#izna jeemin users | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosiehrs · 6 months ago

Text

WHRAUVSAUGSAUSUATRARAFQCWVSHXJAIIAUABWBEJABDIABXIABZUSHXISBCIDNXISNXISBSIJSJDKANSHAUSUSHDISIXODKSNSOCNDOSNAIDJAISJSIAJAIXIJSIXNSIXNSIXNDIXBSNSNSISJSIDHSHS THE SWEATER W HER NAME. THE LOLLIPOP. THE POKING. 'our son'. JEEMIN MEETING THE PARENTS. 'ive always wanted to be friends with you' JEEMIN FLIRTING. 'you like me?' THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT. JEEMIN WRAPPING ARMS AROUND WAIST????!!?! OH MG CISBCJSNDJ

TEENAGE FEVER — bang jeemin x f!reader

three adjectives came to mind when you thought of bang jeemin; irritating, annoying and unfortunately pretty. only when a particular feline comes into your life, jeemin tags along barreling too.

TAGS — fluff, enemies to friends to lovers, very minor enemies, almost rivals but jeemin’s silly, suggestive at times, oblivious!yn

WORDCOUNT — 5.9k

if there was one word to describe bang jeemin, it would be insufferable. the girl could prance around the school, slapping every single teacher (that was an exaggeration) and she could still roam free afterwards. it was infuriating being her lab partner, having to clean up every other mistake while she dazed off. a comment sight to see, jeemin would constantly zone out, leaving you to do all the work in class. she was the worst possible thing to ever come into your life.

or so you thought. it had been a simple monday when bang jeemin showed up to chemistry with bruises on her legs and scratches lining her arms.

when she sat down, there was a visible wince flashing across her face. reluctantly, you whispered, “you okay?” jeemin glanced at you and didn’t bother to answer, her brows furrowed together.

fine, you thought, i don’t care.

only when the teacher had finally finished his demonstration and you were about to start the practical, jeemin turned to you, mouth agape but no words coming out before resorting to just quietly stare at you with a solemn expression.

tired of her staring, you asked, “can you help out for once?” jeemin puffed out her cheeks and nodded. the sight… was strange. the bang jeemin you knew would never do such a thing. mainly sticking to cold looks and annoyed glances at others, you had never caught a glance of a pout on her face. she was known for being a cold beauty. it was rare to catch the slightest of expression other than indifference on her face.

while you watched as jeemin picked up a vial filled with substance and a flask of sugar, your eyes widened when you noticed the label on the glass. potassium chlorate.

“jeemin!” you yelled, grabbing her wrist before she caused a mini explosion in the lab. startled, she dropped the flask onto the floor, alerting the teacher.

“is everything okay there? what happened?” mr lee asked, walking over to the both of you. you felt jeemin tense up and her pulse began to speed up. while you were thinking of explanations for your mistake, jeemin had crouched down onto the floor, picking up the glass pieces.

a whimper caught your attention and your eyes zoomed in on a small cut on your lab partner’s finger.

“don’t touch the glass,” you exclaimed, pulling jeemin up and examining her finger before turning to mr lee, jeemin’s wrist still gripped tightly in your hand, “i’m so sorry, mr lee! this was my mistake, i accidentally scared jeemin and she dropped the flask.”

“i didn’t…” jeemin tried to say but you shot a glare at her to keep quiet. mr lee sighed, exasperated. “be careful next time.” you nodded, almost cutting off jeemin’s blood circulation with how tight your grasp was.

mr lee handed you a dustpan and you kneeled down to sweep up the mess. already annoyed, jeemin decides to add fuel to the fire, whispering quietly in your ear, “why did you do that?”

you shot her an incredulous glare, “i stopped you from exploding the lab, dumbass.”

jeemin huffs. you finish sweeping up the glass shards and the contents previously inside the test tube. your lab partner does nothing more but send you brooding gazes. you’re tempted to strangle her. after dumping the mess away, you spot jeemin wincing at the cut left behind. a trickle of blood slowly drips into the sink. her face turns pales as she watches it flow.

“stay still,” you mutter, pulling out a bandaid from your pocket and gently wrapping it around jeemin’s finger. the girl only stares, not pulling away.

“you must be clumsy,” you remark, “did you fall down the stairs or something?” jeemin scoffs, “of course not.”

you let go of her finger.

“why the hell did you show up like you got into a fight? the fuck could you be fighting? the demons in your head?” you gesture at the cuts littered across her skin.

jeemin groans, throwing her head into her hands, “i’m not going to talk about it! shut up.”

“i’m just trying to help,” you raise your hands up. jeemin scowls at you, but it slowly disappears as she examines the bandaid you had wrapped around her finger.

“hello kitty..?” she mutters, “are you six?”

you glare at her. so what if you liked hello kitty? the cat was cute! and you love cats! jeemin was just being mean for no reason. you couldn’t understand how the girl had suitors of both genders lining up for her hand. she was literally a satan incarnate.

“i’m not hearing that from someone who has the coordination of a baby giraffe,” you retorted back. your lab partner frowns and huffs as she turns away from you. your eyes are drawn to the pout on her face. immediate alarm bells ring in your head when your first thought was how cute it was.

“stop sulking and help me out,” you instruct, pouring liquid and chemicals from one test tube to another. jeemin, finally, looks up from her notebook, and lends you a hand. her compliance led you two to finishing early, even after the incident from before. you wouldn’t say you were a genius, just better than average at chemistry. and maybe jeemin was slightly alright. you had achieved the correct results from the test and mr lee even praised you.

finally having a moment of peace, you sigh, contented, sitting down on the stool. jeemin, however, decides to ruin it by prodding you with her bandaged finger.

after being the victim of jeemin’s poking for several moments, you turn to her, eyes blazing with fury.

“what?” you hiss.

jeemin cowers slightly. you soften up, not expecting the girl to back off. a second passes as jeemin gulps.

“thank you, for uhm,” her cheeks turn red, “taking the blame when it was my fault. and for the bandaid, even if it’s lame and you should grow up.”

the burden forced onto your shoulders lessen. your posture relaxes.

“it’s whatever,” you say, not wanting jeemin to see how her soft tone affects you. could you really stay mad at the girl when she’s looking at you with her big, round, doe eyes? no, of course you couldn’t.

seeing her downcasted eyes after your cold reply, you can’t help yourself from adding on, “thank you for apologising.”

jeemin’s eyes flicker back up, nodding meekly. a smile tugs at your lips.

you don’t talk to her for the rest of the period.

and you don’t notice the lingering looks she sends you either.

“—i heard jiyoon unnie and jungeun finally made up,” saebi rambles. you barely hear a word, while sarang converses with her enthusiastically. you’re more focused on the basket of fries on the table.

“what were they even fighting about again?” you ask.

“i think it was something stupid,” saebi straightens up, “but wait, you know the rumours about jeemin unnie secretly being in a gang?”

you’ve heard of it. they were the most baseless rumours ever. the jeemin you knew grows faint at the sight of blood. there was no way she could be in a gang. unless she was a very good actor, or stupid. probably the latter. the imagination of her in a gang was lunacy.

“i wanna be friends with jeemin,” sarang sighs dreamily, “y/n’s literally partners with her and you haven’t introduced us before!”

saebi nods, “jeemin unnie seems really cool.”

your perception of jeemin can’t be anymore different from your friends. jeemin was literally the bane of your existence. screw her and her good-looking face that always shot daggers at you. everyone that ever liked her was blind.

“she isn’t,” you blurt out, “she’s a loser.”

saebi and sarang only shrug your hostility off.

“you always say that,” the tallest frowns, “apparently koko saw jeemin in a dark alleyway and she was holding a mysterious bag. also, she always has those cuts and bruises!”

you smack saebi’s head, guffawing, “you trust koko?”

the girl whines and attempts to hit you back, but her attempts go futile as sarang rants about her next class. as your two friends complain, you think about saebi’s observation. even in chemistry today, she showed up with multiple scratches. was that from fighting someone? no way, you could exhale and jeemin would fall over. that girl did not stand a chance against anyone, despite her domineering height. she was like a paper doll, you think.

it’s only when you get up from the table you feel a warm splash of liquid trickling down your shirt.

“oh shit, sorry dude,” a guy, you’re not sure who he is, backs up, his eyes widening as your white shirt almost turns sheer and translucent. your two friends, dumb and dumber, merely stay rooted to the ground, mouths agape in shock. you let out a groan, hastily trying to absorb the liquid with some tissue paper that saebi had thrown at you.

sarang, who’s laughing at your misfortune, says, “at least it’s just water.” you glare at her, and then the boy in front of you.

“I’m really sorry,” he offers a lame apology. you nod, tired and frustrated. you didn’t have a change of clothes and the outline of your bra was becoming increasingly visible.

brushing past the boy who was still staring, you head towards the washroom swiftly in long strides. finally reaching the washroom, you stare at your reflection in the mirror before sighing and trying to use paper towels to rid the water. maybe if you soaked most of it out, the rest would just evaporate and dry naturally. your hands dab at the fabric repeatedly, but to no avail.

whilst engrossed, you don’t notice the washroom door opening.

“oh,” you roll your eyes internally, instantly recognising the voice.

“what?” you hiss at the girl. jeemin stands at the door, her eyebrows furrowed as she gazes intensely at your shirt. her eyes zero in on a particular spot.

your cheeks redden and the urge to throw a chair at her stupid face shoots up.

“stop staring at me, pervert!”

“i-i’m not! don’t accuse me of such things!” jeemin splutters, her eyes immediately snapping back up to meet yours.

“you were literally looking at my bra, you pervert,” you cover your chest with your hand.

the taller girl shakes her head vehemently, “it was just the first thing i saw! that’s not my fault.”

her flippant attitude only makes your mood worse. despite her previous remarks, her next words are full of worry and concern, “do… do you need another shirt?”

you have two choices. either walk around with a transparent shirt and be humiliated by everyone’s gaze, or take jeemin’s shirt and be humiliated by her only. well, your disdain for the girl can only go so far.

“give me your shirt,” you state through gritted teeth.

jeemin nods and hurries out quickly. you’re left wondering what have you done wrong in your life to deserve such an unfortunate sequence of events to happen. you send a text to your friends, telling them that you were just getting another shirt and that everything’s fine. they don’t even reply. your top was clinging to you uncomfortably now. how much water was in that cup? whatever, you just hope jeemin comes back soon.

a sudden thought hits you.

what if jeemin was pranking you and she wasn’t coming back? oh my god, it would be such a jeemin thing to do—

the door swings open again.

jeemin holds out a folded sweater.

“it’s not really a shirt…”

you snatch it from her, “whatever, thanks.”

she sends you an awkward smile that morphs into a grimace as you wriggle your arms through your own shirt.

“wait—”

you throw your wet shirt onto the sink, leaving you in just your bra before slipping on jeemin’s sweater. the taller girl lets out a sound akin to a muffled gargle of words. sending a curious look at jeemin, your face flushes as you realise what she has witnessed.

in your haste to rid yourself of the uncomfortable feeling, you had forgotten the fact that jeemin was still very real and standing there. and that she had seen you in your undergarments.

“don’t you dare say anything,” you warn, pointing an accusing finger at jeemin, who merely cowers and nods meekly. unable to stand the shy gaze she directs at you, your feet carry you out of the washroom, hand gripping onto your shirt and the other adjusting the neckline of her sweater. it was warm and soft (and maybe it smelt like the girl left behind in the washroom).

you walk towards your locker, some curious looks lingering on you. maybe they had seen what happened in the cafeteria. you finally spot your two friends at your locker. sarang’s eyes light up in amusement at the new piece of clothing article adorned on your body.

“hey,” she says teasingly, “what were you just saying about jeemin?”

saebi laughs, almost choking on her own saliva as sarang spins you around, reading the words embroidered on the back of the sweater loudly, “i-land dance, bang jeemin.”

your head snaps behind, neck craning desperately trying to catch a look of the wording. no wonder everyone was looking at you!

“are you dating her or something?” sarang continues. you feel an increasing urge to rip out your hair. a hazy vision of jeemin’s smug smile emerges in your mind. damn, she must have known it displayed her name so visibly. what the hell was she thinking?

“no i’m not and shut up!” you snap, irritation seeping into your words. your friends don’t heed your words and continue making sly remarks about the sweater hanging off your shoulders. the previous feelings of warmth and comfort disappear and instead return as a heavy burden that you carry around for the rest of the day. every lesson, you can feel the burning stares of your peers, eyeing the ginormous words on your back. most were curious, probably wondering about your relationship with the dancer, but a minority were envious, no doubt the long line of people courting jeemin.

you throw your head into your hands, feeling a brewing headache caused by jeemin. unfortunately for you, chemistry wasn’t the only period you spent with the bane of your existence.

a familiar finger pokes your side.

you resist the impulse to actually throw a chair at jeemin.

for some god forsaken reason, somehow, in every class you shared with the girl, she was seated very closely to you. maybe you really had done something wrong in your past life and this was god’s way of tormenting you. it is a good punishment though, forcing you to constantly be in the close proximity of a migraine personified.

your hand clenches your pen. there’s a strong desire to stab jeemin with it (you were exaggerating, you wouldn’t go that far).

“what do you want?” you ask, massaging your temple.

jeemin’s eyes dart away and a soft but strained, “I’m sorry,” comes out of her lips.

“for?”

“mai told me everyone was staring at you today, uhm, because of the sweater…”

you sigh, shaking your head, “whatever.”

jeemin falls silent at your reply. you bask in the peace for a while before she tosses a small object onto your table. you eye it inquisitively. a tiny lollipop shaped into a heart with a piece of paper tied around it with a rubber band. you stare at jeemin curiously as her face heats up.

untying it, you read the words, ‘i heard you like sweet things.’ the neat handwriting written carefully with precision makes warmth bubble slowly in your stomach. yet, unlike previous times, it wasn’t hot with anger or annoyance, but something akin to affinity and endearment.

the bell rings and jeemin is staring at you expectantly.

you nod at her apology and unwrap the sweet treat, eagerly putting it in your mouth. it’s strawberry. you wonder how jeemin knows. the girl packs up slowly, her gaze flickering to watch you every so often. you do the opposite, keeping your eyes steadily focused on shoving your pencil case into your bag.

taking one last look at jeemin, you pull the lollipop out of your mouth and mutter, “see you tomorrow.”

you don’t stay long enough to watch her face light up with surprise.

an unfortunate part of not partaking in any sports extracurriculars was that you had to take the initiative in staying fit. there wasn’t any training forcing you to run laps or do burpees, hence the reason you were putting on running shoes at six in the morning. a regretful consequence of not joining any sports back in your first year but at least you didn’t have to run rounds around the field every week. at most, you went on a run in particularly good moods. and perhaps the lingering taste of that sweet strawberry flavour boosts your mood enough to endure a sweaty morning run.

you had to clear your mind anyway from thoughts that gravitate around the tall dancer. since when did you find her luscious black hair and luminous skin so attractive? and when have you ever felt something else for her other than murderous intent?

someone must be performing black magic on you because there was no way in hell you could develop any form of attraction for bang jeemin.

taking the same route you do every time, you appreciate the greenery and serene nature that surrounded your neighbourhood. you felt at peace with every metre you ran. well, if peace meant the lingering thought of jeemin.

your eyes trail over the various shades of green splattered around, lips twitching upwards every time you spot a puppy being walked. despite your distaste for any physical activity, running has become sort of a meditation for you. koko had mentioned it offhandedly, saying that dancing provided getaway time from the daily stressors in her life. you wonder if jeemin feels the same way.

ugh, you really couldn’t go a second without thinking about her.

inching closer to the bakery that you would always get your breakfast from, your ears perk up at the sudden meows that penetrate the quiet peace. looking around hastily, you locate the sound coming from a dark alleyway right in between the bakery and another shop.

induced with concern (and fear, what if you got kidnapped? you’ve seen kidnappers lure people with children before, who’s to say they haven’t done it with animals?), you peek around the corner warily. a figure, hunched over, covers the source of the sound. was this person doing something to the cat?

“what are you doing—?”

the person jolts up and falls down from their crouching position. you splutter with laughter accidentally. on the ground, fallen, you get a good look at the person’s face.

“bang jeemin,” you ask in surprise, “what are you doing here?”

the stranger, or jeemin, merely stares at you in shock, her big round eyes widened as she tightens her grip on a heavy bag of cat food.

“uh, i’m feeding…” jeemin gestures to the cat who’s eagerly chewing on its kibble, “meowie. i’m not allowed to bring him home.”

meowie? what type of name was meowie?

all danger signs of getting too close to jeemin fly out your head the moment you lay eyes on the cute cat. a tiny bombay cat. what a cutie!

“meowie? you couldn’t come up with a better name?” you ask, gently stroking the top of his head, just behind his ears. jeemin’s own ears flush red, “he just meows a lot! i couldn’t think of any other names.”

“how long have you been feeding him?”

jeemin’s gaze looks away, a face full of contemplation, “maybe… for two months?”

you’re instantly reminded of something saebi had said, or more so koko. jeemin, in a dark alleyway, holding up a mysterious bag. you laugh internally at the absurdity of it all. of course the girl couldn’t have been in a gang, she was just feeding a cat. you couldn’t believe how stupid people were to think that this loser could possibly be in a gang.

“sometimes when it’s raining and there’s thunder, i can’t visit meowie and i think he gets scared,” jeemin mutters, setting down the bag of cat food, “and what if he gets bullied by some kids or other big cats?” it’s such a stupid thought but you sense the worry in her words.

her eyes full of sadness and concern drives an unprompted stake into your heart. when she looks at you, it’s the pouting of her lips that causes the dam to collapse.

“i can bring meowie home,” you cringe at your own words, full of confidence, “he’ll be safe with me.”

jeemin’s entire face lights up and she beams at you happily, “really?! oh my gosh, that would be awesome!” your first thought fucks up your entire world.

you would do anything to have jeemin looking at you like that.

when did you associate bang jeemin with euphoria instead of hatred?

you didn’t have time to figure that out now. there was a literal cat purring into your palm, snuggling the extra warmth. jeemin is still brimming with delight, humming contentedly as she watches you interact with meowie. in your head, a realisation comes to mind, that spending time with jeemin wasn’t so bad after all.

over the next few days, the girl had accompanied you to get necessities for finn, his new name because meowie just wasn’t cutting it. you bought his bed, more food, some toys.

(“does he really need that many options to choose from? he’s a cat, jeemin,” you ask, pointing at the stack of wet food she had placed in the basket.

“our son needs to make his own choices!” you had briefly choked on your saliva when she referred to you two as ‘our’.)

jeemin had also whined about getting an outfit for him. hence the reason why he was currently dressed up in a shark costume, padding around the house. she had constantly spent her afternoons at your house, playing with finn and spending time with the cat. apparently, she wasn’t allowed to bring any pets home, despite her apparent love for dogs. you had engaged in a heavy debate about dogs or cats but ended up concerning when she brought up finn.

with more time spent at your house, it also held the implication of spending time with you. jeemin had become such an integrated part of your life that honestly, you really couldn’t imagine not seeing her every day. even in school, when you didn’t have the same classes and you could only catch a glimpse of her in the hallways, you would exchange shy smiles and waves, unbeknownst to your two nosy friends who were more engrossed in other things.

saebi had commented on your sudden glow, unfortunately, asking if you were dating anyone. sarang then shut down her question instantly, stating that a loser like you won’t be able to find a partner so quickly. maybe she was right.

you had also introduced jeemin to your parents, as per their wishes of wanting to meet the co-parent of finn. obviously, they loved her. your mum had whispered to you after jeemin left, saying she would love her as a daughter-in-law. you could only gape after her disappearing figure.

finn’s meows bring you out of your reveire. jeemin’s gleeful laughter combined with the domestic feel of the entire situation had launched you into fucking outer space. this whole feeling was unknown.

“y/n, isn’t he so cute?” jeemin giggles, continuing to snap a multitude of photos of finn, who was staring at his owner very indifferently.

you nod, not wanting to risk your voice cracking.

“he’s adorable! finn, come here!” the girl grabs the cat, hugging him closely. your eyes are drawn to her delighted face as she sighs happily.

a moment passes as you just watch jeemin cuddle with finn. she then turns to you, a pleased look on her face as she exclaims, “he looks kind of like you, don’t you think?”

your first instinct is to defend yourself. finn was a stupid cat who did stupid things, like constantly tripping over his toys despite being a cat, which last time you checked, is meant to be agile. is she insinuating that you looked stupid?

“you look like a dog,” you retorted instead, “maybe even a bear, but like a silly bear.”

jeemin scoffs, smacking you on the shoulder after letting finn roam free. “i do not look like a bear,” she says indignantly.

“ouch, you hit me really hard,” you whine, “it hurts, jeemin.” the girl actually looks a bit regretful and worried as she stares at your sore shoulder.

“does it really?” she asks, inching closer to check your bare shoulder. your shirt was slipping off, exposing your collarbone. her hand lifts to press against the redness, caressing it softly, “oh, it’s actually turning red!”

your face turns as red as your shoulder. you watch as her eyelashes batter and flutter, analysing your skin. her fingertips trail from where your neck meets your shoulder to the top of your arm.

“bang jeemin, are you a pervert?!” you shriek, pulling up your shirt and pushing jeemin’s hand away, “why do you keep feeling me up?”

“that isn’t…!” jeemin yells, “i’m not doing that! i was just worried! can i not be worried for my friend?!”

you’re unable to control your laughter at jeemin’s flabbergasted expression, aghast with indignation as she helplessly explains herself.

“so we’re friends now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow and nudging her with your ‘hurt’ shoulder.

jeemin flushes before rolling her eyes. yet, she says softly, “i’ve always wanted to be friends with you.”

it hits you then, that jeemin, unassuming and awkward, could only interact with you through glares and hesitant movements. her zoning out during class was probably her thinking of ways to talk to you, if the way she gaped at you was any indication. you had taken it as a sign of disdain and dislike. it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“really?” you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. jeemin’s eyes follow the movement before she nods bashfully. smiling, you mutter under your breath, “that’s cute.”

jeemin returns a smile as finn meows at you.

“I’m happy we’re friends now,” she suddenly admits, “i’m happy we can just talk freely and take care of finn together.”

“i’m happy too,” you grin playfully, “i thought you were a prick.” jeemin, thankfully, doesn’t seem too affected by your words, only shaking her head in faux disappointment, “i wanted to be your friend and you call me a prick?”

“i mean, you didn’t really help much during chemistry,” you offer gingerly, afraid to actually anger the girl.

jeemin groans, flopping onto her back on the floor as finn claws at her arms, “i was staring at you but you always looked so upset and pissed!”

that’s true. even your friends had commented on your resting face.

“that’s not my fault if you don’t like my face.”

the girl frowns, staring at you, “i do like your face.”

wait, what?

“what about the sweater, huh?” you choose to ignore her, pointing an accusing finger at the girl, “giving me your dance team’s sweater with your name on it! are you searching for trouble?”

jeemin’s hair covers her face partly, but even the redness of her ears and cheeks peek through the dark curtains as she murmurs out, “you looked good in the sweater— my sweater.”

a second passes.

“uh, great?” you blurt out. as soon as the word had left your mouth, you wished desperately for god to smite you down. the unamused look on jeemin’s face doesn’t help to ease the awkwardness either. what a thing to say to a compliment! not even a thank you.

a heavy tension falls and you’re left fiddling with your hands as jeemin slows her pats on finn, who ironically, seems to have a smile on his tiny face.

“uh—” you attempt to defuse the tension but jeemin beats you to it, interrupting, “i think i got to go, it’s kind of late.”

you nod, unable to even utter a single word. your mouth just opens and closes uselessly as you watch jeemin pack her things up and leave a lingering kiss on finn’s furry forehead.

silently, you wish she had done the same to you.

“see you soon, y/n,” jeemin smiles, smaller than before but still retaining her natural cuteness. your heart aches at every metre she steps away. why were you so stupid and reckless with your words? jeemin had been extremely sincere but all you could say was ‘great’?

finn’s tiny teeth nibble into your skin as you bemoan about your stupidity. damn, you really should apologise.

despite your previous wishes of keeping your blooming friendship (and feelings) with jeemin a secret, it was getting harder and harder to keep your friends in the dark. but the look of utter shock and glee on their faces make you slightly regret your decision in revealing it to them.

saebi and sarang had been extremely unhelpful in constructing an appropriate apology. with sarang’s useless quips of serenading jeemin, (“you do know i can’t sing right?” you had said. sarang shakes her head, convicted, “it’s the thought that counts!”) and saebi’s equally ineffectual drafts of apology letters that could pass as love letters, (“saebi, i am not telling jeemin that our souls are entwined and when i inhale her, my body quivers with bliss,” you crushed the offending paper, disgusted. the younger girl only rolled her eyes and shouted, “it’s romantic!”), you had basically no idea how to apologise.

maybe you should find the wisest girl you know. eyes perking up at the sight of mai walking past, you quickly grasp the opportunity to grab ahold of her. unfortunately, and maybe to your friends’ amusement, jeemin was right beside mai. jeemin sends you a curious look but you hastily explain, “i need to talk to mai unnie, just for a minute!”

jeemin slowly nods, as if understanding (and like a cat!). mai raises an eyebrow at you, a gentle and encouraging tone as she asks, “is everything okay?”

you gulp, “i need your help.”

the faint snickers of saebi and sarang reach your ears. you send them the most threatening glare possible, but you probably just look like a fool.

“with what exactly?”

you eye jeemin and drag mai to a corner as your two idiot friends start chatting jeemin up in their own quirky ways.

“i kind of messed up and i’m pretty sure jeemin’s upset with me, but i really need to know what’s the best way to apologise to someone,” you exhale.

mai nods, a contemplative look as she offers, “i think jeemin doesn’t need a grand apology or gifts. she’s not one to hold grudges and as long as it’s sincere and truthful, i think that she would appreciate it regardless.”

it fits her. a pure and endearing person like jeemin would want a simple apology. it’s understandable. you feel immense guilt brewing when you remember how hard it was for jeemin to make friends at the start of the year. she was a transferee from another school and if not for some mutual friends, perhaps she would have ended up a loner.

“thank you, unnie,” you say with all the genuineness in the world. mai pats your shoulder and whispers, “good luck.”

you head back with mai, more confident this time. jeemin was giggling at whatever saebi and sarang were talking about. you hope that they haven’t said anything about you. god, that would be the worst. maybe sarang would even pull up that photo of you from middle school—

“oh hey, y/n! we were just talking about you!” saebi grins. you clench your fists by your side, resisting the urge to smack her. forcing a faux smile, you ask through gritted teeth, “oh really?”

turning to jeemin, she fails to stifle a smile and that’s when you know they’ve shown her the unforgettable photo of you.

“whatever, jeemin come here,” you roll your eyes, “i want to talk to you.”

the girl mentioned points to herself, “me?”

“is there another jeemin here?” you ask sarcastically. sarang nods, “i’m ryu jeemin.”

“shut up, sarang. and come here,” pulling jeemin away from your nosy friends, you bring her out of the hallway and into an empty classroom. luckily, most of the students had left already and you weren’t competing with the chatter from the crowd of people outside.

jeemin sat comfortably on a table, leaning back with her hands behind her.

“what’s up?” she asks, you can’t help but notice the hint of wariness in her tone.

taking a deep breath, you start, “i’m sorry for the way i reacted to your words the other day. i don’t know if it was your intention to like, flirt with me for fun or you actually have some form of feelings but i reacted strangely and poorly.”

“it’s okay—”

you place a hand gently on hers, “i just want to ask you something.”

“uh, go for it?”

“do you like me?”

jeemin withdraws her hand almost instantly, as if burnt and scorched, “what?!”

you frown, “you don’t have to react like that.”

“no— oh my god,” her voice is muffled by her face being buried in her hands, “i mean like, i didn’t know i was being that obvious!”

“oh. well, that’s good.”

jeemin lifts her reddened face up, staring at you with hope and adoration (how have you never seen this before?), “really?”

“yeah, would be really awkward if you didn’t like me when i like you.”

“you like me?” she repeats.

you nod, “yeah. i don’t know how or when it started but yeah. i just know that i want to stay by your side and be the one who makes you smile.”

it’s easy and refreshing to admit, because it’s true. almost possessive, you wanted to be the only one who got to have jeemin; who could hear her laughter, witness her beautiful smile and was allowed to hug and kiss her with love.

“that’s,” jeemin croaks out, “good.”

you tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “yeah?”

she hums in agreement.

“i liked wearing your sweater, by the way. and i like your face too.”

“i can give my sweater to you and i like your hello kitty bandages,” jeemin says, a loopy smile engraved on her face. you store the memory of her smile into your brain.

“i would like that. do you want me to wear it every day? let people know i’m yours?” you ask teasingly. the girl actually seems to think before nodding firmly.

jeemin grins, her pearly white teeth showing, “that would be nice.”

“wow, and what should you do in return?”

“i’ll tattoo your name on myself,” she jokes as she hops off the desk, “imagine my forehead saying ‘my girlfriend is y/n’.”

you shove at her lightly, “i’m your girlfriend?”

jeemin’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer and into her embrace, “yes, no backing out now.”

you throw your arms over her shoulders, giggling, “i’m fine with that.”

“that's great ‘cause i’ve liked you ever since you put on that lab coat,” your girlfriend (girlfriend!!) admits.

basking in the afternoon glow and warmth of jeemin, your heart feels contentedly full with affection and adoration for the girl. it only felt right to be in her arms.

you couldn’t believe you were saying this, but jeemin was the best thing to come into your life. thank god for finn.

#(🖨️) reblogs!#izna x reader #bang jeemin x reader #i started contorting in bed #THANK U USER JENSCX.

330 notes · View notes

yerimbrit · 4 months ago

Text

guess who? : b. jeemin

synopsis: the very first day that you take over morning announcements, you have to read an anonymous confession letter! and it's addressed to you! wait, what?

# : pairing ! nonidol!bang jeemin x stuco!reader

# : tags ! dedicated to the amazing @nwjnsloona, loser!jeemin, putting that in bold was necessary, fem!reader, highschool!au, featuring izna members, mentions of other iland 2 cont., fuko plays a minor part in this, fluff, user yerimbrit sneaks a red velvet mention... are we even surprised

# : wordcount ! 7.1k

# : warnings ! none

out of all things you expected the student council president to request of you, substituting her for the morning announcements was most definitely not at the top of the list.

you like being the secretary. no, really. you consider yourself as an avid note-taker, and organizing things is one of your fortes.

being the stuco secretary meant that you didn't have to be the face of stuco. that's fuko, the president. see, fuko is a lovely president. she's pretty, she excels at her job, gets along with everyone, and so on.

of course, you admire fuko. so does practically the whole student body.

...it also meant that when she fell ill and asked (texted) you to fill in for her, you readily accepted.

it's not like you're shy or anything. it's quite the opposite. you just didn't like being in the spotlight. talking to others is fine, but being in the center of attention? yeah, that's a no-go.

so, here you are, tiredly holding up a paper script as you prepare to bore everyone with nothing but the usual reminders to clean up after themselves at eight in the morning.

...just kidding!

as soon as the clock strikes eight, you clear your throat and turn the intercom on. you even fix your hair, even though no one else is in the room except the vice-president mai, who sends you an encouraging thumbs up.

"good morning everyone! i'm y/n, your student council secretary. fuko-unnie is out sick, so i'll be taking over until she's back," you read out, eyes trailing over the next lines. mai smiles proudly at you, and you reciprocate the gesture.

you go over the usual mundane reminders (such as picking up your trash, and the assembly at the end of the week) and finally get to something interesting.

"onto something more exciting, the fall festival is at the end of next month!" you say enthusiastically, at least as much as you could in the hellish hours of the morning, "food, games, performances, you got it! club officers, please submit a filled out booth form or performance form to the student council office at least two weeks before the date."

flipping to the next page expecting to see the outro lines, you're surprised to see something completely different. confused, but still needing to read the script, you squint at the printed words on the last page. "lastly, we're launching a new program for the daily announcements: anonymous confessions."

mai makes brisk strides towards you, slipping a paper envelope onto the desk, sheepishly tapping on it and tilting her head. you open it, continuing the announcement. "we've received a few submissions since the initial announcement which was posted on our instagram page, and today we're reading the first one."

the first thing you notice is the neat handwriting printed on the lined sheet of notebook paper. you clear your throat again, blinking your eyes rapidly to try to focus on the words.

"dear y/n,

i've thought about what to say in this confession, but i can't seem to find the right words.

i really, really like you! i've liked you since last year. you've just got this way about you that draws me in—your smile, your laugh, the care that leaks into each of your actions, your music taste... everything, actually.

whenever you look at me or talk to me, i feel like my heart is going to burst. i admire you a lot. even if you don't like me back, i hope we can stay friends!

your admirer,

j.m."

the further you get into the letter, the more you feel your face burning, from your neck up to your ears. mai's jaw is slacked, and honestly, so is yours. it's one thing to confess over the daily announcements. its another for it to be addressed to the one announcing it.

"u-um, wow! thank you, anonymous!" you cough, "i'm... flattered? a-anyway, that's it for the announcements. have a good rest of your day!"

as soon as you hit the 'stop' button on the control panel, you slump over the desk and harshly bump your head in the process. the vice-president sympathetically pats your back and leaves you alone in the room.

however, there's only one thing swimming around in your mind. obviously, it's 'who is j.m.?' and 'why me?'

you don't think you're going to hear the end of it from your friends.

"hey, lovergirl." is what you hear the second you're close enough to your usual lunch table. you smack jiyoon's shoulder as you sit down next to her with your food, greeting sarang and jungeun across from you with a smile.

jiyoon's got her assortment of foods laid out on the table, the younger two already helping themselves. she insists that her family just makes her bring all the food, but you can tell she's all the more happy to share with you.

"who do you think it is, y/n-unnie?" sarang asks after taking a sip of her drink.

who do you think it is? you've seriously got no clue. you tell her exactly that, and the conversation launches into a full-blown guessing game.

"jiwoo?" jungeun starts, "no, wait, the letter said j.m. right?"

sarang rests her chin on her palm, humming. "jimin?"

"she graduated already," jiyoon states with a straight face.

jungeun giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. "then could it be you, jiyoon-unnie?"

"don't!" the targeted girl turns beet red in embarrassment. "don't be ridiculous. plus, it's j-m not j-y."

you're halfway through with your lunch, almost tuning the other girls out. there's only one person who matches the intials that you can think of. but it's impossible, you haven't even held a proper conversation with her since maybe last year.

sarang slumps over and tilts her head up, pouting at you from below. you resist the urge to either a) pinch her cheeks or b) initiate a staring contest, to which you'll lose, because she always cheats without fail.

"do you have any clues?"

a voice calls out for you before you could answer the younger girl. "hey lovergirl!"

three girls approach your table. mai, who casually waves at you, koko, who greeted you, and jeemin.

jeemin. j.m. but it could just be a coincidence, right?

"stop calling me that," you wave at the three. mai nudges koko, who only grins. "and hi, what brings you guys here?"

you and your friends scooch over to make room for them, koko and mai sitting opposite of you and jeemin taking the only available seat which is right next to you. the rest of jiyoon's food is silently distributed to the newcomers.

lunch continues but you can't help but notice that jeemin is avoiding your eyes. she also hasn't said a single word to you, which is weird and frankly, and out of character for her. usually she'd at least manage a 'hello'.

you reach over and pinch her arm, eliciting a flinch from her and a startled yelp. her voice after comes out in a whisper. "w-what?"

"are you okay?"

"yeah."

she quickly turns back to her food, shoveling some rice into her mouth. unfortunately, she also starts choking, which causes mai to rush to give her a waterbottle, and for everyone at the table to start staring at her.

the girl catches her breath after taking in some water and shakily raises up a thumb, as if she hadn't almost died from eating too fast.

the rest of lunch up until the end, you notice out of the corner of your eye that jeemin is not-so-subtly giving you puppy-eyes. it's so obvious that even jiyoon raises a brow whenever she looks in your direction. and you can clearly see sarang whispering about it to jungeun, indirectly pointing with her chin.

suddenly, you think your suspicions aren't quite off. they are very correct. she's definitely suspicious. jeemin, that is.

the next few days consist of your regular schedule, except now you have what is essentially a sixth sense for whenever jeemin is around. it's easy to tell, really; she's always burning holes into your back with her puppy-dog eyes.

last year, you and jeemin were seatmates in homeroom. sorta. you sat in front of her for the whole year, in the back of the class next to the window. a classic main character seating. the girl was shy, sure. but that initial barrier had been broken down as soon as you offered to share some of your matcha pocky with her.

during the year, you'd share more of your snacks, and sometimes she would also bring her own to share. you'd discreetly pass notes back and forth, whether it'd be about whatever the teacher was talking about or random things like the new milkis flavor or whatever.

on some occasions, whenever there was a break, you'd sit against the back wall of the classroom and listen to music together. at first it was uncomfortable to move around while sharing earbuds, but the both of you had grown used to it. it was like a fleeting getaway—no one bothered you. a brief period of relaxation.

you wouldn't exactly call her a close friend; you almost never hung out outside of class. but it was a cherished connection, for sure. after the school year ended, you naturally grew apart since you never got any of her socials. but before the earlier confession announcement, you would wave and maybe exchange a greeting whenever you'd see each other.

jeemin's shyness never went away, even now as she avoids interactions but looks like she wants to talk to you so badly it might kill her.

so yeah, you're 90% sure that jeemin is the sender of the letter. it's a bit shocking, you've always thought that she's cute but you didn't think that the time you spent together was enough to develop any feelings. at least for you. you aren't one for crushes; they were probably at the bottom of your priorities when it comes to your life. but... they're not unwelcome.

that only half-explains why you're waiting outside of the performing arts room after finishing up some student council work. you didn't have to wait long; some of the other members took on fuko's work and told you to go home a bit earlier. it also just so happens to be around the time dance club's practice usually ended.

you're mindlessly scrolling through your instagram feed when the door swings open. and speak of the devil—it's jeemin, in the flesh! though she doesn't notice you yet because she's still looking behind her telling someone to shut up.

when she turns to face forward, her expression shifts into what seems to be a mix of shock and mortification. her mouth opens and closes as if she were a fish. "oh! y-y/n, fancy seeing you here!"

through the open door behind her, you can see everyone trying their best not to laugh, including koko and even mai. you flash a closed-mouth smile. "hey, jeemin."

the girl stammers before letting out a very awkward, "wassup...?"

you stifle a giggle, but widen your eyes in concern when you hear a thump. you can barely see koko and sarang dying in laughter before jeemin abruptly slams the door shut.

"what's! up," she asks, leaning against the door.

her smile is forced and her eye is twitching, it'd be cute if you didn't have something to ask of her. oh well. "do you wanna hang out? we've never hung out outside of school, i was thinking we could get some ice cream or whatever you're up for."

there's no answer, but she is turning into a whole tomato with how hard she's blushing.

"jeemin?"

"yes!" she replies quickly, before blinking rapidly and fixing her practice clothes. she's probably going to say something about changing back to her uniform before accepting your offer.

jeemin reaches behind her for the doorknob, still facing you. "i mean—yeah! yeah, i'm free. i just need to, uh, change out of my practice clothes sorryjustgivemeasec—" see? what did you say?

she twists the doorknob and pulls the door open and back, but what's unexpected is your very own ryu sarang tumbling out like a prize from a gachapon machine. why is the practice room door double-action? also, sarang?

both you and jeemin are staring at the younger girl in confusion. said girl scratches her head and gets up like nothing happened, enveloping you in a big, warm hug. "hi unnie! i missed you..."

you're taken aback, but you return the hug. "hi sarangie, we just saw each other earlier."

jeemin glances at you and sarang still hugging with a slight look of resignation, and shuffles back into the practice room to get her bag and change somewhere.

"are you okay?" you mumble, fingers carding through sarang's hair. you feel her nod, and pull away when jeemin returns. "i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"mhm, see you. have fun on your date jeemin-unnie, y/n-unnie!" the younger girl waves and skips back into the room.

the door shuts again and the taller girl is avoiding your gaze. that won't do, will it? you tap her shoulder and grin up at her, not missing the tinge of red settling across her cheeks and coloring her ears. "ready?"

"mhm, yeah. totally. ice cream?"

"ice cream," you nod.

ice cream it is.

you find yourself making this—stopping by the dance club after you finish your work—a regular thing. if there wasn't any practice, you'd wait outside of her homeroom and pick up jeemin to head off to wherever the wind takes you.

so far, you've taken jeemin to the local ice cream parlor, the park, a bakery, and other classic date spots. and on top of that, enjoyed a very nice weekend going bowling and watching her try to impress you in front of mai and jiyoon. the poor girl had tripped over her feet in an attempt to bowl a strike like she planned, but ultimately landing her ball in the gutter.

today is a regular weekday, nothing out of the ordinary. fuko has, thankfully, recovered from her sickness and lifted the task of morning announcements off of your shoulders. during your brief time as the announcer, there hasn't been any other love confessions, but more boring ones that you can't even name off the top of your head.

truthfully, spending all this time with jeemin has undoubtedly changed your way of thinking. you notice all the little things about her, like the way she pokes her tongue against her cheek when she's lost in thought, or how sometimes she unconsciously lowers herself whenever you're side by side. at first it almost offended you, but it did make it easier for you to link your arm with hers.

the girl is still a little shy, but she's evolved to taking your hand in hers first! that's totally baby steps. maybe she'll even grow out of blushing and looking away after five seconds of eye contact. cute. she's now saved in your contacts as "j.m." followed by a bear emoji and a blue heart. and the contact photo is a candid photo you took of her petting a dog, enamored by the samoyed puppy. so cute.

you're organizing files after school while fuko and the treasurer look over some paperwork. there's a lot of planning needed for the upcoming festival—because of this, you had texted jeemin prior that you'd be late.

what you didn't expect is a knock on the door, revealing bang jeemin herself, freshly changed into her uniform.

"jeemin," you stand up from your seat. "what are you doing here?"

she perks up at the sight of you, but shrinks back when she meets the eyes of fuko and the other council member. "i, um. wanted to pick you up this time. i-if you're not busy, that is."

you purse your lips. you've already sorted through the majority of the files, but there is still a report to be written.

the president clears her throat, eyes softening when you peer over to her. "i can take care of the rest of your work, y/n. you know, as a thank you for doing mine while i was out."

"are you sure?" you frown. fuko has always been giving. a little too much, you might add. as the president, she has the most paperwork out of all of the council; you wouldn't want to add to that stack.

she waves her hand, practically shooing you away. "i'm sure. go have fun, lovergirl."

"unnie, please don't call me that. i've had enough of it already with everyone else."

fuko only giggles and winks at you as you pack up your things and walk over to where jeemin is stiffly standing. grabbing her hand and waving to you fellow student council members, you drag her out with her before she can scramble to bow to them.

"do you want to go anywhere in particular?" you swing your interlocked hands between the two of you playfully.

jeemin shakes her head, looking ahead. "i picked last time, so you should today."

internally, you swoon. so charming. so considerate. you never thought you'd be feeling this way for bang jeemin, the quiet girl that sat behind you. but a part of you feels guilty that you've been knowing she was behind the letter. and that she's unaware of that fact.

"can we go to the bookstore, then? i've finished a novel and i want to get the next part of the series."

"i..."

"hmm?" curiously, you glance at the taller girl, whose cheeks have dusted pink. "jeemin?"

she meets your gaze with an intense one of her own. "i don't mind the place as long as i'm with you..."

oh. that's new. that's not shy, timid jeemin. that's total heartthrob jeemin. oh. oh dear.

your heartbeat speeds up, and you just have cover your face with your free hand to hide the blush that is growing by the second.

"you're a dangerous woman, bang jeemin."

"huh!?"

the bookstore is a comforting place; it's quiet, there's a reading nook with fairy lights, and sometimes the owner brings their cat barbie, a calico who loves to waltz around the place.

occasionally, you stop by when you can't be bothered to order online. why? because it's always more fun to browse through the catalogue in person rather than amazon, right?

jeemin holds the glass door open for you like a gentlewoman, and you just have to curtsy as you walk in. the action makes her blush, so it's worth every second of your brief embarrassment. you hear a faint meow come from a distant corner of the bookstore and grin, crouching down to greet the cat.

"hi, barbie!" you coo, scratching behind its ears. jeemin stands statically by you, not knowing what to do. you giggle at the sight of her eyes darting around like she'd been caught or something. "jeemin, don't just stand there... you can pet her, she's friendly."

the taller girl sheepishly crouches down, hesitantly reaching out her hand to pet the feline. it sniffs her hand for a moment, but then pounces at her and launches a full-on attack: scratching, biting, the whole shebang. jeemin yelps in pain and shock, moving her arm away but unable to get the cat off.

you can only stare, speechless, before trying to pry away the cat away from the girl in distress. "barbie! barbie, no! i thought you loved everyone!"

the next few moments are spent wrangling a cat who absolutely abhors jeemin for some unknown reason. you swear it's friendly, barbie was the best! maybe jeemin has a cat repellent on her. or maybe she is the cat repellent.

so, yeah... the owner of the bookstore heard the commotion from the back and had to come in to take barbie away, apologizing profusely to both you and jeemin.

"i'm sorry," you sigh in guilt, sticking (ironically) barbie themed bandaids onto jeemin's wounds in the reading nook. "she really was friendly, she loves everyone who comes in, even jiyoon-unnie."

jeemin frowns. "i guess i'm an exception. you're not making fun of me by using barbie bandaids, are you?"

the question is so funny to you that you almost laugh out loud. "no, i'm not. i'm glamorizing your boo-boos."

the tips of the girl's ears tinge red. cute. "what's your novel about?"

a smooth topic change. "hm? oh, it's a thriller. it's about these five girls killing each other, but the illustrations are super cutesy."

"what?" as expected, she's taken aback. who wouldn't, at how casually you were describing it?

"er... you'll get it if you try it. it's an interesting read, made me gasp a few times. the next book is about them killing pizza men."

"um..."

"i think it's an acquired taste... do you feel better?"

you tap each bandaid that was meticulously placed on each scratch and wound, totaling to a whopping nine areas. jeemin gives a neutral response, clearly trying to act tough, but you go ahead and plant a kiss on each bandaid anyway.

"that surely cures your pain, don't you think?"

no response. you glance up at jeemin and, ah, yes! the tomato is back, unsurprisingly. you giggle and take her non-injured hand, standing up and leading her to the horror section of the store.

and of course, here's the thing: this specific series is uber popular. it's a hit or miss whether or not you can even find it in stock. you honestly didn't think you'd have a big chance of encountering it; it was mostly an excuse to bring the girl you've been growing a fondness for to one of your sanctuaries.

jeemin follows after you, staring in wonder at just how many books are stored and displayed neatly on the wooden shelves. there's a whole section dedicated to the red velvet series, the one you were talking about. you weren't really reading it in chronological order, which is off-brand of you because, and you cannot stress this enough, you love to be organized. unfortunately you discovered the series through a book that wasn't the initial release, so it can't be helped.

your eyes dart around, trying to match your mental image of the book you were looking for to any of the ones on the shelf. there's a lot. psycho, bad boy, russian roulette (the one you just finished), and more. but you can't seem to find... ah. peek-a-boo. and just your luck, it's on the very top section of the shelf. out of your reach.

it's humiliating to go on your tip-toes, straining your arm as you reach for the book, that is until you feel a presence from behind you, and seeing an arm easily grabbing the book you had your eyes on. turning around, you're faced with the view of jeemin's gray graphic tee, before looking up and meeting her bashful gaze. you're close. close enough that you could just lean in and kiss- okay, you're getting off-track.

your face flushes a deep red, and you step to the side in an attempt to hide yourself, clearing your throat. "thanks, jeemin."

"um, yeah. of course." the taller girl is as blushy as you, averting her eyes as she hands you the book that started this whole scene.

when the two of you check out and leave the establishment, there's only one thought echoing throughout your mind.

that is, bang jeemin is a dangerous woman.

it's a random day after school—a filler day as you like to call it—and you don't have anything planned with jeemin but you pick her up nonetheless. today's jeemin is a little more timid than usual. that's fine with you, of course, but you can't help but feel like your relationship has backpedalled.

even more so when she turns to you with a sad but very hopeful face, and says, and you quote: "i'm the one who wrote the letter."

well yeah, you know that already. and you tell her exactly that... maybe not exactly that. there's a lot of emotions you feel with this delicate topic, and you have to express those to her.

"i'm so sorry," you take her hands in yours, earnestly looking her in the eyes. "i already knew. just—just let me explain, okay?"

the girl looks confused, bewildered even. your guilt is eating you up whole. but your feelings are true; you're starting to like jeemin, in the way that she likes you. and you don't want her to think that you've been playing with her after receiving the letter.

"i've always thought you were cute, since the first day we met." you start, "but we'd never spent enough time together for me to develop any deeper feelings than that. you were more than a hallway crush, but less than a crush, you know?" you say all in one breath, hoping she doesn't take your own confession the wrong way.

you continue. "with all the time we've spent as of lately, i've gotten more than enough of the time for those feelings to bloom."

"oh."

oh. is all jeemin says. a good oh? a bad one? how are you supposed to know?

you won't get to know because she bites her bottom lip and walks away.

'damn it.' you curse in your head. 'you should've told her from the start, y/n. damn it.'

jeemin avoids you the entirety of the following day. you pretend it's not bothering you, but it's so painfully obvious to the others and yourself that it is affecting you. no texts back. no waves in the hallway. no visits during breaks. not even a single glance towards your table during lunch.

there's a jeemin-shaped hole shot through your heart, and it aches. if this is the result of no contact for a day, you think you're doomed.

you find yourself walking around campus with a glum aura surrounding you. jiyoon inconspicuously sends you pictures of puppies during class, hoping to silently cheer you up. which is silly, but you appreciate her efforts nonetheless.

after school, jungeun intercepts you on your feeble attempt to drag yourself to the dance club, and buys herself and you a strawberry milk from the vending machine near the school entrance. as thanks, you pat her head and walk her home, promising to treat her to a meal later.

and for the first time in a while, you're tossing and turning in bed. you didn't think jeemin had that much of an effect on you, but you stand corrected. it's kind of pathetic. you feel pathetic. not pathetic like jeemin after an intense workout, but pathetic like you can't live a day without her. and it has quite literally only been a day without her.

in your desperation to "catch some Z's" you hit up sarang. and sarang, oh so lovely sarang, sends you an hour long documentary about bears, which did not help.

(because admittedly, you watch the whole thing—beginning to end—and can only think about jeemin, the whole time.)

your one-day-hell abruptly ends during break when someone raps their knuckles against your desk, which consequently has you tearing your eyes away from your phone and up to the person—oh, it's jeemin.

oh. it's jeemin? (!) (!?)

"jeemin!" you stand up from your seat, wide-eyed and hands fumbling around to find a place to rest. they end up in your pockets, and you clear your throat of any phlegm before smiling. "hey."

"hey," she waves. the break is about to end, so she has to make whatever she's going to say quick. "our dance team is performing at the festival..."

you know that already. you are, in fact, the student council secretary, but you don't remind the dancer of that fact, waiting for her to continue.

jeemin looks down, mustering up all the courage she has. you can almost see it manifesting, what with how hard she's clenching her fists. "so, please watch me! i'll c-capture your heart with my charms!"

the statement is so ridiculous that you just have to laugh out loud. it sounds like it's straight out of a manga, the way she shouts it out loud for your whole class to hear. which by the way, is now staring at the two of you.

your laughter causes jeemin to shrink back (because who says that unironically?) but then you smile warmly at her.

"i promise i will."

and it's worth the embarrassment of having the whole class watch a part of your love life, because jeemin's face completely lights up and she flashes you the biggest smile you've ever seen her smile and runs off right before break ends.

the festival is in two weeks. and you're so looking forward to the dance club's performance.

recovered from the one-day-hell of jeemin deprivation, you're happily back to talking terms with the dancer. she's taken to staying behind longer to practice, which means you don't go out together for now. you don't take it personally, you've also been busy with secretarial duties.

sure, you're exhausted. but you know for a fact that the end product is absolutely going to be worth it, judging by the ones you've attended in the past. food stalls, various club attractions, and most of all the performances. seeing everyone's hard work come to fruition in person is amazing.

unfortunately, with everyone interested, it brings more work for the student council. budgets, club information, performance slots, booth availability, and more; every day feels like a marathon for your poor brain. after all of this is over, you'd really just like to take a giant nap.

mai's been juggling student council work and dance practice, keeping an even tighter schedule than before; there's more rigorous routines to perfect, and even more planning for the festival.

and speaking of the dance club, you've been pumped up ever since jeemin's corny declaration, looking forward to how she would charm her way into your heart. which, she already has, but knowing jeemin... she'll surpass your expectations in the best way possible.

sarang and saebi (another tall girl from dance club, who you don't talk to much but are acquainted with) catch you as you walk out of the student council room. they're in their practice clothes, presumably taking a break because they came out of the restroom across from the council room.

out of courtesy, you walk them all the way back to the dance club. it's pretty much a crime, how there's such a long way to the restrooms from the performing arts room. you try to convince yourself that the scenery makes up for it, with student art and posters adorning the walls and somewhat motivational quotes painted on the walls above the lockers. there's flyers advertising the upcoming fall festival everywhere, like a reminder being laser-beamed into your hippocampus.

you tuck your hands in your pockets, directing your gaze to the two girls to your right. "how's practice?"

saebi lights up, and you feel so blinded by her smile that you have to physically divert your eyes to recover. "it's going great! our routine is really coming together, i'm so excited to perform."

beside you, sarang narrows her eyes playfully. "you're not trying to get a spoiler out of us, are you?"

what? no, that's preposterous. you would never do such a thing. "yes."

"i think you got your thoughts and speech mixed up, unnie."

you don't need to defend yourself because after what felt like an eternity, the three of you have arrived safely at the performance arts room. taped to the door is a handmade poster that says 'come watch the dance club's performance at the festival! day 2, @ 1pm, main stage.' surrounding the text is a bunch of animals in various art styles, presumably drawn by different members of the club.

the door is shut, but if you listened close enough you could faintly hear the sound of shoe squeaking and some background music.

"that's weird," sarang comments, "everyone left for break. who could be in there?"

saebi twists the door knob and slightly opens the door. the three of you try to peek at the lone dancer through the open crack with sarang on the bottom, you in the middle, and saebi on top. you shift your eyes, quickly finding the dancer. the girl's movements are fluid, moving to the beat in confidence and determination. trying to identify mystery-dancer, you squint at the mirror and gasp.

the girl is jeemin.

'come to think of it, i've never seen her dance before, but...' a smile makes its way onto your lips. 'she's cool when she dances.'

the impromptu stack disbands and sarang turns to you with an animated smile. "it's jeemin-unnie! she's been working really hard, you know? to impress you."

to impress you? hearing it from jeemin is one thing, but for others to notice too? it makes you feel giddy inside. "is that so?"

both of the girls nod.

"i'll be looking forward to your performance, then," you grin, raising a fist.

sarang raises an eyebrow, opening her mouth to say something but chooses not to. instead, she smiles and waves, dragging the taller girl into the practice room with her.

huh. that was weird.

you adjust the shoulder strap of your backpack. when you get home, you have an email to write, and a spreadsheet to edit. but instead of your work, your mind is overloaded with thoughts that consist of a certain bear-resembling girl whose initials are j.m.

it's d-day! you're supposed to be overlooking the event but fuko (oh so gracious fuko) told you to go off and watch the performances, saying something about how "experiencing the event" is "part of your job". that doesn't really make too much sense in your head, but you get to watch the thing that's been on your mind for weeks, a.k.a. jeemin's performance with the dance club.

the spacious front yard of the school has been completely transformed, with a huge slot of empty space before the almost professional looking main stage that was set up solely for the three-day festival. behind the audience area lies lines of food stalls and carnival games that only a fraction of the attendees can beat. lively student stall keepers holler and beckon people to come over, and some teachers who were forced into a hotdog costume or even an inflatable t-rex costume (believe it or not, there were plenty of those) are standing in front of attractions while holding signs.

you buy yourself some blue raspberry flavored cotton candy, and make your way over to the stage, hoping to get a good view before clumps of crowd form when the performances begin. you pull out a piece of the cotton candy and pop it in your mouth. it's sweet and sugary and- uh, it's just that. sweet and sugary, since cotton candy is entirely sugar and air. the rest of the sweet treat is inhaled by... none of than you, and you throw away the cone before rushing to grab a spot in the very front.

admittedly it is a little lonely, since most of your friends are performing—even jungeun and jiyoon, who are singing a duet together—leaving you alone to watch the show. no matter. they will have your support either way. your friends are very talented, and you'll always be their biggest fan.

fuko and one of your fellow student council members, the popular, bubbly social media manager, make their entrance onto the stage. the cheers that erupted from the crowd—that you didn't even notice formed around you—were deafening, and it was just because the pair walked onto the stage.

they do the usual greetings, do some mc-ing, and announce the first group to perform. there's an entertaining mix of stand-up comedy, magic shows, cover bands, singers, cultural performances, and more, and your chest swells with pride as you intently watch the students have fun on the stage. the festival is always an occasion in which you truly get to see unity within the community; all support, no hate. it's a beautiful thing.

jungeun and jiyoon emerge from opposite sides of the stage, and you scream as loud as you can when you catch glimpses of them in their black outfits. their performance soothe you, bringing you close to tears throughout the song. the girls' vocals come together in a saccharine mix, their voices complimenting each other in the best way you can describe: the epitome of harmony.

at the end of the song, you scream their names again and have to rush to write something on your phone to act as a sign, holding it up high so the girls can see it from their place on the stage. when they do notice it, jiyoon smiles and sends a heart in your direction, and jungeun waves with a toothy grin. yep. totally worth it.

a few more acts later and it's finally time for the dance club to shine. you're so excited you could bounce off the walls, if there was any nearby. once again, the crowd's cheers make you want to rip your ears off, but you join in anyway. you only live once, right?

the dancers get in position, but there's something strange: jeemin's nowhere in sight. you cheer for sarang and koko, who are the only ones you're familiar with in the lineup, and try to enjoy the routine as much as you can, but there's that stinging feeling in the back of your mind, questioning the lack of the girl who claimed she was going to "capture your heart with her charms".

you cheer again at the end of the routine, biting your lip. is jeemin okay? did she injure herself? what happened?

koko takes a mic, catching her breath and smiling. "i hope you enjoyed this performance! but..." she hands sarang the mic.

"don't worry," the shorter girl breathes out, "we still have one, special performance left."

for a brief moment, you swear she deliberately makes eye contact with you when she says special. involuntarily, your heart palpitates and your mind races and- bang jeemin.

bang jeemin, who stylishly walks in from behind the curtain with a stack of fake dollar bills in hand, followed by mai, saebi, and two girls who you recognize as kim sujung and son juwon, known for being incredibly skilled in the field of dance. they all throw their paper bills up into the air, making it rain and effectively gaining screams and cheers from the audience.

the background music—money, by lisa—starts and you can't help but to let your jaw drop, eyes sparkling as you admire everyone's moves, especially saebi's own killing part, and mai's fiery swagger. juwon's expressions are on point, and sujung is just so cool. most importantly, your thoughts immediately fill with 'jeemin, jeemin,' and more 'jeemin' and as soon as you catch her eye, you feel your legs almost give out.

'this girl,' you think, as you notice she is definitely sending winks and directing some of the choreography towards you. no, it is not your delusions. you know this is true. she is looking right at you.

you only feel more amazement when the four dancers move to the side to make way for jeemin's solo. her movements are filled with precision and charm, confidence oozing out with every gesture she makes and every expression she offers. if she hadn't charmed her way into your heart before, she definitely has now with this performance being the tipping point.

this jeemin is different from the timid, bashful jeemin from a year ago. you saw only a small part of this side of her a while ago, but now you get to see it for real.

the group joins back together for the dance break and the outro, and you suddenly feel your throat dry up, managing a weak cheer when jeemin sends the last wink to you. you're so impressed you're speechless. today is definitely a day to remember.

four of the girls make to exit the stage, and you almost attempt to leave the crowd until jeemin taps a microphone and it screeches—not the most conventional way of silencing the audience, but it works. even if it was unintentional on her part.

the dancer flushes red in embarrassment before she tries speaking into the mic. "um, hi. our performance was good, wasn't it?"

the audience erupts in a loud cheer. the corners of jeemin's mouth lift, and you unconsciously mirror the action. "i just wanted to say- uh, i have something special to say. to someone very special in the crowd right now."

she takes a deep breath, clenching the microphone as she slowly takes small steps in your direction. your breath hitches. "y/n. i want you to know that you've got this way about you that draws me in—your smile, your laugh, the care that leaks into each of your actions, your music taste... everything, actually." she laughs. the pleasant sound echoes within your mind; you hope you can hear this sound for the rest of your life.

"whenever you look at me or talk to me, i feel like my heart is going to burst. i admire you a lot."

some people around you gasp. you hear murmurs of, "oh my gosh, jeemin is the sender of that letter from a month ago!" and "it's her!?" all around you, and you've always disliked being the center of attention but you suppose today is a truly special occasion.

you're surprised she doesn't stumble over her words, with the rosy blush on her cheeks spreading to her ears. she continues, reaching the edge of the stage where you've been pushed to the front.

"i put a lot of effort into my performance to impress you, y/n..." she squats down. now you are eye to eye with jeemin and you're afraid that her blush is contagious, feeling a burning sensation on your own face. "so... have i charmed you?"

a microphone is passed to you, and you think all of your decision-making skills have been honed for exactly this moment. you inhale... exhale... and look into jeemin's deep brown eyes. "i must say, that was a rather... entrancing performance."

her eyes gleam, and you're unable to fight off the bright smile that settles on your face.

"and i'd also like to say that yes. you have successfully captured my heart with your charms."

a/n : i love u bang jeemin my favorite loser from izna

#bang jeemin x reader #jeemin x reader #izna x reader #izna imagines #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #gxg #bang jeemin #izna jeemin

123 notes · View notes