax into your chair until you three pull to the corner of Jeongin’s street for the second time. Jisung nearly laughs at you for this, but you quickly silence him with another smack to the chest.

“Owie! Looks like sugarplum’s feisty tonight,” Jisung cries, flashing you a fake frown.

You wince at the nickname and turn around, ignoring him. “Jeongin, do you have everything?”

Jeongin haphazardly tosses the bunched-up tuxedo on the seat beside him as he nods. He slides across the back seat and reaches for the door handle before you stop him in his tracks.

“Wait.” You lean over the back seat and quickly wipe at his cheek, and he attempts to back away. “You missed a bit of lipstick, idiot,” you state flatly, ignoring the sudden heat you feel creeping up your neck. “You’re basically asking to get caught.”

Jisung sits and stares as he watches you wipe away the little remnants of lipstick on Jeongin’s cheek, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way the tips of Jeongin’s ears turn a subtle pink color at your touch.

“Ah,” Jeongin chuckles awkwardly, “thanks.”

It is when Jeongin exits the vehicle that you finally take a closer look at what he was wearing. He wasn’t just wearing any sweatshirt—it was purple. Suddenly you remember your plight from earlier and your breath catches in your throat for the third time tonight.

“Wait, Y/N.” You hear Jeongin knock on your window, snapping you out of your daze.

You turn over and lower the glass, Jisung snickering under his breath all the while. “Yeah?”

A stupid grin comes over Jeongin’s face as he utters his next words.

“Stay for Christmas?”

You scoff and suppress a laugh. Maybe if he wasn’t still on a high from the formal, you would've considered asking your parents again this year. But what’s the point if they’ll just say no?

“Not a chance, now go home.”

After making sure Jeongin climbed into his bedroom window, Jisung turns the car around and takes you home. As he pulls into your driveway, you quickly notice how all of the lights are off in your house, minus the porch light. You let out a sigh of relief—your parents must be asleep.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to Jisung with a smile. “Thank you, Jisung,” you hum. “Tonight was fun.”

“That's alright, sugarplum, glad to be of service,” he shoots you a toothy grin and salutes.

You once again wince at the nickname, but decide to let it go this time. You quickly lean across the dashboard and place a kiss on Jisung’s cheek. “And thank you for what you said earlier, it meant a lot.”

Jisung chuckles as you pull away. “You’re not falling for me, now, are you?” he quips.

“Don’t ruin the moment.” You slap him on the arm, and pause for a moment before opening the car door. “Just, thank you for tonight, seriously.”

“Y/N, it’s fine, I had fun too.” Jisung smiles. “Just make sure to get inside, it’s cold.”

You smile back and hum once more. Shutting the car door behind you, you rush your way up to your front porch before turning back to Jisung with a final wave. Then, you’re met with warmth, welcoming you after a long trip away as you get ready for bed.

The next morning, however, you’re greeted by two very angry parents.

By the time you got home last night, both your parents were already asleep, so you thought you had successfully gotten away with everything. Even if they were awake, they had no way to know what you did. But it turns out Jeongin’s cousin, Jungwon, caught him sneaking in and immediately snitched to his parents, who, in turn, texted yours, and probably Jisung’s as well.

Let's just say that you are now grounded well into the new year. No going out for a whole month, except maybe the Christmas party next week, if your parents are feeling generous.

You know it’s going to suck being confined to your house for the entirety of winter break, but you suppose that’s the price you pay for being a loyal best friend. If anyone was going to help Jeongin sneak out to a school dance, it’s you—even if you wouldn’t be the one to go with him in the end.

You’d do it again in a heartbeat.

17 years old.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you whine.

“Nooo,” Jeongin drones from behind you, “just be patient. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

You sigh impatiently as he guides you by the shoulders to… somewhere. The December cold swirls around you, biting at your cheeks as you attempt to swivel your head and look around. You don’t know why you even bothered trying, though, as Jeongin had tied a black cloth over your eyes before he drove you off to this mystery location.

Despite this, he still instructed you to keep your eyes shut. It felt excessive, but you obliged to make him happy.

“Fine, but do I really need the blindfold?” You bend your head up and over, looking to your best guess as to where Jeongin is. You can feel his hands on your shoulders, so wherever you’re staring couldn’t have been far off.

“Yes— well, not really.” Jeongin laughs sheepishly and he helps you onto what you assume is a crosswalk. “It was Jisung’s idea.”

You snort, shaking your head to yourself as you try your best to walk in a straight line. “Of course it was.”

Upbeat chatter and Christmas music dances around your ears as you near the still-unknown location. You can’t see a thing, but you can already feel the aura of holiday cheer everywhere around you, just waiting to sweep you off your feet. It is just a week shy of Christmas, after all.

Soon Jeongin comes to a stopping point, and you feel his hands leave your shoulders. “Can I take off the blindfold now?” you frown, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“Yah, just wait!” Jeongin scolds, but you hear a light chuckle quickly follow. “Patience, Y/N.”

You feel his fingers gently graze your hair after a moment, finding its way to the knot on the back of your head. He gets it undone quickly, but holds the cloth around your head as he counts down.

“Three… two… one…” he says softly, slowly removing the blindfold from your eyes and unveiling the scene in front of you.

The glinting lights make you wince for a moment before your eyes get used to the new sudden brightness. You gasp at the sight in front of you, almost jumping out of your shoes in joy. Thousands of Christmas lights are hung up around trees, swirled around lamp posts, and hung overhead for people to walk under. It is breathtaking, truly breathtaking.

You spin around to face Jeongin in an instant. His smile almost puts the lights out of business. “You brought me to the lights?”

“No, I brought you to the desert.” The boy rolls his eyes, his words coated with sarcasm—but still, he smiles. “Yes, I brought you to the lights, dummy.”

His warmth soon overtakes yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in close. He freezes for a moment, but soon lets his arms wrap around your waist. He squeezes you tight one final time before he pulls away, looking at you with a tender smile.

“We should go, don’t want to miss out on the lights, do you?”

You aren’t sure if he meant to grab your hand as he drags you away, but you don’t do anything to let go, either. You just stare down at your enjoined hands as you follow him, the background noise blurring away into nothing, overtaken by your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Minutes seem to tick by before you can bring yourself to look up again. Your gaze lands on the back of Jeongin’s head, and it only seems to intensify when he swiftly turns his head. Something about the way his hair flowed with the quick action almost makes you dizzy, and you have to look back down to shake yourself out of it.

You finally have the courage to let your eyes trail back up again a moment later. Immediately, something in the air feels different. Jeongin had turned back to check on you, and a cluster of yellow and white lights seemed to give him a halo-like ring above his head. The music and chatter blurs around you once again, fading into a quiet buzz as your body stiffens and you nearly lose your breath. It’s like you’re the main character of one of those animes Jeongin tried to get you to watch, like the one where the boy and the girl stumble upon a field of fireflies together in the middle of the night. Here you two are, a mere speck amongst the thousands of lights, yet the boy in front of you seems to shine brighter than them all.

It’s strange to think about. You are here for the Christmas lights—no, Jeongin brought you here for the Christmas lights—but all you can focus on is him.

“Are you okay?”

The three words and a light squeeze of your hand pull you back down to earth. You didn’t realize Jeongin stepped closer to you, and you feel yourself exhale shakily, your hand slowly slipping from his grasp.

You stare back with wide eyes, and something inside you compels you to step closer to him. “Y-Yeah,” is all you manage to get out.

The colorful lights seem to flicker as you look around. For a second, they do feel like little fireflies, floating around you as they emit their warmth. And when your gaze lands back on the boy in front of you, the warmth seems to encircle you even more. You nearly forget about the cold nipping at your cheeks, and a rosy glow fills them instead.

“It’s just… I…”

As your eyes meet Jeongin’s once again, you can’t help but notice a slight redness in his cheeks as well. His lips curve upward slightly, and he gently takes your hands in his.

“I know. It’s beautiful.”

You smile up at Jeongin and notice something moving behind him. You squint, looking past his ear, and find those all-too-familiar fluffy crystals fluttering down. Immediately, your jaw drops and your smile grows wider.

“Jeongin, look!” You let go of one of his hands and point to the snow surrounding you.

The scene unfolding around you leaves you awestruck. The colors from the lights bounce off the falling snowflakes, and the music seems to chime more vividly as the snow whisks around, making everything feel brighter and more alive. You feel like your head is spinning as you swivel around, sparkles in your eyes that could rival the spectacle in front of you.

A shaky breath leaves your lips as you take one more step towards Jeongin. Your hands slowly find their way up his shoulders and around his neck, and you let his body heat swaddle you, wrapping you up in a wintry glow as you take it all in. It truly feels like you’re in a dream.

Jeongin follows your gaze and chuckles, a fond smile on his face as he gently pulls you closer. “Yes, Y/N, I know what snow is. Is snow bad?”

You look at him again, your wide, shimmering eyes meeting his warm ones. In that moment, nothing else mattered: just you, the snow, and the boy in front of you.

“It's perfect.”

And like the blonde girl in the firefly scene, you’d give anything for the moment to last forever.

…

“Where were you?”

Your mother’s words nearly make you jump out of your skin the second you step in the house, and you hiss to yourself. Your time with Jeongin at the light festival had swept you off your feet so much that you forgot you weren’t even supposed to be there.

After the events from last year, your parents had grounded you for a whole month, effectively barring you from even stepping foot outside of the house unless it was to school and back. Even worse, they grew so concerned about your so-called “excessive time with this boy” that they placed a strict curfew on you once your grounding sentence was lifted. No seeing friends—read: no seeing Jeongin—after 8pm, lest unspeakable things happen to you. It was ridiculous, not only because you’re seventeen, but because, somehow, your best friend since you were nine was now this supposed threat.

The only way you had been able to skirt around this was to lie, usually about studying at a coffee shop with an unnamed friend. You can’t remember what excuse you gave this time, but at this point, it didn’t matter much.

Your mother crosses her arms, a look of disapproval etched on her features. “Where were you, really? And don’t say the school library this time.”

You curse to yourself, your mistake dawning on you. Why'd you pick a Saturday night to say you were meeting up with some friends at the school library? Did your excitement over Jeongin and his ‘mystery surprise’ really mess with your head that much? It couldn’t have been him… could it?

After a minute, you conclude that you just slipped up after exhausting your list of excuses over the course of the year. It was bound to happen.

“Well?” your mother says expectantly.

You just sigh, throwing up your hands in defeat. “I was with Jeongin.”

Your eyes flick up, waiting for her next frustrated ramble about how you’ve been spending too much time with him. Instead, you get a throaty chuckle as she shakes her head at you, a smirk taking the place of her frown.

“Of course you were.”

Blinking, you stare at her in shock. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It means nothing.” She turns around, busying herself with wiping some crumbs off the dining table. However, after closer inspection, you see that the table is spotless.

“No, it means something,” you protest. What happened to all her complaints about how much time you’ve spent with Jeongin? Why the sudden change of heart?

“I didn’t say anything, sweetheart,” your mom says. “But did he?”

“Did he what?”

“You know, the three words,” she looks up, sending you a wink and imitating Jeongin, “‘Stay for Christmas?’”

Mortified, you feel heat rush up to your ears as your mother lets out another laugh. “Mom!”

You refuse to admit it to her, but you actually said it first this year.

It was just half an hour ago. Jeongin walked you to your car, a gentle hand on the small of your back as he followed you down his driveway. He wrapped you up in a strong embrace before you could even unlock your car, and you looped your arms around his neck in return, smiling into his shoulder.

The hug was sweet—Jeongin’s hugs, which seemed to increase in frequency lately, always were. But he held you for a second longer than normal in this one, and when you tried to let go, he let out a small whine and held you closer to him for one more moment. The move took you by surprise, but you hugged him back nonetheless.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you melted into his hold, letting your head fall against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat could’ve lulled you to sleep if you let it, and the light snowfall twirling around you two certainly didn’t help matters. Gradually, you relaxed your arms, letting them hang loosely around his neck, and you let out a contented sigh. You truly never felt more at peace.

Maybe it was safe to say something in the air shifted while you were wrapped up in each other’s arms. Usually, he’d give you a fond chuckle and a curt pat on the back right before he pulled away and took off. But when the two of you finally let go, you opened your eyes to find him smiling down at you. Something akin to affection swam in his soft irises as he slowly pulled back, his hands gently resting on your waist. It was… different, for sure, especially coming from him.

You smiled back warmly, linking your hands together behind his neck. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin nodded his head, an adoring smile still tugging at his lips. “Just… got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Something seemed to swirl in his features that you couldn’t quite pick up. You registered the return of the light pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood under the streetlight together, but nothing else. It was probably just the cold that stirred this up, so you decided not to ask.

You could only stare back at him as you tried to think of something else to say. Something about the position you two were in—arms wrapped around each other under the moonlight—felt too close to lovers in the movies. You couldn’t explain why, but it made your brain go static. And in your attempt to relieve the tension, you gulped once and spat out the first stupid one-liner that came to mind.

“By any chance, are any of those things ‘Stay for Christmas’?”

Of course it had to be that.

Jeongin let out a light scoff, rolling his eyes playfully as he dropped his hands from your waist. You giggled at his disappointment, but you instantly missed the warmth that radiated from him. Luckily, you had half a mind not to say that out loud.

“Okay, moment over,” he mumbled, gently pushing you towards your car. “Get home safe, Y/N.”

“I’m just kidding!” your mother cries in exasperation, bringing your focus back to her. “I know I can’t stop you from seeing him. He is your,” she pauses to make air quotes, “‘best friend’, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “He’s my best friend. No air quotes needed.”

Your mother nods, clearly not believing you. “Right… for now.”

Feeling more blood rush to your face, you roll your eyes and unceremoniously march upstairs. “Goodnight, mom.”

She’s crazy, right? Absolutely. You know yourself and you know your friendships better than anyone. You and Jeongin are best friends for a reason—nothing more, and certainly nothing less. The way you felt like you were on cloud nine just hours ago? It was a one-time thing, you were just fascinated by the lights.

Jeongin had nothing to do with it.

18 years old.

Your scarf is wrapped tightly around your neck and face in attempts to shield yourself from the cold. You jump on the balls of your feet in place as you wait for one of the Yang family to open the door and invite you into the familiar warmth. It’s pretty much tradition at this point to spend at least part of Christmas Eve with the Yangs, but they’re hosting the Christmas party this year so it’s just another reason to stop by.

Shoving your hands into your coat pockets, your eyes brighten when you see movement through the front door window. Soon enough, Mrs Yang opens up the door with a smile of her own.

"Y/N!" She sings, ushering you in before she pulls you into a hug. "I think Jeongin's still asleep, so you can do those honors?" She chuckles.

You pull away, slip off your coat and scarf, and hang them up before you rush up the stairs. "Leave it to me, Mrs. Yang!"

Once you’re up the top of the stairs, you creep down the hallway and knock on the door. When you get no response, you just let yourself in.

The scene in front of you is something you expect, but it brings a fond smile to your face nonetheless. Jeongin is spread out across his bed, his blanket bunched up around his chin. His hair is all fluffy from a good night’s sleep and his face looks peaceful as he snores lightly, like nothing in the world could ever hurt him.

Going over to his bed, you let yourself fall onto it and your head rest on the pillow next to him. Examining his face, you notice how his eyelashes lay against his cheeks and how his lips part slightly as he breathes.

"I can feel you staring at me," Jeongin says, his eyes still closed.

You clutch your chest in surprise as you roll onto your back. "Oh my god, why do you have to scare me like that?” you cry, staring at the ceiling. "You could have said you were awake."

"But then you wouldn't get your chance to admire me," he chuckles as he finally opens his eyes.

"Shut up, no I wasn't!"

"I don't know, your stare felt pretty heavy to me."

You glare at him, flying up and off of his bed before ripping the blanket off of him.

"Y/N! What the hell?!" Jeongin gasps, shooting up so he’s sitting. "What if I was naked?!"

"I know you too well, you don't sleep naked." You bend down to stare at him. "You'd be too scared to sleep naked," you add as you throw his blanket back onto his bed.

Jeongin rolls his eyes, grabbing the blanket before he wraps it around himself like a burrito. "What are you doing here anyway?" he mumbles. He runs one hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but all it really did was make it even more fluffy. Something about it makes your heart quicken its pace.

"Don't you remember what day it is?"

Jeongin blinks slowly, his tiredness showing. "Friday?"

You groan, sitting down on his bed again before quickly grabbing his pillow to hit him with it. "It's the Christmas," hit, "party,” another hit, “you idiot!"

You attempt to hit him again, but he catches the pillow with his hands and pulls it away from you.

This only causes you to stumble into him, also making Jeongin fall back in the process. A gasp escapes your lips and you use your hand to stop yourself from head-butting the groggy boy. You blink quickly, his eyes gazing into your own. His nose brushes up against yours ever-so-slightly, and you clear your throat, your cheeks flushing.

"This is your fault,” you attempt to joke.

"Me?!" Jeongin scoffs. "You hit me first!" Mimicking his words silently, you roll your eyes. "Uh, but can you move, you're a bit heavy."

Your eyes widen and you scoot away with lightning speed. "Sorry.” You blink, staring down to play with your fingers in your lap.

"By the way," Jeongin says, "I didn't forget today was the Christmas party."

“Well, that’s why I’m here early, to help out,” you mutter, your face still down.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Jeongin gets off of his bed, goes over to his drawers and pulls out the first shirt he finds before pulling his pajama top over his head. You jump and turn in the opposite direction, your cheeks fully flushed.

“Jeongin!” you whine, holding the backs of your hands to your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. “You could have warned me or told me to leave.”

“Aww, you blushing?” Jeongin snickers. “Never seen a boy undress before?”

Without looking back at him, you try your best to chuck his pillow in his direction. You hear it thump against the wall instead.

“You missed~” Jeongin sings, which makes you scoff.

“And I wasn’t blushing, asshole, just didn’t want to get scarred for life.”

Of course you’re blushing. Especially when he nonchalantly stood and started to strip off his top. And of course you had seen men undress before… in the movies. But there’s no way you’d utter a word of it to Jeongin, not when it would send his already-soaring ego to new heights.

“We both know that your life would actually be improved,” Jeongin chuckles to himself.

He walks across his room and when he comes into your peripheral, you instantly move to cover your eyes. It doesn’t help your reddening cheeks when the sound of Jeongin’s laughter rings out louder.

You feel his fingers wrap themselves around your wrists as you try to fight him from pulling them away from your face. “I’m dressed, idiot, stop being so shy.”

“Stop making fun of me!” you cry and he guides your hands away from your face.

Your eyes meet his and you notice the cheeky smile playing at his lips, which only turns yours into a pout. You only wish he’ll soon forget about this and move on to something different to make fun of you with. However, when you note the playful twinkle in his eyes, you know your prayers won’t be answered.

“Look, you’re blushing so hard!” He continues to smirk.

“I told you, I’m not blushing!”

You attempt to hit him, but with his fingers still wrapped around your wrists, you fail to do so. His grin seems to only grow wider as you roll your eyes and try to pull your wrists from his grasp.

“By the way, Jisung said he was going to stop by later for the party,” you mention. Jeongin’s smile seems to drop slightly at the sound of the older boy’s name.

“Why? He doesn’t live in the neighborhood.”

You shrug as you look at Jeongin with a blank expression. “How am I meant to know how Jisung’s brain works? He's in a world of his own.”

Jeongin hums, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“But in all seriousness,” you start, “he said something about missing us, and that, like, his college just isn’t the same without us?” you suggest. “Also, there was something about this girl he really likes and magic snow and shit,” you add, which causes Jeongin to snort.

“Did he actually say this or you making it up?”

“It’s more like reading between the lines, if you will,” you giggle.

“So he didn’t say shit, you’re just making it up as you go along.”

Jeongin crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at you, waiting for you to formulate your next response. But when the only one he gets is you playfully hitting his arm, he rolls his eyes for the nth time.

“Don’t we have to help set up the party or something? Or a movie to watch?”

“Right, yeah. We should do that.”

Jeongin laughs and as soon as he grabs your hand, flashbacks instantly flare up in your mind from the year before, of the Christmas lights he took you to see—of the way he seemed to shine under them all. You make sure to wish again that he won’t notice the new blush that presented itself as you thought of that time.

You keep quiet, not wanting to give yourself away as Jeongin gently pulls you out with him. You let your eyes gloss over his room once more. You’ve been in here a thousand times before and it seemed to grow with him over the years, and in a way, it grew with you, too. You remember the days when his bed was adorned with Toy Story bedsheets, Woody’s face front and center on his comforter (but you knew Rex was his favorite character). It had long since been traded in for sleek, black sheets—arguably more fitting for someone who is waiting for his first choice university, at the other side of the country, to respond with his admission decision.

And although you’ve been here a thousand times before, something new on his dresser catches your eye.

“Wait, is that…?”

Letting go of his hand, you make your way to the dresser, moving a crumpled up piece of paper out of the way to reveal a photo. It’s from when you were both ten years old; nearly a year after you had first met on the monkey bars, about two weeks before that classroom Christmas party. Mrs. Yang had taken Jeongin to a lights festival one December weekend, like the one you went to last year, and she happened to invite you and your parents along. You and Jeongin stood together in the center of the picture, and a giant Christmas tree towered behind your small frames. The mirthful glow of the tree enveloped the two of you as you posed for the photo, jolly smiles plastered on both of your faces.

Gasping in surprise, your lips part slightly as you take the photo in your hands. “No way…” you murmur softly, and you look up at Jeongin as he makes his way to you. “How… how did you find this?”

Jeongin peers over your shoulder. He gently holds the frame in one hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he smiles fondly. “My mom stumbled across it a couple months ago. She was digging through old photo albums and found this tucked in the back of one of them.” His thumb grazes over the glass. “She framed it and gave it to me, I guess she knew how important it was.”

You blink several times, hoping he doesn't catch the way your eyes briefly well with tears as you take in the details of the picture. You remember that night vividly and all the memories from it seem to come flooding back all at once.

It was your first ever Christmas lights festival, and it was nothing short of magical. The vibrant holiday lights glistened all around you, rivaling the sparkles in your wide eyes. The bells in the soft Christmas music gently tinkled in your ears, as if Santa himself was reminding you he would be on his way soon. The gooey, fresh-baked (and rather expensive) chocolate chip cookie you had split with Jeongin, paired with the rich (and also questionably pricey) hot chocolate you had begged your mom to buy along with it, brought even more warmth pooling in your belly as you leaped down the lit-up aisles with your best friend.

Looking back, perhaps that was what sparked your ongoing Christmas obsession. Sure, it didn’t snow that night, but seeing the bright bulbs all around you twinkling like stars in the sky captivated you wholly, wrapping little ten-year-old you in a warm, merry glow. It calmed the impatience for Christmas bubbling inside you by the day, but lit the fire inside you for the awaited day like never before. And best of all, your best friend was right by your side, being pulled into the evening’s embrace with you.

You notice one very important detail in the picture, though, that breaks your bubbling sentimentality, and instead makes you giggle.

“Oh my god, it’s the sweater.”

The fact that the picture was taken at night and the lights added a yellow glare to the photo made it difficult to spot. But one could take a closer look and see that, indeed, Jeongin was sporting that obnoxious purple sweater under his puffy blue coat.

Jeongin lets his hand drop, leaving the frame in yours as he frowns in offense. “Heyyy, it was comfy!”

You stifle another laugh. “Doesn’t change the fact that it was ugly as hell.”

He sneers at you, “Oh please, like you didn’t wear hideous clothes when you were ten!”

You shrug as you pull the frame up to eye level and continue to giggle. “Maybe, but nothing will beat that sweater.”

You lunge out of the way as Jeongin tries to wrap his arms around you and grab the photo from your grasp. However, a giggle escapes your lips as Jeongin’s fingers graze your side, which causes you to jump away from him.

A knowing smirk appears on his face. Your eyes widen.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

Jeongin doesn’t listen to you though, and his hands are already at your sides. Your grip on the photo tightens in an attempt to not drop it as your eyes prickle with tears. Jeongin’s fingers run up and down your sides as he tickles you, and causes a mix of gasps and laughter to escape your throat.

“Jeongin!” You continue to laugh as you try to step away from him.

Jeongin thinks quicker. Instead of torturing you more, though, you’re surprised that he chooses to pull you closer to him instead, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I got you now!” His giggle rings in your ears as he wiggles you like a rag doll. You halfheartedly try to push him away, protesting in between your own giggles.

“Stop itttt, you asshole!”

He seems to listen to you this time, too, and lets you go. However, an evil grin lingers on his face.

You inch back cautiously, keeping a careful watch for his next move. He responds by slowly leaning closer, his smile stretching wider and wider. You slowly move your hands up to your sides to protect yourself from another tickle ambush, a nervous giggle slipping out.

He seems to inch closer and closer to you, and he stops right before your noses can touch, a shit-eating grin on his face. Then he mumbles, flashing his eyebrows:

“Stay for Christmas?”

You groan exasperatedly and lightly push the cheeky boy away from you.

“Oh my god, Jeongin!”

Jeongin breaks out into shy giggles as he steps closer to you, poking you playfully. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from doing the same whilst you try and swat his hands away.

“Come baaaack!” He chuckles after a moment, stepping close enough to wrap his arms around you again.

“Get me out!” You cry out as you try to break free. Your giggly demeanor completely breaks, however, when Jeongin just hugs you closer to him, taking you by surprise one more time.

“No,” you feel him hum through your shoulder, tucking his head in it when you try to step away. “Don’t move.”

You fight and lose to the smile that appears on your face as you wrap your own arms around his shoulders.

You can’t explain how in moments like this, he easily causes your heart to race by doing the littlest things. It makes you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat right now as you’re pressed up against him. If he can, he doesn’t say anything.

“Ahem.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence hanging around you two. You both break away from the hug, keeping your gaze cast downwards as you turn to face Jisung. He had swung the door open at some point and was now leaning coolly against the doorframe as he watches you two.

Seeing you both cower under his gaze seems to amuse him greatly, and a smirk makes its way onto his face. “What was that?” he says, failing to hide the chuckle threatening to spill out.

You stuff your hands in your pockets as you sputter. “It– it’s not what it– we were just–“

“We were just reminiscing, Jisung,” Jeongin grumbles from beside you, his arms crossed over his chest. His cheeks seem to burn red as Jisung grins wider.

You simply nod along with Jeongin. “Yeah, reminiscing. What he said,” you murmur.

“Oh, you keep telling yourself that, baby.” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, which he had seemed to let grow out during his time away.

He lets out a satisfied sigh before he continues. “Ahh, I knew this would happen! It was snowing by the time I got here, so I figured you two were up here together,” he wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, “alone. And you called me crazy!”

You want to roll your eyes at his antics, but you can only chuckle fondly. Sure, it seems like the now-college boy still believes in magic snow, but you have to admit: you did miss hearing him gush about it all the time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “why’d you come up here anyway?” You seize the opportunity to wiggle your eyebrows back at him. “Did you miss us?”

It’s now Jisung’s turn to roll his eyes at you. “Mrs. Yang was looking for you two so she sent me up here,” he says, dodging your question.'' You know the party started already, right?”

Your eyes widen, and you and Jeongin flush in embarrassment again.

“Oh, right,” Jeongin mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he exits the room. “The party.”

You place the framed photo of you two on the foot of Jeongin’s bed before following him out. Jisung holds the door open for you two, his smirk getting cockier by the minute.

The older boy pokes both your and Jeongin’s cheeks as you step out of Jeongin’s room. “For the record, I did miss you two.”

You snort, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair before the three of you make your way downstairs. “I know.”

19 years old.

“You’re cheating!”

Hyunjin’s voice nearly makes your ears ring. He really has no need to be speaking so loud, as you’re literally right next to him.

You grip your controller tighter as he tries to swipe it from you with his hand, and you lean away from him.

“Am not!” You yell back, your eyes focused on the tiny Nintendo Switch screen. “You just suck at this game.”

At the same time as Hyunjin gasps, Felix and Seungmin burst into laughter at your response from the other end of Jisung’s bed. At the corner of your eye, you notice Felix fall to the ground amidst his fit of giggles.

“Just get better, Jinnie,” you quip, a confident smirk tugging at your lips.

Even with Hyunjin trying to swat you like a bug, you still manage to keep your eyes locked on the game. Your chosen character, Toad, remained in first place, and after getting a green shell from a lucky box, you send it backwards, causing Hyunjin’s Princess Daisy to spin out.

He gets passed by multiple NPCs, landing him in 10th place with one lap to go. The way he grumbles and glares at the screen only increases yours and the other two boys’ laughter.

You’ve successfully maintained your first place title as you raced around Moo Moo Meadows. That is, until halfway through the last lap, when a voice pulls your attention from the game.

“Why are only two of you playing?” Jeongin says, entering the room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. At the sound of his voice, you shoot up out of your seat and look at him with a smile.

“Jisung only has two controllers and Felix was dumb and forgot his,” Seungmin snorts, which causes the blonde boy to pout.

“Hey!”

Hyunjin goes silent, his own eyes narrowed on his half of the screen as he slowly creeps up the positions.

“About time you showed up,” you giggle, “thought you weren’t going to come.”

Jeongin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, had a few things to do first, but I’m here now.”

Gasps erupt from Seungmin and Felix, and Hyunjin cries in triumph as he throws his hands and the controller into the air. Your head snaps to the game and your mouth falls open as you find Princess Daisy listed as first place, dancing in her car as she continued around the track—whereas Toad, in your distracted state, had been passed by all of the NPCs and was in dead last, “DNF” flashing on your half of the screen and on your 12th place ranking in the middle.

“You cheated!” You gasp at Hyunjin, throwing yourself back down onto the couch as you mash the ’A’ button.

“Just get better Y/Nie,” Hyunjin remarks as he grins mockingly, using your own words against you.

“You guys did this on purpose,” you huff, glaring at the boy who just ruined your five-game-win streak. “Rematch, now.”

“But it was meant to be our go next!” Felix cries, his pout exaggerated.

“Maybe Hyunjin shouldn’t have cheated!”

“Maybe you should have stayed focused!” Hyunjin fights back.

“Where's Jisung?” Jeongin asks out of the blue, and you motion to the door without saying a word. Jeongin snorts, nodding his head. “Thanks.”

He leaves the four of you in the tiny dorm room to join Jisung wherever he was outside—you assumed the convenience store by the dorm lobby. Your attention gets caught once again when your phone lights up, a message notification greeting you on your lockscreen.

baby: outside :)

you: be right there :)

You chuck the controller to Felix, and he jumps in surprise. “You can play now, I need to go get someone,” you state simply, but the grin on your face seems to give you away.

A single “huh?” escapes Felix’s mouth as the other two boys watch you with curious eyes. Not letting their gaze disturb you, you head to Jisung’s front door.

You open it swiftly to be met with your fairly new boyfriend, Heeseung. you met him after starting college this past semester through a mutual friend, and have been dating for around two months now. you don’t remember what drew you to him in the first place, but one thing is clear—he’s so damn cute.

Your cheeks heat up quickly at the sight of him. His fluffy brown hair was hidden underneath a hat and the bits of his fringe that did stick out fell against his forehead.

“Hey.” you smile, taking a step towards him.

“Hi,” he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist which you reciprocate. “Sorry I’m late.”

“All good,” you hum into his shoulder. “All the boys are here. I’d say they’re not crazy, but I’d be lying.”

You feel Heeseung’s chuckle vibrate through you. “It's fine, you’ve met my friends, how much worse can they be?”

Pulling away slightly so you could look at him, you push your lips into a thin line and feign a concerned look.

“Eh, they’re something, alright,” you drop the fake look, chuckling.

“They finally have those snacks downstairs~!”

Jisung swings the door open, prompting you to turn around. He’s beaming and there’s a bounce in his step as a bag of chips sways in his hand, but it all dissipates into an inquisitive, perhaps even nosy, stance once he sees the boy whose arms are wrapped around you.

“Who's this?” The chestnut-haired boy tilts his head, his eyebrows drawn together.

You can’t help the smile that adorns your face. “Jisung, this is Heeseung, my boyfriend.”

You gesture one hand towards Heeseung himself, and you grin wider as he pulls you closer, nuzzling your nose against his shoulder. When you settle your head against his chest, you look back at Jisung and his jaw is practically on the floor.

“Boyfriend?!”

Oh boy.

Heeseung chuckles again, shyly this time. He glances down at you, unsure of what to say, and you take that as your cue to do most of the talking.

“Yeah?” you affirm with a nod, but your statement sounds more like a question. “Is… is that bad?”

Jisung, still in a shocked state, opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “Oh, no, of course not! I’m happy that you’re happy, it’s just…”

Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at the older boy. “It’s just…?” He repeats, trailing off at the end like Jisung did.

You want so desperately to pretend you don’t know what Jisung meant by that last bit, but the fact that you catch three heads peeking from around Jisung’s bed only seems to prove your suspicions correct. Looks like Seungmin wasn’t exaggerating when he mentioned that “Jisung has told us so much about you!” when you met him and the others an hour ago. From the way Jisung glances fervently between you and the door, though, it’s safe to assume the majority of what he said involved Jeongin in some context.

Maybe you should’ve told them ahead of time the “plus one” you were bringing to the Christmas hangout was, in fact, your boyfriend. In hindsight, it was foolish of you to assume they’d get the memo from the mere mention of “plus one.” And by someone, you meant Jisung—the main man on the “Y/Ninnie train”, as he liked to call it.

Funny enough, you were just following his advice from that winter formal back in high school: date and move on. Sure, it was three years too late, and there wasn’t anything in particular that you needed to move on from, but advice is advice.

Still, you send the flustered boy a stern glare. You were not getting Heeseung involved in his shenanigans if it’s the last thing you do.

But you notice Jeongin stumble in the room, bag of gummy bears in hand, and Jisung’s eyes grow wide. Your voice nearly strangles, but you quickly snap out of it before Heeseung can notice.

“And this is Jeongin,” you gesture to the hooded boy, “my best friend.”

You don’t notice the way Jeongin’s smile falls slightly as his eyes land on you, though your eyes trail after him as he wordlessly shuffles past you two and plops on Jisung’s bed.

Jisung seems to recompose himself, and he steps closer to you and Heeseung, holding out a hand. “Heh, I’m sorry about that,” he laughs nervously, but Heeseung smiles curtly and shakes his hand. “Make yourself at home, we’re happy to have you here.”

“No worries, man.”

Jisung leaves you two alone, but you don’t miss the look he gives Jeongin. It’s full of concern, and you can’t pinpoint why.

Blinking, you shake off the sinking feeling in your chest, and take Heeseung’s hand as you two move to a spot on the floor by Seungmin’s feet, as the bed was all occupied.

Heeseung snakes his arm around your shoulders as you both focus on the tiny console screen. Felix and Hyunjin were on their last lap of Cheep Cheep Beach, neck-in-neck with each other, and you both chuckle at the boys’ chaotic screams as they pass each other back and forth.

You notice throughout the evening that Jeongin will occasionally meet your gaze when you glance his way. Each time, he opens his mouth to speak and there’s this look pooling in his eyes—some mix of longing but urgency that you can’t sense the reason behind. Regardless, your chest tightens at the sight.

You observe Jeongin whisper something to Jisung, ignoring and trying to filter out the screams of the other three boys as they argue over who gets to be Yoshi, but it’s no use.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks softly, the hand around your shoulders gently rubbing your arm.

You gulp but nod, not taking your eyes off of Jeongin but leaning into Heeseung’s side. “Yeah.”

An hour or so passes, and it seems like the awkward glances have only increased in frequency—not just from Jeongin, but between the other boys, too. It eats at you inside not knowing why. All you have gathered so far is that it definitely involves you and Jeongin.

“Hey, Heeseung, is it?'' Felix suddenly pipes up. Both you and Heeseung look up to his spot in the middle of Jisung’s bed, his legs criss-cross applesauce.

“What’s up?” Heeseung responds.

Felix smiles and hands Heeseung his Switch controller. “Wanna play a round? You haven’t had a turn yet.”

A smile of Heeseung’s own forms on his face as he takes the controller in his hands, slowly moving his arm from your shoulders as he hops on the bed. “Oh, bet!”

You’re happy to watch your boyfriend get along with Jisung’s friends as if they were your own—in a way, they kind of are. But one look at Jeongin and all that comes crashing down, seeing the longing look in his eyes.

You still don’t know what’s wrong. Is it because of Heeseung? Does he have some unspoken beef with him? If so, why were all his gazes targeted at you and not him?

Jeongin looks back at Jisung hopelessly, and you attempt to eavesdrop as they whisper amongst themselves. Again, the other boys in the room are too loud for you to get anything useful.

That is, until you glance back at the screen as Seungmin and Heeseung go head-to-head on Rainbow Road, and Jisung scolds Jeongin out of the blue—probably louder than he intended to.

“You need to tell Y/N. Now.”

Your head snaps their direction. Your gaze lands on Jisung for speaking so loud, but slowly shifts to Jeongin. The other boys seem to fall silent, too.

“Tell me what?”

You’re already driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. All you want is an answer.

Jeongin sighs and sits next to you on the floor. You carefully follow his movements with your eyes. He clasps his hands together, resting them on top of his knee. He opens his mouth to speak, and you nod expectantly.

And… nothing.

After a minute of strangled silence, Jeongin sighs in defeat and drags his feet as he shuffles back to Jisung. The older boy gives him a look you can’t quite read and quietly scolds him some more. The other boys just exchange glances with each other and continue to play Mario Kart quietly, making for the worst awkward silence of your life. So much for your first college hangout.

At least you’re able to pick up some information now. You can barely hear Jisung and Jeongin’s hushed whispers even though the room is largely silent, but you do hear the word “college” over and over.

You guess it makes sense. After months of patiently waiting during your senior year of high school, you remembered Jeongin’s dispirited form when he found out he had been waitlisted for his top choice school. Following that, he’s been going to the state university in your city with you, but he mentioned something offhand about re-applying for the spring semester. Maybe he’s stressed about that, but it seems like Jisung has it covered for now.

Still, they both look over at you with those concerned, longing stares, and it’s not hard to miss.

Even after you get another turn on the Switch, you’re still left with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach by the end of the night. Yes, you won another cup and got your sweet, sweet revenge on Hyunjin for earlier, but it does nothing to tell you why Jeongin hasn’t spoken a word to you all night. Well, he tried to, but look how well that went.

It seemed like everyone around you knew except, well, you. You hate that feeling, but at least, whatever it was, Heeseung wasn’t involved. He doesn’t need to be thrown in whatever drama had concocted under your nose, especially not during his first time meeting them all.

By the time the boys start heading out, with Jeongin being the first to go, you’re practically squirming in your spot. You can’t take this anymore.

You give Heeseung a goodbye peck as he slips his coat on and leaves the dorm. “Thanks for inviting me, I had a great time.”

You smile. “I’m glad. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Heeseung nods, leaning down to kiss your cheek once more before exiting the dorm. That left just you and Jisung, and you turn towards the wide-eyed boy the second the door clicks shut.

“Okay, what is going on?” You don’t mean to snap, but your pent-up emotions get the better of you as you storm toward Jisung. “You and Jeongin have been acting weird all night. Actually, all of you have! What the hell, Jisung!”

“Y/N—” Jisung tries to speak, but you cut him off quickly.

“Was it Heeseung? He didn’t even do anything wrong, he was the quietest one here besides Jeongin!”

“Y/N—”

“And you think I’m not gonna notice you and my best friend staring at me like you two just did?” You stop to take a breath, and you feel heat rush to your ears the more you think about this. “How do you think Heeseung felt?! Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“Y/N, listen.”

Jisung’s soft voice makes you step back. It’s the same tone he gave you in the school parking lot when you were sixteen.

“Jeongin got into the school he wanted for spring semester. He’s been trying to tell you for weeks, he— he just didn’t know how. He leaves tomorrow morning.”

You freeze, and your heart sinks to your stomach. It’s like everything around you comes to a stand-still and the world goes deathly silent. All your attempts to speak go unheard as all you do is open and close your mouth, unable to formulate a sentence, let alone a single thought.

A long list of questions fly through your mind at rapid speed. Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t you push him to say something? Why did he not want to tell you when Heeseung was there? Why couldn’t you have just stayed with him instead?

“What?”

You feel Jisung gently place a hand on your shoulder as he frowns. He pulls you in close and wraps his arms around your shoulders. That's when you notice tiny dots dampening his shirt and you finally realize you’re crying.

[go to part two HERE]

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adonis-koo · 2 years

Text

wicked • 12

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 9k

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Note: thank u sm for being patient everyone! I hope you enjoy the chapter bc i definitely did!! :)

Dread filled your entire being as silence thickened in the air, your lips had parted multiple times and yet you could find the will to say a thing.

Your mothers head had been lowered somber as she folded her hands, the news bearing a weight heavier than you would have ever anticipated, “Why…?” You finally rasped out, “Why would they request our presence at the War Meetings?”

It was difficult to believe earlier that day you had been running in the fields with Seokjin, blissfully ignorant to the circumstances that were brewing in the castle. You knew that just because Penumbra had made the request, it didn’t mean anything.

Just that they wanted Eunoia's presence at the meeting but still, just the thought made your chest tighten in fright, they were the reason your country had become a graveyard to so many.

Your mother only shook her head, grabbing your hands tenderly as she sat beside you on your bed, “I do not know my dove,” She ushered softly, “But this is none too surprising to me truthfully.”

Your lips twisted mournfully as you mumbled, “It doesn’t?”

“No,” Your mother offered a sad smile, “We were the ones that shielded their lost nation of Seoul after Kyoto completely purged them. In a sense, I’m sure Penumbra feels as if they can trust us.”

Your lips curled in anger, “We protected them just so they could rise back up and fight with their pride!” You spat out, “And what did they give us in return? Nothing but grief, and death, and- and war.”

Your eyes glossed as you shook your head, unable to even close your eyes without the sight of the burning pilings filling your vision, the last round having been made up of mostly little ones, just the memory had your heart twisting in all kinds of ways.

“All of this, just for the sake of pride?” You whispered out painfully.

Your mother frowned as she shook her head, “Y/n, that isn’t fair to make that assumption of their entire nation just from the royals.”

“It isn’t just the royals,” You replied hotly, “They have an army, those that volunteer themselves to fight for them. For the bloody war.”

She sighed as she lowered her gaze, perhaps in acceptance of your anger, “Many have been affected by the wars over the last five years. Even so, it is our place in Eunoia to treat all with kindness and expect nothing in return. For that is who a Eunoian is.”

She looked at you with a soft yet stern look, “I don’t expect you to have full grasp of this concept yet, it takes time, but I wish you be more kind in your heart to Penumbra, they’ve suffered a lot over the years, it doesn’t make what they’ve done right. But just know many do not have a choice, they have families and children of their own to protect. Kyoto would good and well instigate the war all over again if it meant completely wiping them out had they not started it first.”

You glared down at your knees as your chest puffed a little, knowing she was right. A Eunoian would always be kind and expect no kindness in return but…Truthfully you weren’t sure if you could fully embody that, though you wish you could.

You couldn’t help but feel anger towards Penumbra, yes what they had gone through was horrible, but to instigate a war that did the same to other nations as had been done to them…? The lines were so blurred, you didn’t know anymore.

You didn’t want to know.

Your mother tenderly brushed her hand across your cheek, wiping away the tears of anger that had begun trailing down your cheekbones, “Life will never be simple Y/n,” She frowned, as if pained to see you in pain, “I just hope one day the Dryads will grant you the clarity to be able to navigate it.”

And with this she quietly exited the room as you shook your head, letting the tears continue to trail down your cheeks as you sniffled. The door opened once more to your surprise as Seokjin came in, worry in his eyes as you lowered your gaze once more.

“Don’t worry my love,” Seokjin ushered out as he kneeled in front of you, “Things will work out in our favor.”

You smiled mirthlessly, “You seem to have a lot of faith in that.”

“And you should as well, Eunoia being in the War Room council will change nothing, Penumbra are all criminals and they will die the death they deserve.” Seokjin replied, his eyes brewing with determination as he held your hands, “I don’t want our children to live in a world where Penumbra exists. I’ll burn every last bit of their land if it means protecting our future.”

You wept softly as you shook your head, “Perhaps, but I fear the change that is happening can’t be stopped.”

Seokjin gave you a comforting smile, “Have you met me darling? I could bring even change itself to its knees.”

This made a weak smile tug on your lips as you replied, “I hope you’re right.”

It had been hours since what had happened, and yet you still found your body shuddering occasionally as your breath would tremble and every time you’d close your eyes, you would find yourself back in Eunoia, when the bells would ring every Friday late evening when the bodies would be burned.

You briefly wondered what had made you even think of the memory of when you found out Penumbra had requested Eunoia during the War Room council, back before the rite of peace had been made.

Perhaps because back then you were young and naïve, and most definitely thought you’d never be in this position with the supposed Wicked Prince…

You shifted a little, causing the water to ripple at your movement, your eyes followed the ripple before it stopped at the sight of skin, before they immediately darted away and you could feel your face flush with heat.

And maybe it was just you, but you were positive it wasn’t from the hot water.

Jungkook had been bathing by himself after you had been settled into bed, having refused to talk but had managed to get dressed in your nightwear on your own and had for the most part calm down.

He had been relaxed in the water with his eyes shut when…You weren’t even sure what possessed you, his back had faced you but…the water looked inviting and you could see the steam wafting off of it and the chill in your bones hadn’t been melted.

So, you did something that you normally wouldn’t do- the norm it seemed these days, and had managed to undress yourself before stepping into the tub. Your only saving grace at the moment was that you were at least able to bath since Taehyung had begun using a heat repellent with your wrappings for your injuries. It allowed you to bathe but you still wouldn’t be allowed in for more then a half an hour at most.

Jungkook hadn’t opened his eyes but you had watched the muscles on his arms tense a little at the sound of rippling water and the unmistakable splash you had made as you sat down and eventually he had opened his eyes to look at you.

Your knees had since been tugged into your chest, letting the hot water melt away any fear and cold that had clung to you since this early evening. You took a deep breath, but your breath still shuddered no matter how hard you tried to keep it even.

You and Jungkook hadn’t spoken since he had taken you back to the castle and for a while he had just held you, saying no more before you eventually murmured that you could get changed. But now he was staring at you, his eyes a little lidded- perhaps from exhaustion, and you could see it.

He was tired.

But it looked like something was bothering him. Your lips trembled a little as you took another deep breath but to no avail, your breath still hadn’t gone completely back to normal. This caused a sigh to escape Jungkook’s lips.

What you hadn’t expected was for him to reach out to you, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly, “For what it’s worth, I tried to stop them…I’m sorry.” A dull ache throbbed in your chest and just like that your eyes were watering again.

A sniffle escaped you as you closed your eyes, warm wet tears began to slowly trickle down your cheeks as you openly let yourself lean into the touch of his hand, bigger than your cheek easily and you could feel the callouses that had formed on his skin from years ago.

His thumb brushed away any stray tears as you sniffled once more, scooting a little closer to him as your hands grabbed onto his own, snuggling it close to your cheek though you still kept a respectable distance from him.

Truthfully had this been any other situation you would’ve fully climbed into his embrace, but well…given you both were naked, you figured it wouldn’t be appropriate.

“Ever since we deforested the Western woods during the war we’ve had influxes like this,” Jungkook ushered quietly, “I had advised against it but my father wouldn’t have it…I had hoped we could lead it back to the northern woods where it would be safe when I saw you but Seohyun…” He shook his head, “I’m sorry.”

You tried desperately to not let your lips quiver but it was useless, your eyes squeezed shut and just the memory kept a dull ache alive in your chest, “It was just afraid.” You whispered, squeezing his hand once more before you shut your eyes, the feeling of warm tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I know.”

It was silent once more and the fire filled the void with it’s soft crackles that kept the cool air at bay, Jungkook’s hand had eventually slipped from your cheek before he sighed, shifting in the water before he asked, “Are you ready to get out?” as if sensing your feelings.

You gave a small nod as you sniffled.

Junkook only gave a short nod before he stood up from the water, your eyes immediately averted and your face felt warmer than you remembered.

Despite your tear stained cheeks, you still felt embarrassed at the sight of seeing your husband naked, even just the brief sight of muscular thighs had your heart rate picking up.

He wrapped the towel around his waist as he unfolded another one, “Alright stand up.”

You shuffled a little in your spot still curled up, knowing in order to dry off you needed to get out but...Well you didn’t think this far ahead if you were being truthful, he hadn’t even invited you to bath with him.

Briefly, worry began to creep into your chest, hoping you hadn’t crossed any boundaries with him by doing so, but seeing as he was holding up a towel- with an admittedly patient- yet slightly exasperated expression, made you feel that perhaps, you hadn’t done anything as such.

“Don’t be so pouty,” Jungkook chided, yet his tone was oddly soft, “I’m not gonna look at anything I don’t have permission to. Stand up before the water gets cold.”

Jungkook’s lips curled into a tiny reserved smile as yours lips jutted out further before you reluctantly stood up, your body immediately cold and feeling exposed but true to his words the towel blocked off his vision that he had politely kept up the towel before wrapping you up, letting you use his shoulders to balance as you wobbled a little to step out.

After a brief moment you suddenly realized how close you both were when you looked up at him, his hair wet and dripping with water as your hands kept hold close to his neck. It was silent for a long moment as you looked up at him. After a brief moment you suddenly realized how close you both were when you looked up at him, his hair wet and dripping with water as your hands kept hold close to his neck.

It was silent for a long moment as you looked up at him.

His hands seemed to tighten just a little on your waist, bunching the fabric of the towel and you could feel your cheeks beginning to throb as you finally broke eye contact mumbling, “I’m sorry…”

“For what?” Jungkook had cleared his throat a little, straightening back up and you noticed the way his finger’s seemed to fidget a little against the hem of the towel near your breasts as he tucked the side piece in.

You stared down at his chest, having not meant to stare yet you couldn’t help it, your eyes trace against the various marks and scars that littered his body, and then of course the chiseled well trained muscles that adorned so many scars.

“...everything.” You ushered softly with a shrug.

You could hear Jungkook puff a breath as if in amusement of your words but before you could even get the chance to ask why he had suddenly leaned down scooping you up like you were nothing more than a paper weight making you flail.

“Jungkook!” You shrieked as you curled up against him, your face feeling even hotter than before at how warm his skin was against yours and not only this but his entire upper body was naked- in fact he was naked if not for the two pieces of cloth separating you both.

He snickered at your reaction before placing you in the seat in front of the fire that was admittedly warm.

His expression melted into something that looked like content as he kneeled down in front of you, “Stop apologizing.”

This made your lips jut further, “...sorry.”

“Stop”

This one came out more reprimanding then the last and it made a small smile curl on your lips as he stood up before walking away briefly.

The one thing you appreciated about his room was the fireplace in it that was almost always going at night leaving it much warmer in comparison to yours or any other room.

You curled your legs against your chest as you huddled towards the fire to keep warm, you could hear a soft rustle behind you before Jungkook reappeared within a few moments, now dressed in a pair of loose trousers but still topless as he unfolded a new towel, kneeling down as he reached out drying your hair off as your lips jutted into a pout at how he wasn’t being gentle.

“Ow…!” You mumbled with a whine as your body wobbled against his rough grip as he placed

the towel over your head, pausing as his eyes gazed over your face before he snorted suddenly, a smile curling on his lips as you glared with a sulk at him.

He shook his head as he pulled the towel from your head, “Here, this was all I could find, I don’t know how Wheein sorts your wardrobe, so…” He stood up as he tossed the folded closes into your lap making you jump a little.

“You could be a little more gentle!” You whined out not responding to his words as he stretched up ignoring you as always as he walked away.

Your brows furrowed as you inspected the folded...shirt? But as you inspected the small material- much to your horror it was possibly the shortest night gown you had ever seen in your life.

This would not be that big of a deal if you were back in Eunoia, due to the warm nights, sleepwear was always loose and short, but you were married now! Your lips twisted into a pout as you stared down at the slip.

Somewhat in anger because if you hadn’t let Seokjin convince you into wearing more world traditional dresses and yourself consciousness nagging your mind, you probably wouldn’t have thought twice about putting this on.

You inhaled sharply., trying to calm your embarrassment as you called out, “You don’t actually expect me to wear this do you?”

You could have sworn you heard a quiet snicker from Jungkook before he spoke, “If you want to go hunt down Wheein, be my guest. Or you could go dig through all of your clothes yourself. But that’s all I could find, princess.”

You kicked your legs as you sighed before looking behind you sharply.

Jungkook was sat up on the bed with his back against the bedframe, arms loosely crossed and his eyes on your chair, it wasn’t as if he could see you to begin with but it was still making you warm in a lot of ways you were not familiar with, “Well?” He raised a brow, his lips curling into that wicked smile on his as he asked.

“You’re unbelievable!” You cried out, turning back around in your chair as you huffed, damn him! Damn him because he was absolutely right, you weren’t about to leave this room tonight and you certainly weren’t about to disrupt Wheein in the middle of the night especially after you dismissed her!

Straightening up you unwrapped the towel from yourself before pulling the dress over your head, it was odd, because while it felt foreign, a distant part of yourself relished in the comfort the flowy loose material gave you.

The material brushed just at your mid thigh making you smile, this was the same length as your sleepwear before you had been married. Maybe…maybe you had just overreacted, true you weren’t used to having a bed partner but well…It couldn’t be all that bad, could it?

Yes, after all you were married, it wasn’t as if any of this was actually scandalous in nature.

Slipping the panties up you stood up to pull them up all the way not meaning to flash your husband but you felt incredibly indignant when you heard a whistle from him making you immediately turn around, your face burning up as you glared at him, “Just because we’re married doesn’t give you the right to just....! Just…! Stare!”

Jungkook lifted his hands up as he chuckled at your flusteredness, tugging at the slip self consciously, just how did you wear such short and loose clothing all the time without feeling so self conscious before?

You thought about it briefly but you supposed it was just because it was Eunoia, people didn’t look at you…at all when you wore something of this nature there, because it wasn’t seen as anything but normal.

And yet somehow, you had never felt so exposed in front of a man before and you never imagined it would be like this...let alone in front of a man like this...husband or not you had remembered swearing on your wedding day that you’d never sleep with him.

Oh the irony.

“But if you didn’t want me too you would’ve said otherwise,” Jungkook shrugged casually as he yawned a sudden laugh erupting from his lips as if something occurred to him that seemed hilarious, “Nice ass by the way princess.”

“Oh!” You stomped your foot trying to ignore your heart pounding out of your chest and your body fluttering in…Ugh! You hated the excitement that his stupid voice made you feel.

It was even worse because Jungkook could clearly tell he was doing something to you, making him laugh even harder, obviously that was what had made him laugh in the first place…!

“Instead of pouting and just standing there expecting something besides crude humor from me you should just get in bed,” Jungkook sighed as he smiled, his eyes crinkled a little as he watched you, with wrapped arms around yourself as you walked awkwardly to the other side of the bed.

You sat down before snatching the duvet, covering your legs as you puffed a breath, “I don’t know why it even bothers me, in Eunoia we always wore things of this nature.”

You slumped a little as you tugged the covers further up to tops of your thighs, Jungkook yawned as he nodded, closing his eyes, “Hm I did notice that when we came to Eunoia. But you weren’t dressed like the others.”

You shuffled a little closer to him as you stared down at your hand wrappings, “Well I did once upon a time but…Well, I was told…” You hesitated, “That I would be looked at differently outside of Eunoia if I ever wore any of our more traditional style of wear.”

Jungkook opened his eyes, a frown on his face, “Looked at differently? Who told you that? Your mother? Because she…” He tucked his tongue into his cheek, raising his brows a little as if thinking your mother was…!

You smacked his arm with your wrist making a small smile tug on his lips, “No it…” You sighed as you shook your head, “Well, it doesn’t matter now, he was right after all. I was unaware at the time that the world just doesn’t work the same way Eunoia does. I never realized how lucky I was to live my life there, to be in a kingdom that doesn’t degrade me to nothing more than a vessel for…men to use, I suppose.”

This made Jungkook frown but not for the reason you first thought, “Ah, it was him huh.”

This made you do a double take, somewhat surprised at his words, “...What does that mean?” You shied away from his gaze, knowing full well who he was talking about, but it seemed like whenever Seokjin got brought up, it never ended well for you two…

Jungkook looked at you for a long moment before he sighed, “Seokjin of Kimhae,” He shook his head, as if the very name made him glare at his hands in disdain, “Out of everyone, it had to be him…”

He sighed wistfully making you frown as you fiddled with your bandages, “Jungkook…why do you not like Seokjin? He…” Your eyes softened a little, “He had his faults, for sure but, well I did love him once upon a time.”

Jungkook seemed to mull over your words for a long while, not saying anything as if he were evaluating just what to say, “...Seokjin is not who he pretends to be,” Was all he said, “He’s boastful and arrogant, he often peacocked around us, acting as if he was above me and my country. As if I was some scum of the earth that deserved death simply for being born.”

Jungkook’s eyes burned into his hands, “Truthfully I didn’t care for the longest time, people’s words rarely bother me…” His lips curled into a bitter smile, “But knowing he was your lover…?”

Jungkook’s lip twitched, “Knowing who he is, and that he tried to sink his teeth into you…” He inhaled sharply.

“He didn’t-”

“But he did,” Jungkook cut you off sharply as he gestured towards your slip, “You just told me you were convinced to not wear your own country's attire. You didn’t have to say his name for me to know it was him who told you to do so.”

You relented with a sigh, shaking your head softly, “That was my choice in the end, I won’t let anyone else take the blame for my choices….I do suppose however…” It felt tough to swallow but you couldn’t deny the merit of his words, “That you are right, Seokjin tried to persuade me on a lot of things, and because I loved him, I wanted to please him. I think it’s only natural…Or I suppose I thought I loved him.”

Jungkook’s gaze only briefly flickered to yours as he murmured, “You thought?”

This made you smile softly as you nodded, “Well of course, he was my first love, my only love. So it’s all I ever knew, but the more I look back, the more I come to terms with the idea that me and him…I don’t know,” You ushered softly, “Perhaps things happened the way they were meant to be.”

Sleep had come surprisingly easy, having such an emotionally taxing day…Well you weren’t surprised yourself, your entire body felt lethargic and tired and you had sleepily woken up a long while ago yet kept your eyes shut, enjoying the distant chirp of birds despite the cloudy day staving the sun away.

A hand brushed against your lower back, closer to your hip then you anticipated, but something about the touch made your body further relax.

A content wiggle escaped you as you sighed, unconsciousness tugging at you to let yourself fall back asleep as you shifted against once more against Jungkook who seemed to make a noise of possible complaint.

“Stop that…” you could hardly make out his mumbled words, riddled with sleep.

This made your lips curl a little as you felt his arm fully wrap around you, his hand now curled around your waist and you could feel the bare skin of your thighs brushing along the fabric of his pants, somewhere last night your slip must’ve lifted up, but currently you weren’t going to stress over it, especially since you were covered up with a blanket.

And it was so warm under its cozy covers, you nudged the crook of his neck a little, trying to hide your smile as you shifted one last time to situate yourself.

“Ugh Princess fuck.”

You nearly squeaked out at your hips having gotten too close to his and rather than getting comfortable to nap once more, you found something thick and hard that was dangerously close to your cunt, panicked arousal was already clinging to your panties as you jolted, “I…! I’m- I'm sorry! I didn’t mean too…!”

You could feel your face throb as your eyes met Jungkook’s, he was laid on his back and his eyes had cracked open as he yawned almost too casually, “It’s not your fault I was already hard before you woke up anyways. Just maybe don’t do…that.” He sighed.

But despite his words Jungkook’s hands had a firm grip on your waist now, not about to let you get any further away from him then you already had as you somewhat propped yourself up in disbelief.

“What!? How-…?” You stared at him in silent demand and somewhat confused. How could he be…? Before you were even awake?

Jungkook stared up at you for what felt like forever, but slowly you watched his lips curve just a little, a smirk adorning his lips and his eyes were lidded as he puffed a breath of amusement, “Were you not taught male anatomy?”

You could feel your cheeks rush with blood that made them throb as your eyes twisted into an embarrassed glare, “Of course I wasn’t! What kind of question is that?”

What you hadn’t realized was the now somewhat compromising position you put yourself in, your lower body straddling his abdominal and your hands resting on his chest, not fully aware your thighs were completely exposed and your breasts were almost spilling out of your slip.

Jungkook let out a sigh that suspiciously sounded almost like a moan as he closed his eyes, “You gotta stop staring at me like that princess.”

“Like what?” Your lips tugged into a sulky pout, now feeling flustered that you should be less naive about these things, but you couldn’t help it…! You never went as far as to let Seokjin stay in your room at night when he came to visit in Eunoia. How were you supposed to know that this…happened naturally…?

You jolted at Jungkook’s hand suddenly grabbing your chin, forcing you closer to him as you grabbed his chest once more to catch yourself, Jungkook’s lips curled into a more wicked smirk this time as he whispered, “Like you wanna fuck me.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

He knew how you’d react but watching how flustered it made you had him gagging out laughing as you managed to grab a pillow to smack him with, “How dare you!” Albeit your blows were weak as you struggled to properly grip the pillow in sake of not disturbing your wounds which were already beginning to throb in irritation.

Jungkook grabbed the pillow from you making you tumble back against him, but now you were acutely aware of the position you were in, fumbling as you spoke flustered, “Jungkook…” This time however, your voice wasn’t nearly as strong as it was, something stirring in your stomach at the way he kept wolfishly staring at you.

As if amused, as if aroused.

It was making your hands tremble and an ache throb between your legs, just the embarrassment alone at that feeling that was slowly becoming all too familiar made it difficult to even hold Jungkook’s gaze.

Jungkook’s hand squeezed around your chin tightly, forcefully turning your head to whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling against your skin, “Hmm, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you find this attractive.”

It had your hands coiling around his shirt helplessly as you tried to not let yourself get any more flustered from his aggressiveness.

“What would give you that impression?” You gritted your teeth but your words hardly came out like a bite.

“Where do you want me to start?” Jungkook replied right back.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were the one who finds this attractive.” You glared at him but you were aware your expression looked anything but menacing, you could barely hold yourself together when he was holding you against him like this.

Jungkook stared at you for a long moment, some of his aggressive motions seemed to loosen a little before a lazy smirk tugged back on his lips, “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to know princess?”

If you weren’t flustered before you certainly were now, unable to escape his grip on your hips you did the only thing you could, collapse back down against him, hiding away against his neck where you could feel his laugh escape.

“Stop…! This is hardly appropriate, can’t you just make it go away…?” Your voice came out like a sulky whine, trying to ignore how hot your body had suddenly began burning.

This made Jungkook snort, “We’re married, I don’t think anything we could do would be considered scandalous…Hm…I can make it go away but I don’t know if you’d like what that would entail.”

“What’s that supposed to- Ah…!” Your original thought was cut off into a quiet moan as Jungkook’s hand tangled into your hair, grabbing a thick chunk as he gave it a slight pull, an almost pleasant feeling being sent straight to your cunt as he whispered in your ear.

“Or maybe you would. Ugh, fuck I can feel how much your thigh’s are clenching, if you want it to go away you’re more then happy to help.”

“I’m just fine!” You squeaked out at how forward he was suddenly being, you couldn’t even fully comprehend how you got yourself into this position. Not that it was a bad one but…Well you certainly hadn’t foreseen this happening.

“Oh? You didn’t seem to mind helping Seokjin?” Jungkook’s voice came out like a taunt and you could feel his hips jut upward in a seeking thrust, “How is this any different hm? Go on, I’m waiting.”

He was being so mean…!

You whined out almost pathetically at how harsh your cheeks were throbbing and your body was burning up and an embarrassing amount of arousal clung to your panties as you cried out against his skin, “Everything is different with you! It’s- It’s not the same at all..!”

Your face felt incredibly hot and a shameful small moan escaped your lips at his hands grabbing your hips, pulling them back down against his, you could feel his cock throbbing almost painfully, confined in his pants.

Your mind was becoming hazy and filled with the only thing you could describe was lust.

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t be,” Jungkook almost growled out, his fingers digging into your skin, “After all, he was the one making sure everyone knew how well you treated him.”

“He- ah..! He wouldn’t…” You whimpered at your hips finally caving in, grinding down against his thick bulge, pleasure spiking in your body making a whined moan escape you, “Jungkook…!” You mumbled pathetically against him.

Your entire body felt weak and your hands were shaking from all the nervous energy that was coursing through your body, you were really doing this right now…?

“Fuck, good girl.” Jungkook moaned softly, his hands encouraging your movement and just that singular word had your body frantically rutting against his. Your forehead was pressed into his shoulder and your lips were parted at the spikes of pleasure that came in waves at the friction that throbbed against your cunt.

“Mmph! Jungkook…Ah…” Your voice was broken and whimpered as your hands curled into fists against his chest, your legs trembling at the feeling of your cunt soaking arousal through your panties, beginning to make a mess on his thick heady imprint, “Please…!”

“Please what?” Jungkook had a wicked smile on his face as he grabbed at your hair once more, giving it a soft yank to expose your neck to him, his tongue dragging hotly against your skin before he ushered a moan against it, “What do you want princess? Go on, look me in the eyes and tell me what you want.”

You rapidly shook your head at the sight of those icy blue eyes meeting yours, your entire body lit on fire at your head barely being lifted from the hazy cloud it had been buried in at the realization of just what you were doing right now and the possible repercussions it could have on your relationship with Jungkook.

And with that realization the stark reality had come back to haunt you, a sudden uncomfortable feeling sunk into your stomach and panic rose in your chest, “What’s wrong?” You hadn’t even realized tears had begun to blur your vision until Jungkook appeared almost alarmed.

Immediately sitting up as he took hold of you in a gentle grasp and if you didn’t feel embarrassed before you certainly did now, embarrassed and stupid.

You couldn’t even look at him as you grasped your face trying to stop from letting tears drip down your cheeks as you struggled to let air into your lungs, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Jungkook almost demanded, his hands grabbing at your wrists though he didn’t pull them away from your face.

You shook your head as your lips quivered, feeling stupider by the minute as he asked, “Why are you crying?”

“It’s stupid…” You ushered out timidly as you shook your head.

You could hear Jungkook sigh, his hands softening on your wrists as he spoke, “It’s not if you’re crying.”

It was silent for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts, hesitantly lowering your hands from your face as you peered at him timidly before your gaze dropped, “I…We’ve worked so hard to get to this point, to make this work. I don’t want to lose your interest now if I…if we…”

Jungkook stared at you blankly for a long moment before he spoke, almost confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You groaned with a pout, eyes still watering as you spoke, “I- I- If we….you won’t…”

Jungkook sighed through his nose as he rubbed his face, “If we have sex that won’t change a single thing Y/n.” He puffed a breath almost amused as he looked up at your worried eyes, “I don’t view you as some kind of conquest- I would never view you that way.” He reached out, thumbing a tear that rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes.

His words were sweet and yet you somehow felt even worse, “..’m sorry, I ruined the moment-”

“Stop,” Jungkook chided you, his eyes now reprimanding, “What did I say about all of these apologies? You didn’t ruin anything, I don’t want you in any way if you aren’t completely comfortable with it. And I don’t have any expectations of this in the future unless you want it.”

You ushered a cry softly as Jungkook sighed in exasperation, looking mildly awkward as he ran a hand through his ruffled hair, “...You can’t keep doing this to me.” He mumbled.

You rubbed the tears from your eyes as you murmured, “Do what?”

“This.” Jungkook gestured at your face- or presumably your tears, he looked awkward as he sighed once more, “I don’t know what else to do other than tell you I…” His nose wrinkled, “...Don’t mind your company, clearly. But I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with if you think it’ll keep my attention. You already have it. But I also don’t want you to stop yourself from doing something you want, in fear of messing up.”

“But…!” Your lips jutted, “It’s easy for you to say that! You’re not the one that has to deal with your anger! That isn’t…I would like to avoid that if possible.”

This made Jungkook snort in amusement, “Well princess, I’m the one who has to deal with your anger, which is just as unpleasant. But we’ve dealt with one another like this from the day we met. Messing up is a part of getting to know one another. And truthfully I think this would be far from messing up.”

He had that stupid small boyish smile of his on his face that made you look away somewhat bashfully as you gave him a gentle shove, “...You don’t think so..? That this…wouldn’t be a bad thing?”

“Why would it?” Jungkook asked, and he looked genuinely confused, “You’re my wife.”

The sentence made something flutter in your stomach, the way Jungkook said it so naturally, as if there wasn’t even the slightest hesitation in his voice, as if it was always meant to be this way.

His confidence gave you confidence that, perhaps he was right about this.

You shifted a little in his lap before you shrugged, “Just because we’re married doesn’t mean anything.”

“No,” Jungkook hummed in thought and if you listened closely, you could hear the slightest hesitation in his voice, “But that doesn’t mean it can’t.”

His words were ushered out softly, nothing more than a whisper and his eyes locked onto the door, as if worried someone could possibly hear you both in this moment. There was a certain shyness in the air now and neither of you could look the other in the eye anymore.

And in timely fashion, a knock on the door nearly made you jump out of your skin, fumbling off his lap as you could hear Wheein on the other side asking for permission to come in. That was right, today was a new day after all.

And yet you couldn’t help but want to focus on a presence that was quickly slipping through your fingers.

Just because you were married, didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t…

“Are you certain of this Jungkook?” The question came from Namjoon.

There was a silence that permeated in the air as Jungkook sunk into his seat, all of his closest friends and what he considered family huddled up in his former handlers’ study.

“I’m not,” Jungkook admitted, a frown on his lips as he shook his head, “But I can’t overlook the possibility that we may have a traitor amidst the court. It would have to be someone inconspicuous though. I can’t bring this to my family’s attention yet, not until we have solid proof.”

“Where would we even start with something like this though?” Jimin frowned as he chimed in, “We can’t just go interrogating royals, and poking around any bedrooms will have us in the dungeon.”

“Is it possible we could service some of the maids then?” Hoseok replied, “Wheein would be able to scour any rooms of possible suspects, no questions asked.”

Jungkook had leaned back in his seat, a hand on his chin in thought as he shook his head, “It would still be too risky to involve anyone on the outside. If word got out about a possible traitor amongst the court everyone would be in an uproar. Wheein wouldn’t say anything but that doesn’t change the fact that maids talk.”

The idea made Jungkook sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, “And it would be too big of a task to ask her to do it by herself regardless.”

“Not to mention the Princess has been granting her extra time off to attend her ailing mother, I don’t know if she would be able to take on the extra responsibility.” Taehyung spoke up.

This however caused Jungkook to shift a little, extra time off…? “What?” He spoke, his gaze narrowing on Taehyung in question.

This made Taehyung tilt his head in curiosity as he explained, “Yes, the Princess has been very kind in allowing Wheein to tend to her mother during some of her hours she was supposed to attend the Princess.”

This made Jungkook frown immediately his gaze dropping to the table with a troubled look, it wasn’t that he was upset by what you had done, the very opposite in fact, he took pleasure in knowing you were being kind and tender to your personal maid. But…well with the looming threat of someone wanting you dead…

Jungkook would never admit it out loud but he had taken comfort in knowing that whenever he wasn’t with you during the day, that Wheein was at your side, if he could trust anyone with a sword, it would be her.

Of course he hadn’t given her any formal instruction to keep you safe but…well he felt he didn’t need too, he saw the way you both interacted, he knew Wheein would do so on her own accord but…This information was troubling for him. Because if she wasn’t with you, that meant you were alone, for presumably long hours.

“Is something troubling you Sire?” Namjoon frowned as he asked, glancing at Jungkook across the table.

“Yes,” Jungkook admitted, “If Wheein is tending to her mother then that mean’s Y/n is alone during the day and this…” He sighed, “If I could have it my way I’d want either Jimin or Hoseok with her during the day but I cannot afford to have either of you on the sidelines right now. But I don’t know who else I could trust with keeping her safe.”

It was silent for a long moment before Jimin suddenly perked up, “Oh…! Yoongi should be back from his tour soon! Perhaps we could fill him in on the details when he arrives, I’m sure he’d be happy to finally relax and accompany the Princess during the day.”

Jungkook seemed to perk a little at this as well, tilting his head a little, “Really? I thought he wasn't going to come back until next Spring?”

“The stirring on the west has caused the expansion to come to a halt,” Hoseok frowned in thought, “That’s probably why he’s coming back early.”

Jungkook frowned at this, yes that was right, scouts had detected a stir in activity from Prokofiev and this was part of the reason his aunt was back home as well. Something just didn’t sit right with him though, about all of this.

“Very well.” Jungkook replied, “I’ll speak with him myself when he arrives then, when is his estimated arrival date then?”

“Within the next two weeks.” Jimin replied, “If that’s taken care of then, perhaps we should move on to the more…unsavory news…” He glanced at Hoseok who also sighed at this.

This made Jungkook frown as well, “What of it?”

“There was a breach in the southern border.” Hoseok said.

This made Jungkook nearly jolt in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he asked, “A breach? By whom?”

“One of our own,” Hoseok sighed, slumping in his chair as if a memory was plaguing him, “I went to investigate myself and they said it was likely one of the squire’s from the knighthood. Which means…”

“Our assassin has taken his leave.” Jungkook’s lips twitched in anger as his fists curled, inhaling sharply, “That we know of right now.” He shook his head but anger simmered in his veins, “It doesn’t matter anymore,” He growled, “I want to know who sent him. Because if we can’t figure out who it is, they’ll only hire more assassins to do their bidding, and until then Y/n won’t be safe.”

“If I may Sire,” Taehyung gestured as Jungkook nodded, “Perhaps we’re looking in the wrong place. It may be a royal but…” He faltered for a second, “I fear it may be someone in an even bigger position than that.”

“An outside influence?” Namjoon asked as he tilted his head.

“Perhaps,” Taehyung replied as he shook his head, “I can’t describe it but…I feel very strongly the presence of a much darker force at play here then we can understand.”

Jungkook glanced at the table in thought for a moment before he spoke, “We’ll start with the postal system first, I doubt any plots of murder would be on paper but perhaps we can narrow down a group, or person first to begin the hunt. This can’t be the doing of just one person, something bigger is at play right now.”

The thought made Jungkook’s lips twitched, “And I intend to win. You’re all excused, do not let this take up your entire day, you all still have daily duties to attend to as do I. Be discreet, we’ll all meet back here by the end of the week to report out findings.”

“Good because I need to attend to the Princess now,” Taehyung ushered as he glanced at the clock, realizing he was bordering late to his morning routine.

Jungkook nodded, waving him away as he opened the door to find his servant Taehyun about to knock, “...Yes?”

“Um...” Taehyun frowned, “We were disposing of the Ashe Wolf like you asked us too but...we ran into a problem and well...I thought it would be best to just let you come take a look for yourself.”

Jungkook sighed at this, rubbing his face but gestured his servant to lead the way, it was difficult to believe daily duties still existed in times as troubling as these.

“Your hands are healing nicely,” Taehyung hummed out, a pleasant smile on his face and he was indeed right, your hands had come a long way since the accident had first happened.

You glanced down at them right a brief smile before it slowly faded, your stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of scarring that was beginning to form in place of your skin.

You cleared your throat a little, a weak smile tugging on your face as you asked, “Does this mean I’ll be able to start my training once more.”

“Soon yes,” Taehyung nodded, “I still need to speak with the Prince about it. But I expect you to be able to as early as next week.” ‘

Finally, good news was in the air as you relaxed a little with a nod, letting him finish wrapping your bandages before he took his leave. Wheein had just re-entered the room from an errand she had to run for him, handing him over a satchel before he nodded and exited the room.

“How’s your mother Wheein?” You asked out softly.

Wheein offered a small smile of gratitude, “Better, she’s still very weak, but better. I can’t thank you enough for allowing Taehyung to help m’lady.”

You folded your hands into your lap as you shook your head, “There’s no need for so much thanking, I’d do it again in a heartbeat if needed. Please do what you need to in the meantime to aid her health.”

Wheein had been continuously thanking you for what you did, but truthfully you felt as if it was the least you could do for her given how patient and sweet she had been to you since the beginning of your stay in Penumbra.

Wheein only nodded once more thankful for your kindness before she began to get you dressed, “Oh…! The prince caught me on the way back to the castle, he asked for me to escort you to the stables.”

You tilted your head curiously, glancing at Wheein through the mirror as you asked, “Is…Is that allowed? I mean…” You sighed, “I suppose if it was by his request it is but…” Well tension was still lingering since the assassination attempt.

Jungkook had left earlier than you which you could only assume he must have gone to meet with the others about the whole ordeal, the entire event may have felt like it had been long ago, but it was still fresh in your mind and everyone was still on high alert.

“If you’re safe with anyone, it would surely be the Prince.” Wheein gave you a small smile as she finished the final touches of your wardrobe, “Speaking of…” A more mischievous look twisted on her face, “That was an awfully short nightgown to be wearing last night.”

You sucked in a harsh breath of air, trying to not let the flustered expression show on your face but it was too late, Wheein was covering her giggles as you spoke, “Was it him? Did he specifically get a nightgown tailored for me?”

Wheein grinned at this as she shook her head, “No actually, I believe that was from your original wardrobe when you first came to Penumbra. You had never requested to wear it though so I had just kept it in the back of your closet for safe keeping. It must’ve accidentally gotten tangled up in the bunch when I was going through to pack for your stay in here.”

You chewed on your lip before you admitted, “It did seem familiar, I haven’t worn it in ages though. I almost forgot what it was like,” You let out a brief smile, “Still though,” A pout tugged on your lips, “He didn’t let go of the chance to tease me about it.”

This made Wheein smile once more, “A good sort I hope?”

You mulled over her words, a more shy smile tugging on your lips as you glanced at your lap with a shrug, “I suppose it is.”

It was actually rather nice being able to take a walk outside the castle for once, it was a rather sunny day though clouds scattered the sky looking gray meaning rain would surely make its return as the day went on.

Stepping outside the gates of the castle felt…forbidden almost, you looked around hesitantly as Wheein led the way happily, but her eyes were sharp, as if enjoying the sunshine but still vigilant as ever.

The stables were just a little further from the guardsman quarters and soon enough she guided you over, you could already see Jungkook inside, hauling a bale of hay over what looked like some sort of makeshift pen.

“I have other duties to attend so I’ll leave you to attend with the Prince if that’s okay…” Wheein peered at you, hands folded as if truly making sure you would be okay with that.

You offered a small smile, “Of course, don’t let me keep you.” You waved her off as you stepped inside the stables, your voice drawing Jungkook’s attention.

And you noticed the smallest thing, his eyes which had been previously squinted in that broody look he always wore, seemed to almost melt away immediately, his eyes brightening a little at the sight of you and his expression seemed to perk, just the slightest.

To the untrained eye, it may have gone unnoticed, but not for you.

This made a smile you couldn’t resist tug on your lips, “Rather bold of you to let me come outside the castle gates. I’m surprised.”

This made Jungkook snort, “We’re a short distance from the gates…” But he stopped short as his expression dimmed a little as he sighed, “...I’ll tell you more of the details later but I don’t think we’ll need to be as worried about any future assassinations as we have been.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head with a frown, now wondering why he wouldn’t just tell you now.

“I didn’t call you here to discuss that though, this…” Jungkook looked away from you with an exasperated sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck and dare you say he…almost seemed…bashful?

“I have a…surprise,” Jungkook finally seemed to admit, “For you.” A brief smile tugged on his lips, “I think you’ll like it.”

“For me?” You raised your brows with a smile.

“Yes, when I was in a meeting this morning Taehyun came to report something to me, it’s about the ashe wolf…Or well…” Jungkook gestured you over as you came to stand beside him before you gasped out as he continued, “More like what they discovered she had been carrying.”

You could feel your words stuck in your throat at the beautiful thick grey fur and big puppy eyes that stared back up at you, just the realization made tears sting in your eyes as your heart ached, “Oh she was protecting her pup.”

You immediately reached out as the ashe wolf pup sniffed your hand curiously before licking it, making you giggle as your smile softened, rubbing your hand between it’s ears. It looked like a full grown dog but it was so little for an ashe wolf.

“When the guards were cleaning up the mess this morning they discovered it in the pocket hide of the wolf, the moment they reported it to me I took it here first thing to build somewhere to keep it until we could give him a proper pen of his own.” Jungkook explained.

Your eyes widened as you glanced up at him, “We’re keeping it?”

This made the tiniest of smiles tug on Jungkook’s lips, “I know how much it meant to you to try and keep the wolf safe, I feel like this is the best apology I can give for what happened.”

A small smile tugged on your lips, feeling somewhat bashful at his words as you continued to pet the pup, “It wasn’t your fault what happened…There’s no need to apologize over it, but…” Your smile began to grow as your eyes almost glittered in excitement, “I really do appreciate this Jungkook. Thank you.”

The pup however was now busy chasing it’s own tail before you extended your arm out further gaining it’s attention, it’s big wet nose nudging you before happiness thrumming in your chest as it nudged your hand for another pet.

Jungkook had leaned against the side of the wall, a soft smile on his lips as he watched you squeal as you rubbed your hand against the bridge of its nose and the more you thought about it the more your chest squeezed in a sort happiness that you weren’t sure you had ever experienced before.

“Really, I mean…I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” You grinned out as you finally pulled away from the pup as you looked at Jungkook, who seemed quite satisfied with your reactions thus far.

“I don’t think you need too,” Jungkook looked amused as he raised a brow, “I can quite literally see how much you like it.”

But it just filled you with so much more glee, your hands were nearly trembling at how much excitement filled you...Jungkook chose to keep the pup just...for you? It made your whole body feel warm and fuzzy and in a fit of happiness you turned to face him fully before nearly throwing yourself at him.

Your arms curling around his neck as you squealed out in excitement and your heart was skipping beats in your chest as a shyness coiled in you, “No really! Thank you. This means the world to me.”

Jungkook’s body stiffened upon contact with you as he stared down at you somewhat in bewilderment before he slowly relaxed once more, still somewhat awkward as he was unsure where to place his hands before settling around your waist.

He wouldn’t deny, out of all the times he wished he had your thanks. For the first time, it felt very fulfilling to hear. But he wasn’t even truly focused on your words anymore, just that he realized, he really enjoyed seeing you smile.

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