#its always in the back of my mind... i look at him and im like you broke ur arm on purpose... bc ur parents didnt love u.......... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itendtothinkalot · 13 hours ago

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& it was all yellow (strangers to lovers)

summary: yellow was never beomgyu’s favorite color—until you came along with your ridiculously bright yellow headphones that somehow made you look even cuter. he saw you on the bus once, just minding your business, and that was it—game over for him. suddenly, yellow wasn’t just a color; it was you. the only problem? beomgyu (yes, the choi beomgyu, who seems cool and confident to everyone else) turns into a shy, blushing mess whenever you’re around. now he’s sitting there, heart racing, trying to come up with any excuse to talk to you—without making a complete fool of himself. except he does.

genre: fluff!!! super mega fluff. no angst. none at all. i promise!

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 11.9k

warnings: cursing? i think

a/n: im such a beomgyu simp. i just have so much ideas for this man...and legend has it hes not even my bias.........................

Beomgyu liked to think of himself as two different people.

There was Group Beomgyu—the one his friends knew. Loud, quick-witted, always cracking jokes that left everyone in stitches. He was the guy who could light up a room without even trying. The one who dared his friends to do the ridiculous, like singing karaoke in public or sneaking fries into a movie theater.

But then, there was Solo Beomgyu.

That version of him emerged the moment he was alone. Quiet. Thoughtful. A little unsure of himself. Solo Beomgyu found solace in the mundane—watching raindrops race down bus windows, people-watching from his favorite spot at the back of the bus, and trying to guess the life stories of strangers in passing.

The bus ride to campus was his favorite part of the day. It was his escape, his time to recharge before stepping into the chaos of college life. And lately, it had become even more interesting—because of you.

It was silly, really. The first time he noticed you, he thought you looked cute as you climbed onto the bus in a skirt and baby tee. Your hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and you wore a pair of headphones that were impossible to miss. Those headphones—bright, sunny yellow—were probably the most damning thing about you.

How could someone so effortlessly capture his attention with something as simple as a pop of color? Yet there you were, sitting a few seats away, bobbing your head to the music only you could hear, completely oblivious to the way you’d become the highlight of his mornings.

Life had a funny way of showing irony. Just the day before, after spending hours gaming with his buddies, Beomgyu had sighed into his pillow, the weight of routine pressing down on him. It wasn’t that he hated his life—far from it. He was content, in a way. But somewhere deep down, he felt like his world had lost its color.

Nothing excited him anymore. Life had become an endless loop: wake up, take the bus to campus, study, head home, game with his friends, sleep, and repeat. Sure, there were the occasional party invitations, and he didn’t mind attending one here and there. But even those didn’t light a spark in him. They were fun, sure, but not really his scene.

It was strange to think how much his days blended together—until recently. Because now, as silly as it sounded, one part of his routine had started to stand out.

You.

Or, more specifically, your bright yellow headphones. They’d added a splash of color to his otherwise grayscale world. Something about how unapologetically vibrant they were made you seem larger than life, even as you quietly kept to yourself. It wasn’t just the headphones—it was you. The way you looked so at ease in your own little bubble, head bobbing to music only you could hear.

It was ridiculous to feel this drawn to someone he’d never even spoken to. But then again, maybe those yellow headphones weren’t just a splash of color. Maybe they were the first brushstroke of something entirely new.

It had been weeks since he’d first noticed you. By now, he’d already memorized your bus schedule—not because he was a stalker or anything, but simply because you seemed to follow the same routine as him. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, like clockwork, you’d board the bus at the same stop, settle into your usual seat, and disappear into your world of music.

The two of you always got off at the same stop, though you’d inevitably drift in separate directions. He’d head toward the business building, his heavy bag slung over one shoulder, while you veered off toward the art center. That alone made him think you were an arts student. It fit, somehow. There was something creative about the way you carried yourself—effortless, like you were painting a masterpiece just by walking through the world.

And even though he didn’t know your name or anything about you beyond these small details, you’d already become a fixture in his mind.

–

“You should talk to her,” Soobin mumbled, biting off a chunk of his chocolate bar and waving it lazily in the air as if the solution were that simple.

“And say what?” Beomgyu shot back, slumping further into the worn couch in their shared dorm.

“I don’t know... things?” Soobin shrugged, barely looking up from the phone in his other hand.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “You’re useless.”

Soobin smirked. “Says the guy who’s spent weeks staring at her like a weirdo.”

Beomgyu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “It’s not that easy, okay? What if she’s not interested? What if I mess it up? What if—”

“What if she’s waiting for you to say something?” Soobin interrupted, his tone suddenly a little softer. “Look, all I’m saying is, you’re not gonna get anywhere just memorizing her bus schedule and hoping she notices you exist.”

Beomgyu scoffed but couldn’t deny the sting of truth in his friend’s words. He’d spent so much time admiring you from afar, inventing scenarios in his head, but none of them ever involved him actually... acting on it.

“Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Soobin. “I’ll talk to her.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Beomgyu straightened up, determination flickering in his eyes. “Next time I see her, I’ll... I’ll figure something out.”

Soobin grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t wait to hear about how that goes.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare but couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at his lips.

–

And just like that, he’d convinced himself he was ready to approach you. Except he wasn’t. Days had passed, and despite his mental pep talks and rehearsed lines, he couldn’t bring himself to even say hi.

Like he said, “solo Beomgyu” was a whole different type of Beomgyu.

In front of his friends, he could crack jokes and steal the spotlight without breaking a sweat. But in front of you? He became a nervous wreck, fumbling over words in his head that never even made it out.

Well, that was until one fateful morning.

The city had woken up to chaos. Roads were closed in multiple areas because of some big event Beomgyu didn’t bother to look up—probably a marathon or a parade or something equally annoying to his morning routine. Either way, it was causing a major disruption, and Beomgyu was not thrilled.

He stood at the bus stop, waiting impatiently as three consecutive buses rolled by, each one packed to the brim. It felt like an eternity. He rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

Great.

The crowd at the stop grew thicker, and Beomgyu found himself shifting uncomfortably between clusters of impatient commuters. He hated waiting. Hated the feeling of wasting time when he could’ve been doing literally anything else.

And then he saw you.

You stood a little further down the pavement, your yellow headphones perched snugly over your ears, your gaze focused somewhere distant. You didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the chaos around you, which only added to the list of things Beomgyu found unfairly fascinating about you.

For a moment, he debated whether to move closer, maybe strike up a conversation while you both waited. But before he could make up his mind, the next bus pulled up.

This one wasn’t quite as crowded, though still far from comfortable. Beomgyu squeezed on, finding himself pushed toward the back, when suddenly, a voice interrupted his silent grumbling.

“Excuse me.”

It was soft but clear enough to make him glance over—and there you were, maneuvering through the aisle, your bag held close to your side as you tried to find a spot to stand. Beomgyu froze.

You were right there.

Fate, coincidence, bad luck—whatever it was, it had dropped you within arm’s reach. Beomgyu’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to decide what to do. Say something? Smile? Pretend he didn’t notice you and stare out the window like his life didn’t hinge on this moment?

The bus jolted suddenly, and you stumbled, grabbing onto the nearest pole to steady yourself. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—that pole was the same one Beomgyu was holding onto.

Your hand brushed his, just briefly, but it was enough to send his brain into overdrive.

“Sorry,” you said softly, glancing up at him with an apologetic smile before returning your focus to the window.

Beomgyu blinked, his heart still racing. He opened his mouth, words teetering on the edge of spilling out, but all he managed was a faint, “It’s okay.”

You didn’t hear him. Or if you did, you didn’t acknowledge it. And just like that, the moment passed, leaving Beomgyu kicking himself internally.

But as the bus rolled on, he found a tiny flicker of hope. Sure, he hadn’t said much, but you’d spoken to him first. That had to mean something, right?

20 minutes. The bus ride was 20 minutes, and the two of you were right next to each other. Beomgyu felt his palms sweating, his heart pounding in his chest.

God, she’s right beside me. He felt himself gulp, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

He’d never been so grateful for being almost a head and a half taller than you. It meant you couldn’t see the small, nervous glances he kept stealing in your direction.

The bus was growing more crowded by the minute. It was starting to get a little uncomfortable. You could feel yourself being pushed into Beomgyu, the pressure increasing with every jolt the bus took. His arms were propped up, gripping the taller handles above him, while you fumbled around, trying to find anything to hold onto. First, you grabbed the pole, then the handles near the seats, but as the bus rocked, you found yourself with nothing to stabilize you.

Beomgyu noticed. His heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he reached behind you, his hand hovering near your backpack, fingers brushing against the fabric, just trying to hold you steady. He hoped you didn’t notice.

But the bus was moving like a rollercoaster. The driver swerved around a corner, and suddenly, the entire vehicle felt like it was on the edge of tipping. A pothole hit with a thud, and the jolt sent you stumbling.

You flailed for balance, but there was nothing left to grab. Before you knew it, you were teetering dangerously, feeling yourself lose your footing.

In an instant, Beomgyu’s hand shot forward. His fingers found your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. The warmth of his hands against you was unexpected, sending a flutter through your chest.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, your voice soft but clear, your heart still racing from the near-miss.

Beomgyu froze for a second, the sound of your voice like music to his ears. He felt the flush creep up his neck but tried to hide it with a casual, “No problem.” His grip lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, though neither of you seemed to mind.

The bus swayed again, and for a second, everything felt oddly... comfortable. Beomgyu could hear his heart thumping in his chest, but this time it was because of you—not the chaos of the ride.

—

The next day, the roads had finally cleared up. Beomgyu silently thanked every living being for that, especially since he had been about 30 minutes late for his class the previous day, missing out on a lecture he’d already been struggling with.

As he waited for the bus, his eyes automatically scanned the street, and there you were—your familiar yellow headphones bouncing as you made your way toward the bus stop.

You looked up, catching his eye from a few feet away, and offered him a smile.

“Hello,” you said, your voice light and friendly.

Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he forgot how to breathe. “H-Hello,” he managed to croak out, cringing inwardly. Idiot.

You didn’t seem to mind, though. You gave him another smile, and it felt like the whole world slowed down for a second.

The bus soon arrived, and the two of you got on. Beomgyu’s eyes scanned the seats, and to his horror, all the empty ones were... right next to each other.

He froze. Great. Of course. Of all the seats.

Reluctantly, he made his way toward the row where you had already started to sit, mentally preparing himself for a potentially awkward ride. As he approached, you glanced up at him, your expression brightening.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You shook your head. “It’s a free country.”

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment longer than necessary before sitting down beside you.

The bus jolted forward, and he instinctively reached for the pole above them, his fingers gripping it a little too tightly. Why am I so nervous? He couldn’t understand it.

Meanwhile, you settled into the seat, adjusting your backpack and glancing out the window. For a moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—sitting beside someone you’d barely spoken to but already felt strangely connected with.

Beomgyu had no idea how to break the silence. But then, as if on cue, you turned to him.

“So… how’s your day going so far?”

It was a simple question, but the way you asked it made his heart race all over again. He managed to smile, albeit awkwardly.

“Uh, good, I guess. The roads are less crazy today.”

You laughed, and it felt like the weight in his chest lightened a little. “Yeah, I noticed. It was a mess yesterday.”

He nodded, relieved that the conversation hadn’t turned into an awkward silence.

“So… you’re heading to the art center again?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah. I’m always there on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“Oh.” He pretended like he hadn’t known this little detail about you.

Beomgyu found himself relaxing a little more with each passing second. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. The awkwardness was still there, but it felt like a stepping stone—like the beginning of something that could finally get easier.

The bus continued to roll along, Beomgyu stole a quick glance at you, his heart fluttering as you hummed softly to the music in your headphones. For once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable.

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, with only the occasional rattle of the bus as it made its way through the streets. Beomgyu found himself struggling to think of anything to say. He could hear the faint melody of your music through the air, but there was no other conversation to fill the space. He tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh, stealing glances at you, trying to figure out how to start another topic.

His mind raced with all the things he could say, but none of them seemed good enough. This is so awkward, he thought, almost groaning internally. Why is this so hard?

His eyes landed on his phone. The distraction was tempting. He pulled it out and quickly opened Spotify, deciding that he could at least use the music to mask the silence between the two of you. Beomgyu scrolled through his playlists, searching for something that felt right for the moment.

The bus jerked again, and Beomgyu adjusted his seat, tapping on a song and turning the volume up, only to suddenly realize—Wait, I haven’t connected my AirPods.

Flustered, he fumbled with his phone, tapping at the Bluetooth settings and then back to the app, his face warming with embarrassment. Idiot.

But as the awkwardness hit its peak, you turned to him with a soft smile. “I like that song,” you said, your voice calm and easy, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “It really suits you.”

Beomgyu blinked in surprise, his nerves a little shaken by the unexpected compliment. He looked at you, his heart racing again. “It suits me?” he repeated, voice a little higher than he intended.

You shrugged lightly, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Yeah, it’s got a kind of... laid-back vibe. Kind of like you, I guess?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed, not sure whether to laugh or be more self-conscious. He adjusted his AirPods in a hurry, trying to make himself look less flustered than he felt.

“Thanks,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, it’s just a playlist... but yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”

You smiled back, then looked out the window again, but Beomgyu couldn’t help but notice how much more comfortable the moment felt now. The weight of silence didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

He tapped play on the song again, this time making sure the music was coming through his AirPods. The familiar melody filled his ears, and for once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable. Instead, it was like a subtle connection was forming, one little step at a time.

"And how would you know if I'm laid-back?" Beomgyu asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but the curiosity in your eyes made him feel like he could ask the question without it sounding too awkward.

You chuckled softly, turning to face him for a moment. "I don't know," you shrugged, smiling. "Just a guess? Call it a woman's intuition."

Beomgyu blinked, not quite sure what to say. “Woman's intuition?” he repeated, a little taken aback.

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe I just get a sense of things.” You hesitated for a second, then added, “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. But at least, for now, you didn’t seem to mind.

"I-I guess I do try not to let things bother me too much," he mumbled, still trying to figure out what to do with his hands. "Though, I wouldn't say I'm always that chill. I have my... moments." He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't think he was some kind of mess.

You smiled, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "Everyone does."

Beomgyu blinked, surprised by how comforting your words were. For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down again, and it was just the two of you, exchanging these small moments of understanding.

"True," Beomgyu said softly, his smile growing a little more genuine. "I guess I'm just not great at dealing with, you know, awkward moments."

You looked at him curiously. "Awkward moments, huh?"

Beomgyu nodded, his ears turning a little red. "Yeah... like this one." He gestured vaguely between the two of them, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I mean, I don't usually... I don't know, talk to people like this."

Your smile softened. "You seem like you’re doing just fine to me."

His heart swelled a little at that. "Really?"

"Yeah," you replied, your tone sincere. "You’re doing great."

Beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile he couldn’t contain. "Thanks," he said, feeling a little less nervous than he had before. "That means a lot, actually."

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the bus’s tires on the road and the faint music in his ears the only background noise. Beomgyu felt a strange sense of peace settle in his chest. Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all.

He glanced over at you, catching you humming softly along to the music, and realized that, somehow, this was one of the most comfortable conversations he’d ever had.

"Hey," Beomgyu said after a beat, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What about you? What’s your favorite type of music?"

You turned to him with a thoughtful look, clearly enjoying the question. "I guess I’m all about the acoustic stuff mostly."

"Acoustic, huh?" Beomgyu said with a smile, intrigued. "I can see that. Seems like something you’d like."

You smiled, the sound of your laughter filling the space between you. "You got that from…?”

“Call it an idiot’s intuition.” He chuckled.

You laughed, “What about you?"

Beomgyu chuckled, trying to hide the grin that spread across his face. "I’m pretty into all kinds of stuff, but right now? Definitely some chill pop. Y’know, maybe I’m starting to agree with you on the whole laid-back thing."

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing him. "So, you admit it?"

Beomgyu shrugged, leaning back a little, feeling a little more confident with each word. "Yeah. I guess I do."

And in that moment, Beomgyu finally realized that maybe, just maybe, the things he’d been too nervous to do or say weren’t as difficult as he’d once thought.

—

Beomgyu slumped back into his bus seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. After weeks of stealing glances and summoning every ounce of courage he had, today had finally been the day he talked to you. Well, kind of. It was small talk—weather, classes, and music. But it was progress.

And yet, in his nervousness, he’d forgotten the most important thing. He hadn’t asked for your name or your number. He groaned inwardly, glancing out the window as the bus trundled down the familiar route. It was Thursday, which meant he wouldn’t see you again until Monday. Four whole days.

“Great,” he muttered, slumping further into his seat. “Four days to kick myself for being an idiot.”

Monday arrived far too slowly, and Beomgyu was oddly fidgety, his leg bouncing as he stared at the bus stop from his seat. The bus slowed to a stop, and his heart leapt in anticipation—only to sink when you weren’t there.

He glanced out the window, confused. Maybe you were running late. Or you’d taken an earlier bus? He brushed it off, convincing himself you’d show up tomorrow.

But then Tuesday came. And Wednesday. And still, there was no sign of you.

Beomgyu found himself staring at the seat you always sat in, empty and glaringly obvious. He hated how it bothered him so much. He barely knew you—he didn’t even know your name—and yet he felt like something was missing. Like the bus rides were quieter without the possibility of you being there.

By Thursday, disappointment had settled heavily in his chest. He sat near the back, earphones in but barely paying attention to the music. The world outside the window blurred past, but his thoughts were stuck on you.

Where were you?

—

It had been approximately two weeks since Beomgyu had last seen you. You had vanished like the wind, leaving him frustrated and more restless than he wanted to admit. Every day since, he’d made excuses to linger outside the art center, hoping for some sign of you. Desperation had even driven him to approach the center’s custodian, awkwardly asking if he’d seen anyone with bright yellow headphones.

“Yellow headphones?” a voice behind him piped up, catching Beomgyu off guard. “You mean this girl, right?”

Beomgyu turned to find a tall, sharp-featured guy holding out his phone, displaying a picture of you.

Immediately, Beomgyu’s stomach twisted. He took in the guy’s confident smile, the casual air about him, and the way he spoke about you like he knew you well—too well. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Beomgyu said, his voice measured. “Who are you?”

“I’m Yeonjun,” the guy said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He extended a hand, but Beomgyu hesitated for a second before shaking it. “I’m her friend.”

Friend? Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed slightly. Yeonjun was a little too good-looking to just be a friend, wasn’t he?

“So, uh…” Beomgyu cleared his throat, trying to hide the slight edge in his voice. “Do you know where she’s been?”

Yeonjun’s expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Yeah. Something happened a couple of weeks ago. She’s been taking some time off to deal with it. But she should be back next week.”

Beomgyu felt a wave of relief wash over him—until Yeonjun added, “She’s been doing okay, though. We’ve been texting, and I’ve checked in on her a couple of times. You know, just to make sure she’s alright.”

Beomgyu’s jaw tightened. Texting? Checking in? Was that really necessary for a “friend”? He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a pang of jealousy flared in his chest.

“Right,” Beomgyu said, forcing a small smile. “That’s good. It’s good she has…people checking in on her.”

Yeonjun tilted his head, studying Beomgyu for a moment. “Who are you, anyway?” he asked casually. “Do you…know her?”

Beomgyu froze for a split second, the question catching him off guard. He shrugged quickly, trying to play it off. “Not really. We just…take the same bus sometimes.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun said, his lips quirking up into a small, knowing smile. “I see. So you’re, what? A bus friend?”

“Something like that,” Beomgyu mumbled, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He wished he’d thought of something cooler to say, but it was too late now.

“Well,” Yeonjun said with a grin, “that’s cute. But yeah, don’t worry—she’ll be back soon. And maybe I’ll see you around too, man.”

“Yeah. See you,” Beomgyu replied, watching as Yeonjun walked away.

As soon as Yeonjun was out of sight, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He felt ridiculous. He didn’t even know your name, and yet here he was, stewing over some guy who probably wasn’t even competition.

Still, as he walked back toward the bus stop, the thought lingered: What if Yeonjun wasn’t just a friend?

—

And Yeonjun was right. You were back the following week, except you were dressed in the darkest colors Beomgyu had ever seen you wear. Your expression matched your clothing—cloudy, somber, and weighed down by something unseen. Strangely, he found it almost endearing that you seemed to dress the way you felt.

Still, it made him worry. Not that he had any right to, given that you two weren’t exactly close. But the thought lingered: What could’ve happened to make her look this upset?

When he finally gathered the courage to take the seat beside you on the bus, you didn’t even glance at him. You were completely absorbed in your thoughts, your body language practically screaming, Leave me alone.

“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Your voice cut through his thoughts suddenly.

“Huh?” he asked, blinking in surprise.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed out the window. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It can suck,” he admitted. “But it can also be really great.”

You turned your head slightly, finally acknowledging him with a raised brow. “Oh, yeah? How’s it ‘really great,’ exactly?”

“Well,” he started, leaning back in his seat, “it’s great because… it’s unpredictable. You never know when something good might happen. Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart, sometimes the universe throws you a surprise. Like…” He paused, glancing at you meaningfully, “…sitting next to someone who’s too cute to be upset.”

The corners of your lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through. “That’s cheesy,” you said, but there was no hiding the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Cheesy, sure, but also a fact ,” he replied with a grin. “See? You’re smiling already..”

You shook your head, laughing softly before falling quiet again. After a beat of silence, you sighed. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t like moping around. It’s just…”

Beomgyu tilted his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“…My parents decided to sell our old childhood home,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “I had to go back and clear out all my things. It’s stupid. A first-world problem if you must, but I didn’t think it’d hit me this hard.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze warm and understanding. “It’s not stupid,” he said gently. “It’s your childhood. It’s where you grew up, made memories, and felt safe. It’s okay to be upset about losing something that meant so much to you.”

You looked at him, your expression conflicted. “I guess. It’s just… I feel so silly. Like, there are bigger problems in the world, and here I am crying over a house.”

“It’s not just a house, though, is it?” he countered, his tone firm but kind. “It’s a piece of you. And no one gets to tell you how to feel about it, not even yourself. Your feelings are valid—every single one of them.”

Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by his sincerity. For the first time in days, you felt a weight lift off your chest.

“Thanks,” you said softly, offering him a small, genuine smile. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a wink, making you laugh despite yourself.

As the bus rolled to a stop near campus, you glanced at him and hesitated for a moment. “Hey, Beomgyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe life doesn’t suck that much after all,” you said, your smile widening just a little before you stood up and stepped off the bus.

He stayed seated, watching you walk away, and couldn’t help but grin to himself. Maybe life didn’t suck that much, indeed.

Then it hit him.

How’d you know his name?

—

It had become second nature to save each other a seat on the bus. Whether it was an unspoken agreement or just something you both fell into, neither of you questioned it. For the next two weeks, your mornings began with a quiet understanding. You’d sit side by side, talking about the most mundane things—complaints about the weather, funny things you’d overheard, or random thoughts that popped into your heads.

Still, you hadn’t exchanged names, let alone numbers. It was almost absurd at this point, how you knew snippets of each other’s lives but not the most basic details. Except you did know his name—and Beomgyu was still wondering how.

Beomgyu found it funny too. But he didn’t mind. He liked your conversations, no matter how random they were.

Then one day, Beomgyu didn’t show up.

You found yourself glancing down the street more than once, your brows furrowed as you searched for any sign of his figure walking toward the stop. The bus pulled up, and you hesitated, standing on your toes to peer down the block one last time before climbing aboard.

You took your usual seat by the window, feeling a small pang of disappointment. The bus rolled forward, the rain outside picking up again and blurring the city beyond the glass. You stared at the streaks of water running down the pane, wondering where he could be.

That was when the bus jerked to a sudden stop.

You glanced toward the front, curious, only to see someone hopping up the stairs, drenched from head to toe. It took you half a second to recognize him, but when you did, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you.

Beomgyu stood there, panting slightly, his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his jacket. His sneakers squeaked against the floor as he caught his breath.

“You made it,” you said, grinning as he shuffled over to your seat.

“Yeah,” he replied between breaths, dropping into the seat beside you with a sheepish smile. “Barely.”

“Did you seriously chase the bus?” you asked, trying not to laugh too hard.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I couldn’t miss it. Someone’s got to save you a seat.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you handed him a tissue from your bag. “It’s the other way around, is it not?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking the tissue to wipe his face.

As the bus rolled forward again, the rain continued to pour outside, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore. Beomgyu was here, sitting beside you again, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, that made the day feel a whole lot brighter.

“Y’know… I still don’t know how you know my name while I don’t even know yours,” Beomgyu said, leaning back in his seat as he looked at you with curious eyes.

You grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “I… It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid is that we’re practically best friends now, and I still don’t know your name or have your number,” he said with a pointed look.

“I like our friendship. It’s low maintenance,” you teased, biting back a smile.

“I’d like it more if I could talk to you more often instead of just on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” he countered, his lips quirking into a small pout.

You laughed. “But isn’t it fun this way?”

“It’s a whole amusement park,” he replied with a chuckle. “Though we’re threading off-topic—how’d you know my name?”

“Who doesn’t know your name, business boy?” you shot back, laughing softly.

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re the infamous business boy on our school’s social media page. You don’t know about that?”

“Oh, I heard Soobin mention something about it a couple of times, but I don’t really check the app. I just use it to look at the lunch menu,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, you’re always making appearances on there. Especially from new students. ‘The dude from Econs 305 is really cute,’” you mimicked in a high-pitched voice, earning a laugh from him.

“Oh, so you’re saying you frequent the page often to find me?” he teased, leaning a little closer with a smirk.

“No! I’m just saying it pops up on my feed,” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. You looked away, embarrassed by the way he was watching you now.

“Hmm.” Beomgyu’s smirk deepened as he tapped his chin dramatically. “You’re blushing. Are you sure you don’t check it on purpose?”

“Absolutely not,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.

“Okay, okay,” he relented, though his grin didn’t fade. He leaned back in his seat and looked at you thoughtfully. “Still, I’m flattered. Infamous, huh? Guess I’ve got quite the reputation.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, after a moment of silence, he tilted his head and added, “So, are you ever going to tell me your name, or are you going to keep the mystery alive?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know… The mystery has a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned dramatically. “Throw me a bone here.”

You laughed, finally relenting. “Fine. I’ll tell you—on one condition.”

“Anything,” he said eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

“You’re going to have to wait a little longer,” you teased, grinning at the look of mock horror on his face.

“Is this some kind of game for you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you grinned, feeling a little mischievous. “But don’t worry, I’ll tell you soon enough.”

Beomgyu sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

Your conversation was abruptly cut off by the bus driver’s voice over the intercom, his tone apologetic. “Sorry for the delay, folks. There’s a small flood up ahead, and we’re going to have to take a detour. We’ll be going around, so it’ll take about 20 more minutes. Please bear with us.”

You sighed, leaning back into your seat. The rain outside was relentless, tapping against the windows in a rhythm that made your eyelids heavy. Gradually, you drifted off, your head tilting toward the window. Every so often, you jerked awake, only for your head to fall back against the glass with a soft thud. Beomgyu watched you, his lips twitching as he stifled a chuckle. He shifted closer, his gaze softening. Carefully, he leaned over and gently placed your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t stir. The comfort of the moment made you relax further into him, unaware of the quiet smile on Beomgyu’s face. After a few moments, an idea sparked in his mind. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a Sharpie, the black marker feeling oddly significant in his hands. Glancing down at your arm, he softly grasped your wrist, guiding it gently. He wrote quickly, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he scrawled:

‘Text me, I’m trying to be your best friend on all 7 days of the week - Beomgyu’

Once he was done, he sat back, his heart racing a little as he looked at your sleeping form. Pretending like nothing had happened, he adjusted his posture and looked out the window, as if he hadn’t just written his number on your arm.

About 15 minutes later, the bus jolted as it finally approached your campus, pulling into the stop with a slight screech of the wheels. The ride was almost over, and you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open slowly. You blinked a few times, squinting in the morning light that filtered through the windows.

Beomgyu glanced over at you casually, his face neutral as you yawned, rubbing your eyes. You stretched and groggily looked around, your gaze landing on him.

“Hey,” he said, almost too nonchalantly. “We’re here. Campus, I mean.”

You nodded, still dazed from sleep. “Yeah, I guess we are.” You glanced down at your arm, and your eyes widened when you saw the writing on your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to hide it.

Beomgyu didn’t acknowledge your surprise, pretending to look out the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his bag. “Didn’t want to wake you up, but… it’s kind of hard to miss, huh?”

You rubbed your arm, trying to act casual. “Hmm, what’s this?” You raised an eyebrow, playing along.

“Nothing,” Beomgyu said, voice smooth. “Just figured it was a good time to share my number. You know, in case you need me for… any reason.” He grinned, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before he quickly looked away, feigning innocence.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart fluttering a bit at his casual confidence. “Smooth, Beomgyu. Really smooth.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure I’m not just a bus stop friend,” he said, a playful tone in his voice. “I’ve got big plans for us to hang out… all week long.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

Beomgyu only grinned, looking down at his bag as the bus doors finally opened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As you both stood up, gathering your things, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you two, the kind that felt both thrilling and comforting all at once.

—

Beomgyu glanced down at his phone again, his finger hovering over the screen, but there was still no text from you. It had been a day or two since he wrote his number on your arm, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were just too busy or, worse, playing hard to get. The thought made his chest tighten. He didn’t like that feeling, the uncertainty, but it was all he could think about. God, he wanted you so much, but now... now he wasn’t so sure.

He sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and heading toward the campus bus stop. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd written his number on your arm, hoping you’d text him. He should’ve just asked for your number, but for some reason, he’d held back. What was wrong with him?

And then, as if on cue, he saw you standing there. His heart skipped a beat. You were just as he remembered—yellow headphones hanging around your neck. But there was something different this time. Something he hadn’t expected.

Someone was with you.

Beomgyu stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Yeonjun. Of course, it had to be him. The guy was tall, confident, and... his arm was around you. Beomgyu's stomach twisted, the jealousy creeping up on him. He wasn’t the type to feel this way, but seeing the two of you together felt like a punch to the gut.

He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. That you’d never given him any indication you liked him in the first place. You were beautiful, funny, smart—of course, you’d be taken. He shouldn’t even be surprised, but damn it, it stung more than he expected.

Beomgyu glanced away, his feet itching to leave. Maybe it was better not to make a fool of himself.

Just as he was about to walk off, a loud voice rang through the air. "Beomgyu!"

He turned, and there you were—waving at him, smiling that infectious smile of yours. His heart fluttered. You looked so happy to see him. For a brief moment, the jealousy melted away, and all he could do was return your smile.

"Beomgyu, right?" Yeonjun said, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, the kind of smile that made Beomgyu want to roll his eyes. "I remember you. You’re the one who asked me where she was when she disappeared for two weeks."

Beomgyu’s face flushed instantly. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to vanish into the ground or laugh it off. "No, no. That’s not me," he muttered, shaking his head quickly, trying to downplay the awkwardness of the moment.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. "No, I remember. It was you. I mean, you're the Business Boy, aren’t you?" He smirked, clearly amused. "I was a little surprised you were asking about this idiot here."

You shoved Yeonjun lightly, but Beomgyu could see the playful affection in your eyes. And in that moment, his heart sank. So this was it. You and Yeonjun. He had hoped he was wrong, but now he could see it clearly. You were a couple.

"You asked about me?" You tilted your head slightly, your eyes catching his.

Beomgyu’s cheeks flushed pink. "I mean, you were gone for so long, so I was just... wondering where you went."

"You came all the way to the arts center just to ask about me?" Your voice was light, teasing, and for some reason, it made his heart race.

Beomgyu quickly waved his hand, his face growing even warmer. "It’s not like that," he said, trying to downplay it. "I was just curious, that’s all."

But before he could say anything more, you grinned, eyes sparkling. "That’s so sweet!" You suddenly rushed over to Beomgyu’s arm, linking it with yours, much to his surprise.

He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. He wasn’t sure whether to pull away or enjoy the moment. His heart thudded in his chest as you looked up at him with a playful smile.

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun chimed in, his voice teasing. "I get it, you two have some weird little connection, but we have to get going. I’ll let you two catch up later." He gave Beomgyu a knowing look before nudging you gently, a playful grin still on his face.

You looked a little embarrassed, but you didn’t let go of Beomgyu’s arm. "Sorry, I just... haven’t seen you in a while, Beomgyu," you said, your voice quieter now, your gaze softening. "It’s nice to know you cared enough to ask about me."

“It’s only been two days,” Beomgyu thought bitterly, but didn’t say aloud. He couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that surfaced, especially after the number exchange that had been left hanging.

"Also, you haven’t texted me back," you sighed dramatically. "To think you were the one who told me to text you."

Beomgyu blinked, slightly taken aback. "You did?" His voice betrayed his confusion. "I didn’t get anything from you."

"You did!" You shoved your phone in his face. "See?"

Beomgyu grabbed your phone and checked the message history. "I didn’t get anything," he said again, scrolling through, but as he looked closely, he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you saved my number wrong. It’s an 8, not a 6."

You stared at the screen in disbelief. "It’s a 6. I’m sure of it. Hold on, I even took a picture of it! See!" You quickly opened your gallery and shoved the phone at him again, showing him the snapshot of the contact info.

Beomgyu frowned, shaking his head. "No, that's definitely an 8," he said with a laugh, trying to hide his amusement at your determination.

"You have terrible handwriting!" you retorted, hands on your hips.

"No, I don’t!" Beomgyu shot back, now laughing. "You just have terrible comprehension skills!"

The two of you continued to bicker, your playful banter creating an almost natural rhythm. Yeonjun, standing beside you, cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the back-and-forth.

"Love, we really have to go," he said, his tone flat and a bit impatient, but still affectionate.

You blinked, suddenly realizing the time. "Oh, right! Sorry, I got carried away." Then, turning to Beomgyu with a bright smile, you said, "I’ll text you tonight, Beomgyu!"

Beomgyu, still processing the sudden turn of events, gave you a nod, though his chest felt oddly tight. "Alright," he said, his voice soft. "I’ll be waiting."

With that, you waved one last time and walked away with Yeonjun, leaving Beomgyu standing there, staring after you. He couldn’t help but wonder if the playful banter had meant something more—if maybe there was more between you two than just casual friendship. But until he heard from you, he could only hope.

—

Beomgyu laid in bed, his mind racing. Strangely, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts now—it was Yeonjun. Who was he, really? He wasn’t one to stalk someone’s Instagram, but tonight, he found himself doing just that. Scrolling through endless dance videos, selfies, and posts, he finally stumbled upon a highlight reel with a familiar yellow color—your yellow headphones.

Without thinking, his fingers tapped the screen, and video after video started playing. There you were, laughing, giggling, screaming, clearly having fun with Yeonjun. The two of you were obviously close—closer than he had imagined. His chest tightened as he watched, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He didn’t know how to feel. Jealous? That seemed silly, especially since you had never shown any signs of liking him back. His crush on you felt like a one-sided affair, and if anything, this just confirmed it.

Beomgyu chuckled to himself, still feeling that flutter in his chest. He quickly typed another response.

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. Time to move on, he told himself. It was just a silly crush, and he had no right to keep dwelling on it. You were probably just being nice, and Yeonjun was clearly in the picture. Beomgyu had no business lingering on something that wasn’t even real.

Just as he was about to close the app, a notification popped up on his screen.

Yellow Headphones: Beomgyu!

His heart skipped a beat, and a rush of warmth spread across his chest. So much for moving on, he thought again, his thumb hovering over the message. He hesitated for a second before responding.

Beomgyu: Yellow headphones~ Yellow Headphones: Is that my new nickname? Beomgyu: Well, depends, it’s either that or bus girl and that doesn’t really have a ring to it. Yellow Headphones: I suppose. Anyway, whatchu doing? ^^

Well, Beomgyu couldn’t tell the truth, now could he? Stalking your potential boyfriend sounded really stupid.

Beomgyu: Just using my phone. You? Yellow Headphones: With Yeonjun right now. He’s been stressed over his dance recital and I’ve been helping him with it, but he’s still feeling all over the place. Beomgyu: Oh. You and him seem really close. Yellow Headphones: Of course! We’ve been friends since we were 10 ^^ we’re practically brother and sister. Beomgyu: Oh! You two aren’t dating? Yellow Headphones: God no, ew… besides, he has a girlfriend, and he is not my type.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he read that. Not my type—those words felt like a weight lifting off his chest. The knot in his stomach loosened, and he felt an unexpected surge of hope.

Beomgyu: Oh!

Beomgyu smiled—actually, he beamed. His excitement made him jump out of bed, letting out a quiet scream of joy, before realizing he was making too much noise.

“BEOMGYU, SHUT UP, I’M TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP!” Soobin yelled from across the hall.

Beomgyu winced, sheepishly holding his phone closer to his chest. "Fuck, sorry!" he whispered, grinning to himself. He had a reason to be happy tonight, and that was enough for now. He quickly typed another message, eager to keep the conversation going.

Beomgyu: Haha, my bad. Yellow Headphones: Haha, it’s okay! Anyway, do you have any plans for tomorrow?

Beomgyu hesitated for a second, heart thumping. Was this really happening?

Yellow Headphones: Maybe we can hang out? I’d love to take this friendship out of the bus.

Beomgyu grinned wider, practically bouncing on his bed.

Beomgyu: I’ll see you at our usual bus stop at 3 then? Yellow Headphones: Sure!

—-

Beomgyu had been waiting at the bus stop for 10 minutes, it wasn’t that you were late, he was just really early, his excitement bubbling up as he checked his phone for the time again. He was nervous, but in a good way. Today was the day. The day he was meeting you outside of the usual school routine, just the two of you. And from the messages he'd gotten earlier, it was clear you were as excited as he was.

Then, as if on cue, he saw you.

You appeared in the distance, looking like a burst of sunshine in a bright yellow dress. Your hair was styled in a half ponytail, held up by a cute bow, making the whole look even more playful. Beomgyu felt his heart race as he took you in. Adorable. He couldn’t even put it into words, but his grin stretched from ear to ear. He had to force himself to stop from gushing about how cute you looked, biting his lip to keep himself from saying it out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to—he just didn’t want to seem too eager.

You skipped over to him, a playful energy radiating from you, and nudged his arm. "There you are," you giggled, poking his sides, making him flinch in surprise but laugh all the same.

"You look great!" you added, eyes twinkling as you looked him up and down.

Beomgyu’s heart fluttered at the compliment. He’d styled his hair with a bit of gel, making it tousled in that effortlessly cool way. He’d chosen a simple, casual dress shirt and slacks—nothing fancy, but enough to look presentable. Enough to say, yeah, I look good. Because, well, he was Beomgyu, and he always did.

“Do I look any different from how I dress on campus?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, though his smile betrayed his excitement.

You chuckled, crossing your arms in front of you as you assessed him. “Well, yeah. You only wear hoodies to school.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m a hoodie guy, what can I say?”

“You’re a hoodie guy with potential,” you teased, poking his side again.

His grin widened. “Guess I’ve got to wear more than just hoodies around you then, huh?”

You shrugged playfully. “Maybe.”

Beomgyu chuckled, feeling a strange warmth spreading through him. This was nice. Really nice. He found himself staring at you, the way you carried yourself with such ease and confidence, making it impossible not to smile. He was genuinely looking forward to this.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” he asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t come off as awkward, though he was fighting back the urge to let the conversation tumble into something that would sound way too cheesy.

“Well, I thought we could grab coffee first,” you suggested, grinning mischievously. “Then maybe take a walk around the park or something. Just… relax.”

“That sounds perfect,” Beomgyu replied, his voice a little softer than usual, but full of sincerity. He was definitely not about to complain about spending time with you.

You both fell into an easy conversation as you waited for the bus, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, his heart racing in a way he wasn’t used to. Being around you felt different. He’d always been around people, but this—this felt like something he couldn’t quite put into words.

It didn’t matter, though. Today was the start of something, and he was finally okay with the fact that he was feeling it.

—

Beomgyu felt his palms starting to sweat as he sat across from you at the coffee shop. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but suddenly he was nervous. Really nervous. His usual confident demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by a strange fluttering in his chest. Every time you laughed, he felt a little spark, and when you looked at him with that warm smile, it was like his heart skipped a beat. It was all so much more than he had anticipated.

You were saying something about how cute the coffee shop was, but Beomgyu was only half listening. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you—how effortlessly you moved, how you interacted with the people around you, your kindness radiating in everything you did. You said thank you to the barista, smiled at a little kid passing by, and his heart couldn’t help but swell. You were starting to feel a little too perfect, and it was making him swoon.

“So,” you said with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee, “this is a pretty cute first date, isn’t it?”

Beomgyu nearly choked on his drink. “Date? This is a date?” he blurted out, wide-eyed. His heart leaped into his throat as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t even thought about it that way.

You looked up at him, your cheeks instantly turning pink. “This isn’t a date? Oh… I just assumed… this is really embarrassing,” you said, your voice trailing off as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.

Beomgyu felt a wave of panic wash over him. His brain short-circuited, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of spending time with you that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of this being a date—and now you were embarrassed, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

"I—I'm sorry, I didn’t—" You sputtered, your words tumbling out in a mix of embarrassment. Then, in a flustered panic, you stood up and accidentally knocked over a glass of water onto your dress. "Oh my god!" you exclaimed, your face flushing in mortification.

Beomgyu’s heart dropped. “No! This can be a—” He rushed to stand up but hesitated, unsure of what to say to make things better.

You started to gather your things, clearly upset. “You don’t have to pity me, Beomgyu. I’ve been in this situation before,” you muttered, looking away and clutching your things tightly. “I’ll just—”

"No, you don’t get it!" Beomgyu almost shouted, his voice a little more desperate than he intended. "I don’t—it's not like that. I didn’t—this can definitely be a date if you want it to be," he stammered, feeling the heat rise to his face.

You froze, your hand still gripping your bag, and turned back to look at him. The nervousness in your eyes faded slightly, replaced by a hesitant curiosity. “Really?” you asked softly, as though unsure if you should believe him. “Because you don’t have to lie—”

“I’m not,” Beomgyu replied quickly, his voice more certain now. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since you took the bus in those big, bright yellow headphones.”

“Oh,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly. For a moment, everything was silent except for the chatter from everyone else in the coffee shop.

Beomgyu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't look away from you. “I know this probably isn’t how we both pictured this would happen,” he admitted, his voice softening.

This time, it was you who fell silent. You didn’t know what to say, so you just stood there, frozen in place. Then your eyes flickered downward. You realized your dress was wet, a small stream of water dripping down your leg.

“Right, my dress,” you mumbled, suddenly panicked.

“Here,” Beomgyu said quickly, handing you a napkin.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice small as you dabbed at the wet fabric.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, the realization of what had just been said still hanging in the air. So, you both clearly had feelings for each other, but neither of you seemed to know what to do with them.

“So, uh…” You both spoke at the same time, your words overlapping, before you both chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, uh…” Beomgyu trailed off, his hands shifting uncomfortably in his lap. “This is… a lot.”

“Yeah, a little,” you agreed, your voice tinged with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment.

For a moment, neither of you spoke again. The noise around you, the clinking of coffee cups and low hum of conversations, seemed to fill the space between you, making it feel both cozy and utterly awkward at the same time.

Beomgyu was the first to break the silence, his voice quiet but sincere. “I really like you, you know?”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering. “I like you too, Beomgyu. I really do.”

He looked at you, his eyes soft and a little shy now, but there was something else there too—hope. “Before we, I guess… become a couple…” He cringed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how endearing he was. “I’d love to take you out on a few dates first. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

You grinned. “You’re almost too perfect, I fear.”

Beomgyu smirked playfully. “I was thinking the same thing.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy between the two of you. It felt good—comfortable, even—and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so at ease with someone.

—

Two years had passed since that awkward coffee shop moment, and here they were again, at the same bus stop where it all began. Beomgyu and you stood side by side, hand in hand, but there was a noticeable difference now—two years of laughter, moments, and quiet affection between the two of you.

“This is ridiculous!” you exclaimed, frustration clear in your voice. “Why didn’t we think of moving somewhere else? Why do we insist on staying in this godforsaken area?!”

Beomgyu just chuckled, squeezing your hand lightly. “Baby, c’mon, this is where our roots are. Have you forgotten? Bus buddies and all that crap?”

You shot him a playful glare, rolling your eyes. “Gyu, this is getting crazy.” You gestured towards the crowded bus, which was slowly pulling away. “It’s the third one we’ve had to miss today. We’re never going to get to work on time at this rate.”

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly. “We could always just skip work. You know, pretend we’re working from home?” he teased.

You playfully shoved him. “Not funny,” you said with a soft laugh, though the frustration was still there. “But seriously, this is becoming a bit much. You’ve been saying for ages that we need to get out of this neighborhood.”

He took a step closer, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “You really wanna move out of this area?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost a little hesitant.

You turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. There was a seriousness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. “I love the memories we’ve made here, but the buses are a nightmare. And we don’t even live that far from each other anymore…” You sighed. “I don’t know. I think I might be ready for a change. Something a bit quieter. Closer to our workplaces.”

There was a brief silence as Beomgyu let the words sink in. He stood there for a moment, his hand still in yours, before a smile spread across his face. “You know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been thinking about something too…”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

Beomgyu’s smile grew, his eyes glinting with excitement. “What if we, uh, moved into an apartment closer to work? Somewhere we could both call our place… together?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions.

“I mean…” he trailed off, his voice suddenly softer. “I know we’ve been living separate lives in our own places, but what if we took the next step? What if we moved in together, like a real couple? Maybe in an apartment just a few blocks away from our workplaces? We could make it our own… just us.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the gravity of his words settled over you. For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him right.

But then, his hand gently cupped your cheek, and the sincerity in his gaze melted any doubt away. “What do you think? I’ve been saving up, and I thought… maybe it’s time. Time for us to be closer. To have our own space.”

Your heart was racing, your mind still trying to process everything Beomgyu had just said. You had dreamed about this moment, but hearing him actually say it out loud felt surreal. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” you whispered, the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“I am, if you say yes,” he replied, his voice full of sincerity, yet there was a hint of playfulness behind it.

You looked at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Now, how could I ever say no to that face?”

Beomgyu deadpanned, “You say no to me all the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s because your requests are ridiculous. We’re not having dino nuggets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We need some variety.”

“Mayo, ketchup, ranch,” Beomgyu replied nonchalantly, as if that was a reasonable combination.

You scrunched up your nose. “That’s gross.”

“And yet, you still kiss me,” Beomgyu said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“Unfortunately?” he said, his voice dropping in pitch as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You didn’t seem to complain last night.”

You immediately flushed, quickly shooting a look around to make sure no one was nearby. “No bed talk in a school zone, idiot,” you shot back, trying to stay serious but failing miserably.

He grinned even wider, leaning in a little closer. “There are no kids here.”

You pointed at him accusingly. “There’s one right here,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

Beomgyu threw his hands up in mock surrender, still chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” But his grin never faded.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the energy between the two of you so effortless, so right. It felt like two years of inside jokes, shared moments, and quiet affection were all wrapped up in this one little exchange. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand tighter as the bus pulled up, and just before it came to a stop, you said, “So, where’s our new apartment gonna be, huh?”

“Well…call me crazy but I’ve already been looking up on some apartments for about a few weeks now and since we’re not in a rush–we’ll be working from home today, by the way,-- and we can check out this new apartment listing I saw.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking aloud, “Hm, I don’t know. Work is kinda my only time to get rid of you.”

“Get rid of me? Baby, you need me.” He said, smugly.

“Alright fine. Is it open right now?”

“The open house ends in 30 minutes we can make it in time.” Beomgyu mumbled, glancing over to his watch.

“Fine.” You grunted.

—

The two of you made your way to the apartment Beomgyu had told you about. A laundry room, an island counter, a big enough living room to do late night acrobatics (Beomgyu does that when he’s drunk sometimes)—it almost felt too good to be true. But as you wandered through the space hand in hand, inspecting every corner, it wasn’t just good. It was perfect. The rent was within budget, and the apartment was a short walking distance from both your workplaces. It felt like everything was falling into place.

Until it wasn’t.

“No. NO!”

Both of you turned sharply toward the doorway, where Yeonjun stood with a look of pure horror on his face.

“I’m not having you two rabbits as neighbors,” he declared dramatically, crossing his arms. “I’ve already suffered enough when I stay over at Beomgyu’s place.”

“We never ask you to stay over,” Beomgyu shot back, rolling his eyes. “You choose to do it.”

Yeonjun scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “It’s not my fault she runs my social media page and always posts updates late at night!”

You shrugged innocently. “Well, if we’re neighbors, we could communicate much more easily, don’t you think?”

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t possibly have the world’s most annoyingly clingy couple living next door to me. It’s a nightmare scenario.”

Beomgyu sighed dramatically and stepped forward, throwing an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders. “Yeonjunnie~,” he cooed, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes. “I love you.”

You grinned, quickly sliding to Yeonjun’s other side and clinging to his arm. “We love you~,” you added, mirroring Beomgyu’s syrupy tone.

Yeonjun looked utterly betrayed, glancing between the two of you as though you’d just sentenced him to a lifetime of torment. “I’m calling Taehyun and asking him to raise the rent,” he grumbled, attempting to shake you both off.

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “You’d betray me like this? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Everything we’ve been through? We’re only friends because this freak decided to date another freak,” Yeonjun retorted, glaring at the two of you.

“Hey!” you pouted, crossing your arms. “Don’t say that. He’s a cute little freak though, isn’t he?” you added with a grin, reaching over to pinch Beomgyu’s cheeks.

“I’m going to throw up,” Yeonjun groaned, looking genuinely pained.

“Don’t do that on my new carpet,” Beomgyu warned, straightening up and swatting your hands away.

“What do you mean, your new carpet—wait…no.” Yeonjun’s eyes widened in horror.

“Yes.” Beomgyu smirked smugly. “Hi neighbour!”

“Fuck this shit! I’m moving out,” Yeonjun declared, throwing his hands in the air and storming toward the door.

“Love you too, Yeonjunnie~,” Beomgyu called after him, laughter bubbling in his voice.

“Enjoy your new carpet,” Yeonjun shot back, slamming the door behind him.

—

Beomgyu sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a paintbrush like it was a weapon, his cheek already smeared with a streak of light blue. “Baby, stop!” he warned, narrowing his eyes at you.

“You painted my face first?!” you exclaimed, holding up your own paintbrush, dripping with pale yellow.

Before he could react, you swiped the brush across his nose, leaving behind a bright streak. Beomgyu gasped dramatically, dropping his brush to grab yours, but you jumped up and dodged, laughing.

“Come back here!” he yelled, chasing after you around the room.

You yelped, trying to escape, but he caught you around the waist and spun you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “Hm, I win.” he said triumphantly, dipping his finger in paint and smearing a heart on your cheek.

“Gyu!” you squealed, trying to wriggle free, but he only held you closer, grinning at his handiwork.

“Perfect,” he declared, his face close to yours now. His grin softened as he looked at you, his hand resting on your cheek. “Okay, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever painted.”

Your laughter faded into a warm smile, your heart fluttering. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and dipped your hands into the blue paint. Pressing your palms gently against his lips, you smirked. “How about we make green?” you teased.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, dipping his fingers into the yellow paint and smearing it across your lips in retaliation. “Challenge accepted,” he said with a grin.

“We’re definitely going to get serious stomach pains from toxic paint,” you muttered, unable to hide your laugh.

He leaned in anyway, pulling you closer as his hands rested gently on your waist. His lips pressed against yours, the faint, messy blend of colors forgotten in the warmth of the kiss.

After a few more playful smears of paint and an awful lot of kisses, the two of you sat on the floor, finally taking a breather. Beomgyu pulled out a small wooden frame from one of the boxes, holding it up with a sheepish smile.

The bright yellow headphones sat perfectly preserved in the shadow box. “I thought we could hang this on the wall,” Beomgyu said softly, his voice laced with nostalgia.

You stared at it, your heart swelling with emotion. “You kept them?”

“Of course,” he murmured, his tone quieter now. “It’s cute how you gave these to me on our first anniversary, don’t you think?”

“Well, you did say the theme was memories,” you said with a small smile. “And I think meeting you is one of my favorite ones.”

“Who are you, and what have you done to my mean and sarcastic girlfriend?” Beomgyu teased, his lips twitching into a playful grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Remember how sweet you thought I was in the beginning?”

“You were sweet. For like…the first two months,” he said, feigning deep thought. “Your true colors came out right after I introduced you to Soobin.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve been mean way before that,” you laughed. “It’s called trying to impress the cute boy I liked.”

“You should win an Oscar for that performance,” he quipped.

“Against who? You?”

“Oh, please,” he shot back with mock indignation. “I’ve never pretended. I’m 100% authentic.”

“Laid back? Remember that? You were all like maybe I am laid back.”

“I am!”

“Baby, you scream and jump around the apartment until 2 a.m. You’re a menace.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not laid back,” he said, grinning. “Just means I’m loud.”

“Very loud. You’ve been pretending to be a soft boy this entire time, haven’t you?”

“You caught me,” he admitted with a laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

After a brief struggle with the frame, he finally managed to hang it up on the wall. “Tada!” he announced proudly.

The two of you stepped back to admire it, your shoulders brushing as you stood close together. Beomgyu slid an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “Welcome home, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm and tender.

“Welcome home, Gyu.”

#txt fic #txt oneshot #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu x reader #tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu au #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x y/n

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duckymcdoorknob · 2 days ago

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dUCKY HI ITS ANON PALM LONG TIME NO SEE >:3

o saw you’re into blue lock now :33333 can we have some Isagi x reader in time for Valentine’s Day

THANKYOU

PALMMMMMM HAI :)

It’s so good to hear from you again!! I hope you enjoyed your holiday!!

AND YES IM A FERAL CHILD FOR BLLK NOW RAGHHHH YOU HAVE @giggly-squiggily and @ticklish-n-stuff TO THANK FOR IT

Taglist: @fanfic-chan @chrimsss @myreygn

This is gonna be my own AU. Blue Lock happened and everyone is all happy and friends and yay and they all happen to go to the same school ok

Word count: 3.5k

The freshly fallen snow is always a wonderful sight to behold. Wintertime adorns the trees with white, twinkling powder, bringing forth the sounds of crunching ice and giggling kiddos. What winter also brings is the skin-nipping, unbearable cold.

Granted, the cold can be a wonderful experience. Snowball fights, ice skating, warm drinks and cookies, snuggling up with your closest people, fluffy blankets, and cozy scarves are all to be had.

However, for you, the cold is an enemy you try to fight. You always insist that you’re not cold, opting to be outdoors without a coat or any sort of winter gear. Hell, Kunigami looked at you sideways the first time you met. You were dressed in short sleeves despite being able to see your breath in the air.

Every winter goes the same way: you refuse to acknowledge the dropping temperatures, and Isagi waits for the inevitable, “okay… maybe I am cold…”

He knows it will happen; it happens every year without fail. In the twelve years that Yoichi Isagi has known you, there has never once been a winter in which you survive your cold strike.

He can’t help but smile, knowing that this year will not be any different.

The sky yawns a beautiful cerulean, the golden sunlight illuminating the fresh snow that crunches beneath your feet as you walk. Upon arriving at school, you notice Chigiri and Kunigami chatting idly at an outdoor table. The redhead rests his chin on his palm, a soft smile on his face as he listens to every word the other says to him.

“Hey, mind if I cut in?” you hum, causing the two to look at you.

“Always,” Chigiri hums, scooting a bit closer to Kunigami to make space for you. He instantly leans toward him more, his head on the taller male’s shoulder. “My God, you’re like a space heater.”

Kunigami chuckles, opening his arm and allowing the redhead to slot in against his side. “There. You warmed up now, princess?”

“I won’t hesitate to bite you, you oaf.” The words from Chigiri’s lips hold so much venom, but the sigh of relief that leaves him gives away his true feelings.

You chuckle, exhaling in satisfaction as a hit of winter wind bites your skin. Your eyes close, a peaceful smile on your lips.

“You aren’t cold, (N/N)?” Kunigami’s soft voice breaks your tranquil moment.

“Mm mnh,” you answer. “I am absolutely, positively, 100%-“

“-cold.”

A familiar chiming voice cuts off your sentence, the sound of snow crunching alongside the gentle giggles of your seated friends causes you to perk up. “Ha-Ha, you’re soooo funny, Yoichi,” you grumble.

Isagi only hums as he walks up to you with a smile. A warm drink was soon placed into your hand, and you take notice of all of the winter gear he was wearing. You chuckle, rising to your feet and tracing a finger over his gloved hand.

“You’re decked out like there’s been a blizzard. It’s barely 10°C (50°F),” you say with a scoff, pulling his beanie over his eyes.

“Agh! Hey, you little-!” Isagi pulls his beanie up with an eye roll. “10°C is COLD, thank you very much. Some of us aren’t human space heaters either.”

“No need to be so grouchy. I have another arm,” Kunigami cuts in.

Isagi shoots him a glare, frowning lips hidden by a large scarf. “That’s not what I- ugh. Are you idiots ready to go?”

“Not yet,” Chigiri murmurs, still squished against Kunigami’s side. “Bachira isn’t here yet.”

“When have we ever waited for him?” you argue with a murmur, plopping back down on the seat of the table. “He’ll be late to his own funeral, I swear.”

Before anyone can respond, Bachira’s chirping voice calls out to the four of you. He wears a huge smile as he runs through the field of white beneath his feet. “Hiiiiiii guys! Good morning! Can you believe how much snow we got last night?!”

“Good morning, Bachira,” Chigiri hums. “Glad to see you’ve actually dressed appropriately for the cold this time, unlike someone…” he turns to you with a cocky smile, and you only stick your tongue out at him.

“Oh, yeah! It’s real chilly out today, isn’t it? I can totally see my breath in the air. Lookie lookie!” Almost instantly, the golden-eyed boy exhales audibly, his breath condensating in the open air.

You and the others smile at him, with Isagi slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“(N/N), it’s cold! What are you not wearing?” Bachira asks with a pout.

“What do you mean?! I’m perfectly content the way that I-“ a gust of subzero wind blows harshly against your body. All of the hairs on your arms stand up as you quite literally freeze on the spot. “am…”

“Like I said, I have another arm. Princess here seems perfectly content to be- OUCH! DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST BITE ME?!”

“I tried to warn you.”

You huff, flexing your fingers as a shiver wracks your body. You shake your arms a few times, trying to brush it away. You will NOT concede; this year is going to be your-

“Scoot over,” Isagi orders.

You oblige, creating less space between you and Chigiri, who seems perfectly content to be warming up the way he is. Isagi sits down next to you, mirroring Kunigami’s earlier action. Almost instantly, you lean into his body, clinging onto his jacket with an annoyed huff.

“Honestly, (N/N), you need to take better care of yourself. It’s okay to admit that you’re cold,” Yoichi murmurs, rubbing your arm with his hand. “You’ll catch your death if you don’t start dressing properly.”

“I’m not cold,” you rebut petulantly.

“And I don’t play soccer.”

“That’s not fair. I’m not cold!”

“You’re practically melting into his side there,” Bachira coos, coming behind you and rubbing your shoulders teasingly. “If you’re not cold, there must be a different reason you’re leaning into him so much~!” He giggles as you shoot him a glare as icy as the ground.

You roll your eyes, leaning into Isagi more. Luckily, the newfound warmth on your face helped to fight the winter’s cold, and it seemed that Yoichi had no protest to having you so close to him… No, no, don’t be delusional.

“Well, I for one am ready to get out of this weather. Shall we head inside?” Chigiri’s voice sounds over your impending inner monologue.

“Huh- wh- yeah! Yeah. Let’s go inside,” you hum, not making any effort to move away from your personal heater.

“Seems like we were both lying through our teeth I guess,” the redhead hums, having not moved an inch either.

You giggle, gasping with an exaggerated pout as Isagi moves to stand up. He offers you two gloved hands, which you happily take and help yourself stand. When the action was done, he keeps one hand interlocked with yours, claiming it’s “to keep you warm.” All you can really think is that Yoichi is holding your hand.

Soon, everyone is up on their feet. Isagi and Kunigami walk on your left, talking ecstatically about an intense soccer game that they had either watched or played in—you aren’t quite paying attention.

Bachira and Chigiri are to your right. Chigiri’s listening fondly to the half blonde telling him horror stories of his times in the kitchen. Again, you’re not really paying attention. (However, you did catch Kunigami sneaking glances at Chigiri, smiling like an idiot whenever he would so much as laugh at something.)

Your mind is a mess as you walk, focused on how touchy Isagi has been today so far. You absentmindedly squeeze his hand, leaning against his shoulder when he does it back. From an outsider’s point of view, it would look like the two of you are- WOAH! WOAAAAAH! PAUSE! Get your head screwed on right, (Y/N)!

All things considered, you can’t help but smile as you walk with them to class.

By the end of the day, the temperature has only seemed to drop more. You instantly cringe as the permafrost brushes against your skin. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoichi. He frowns, slipping his hand into yours once again, as if it were second nature, as if it were a totally natural, knee-jerk reaction.

“Come on, (N/N), let’s go find everyone else, okay?” he hums softly, rubbing his thumb over the base of your own. “I swear, you’d freeze to death without me here.”

You only can follow after him, focusing on how soft his touch is…

When you catch up to Kunigami and Chigiri, you’re all waiting on Bachira… again… The two shoot each other a smirking side-eye when they notice your interwound hands. You look at them with a poorly hidden, dopey grin, yourself shaking your head slightly in disbelief.

“So, you giving in yet, (N/N)?” Kunigami asks you with a soft chuckle. “You’re looking pre-tty cold there.”

“Nope. I’m not cold!” you hum, despite the shivering state of your body.

“They have me to thank for that,” Isagi cuts in, squeezing your hand slightly.

At that moment, Bachira does what he does best and somehow spawns behind the two of you. He drapes himself over the two of you, leaning against your backs with his arms around your shoulders. “Ohoho! Isagiiii~! You sly dog! Holding their hand so publicly?! You’ve got guts, man!”

You just about jump out of your skin from the sudden voice. You turn your head around with a patient smile choosing to ignore his teasing comment. “Hi, Bachira. How was your test?”

“Ughh soooooo boring! I finished it in like five minutes, so I had almost an hour of free time. The field is totally covered in snow. I had enough time to build a snowman!” Before either of you can protest, you and Yoichi are dragged along together, due to your interlocked hands, with Kunigami and Chigiri following close behind.

The half-blonde’s snowman is a… sight to behold. the sticks for the arms are far too large, and he had stuck butter crackers into it for the eyes, blueberries for the mouth and buttons. You want to ask why there’s one missing from the mouth, but amidst his jabbering, he notes that a bird came by and snatched it up before he could stop it.

“It’s… something,” Kunigami mumbles.

“Isn’t it awesome?! It makes me feel like a kid again,” Bachira hums, dropping onto his back and making an angel in the snow. “We haven’t been able to just play like this in such a long time. Oh! I miss being so young and carefree~!”

“He does have a good point…” Chigiri mumbles. With the tie on his wrist, he pulls back his long red hair, tucking it under his hat. He lays down in the snow next to the half-blonde, chuckling softly at the Cheshire grin he’s met with.

“Join usssss!” Bachira chirps, beaming the remaining three of you a close-eyed smile. “It’s so fun!”

You want to protest, but Kunigami shrugs with a soft grin, joining Bachira and Chigiri in the snow. Yoichi only rolls his eyes. “You’re all children.”

“You too can be a child for the price of one snow angel!” Bachira chirps in reply.

“No way. I’m not getting all snowy.”

“See, you claim that. But, can you really be sure?” Chigiri hums innocently.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it right now.”

“I’m not thinking anything. You’re just on edge for noooo reason,” the redhead says with a chuckle.

“Hyoma-“

“Yoichi-“

The two are interrupted by a sharp battle cry by Bachira. He jumps to his feet and tries to pull Isagi down into the snow, but the bluenette only dodges effortlessly. You watch with a fond smile as the two work the snowy field like an empty soccer pitch.

“You two are so totally obvious,” Kunigami teases. He stands up and offers a hand to Chigiri, who takes it with a smile. “You’re such a cute couple.”

“W-What?! We aren’t-“

“(Y/N),” the two say simultaneously, giving you an exasperated look.

Before you can argue, you notice that Isagi’s hat slipped off his head in the midst of the “fight.” You quickly rush over to retrieve it. When you bend down to pick it up, you hear rushing footsteps behind you. Within seconds, a huge mound of snow fell atop of your head and down the back of your shirt.

Your body instantly seizes up, and you whip around with dangerous, wide eyes. “W-Who th-the hell d-did i-it?” you stutter, body turning to total ice. “I-I’m go-gonna fr-eak-king k-k-kill-“

“Oh God, (Y/N)!” You had never heard such fear in Yoichi’s voice before. His hands instantly find your shoulders, brushing the snow off of you. He looks at you with concern while Bachira looks at you with immense guilt. “You stay here. I’ve got stuff in my bag for you.”

“W-W-Why d-do yo-ou-?”

“You always swear you’re not cold, but I know you, (N/N). Every year, without fail, you tell me you’re cold. What kind of man would I be if I wasn’t prepared for when you finally admit it?”

The comment leaves you dizzy, and your heart starts to pound. You barely register him calling for Chigiri and Kunigami until they’re standing at your side. The three boys don’t hesitate to start wiping the snow off of you, with Kunigami’s warm hands getting the powder out from the inside of your shirt. His hands gently brush along the skin of your back.

“Hey, g-guys, uh-“ you mumble.

The three look at you with confusion as you watch Isagi rush to grab his things.

“Is Yoichi… um seeing anybody?”

Everyones’ hands halt when your words register. They all rush to stand in front of you, looking at you in confusion.

Bachira giggles sweetly. “Yeah! He sees us all every day!” He teases sarcastically, knowing fully well what you mean.

“No, no, I mean like… is he dating anybody?”

The half-blonde looks at you dumbfounded, as if you had just spoken to him in a foreign language. “Wait, what? You’re not messing with us? You actually mean that-“

“Why are you all looking at me like that?!” you ask in exasperation.

“(Y/N), are you two not dating already?!” Bachira asks, genuinely shocked.

You feel your breath stop in your lungs. This is news to you for sure. Were you two actually together, and you didn’t even realize it? There’s no way! “You’re screwing with me, right? Yoichi does not like me like th-“

“(N/N), he’s literally running to get you the hat, gloves, and scarf he’s kept in his bag since I’ve known him,” Chigiri deadpans.

“Right. And, truth be told, no guy would be so touchy with someone he doesn’t like,” Kunigami notes.

“You guys are-“

“That’s different,” Bachira hums. “We give you hugs because you’re our friend. We don’t do it because we like-like you; at least, I don’t.”

“That’s right, friends. Friends are pretty touchy with each other!” you try desperately to argue.

“(Y/N)…” Kunigami murmurs. “He literally held your hand earlier for at least fifteen minutes. Plus, he let you lean on him when you were cold.”

“You let Chigiri do that!” you whine. “He was all snuggled up into your side earlier, and you two aren’t-“

The two look at one another, sighing, then back at you, locking their hands together with eyes half-lidded. They look at you as if you’re stupid, waiting for it to click.

Your defensiveness sobers as you relax a bit. “Oh.”

The two chuckle, with Chigiri rolling his eyes. “I mean, even Bachira put it together.”

“Hey! I’m so much smarter than you give me credit for,” the half-blonde whines.

“Says the guy who thought putting butter crackers in an open field was wise,” you rebut.

“I won’t hesitate to shove more snow down your back, (N/N).” His voice somehow drops to a deadly serious one, only in a matter of seconds. “You’re in for a rude awakening if you think I’m kidding.”

You hold your hands up in defense. “Woah there, calm down, Tiger. I’m trying to warm up, not get more cold.”

“Ha! So you admit it,” Isagi’s voice finally sounds. His breath condensates in the air as he huffs and puffs, clearly having run faster than he had all day. “Here, don’t move.”

“I can put it on mys-“

“No way. I can’t trust you to do anything for yourself. It took getting snow dumped down your back for you to finally admit you might be affected by the weather.” Yoichi takes off his glove and takes hold of your hand. “I mean, seriously! Your hands are like ice for crying out loud!”

You can’t help but smile softly, deep down loving being fussed over by him. The bluenette mumbles out an angry ramble at you, carefully dressing you in the winter gear.

“I keep telling you to dress warm, (N/N), but nooooo,” “You never ever want to listen to me.” He places a scarf around your neck, securing it into the collar of your shirt. “It’s like the universe planned for you to get totally frozen to teach you a lesson.”

You watch intently as he takes your hand, sliding a glove on it. He holds the other glove in between his teeth as he continues to mumble about how you’re “being irresponsible with your health,” and how you’re “gonna end up sick,” and how he “hates how whiny you are when you’re sick.” Both gloves are now on, and he shrugs his coat off, wrapping it around you and pulling your arms through it. He zips it up with a huff.

Finally, he grabs the hat he brought and places it on your head. He pulls it down with an exasperated exhale. He then places both hands on your temples and kisses your forehead angrily. “There. Better now? Are you warming up?”

The three boys watch silently, biting back smiles smiles. You on the other hand…

“I-“ you blink, unspoken words stuttering on your lips. “Y-Yeah.”

Yoichi’s mind seems to sober when he looks down at you. His face erupts into a deep blush. “I- I didn’t- I- uh- you- we-“

His cute babbling was interrupted by Bachira nailing him in the side of the face with a snowball. “Oh you little-!”

You shoot a wink at the half-blonde, flashing him an evil grin. Before he can rationalize, you wrap yourself around Isagi’s middle, pulling him down on the ground. He lands with his arms on either side of your head. “RUN BACHIRA!” you squeal.

The bluenette groans at you. “What the hell was that for?! Are you okay? Did I crush you or anyth-“

You roll your eyes, smiling up at him. “Had to give him a head start, Y’know? He could barely catch you last time.”

Yoichi rolls his eyes. “Sometimes, you’re just as insufferable as him.” He rocks back onto his knees, then gets to his feet, offering you a hand. You take his hand with a cheeky smile.

“Stay here, okay? I don’t need you getting another load of snow dumped on you,” Isagi hums. It seems like clockwork when he holds your head and kisses your forehead for the second time. He begins to stalk off toward Bachira.

“Hey, Yoichi!” you shout.

Isagi comes bounding back toward you. “Yeah? Yeah? You okay?”

“No! That’s the second time you’ve missed, idiot!”

“Missed?! What do you-“

The bluenette is cut off by you cradling both sides of his face and connecting your lips for a kiss. His hands find purchase immediately, one wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer, and the other holding the side of your own face.

You kiss him as if you’d waited years for it, and it seems as if he’s doing the same. When you pull away, everything tells you to go back in. You look into his eyes like a lovesick puppy. Oh boy… a conversation is going to have to be had. “Go get him, Loverboy,” you coo, flashing him a sweet smile.

Isagi runs off with a stupid grin on his face, shouting Bachira’s name. You, in turn, take a seat next to Kunigami and Chigiri, snuggling into Isagi’s jacket a bit more. Kunigami opens his arm, and you rest against his side, cheek squished against his shoulder.

“God, he really is like a space heater,” you murmur.

“Told you,” Chigiri murmurs, cheek squished all in the same way.

You sigh, watching contently as Yoichi successfully catches Bachira, tackling him to the ground before smooshing a snowball in his face. You cringe at the thought of how cold he must be.

But, with a boy like Yoichi Isagi in love with you, you feel like you’ll never have to fight the cold again.

✪ ——— ╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ. ——— ✪

#🌴 anon #Fresh & Clean #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #Isagi x reader #Isagi imagines #yoichi isagi #isagi yoichi #Yoichi Isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #yoichi isagi x y/n

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