#jeongin fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

godslino · 10 months ago

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IN CONTROL | jeongin established relationship. college au. smut. minors dni.

pairing: jeongin x fem!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: explicit content, swearing, soft!dom jeongin, unprotected sex, sex toys (vibrator), public humiliation (kinda), fingering, piv, spanking, creampie summary: jeongin buys a new toy and decides to test it out in the library

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“This is the best idea I’ve ever had.” Jeongin mumbles, his eyes dark, trained on your every move.

Jeongin is a menace, insatiable, constantly finding different ways to turn your sex lives up a notch or two when he has the time. And tonight, he’s trying something new.

Well, you both are.

The library is unusually busy for a Friday night, you realize, as you squeeze your thighs together and pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth. Jeongin’s still watching, probably has spit pooling in his mouth at the sight of you squirming in your chair. He does little to hide the slight upturn of his mouth, and it only serves to turn you on more.

There wasn’t much that could have prepared you for what he had waiting the minute you strolled into his apartment earlier, his eyes sparkling when you planted an innocent, unknowing kiss on his cheek.

“What’s that look for?” You had asked, raising an eyebrow when his smile only grew.

“We’re still going to the library tonight, right?” He asked, hand on your waist as he caged you in against the counter of his kitchenette. His fingers flexed atop the fabric of your jeans, already excited, itching to touch.

“That’s the plan. Unless you don’t want to, but I really need to study for my philosophy debate next week and—wait. What is that?”

“Surprise.” He said, pulling a small box out from behind his back. You let your eyes dart between him and the gift, something like anticipation swimming around in your gut. It wasn’t a holiday, or an anniversary, and Jeongin really only ever got that look in his eye when he—

You pulled the lid off, eyes going wide at the site of a pair of lace underwear sitting in a bed of tissue paper. Beside it, a small remote.

“Is this…”

“Mmhm,” Jeongin hummed, placing the box on the counter so he could pull you in by your hips for a kiss.

Painfully slow, his tongue worked your mouth open with force, cock already pathetically hard beneath his sweatpants at the mere thought of having you at his full disposal.

“You put these on before we leave, and if you show me that you can handle it,” he paused, dropping his voice an octave lower, the resulting growl enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ll bring you back to my place and reward you.”

That’s how you found yourself here, seated at a table towards the back of the library, the soft lull of a vibrator against your core as Jeongin controls it with a remote hidden in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“You seem to be—mmnf—enjoying this.”

Jeongin smirks, wets his lips. Even with the way his hair falls into his eyes, it’s hard to miss the hunger in them.

“You have no idea.”

Despite his outward facing, saccharine sweet demeanor, Jeongin harbors an almost animalistic desire beneath toothy grins and shy rubs to the back of his neck.

When you first met, you found him cute and quiet, too reserved to even spare a glance in your direction for the most part. Not that you were any better, but to say you were shocked the moment you and Jeongin finally fell into bed together is an understatement.

Of course, it took a few times for him to let loose, to feel comfortable enough to let go and have you take him fully, but once he did he couldn’t stop.

Jeongin is all rough hands and filthy words, guttural moans and spit stained sheets from when he gets too drunk on the taste of you that he can’t be bothered to clean it up. The worst part? You love it. You love the praises he whispers and the secret touches he gives when no one is looking, love the way his eyes will find you from across the room and undress you inside and out, your stomach twisting and turning from just a single upturn of his lip. Jeongin throws your world on its head, satisfies you in ways you never thought possible.

“Jeongin—ah.” His name comes out as a broken moan, the vibrator pressed tight between your legs. He must be cranking it higher, the sensation getting more and more intense, the squeezing of your thighs barely enough to contain it.

“What was that?” He asks innocently.

Jeongin leans back in his chair, far enough for you to see the way his hand twitches in the pocket of his sweatshirt, a stronger vibration following immediately after. “I didn’t quite catch what you were trying to say.”

Torture. That’s the best way to describe this. Jeongin’s been edging you for the past fifteen minutes, waiting until the last second, when you look like you’re about to come undone, only to lower the setting and leave you whining behind the screen of your laptop as you hide your face. It was more bearable when he had it set to a constant speed, but now, you’re barely managing to hold it together

You’ve waited too long, pretended to be taking notes for what feels like forever, when you finally decide to beg him for relief. “Jeongin, please, can we—”

“Hey lovebirds!”

The world, seemingly against you, decides that now is the best time to send a crescent-eyed Hyunjin waltzing up to your table. He’s got one hand wrapped around the strap of his bag, hair tied back into a ponytail, and he looks an awful lot like he has enough free time to make small talk. How cruel.

Unsurprisingly, Jeongin’s smile grows. The vibration increases between your legs. Fucking hell, he looks like a kid in a candy store, teeth on full display. “Hey Hyune! What are you doing here?”

“Oh Innie, I ask myself that every time Old Yeller over there tries to sweet talk me into taking her granddaughter on a date.” He jerks his head in the direction of the help desk where Mrs. Jung is already staring at him over the top of her glasses.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes before turning his attention to you, “Long time no see, y/n. Tell Yang to start bringing you along to hangouts so we can talk about him behind his back.” His eyes disappear into his smile, and you do your best to reciprocate.

“She would never.” Jeongin says, eyes narrowing in your direction at the exact moment the vibrator begins whirring with more intensity.

You take a deep breath, white-knuckling around your pen as you fight to suppress a moan, “Mmhm. Sure thing. Sounds fun. I’ll make sure to be there next time.” You pause after every few words, giving yourself just enough time to collect your bearings as Jeongin continues to wreak havoc against your throbbing core.

Hyunjin, bless his heart, doesn’t seem to notice. He smiles—beams even—before his eyes fall to the open philosophy book next to your laptop. “Oh, shit, you’re in that class too? Must be a different section than mine, but I haven’t even started reviewing anything. Seungmin’s going to beat my ass before the debate.” Jeongin’s thumb brings the vibrator up one notch. “Do you mind if I take a peek at your notes for a sec?”

Yes, you want to say. But you can’t, you know you can’t. And, more importantly, Jeongin knows you can’t.

“Yeah sure, I—hah—it’s uh, it’s all in here.” You say quickly, turning your laptop a bit so he can see the screen.

“Fucking bless. You’re a lifesaver.” Hyunjin says in relief, oblivious to your little slip up.

Jeongin saw it though, heard the way the moan almost fell from your lips. He’s been painfully hard the entire time, straining against his underwear, cock swollen from how badly he’s turned on. Hyunjin showing up doesn’t do much to help, only adds to the thrill of it all. You look so pitiful trying to hold it together, trying to hide how good you feel. To hide the way Jeongin is controlling how good you feel.

You’re being good for him. So good. He could bend you over the table right now if he wanted, fuck you so the whole student body can see for all he cares.

You visibly relax when Jeongin brings the intensity down, your legs shaking as you slowly relieve some of the tension off of your aching thighs. The knot in your stomach is still there, sitting on the precipice of release as the dull hum of the vibrator continues. You’re so close it’s almost terrifying, unable to predict what you'll do when Jeongin finally gives you the satisfaction of letting go.

As if he can read your mind, Jeongin’s foot knocks against your shin under the table. You shift your gaze up to him, cock an eyebrow as if asking What? Done for now? to which he replies with a wink. Challenging. You lick your lips. Jeongin’s dick twitches in his pants.

“I don’t know why,” Hyunjin says, squinting at the screen, “But I have this feeling that Professor Kang is going to give our class the question about free will. Like, whether or not we have it. So if I was going to argue from the standpoint of compatibilism, that means I’m only speaking for instances where external constraints are absent, right?”

“Well, yes,” you begin, leaning in closer, “But you have to remember that compatibilism doesn’t mean that humans are free, though. Always make sure that—” Jeongin’s foot starts sliding up your leg, stopping right at the inside of your knee, “—that, uh, you don’t confuse your stance with one of the other three perspectives.”

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. “Yes, but, if there’s an absence of external constraint shouldn’t that mean they’re free in a way? The constraints are what’s stopping them, no?”

You blink hard, eyes fixed on the screen as you try to refocus your attention on what Hyunjin is saying. “Y-Yeah, but, sometimes you—” Jeongin’s foot slowly pushes your knees apart until your legs are spread wide beneath the table, enough so that your folds are no longer separating the flat side of the vibrator from your clit. He gives no warning, no time to process what’s happening until your entire body jolts forward from the force of the vibration against your now exposed clit.

“Woah, are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, eyes wide. You let out a few hesitant breaths as you straighten back out. Jeongin’s foot is firm against your left knee, forcing it open as he innocently fiddles with the corner of his notebook.

He’s playing a dangerous game, tiptoeing the line between teasing and just being downright cruel. Jeongin supposes that the ideal situation would not be for you to come undone right here at the table, Hyunjin’s eyes on you as he waits for a response, lips parted in confusion and concern.

“I’m fine I’m just—”

“Actually, we have to go.” Jeongin cuts in, glancing at his watch. “I forgot that we have a dinner reservation at seven. Must’ve slipped my mind. You can email him the notes, yeah babe?”

You blink at him in surprise, swallowing when his foot trails the length of your leg until it’s resting back on the ground. The vibrator turns off, and Jeongin lifts his eyebrows in a silent signal.

“Y-yeah! Of course,” you turn to Hyunjin, “Sorry, I don’t mean to cut it short. You can definitely text me if you have any more questions though.” Your voice is strained, throat tight with anticipation. Jeongin is looking at you like he could eat you alive, and it takes everything in you to not moan right then and there even without the sensation of the vibrator against you.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah totally. I don’t want to keep you guys any longer,” Hyunjin says happily, his eyes taking on that familiar shape, “Have fun you two! Also, Yang, I’m watching you. You’d better invite her out with us next time!” He calls out, pointing two fingers at his eyes before turning them in Jeongin’s direction as he walks backwards towards one of the study rooms. Jeongin gives him a lazy wave before focusing his attention back to you.

“All of a sudden?” you ask, not bothering to lead in with anything else.

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just starts shoving his things into his bag. You watch him for a few moments, eyeing him carefully. Is he…mad? No, right? There’s nothing you could have possibly done to piss him off. If anything, you're the one who should be mad at him for making you look like a fool in front of Hyunjin.

When it’s clear that Jeongin isn’t in the mood to talk, you slowly start packing up your own things. Your legs feel like jelly once you stand, aching from the knot of arousal that’s still sitting low in the pit of your stomach. Jeongin lets his eyes trail your body before he pushes away from the table.

“Come on, let’s go.” He mumbles, eyes dark. You open your mouth to say something but he pays no mind, just grabs your hand and heads straight for the door.

The walk is silent. Jeongin only grunts in greeting at the person behind the front desk of his apartment building, hurriedly making his way to the elevators as you struggle to keep up, his grip on your wrist the only thing making sure you’re close behind. Jeongin doesn’t say anything during the ride up to his floor, either. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react.

You’re at your limit when he punches his code into the keypad of his apartment, flinging the door open and ushering you inside. You’re about to confront him, about to turn and ask what you did wrong and apologize for whatever it might’ve been when he slams the door shut and yanks you by the wrist, pulling you with enough force to have your back against the wood in a matter of seconds.

One hand above your head, palm flat against the door, Jeongin uses his other to cradle your jaw and slam his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands fly to his hair immediately, tangling themselves in the softness of it, pulling slightly to elicit a groan out of him just the way you know he likes.

“Did so fucking good,” he mumbles against your lips as he drops both of his hands to press your hips further into the door. “Gonna reward you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel good. Give you what you want.”

You clench around nothing as his words shoot straight through you, nothing but heat spreading throughout your entire body as his mouth works hot against your neck. You squeeze your thighs together for something, anything to relieve your want for more.

“Jeong—fuck, please.” You whine when his hand slips into your pants, and you feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you begging. Always so good for me, so needy.” His fingers grip the end of the vibrator as he slips it out of the pocket of the underwear and tosses it somewhere on the floor.

You gasp, your eyes flying open. “You’re going to break it.”

Jeongin chuckles, “I’ll buy another one.”

“You can’t just waste money on that.” You groan and pull his head back by his hair, “I bet it was expensive too, wasn’t it?”

“I’d spend any amount of money if it meant I’d be able to see you look that fucked out in public again, baby, trust me.” Jeongin smirks. “Now, can you ride my face or are we gonna continue to argue about my financial responsibility?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, smirking when Jeongin’s eyes flicker to them. He takes it as the okay, drops to his knees, and smiles in satisfaction at the hiss that leaves your mouth once he pulls your jeans down to your ankles and the air hits the wet fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to each of your thighs. Your legs start shaking almost immediately. “Can’t believe you’re mine.” He mumbles as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pulls them down your legs, helping you step out of it.

Jeongin cups his hands under your thighs, thumbs pressed to the inside of them, and then spares one last look up at you through thick lashes before he’s leaning in and licking a stripe up your folds. You nearly collapse then and there, but his hands hold you up, grip firm.

“Holy fuck,” you groan. Jeongin hums against you, licking and sucking at your clit like his life depends on it. He feels like it does. He can’t help but pull back and admire how red and swollen you are, sensitive as hell from all the edging, your wetness practically leaking all over his chin. He lets you fist at his hair as incoherent words tumble from your lips, lets you grind your hips into his face as he stiffens his tongue so you can fuck yourself on it, his nose brushing your clit every so often and sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It’s good, so fucking good, Jeongin’s always known how to push your limits in a way that has you trembling and craving more.

“Right there,” you gasp, your thighs clenching as you shake in his hold, your peak reaching faster than you expected it to. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Jeongin flattens his tongue and begins lapping at you pathetically, bringing a hand up to start pumping two fingers in and out of you at just the right angle. You cum all over his fingers, hot white flashes clouding your vision as your hips stutter, his left arm keeping you firm against the door. He lets you ride it out, sucks lazily at your clit until you’re jerking with every touch of his mouth to your core, too sensitive for him to continue.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up, hair completely ruined and pupils blown wide with desire. He leans in to kiss you, more gentle this time, and he laughs into your mouth when you all but melt into his arms and he has to tighten his grip to hold you up. You moan when he tilts your head back and licks your bottom lip, to which you open for him, and he kisses your own arousal into your mouth.

“Think you can keep going?” He asks.

You don’t answer, just snake your hand in between your bodies and cup him through his sweats. He’s hard, practically straining against his underwear.

“Your turn.” You whisper, walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he falls on to it. He spreads his legs wide, watches with heavy eyelids as you stand before him and remove your shirt, leaving yourself fully exposed for him to see.

“God you are…” he trails off when you move towards him and climb onto his lap, grinding your hips down against him and no doubt leaving a wet spot on the outside of his sweats, “…fuck.” He groans, throwing his head back as he presses his thumbs into your hips to help you press down harder.

“I’m what?” You ask when you begin trailing kisses down his jaw, loving the way his stubble scratches against your lips. You suck at the spot just below his ear, still grinding against him.

“Everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of.” He sighs.

You pull back until your noses are barely brushing and stare into his eyes for a moment. “What?” he asks as he starts rubbing circles into your hip bone with his thumb.

“Nothing I just…” you trail off, eyes still searching his as he stares back at you with an overwhelming amount of adoration.

“…I just really want to suck your dick right now.”

Jeongin barks out a laugh, loud and punctuated, before his head falls forward onto your shoulder and the remaining giggles are nothing but choppy breaths that ghost your nipples.

“What?” You laugh, hitting his shoulder. “I’m serious!”

He picks his head back up to look at you, eyes disappearing into the smile that’s on his face, and leans forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I know, I know, I just—I love you, that’s all. I. Love. You.” He punctuates every word with a kiss, but you chase the last one until his lips are slotted against yours hungrily once again, his hands dropping to cup you from behind.

You inhale deeply before sliding off his lap, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of him. Jeongin lifts his hips just enough for you to help him slide his sweats and underwear off in one fluid motion and then yanks his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him fully naked and sinking back into the couch cushions. With his legs spread wide, cock hard and swollen pink against his stomach, messy hair and wide eyes, you think about just how lucky you are to call him yours, to be able to have him in every way possible.

Without wasting too much time, you rest your hands on his thighs and lick along the underside of him, tracing the vein there with your tongue and then sucking off the precum at the tip. “Shiiiiit,” Jeongin moans, throwing his head back.

You grab at the base of his cock and take him fully without warning, sinking down until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big enough that he fills your mouth completely, spit dribbling out of the sides as you work the bottom half of him with your hand, moving in time with your lips as you bob your head up and down.

“Holy fuck, shit, fuck,” the words tumble from his lips as he keeps a steady hand on the back of your head. You look up at him, a single tear spilling from the corner of your eye. He watches with parted lips for a second before pulling you off of him, a string connected to where spit is pooling on your chin.

“I am not,” he says, out of breath, “Cumming unless I’ve got you around my cock.”

You smile as you scramble up and onto his lap, planting your legs on either side of him. He raises an eyebrow in question, “Aren’t your legs tired?”

“Not for you they’re not,” you say as you reach behind, your hand using your leftover spit to pump him a few times. “Now shut up.”

Jeongin laughs and puts both hands behind his head, arms on full display as he leans back, “Yes ma’am.”

The moans you both let out the minute you sink down on him is so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed. If his neighbors didn’t already know what you were doing, then they definitely do now. Jeongin’s shoulders are firm where you anchor yourself to him, using his body as leverage while you ride him to high hell.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, his hands finding your breasts immediately. Sometimes you forget how big Jeongin’s hands are, both of them cupping you completely, only your nipples peeking out between his fingers as he kneads your chest.

“Bet you liked knowing how wet I was for you while I was talking to Hyunjin, huh?”

Jeongin won’t admit it, but he loves it when you talk to him like this during sex. He likes to feel in control, likes to have his way with you, but on the flip side he loves when you take initiative too. You can feel him twitch inside you at your words, his hips jerking upwards to meet your movements.

“You liked knowing you were in control, that you could make me cum at any second and I’d have to hide it, maybe squeeze my legs to stop myself. And the poor guy, he wouldn’t have a clue. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if I started whimpering and shaking, would he? And it would all be because of you.”

Jeongin responds by bringing a hand down on your ass with a loud smack, your body jolting forward into him from the force. It only spurs you further, your knees on fire from exertion.

You can feel the mark blooming, a big red handprint sure to be visible by the time you wake up tomorrow morning. Part of you wants to get it tattooed there, to have a permanent reminder of Jeongin on your body, to always know what it feels like to be wholly and unconditionally his.

“God you’re so fucking nasty,” he all but growls into your ear, his mouth hot as he connects his lips with yours, tongue licking eagerly into your mouth. “Close.” He grunts.

Jeongin sees stars when you lean back and prop yourself up on his knees, planting your heels into the couch on either side of him so you can fuck yourself onto his cock at a better angle. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing mercilessly while he bucks his hips up to meet your movements halfway.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Jeongin—!”

The sensation of you clenching around him as you cum makes Jeongin’s own release follow shortly after, both of you moaning and swearing as you ride it out together. He lets you fall into his chest, rubs a soothing hand up and down your back as you both attempt to calm your breathing and reel yourselves back to reality. His skin is sticky with a sheen of sweat, your own forehead damp and legs shaking.

Jeongin sighs and brings a hand up to tangle in your hair while his fingers massage your scalp. You pull back, staring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Jeongin blinks a few times before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’ve definitely ruined me for anyone else.”

Although he meant it in a sweet, endearing way, you narrow your eyes and poke a finger into his chest. “Why are you saying that as if ‘anyone else’ is even an option?”

He throws an arm over his face, “You know what I meant.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I do—”

“You literally just rode me into oblivion. I bought you vibrating panties just so I could—”

“—I can’t believe that after I just broke my knees for you that’s the first thing you say!”

Jeongin bursts into a fit of giggles when you dig your fingers into his ribs, squealing when he tosses you off of him and you roll on to the side of the couch. “Okay, okay! Let me make it up to you, just stay there.” He says before disappearing into the bathroom. When he reamerges, he’s got a wet washcloth, which he uses to wipe you down before kissing the pout off of your face.

Not long later, when you’re both showered and he’s got you draped across his lap in a pair of his sweats and one of his hoodies, Jeongin chances a tap on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily.

“So, you never explicitly said it, but on a scale of one to ten…if you were to rate my gift…”

You huff out a laugh, turning so that you’re on your back in order to look at him. “Definitely a ten. Could do without the borderline public humiliation next time, though.”

Jeongin leans down to press a kiss to your lips, smiling when you wrap your arms around his head to hold him there for a while longer. “Noted. As long as you never say one of my friends’ names during sex ever again.”

“Why? You sounded like you liked it.”

“Shut up.” Jeongin groans, resting his forehead against yours. It has to be an uncomfortable position, his entire body hunched over at nearly a ninety degree angle to even reach you. “I was balls deep inside of you when it happened. Completely out of my mind. But then, when I was in the bathroom taking a piss five minutes ago I was like, what the fuck? So yeah. No public humiliation as long as I never have to hear Hyun—”

Jeongin’s phone vibrates a total of three times on the couch next to him, cutting him off. He eyes it for a moment, confused as to why anyone would even be messaging this late, and then laughs when he finally picks it up to read what was sent.

“Speak of the devil,” he scoffs before turning the screen towards you.

hyunjin

yo yang

sorry to bother

you think y/n could email me those notes now?

846 notes · View notes

innieseong · 6 days ago

Text

“Clever Fox”

✧꡴ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫!𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✧꡴ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 - 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 (𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭)

✧꡴ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 - 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

✧꡴ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 - 𝟐.𝟖𝐊

✧꡴ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 (𝐝𝐮𝐡), 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐨𝐦/𝐬𝐮𝐛 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜, 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭!𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧, 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐩𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 (?)

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 - 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐬. 𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝...

✢ - 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

✢ - 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦

�� - @innieseong

✧꡴ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭. 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 ! (𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 :𝟑)

✧꡴

For the 3rd time, you press the door bell.

No answer.

You quickly whip out your phone and access your contacts, scrolling down until you find Jeongin's name. You had exchanged numbers a few days ago when yall became biology lab partners, and since then, you guys had exchanged only a few texts. As you looked at your previous conversation, you noticed that it was Jeongin who had started the exchange, but only to send his address and how his house looked. Nothing that interested you at all. Standing in front of his door, you shoot him a message.

Y/N: I’m here..

2 minutes later and still nothing.

Y/N: Hellooo??

Sighing, you put your phone in your pocket and look at the door once more before leaving. You forced yourself to believe he didn’t want to work with you. You turn back to your car, feeling a mix of disappointment and irritation. Suddenly, you hear a faint crash, as if something had been knocked over, come from somewhere above you. Specifically inside the same very house that you assumed was empty.

Your ears perk up, trying to catch anything else. You look up and notice the window on the left side of the 2 story house. The window appeared to be open, with the curtains pulled back. As you stand there, trying to make sense of what’s going on, you hear another faint noise coming from the open window. It’s muffled, but it sounds like something, or someone speaking.

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to mind your business or not, but eventually curiosity gets the best of you. You walk over to the door and pause when you reach it. You swallow the lump in your throat as you hesitantly, with shaky hands grab hold of the knob and twist it. Much to your surprise, the door is unlocked.

Your heart sinks as reasons as to why his front door was unlocked came rushing in your head. Was he ok? Did someone break in? Where is he? You twist the door knob all the way and open the door, a cold rush of air smacking you in the face. Carefully stepping inside the house, quietly closing the door behind you.

The hallway is dimly lit, and you strain your eyes to see in the faint light. Glancing around, you notice a staircase on the opposite side of the narrow hall, leading up to the second floor. You lift your foot and take a tentative step forward, heading towards the stair case. The sound of your own footsteps echoing through the emptiness seems louder than it should be.

Climbing the staircase, you can hear muffled sounds coming from the first door on the left side of the upstairs hallway. Up the stairs, you slowly walk toward the door and the muffled sounds begin to get somewhat louder. You wouldn’t be able to hear it if you weren’t concentrating.

Nearing the door, your heart beats just a tad bit faster. The door seems to be ajar, leaving a tiny small gap and the frame. Your curiosity runs deep as you press your eye between the door and the frame, hoping jeongin was inside and well.

From what you can see, the space is dimly lit, with the window curtains slightly askew, allowing a sliver of sunlight to filter in, like you had saw outside. The room is dominated by a King-sized bed, disheveled with rumpled sheets and pillows strewn about. The walls screamed jeongin. There were pictures of what you’re assuming was his family and posters of rock, pop bands everywhere. Even Pokémon.

But that’s not what caught your eyes though. Far from it.

In the center of the bed, you see a shirtless Jeongin, his lean and muscular body revealed. His back slightly arched off the bed, his eyes closed, a look of intense concentration etched on his face. His veiny hand is moving beneath the waistband of his shorts slowly, as if teasing himself, his other hand gripping his dark blue bed sheet. His chest rises and falls with each sharp breath, and beads of sweat glisten on his pale skin. He opens his fox eyes and they immediately go to the computer screen that was laying on his bed.

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him in awe. Never in a million years would you ever think you’d see something like this in broad daylight. Let alone jeongin. Your eyes lids flutter as Jeongin's face gets flushed, with sweat glistens on his collarbone and between each of his abs. You could see the print of him in his shorts as he stroked himself slowly as he watched whatever it was he was looking at.

With each stroke, Jeongin’s body trembles and his hips thrust into his hand beneath the shorts, cute and throaty groans were coming from his parted lips. Those groans shot straight to your core, thighs mindlessly pressing together. You wanted to see him. To see the cock that he was stroking. You felt ashamed of yourself. You came over to work on a project, not ogle him as he touched himself.

But.. you can’t look away.

As if he read your mind, his body arches off the bed as he slips his hand out of his boxers, the shape of his cock throbbing and begging for release under his thin shorts. His hands move with urgency as he grabs each side of his shorts with both his hands and pulls them down to his thighs. His lower half is now exposed, revealing a pair of black boxer briefs, quickly being pushed down to his thighs as well.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip, feeling the way your heart raced. A flicker of his cock as it springs free from its confines, thick and throbbing, made your breath catch in your throat, lady parts clenching in response to such an exotic sight.

His erection stood firm, his pale pink tip begging for attention as a clear substance leaked around it. You couldn't help but imagine how it would feel, how it would taste. You couldn't help but shift around by the door, your hand slowly trailing up your body, towards your chest. You weren’t surprised when you felt your pebbled nipples straining against your thin yellow tank, eyes never leaving Jeongin.

Jeongin let his hand slowly wander down to his cock, tracing his fingers along the length of it, his touch gentle yet firm. His breathing hitched as his fingers wrap around his thick, slightly palish pink shaft.

You could see some of his precum dripping down to his full balls, the sensation making him thrust into his hand once, his eyes focused on himself. His hand wrapped around his cock fully, his long fingers covering his whole base. His left thumb circling the tip in slow, teasing circles as presses his thumb against it.

"Ah, fuck," he breathed out, his hips thrusting into his hand once more. "A-ah... Y/N..." he whimpered, voice cracking with need. "I can't... I need...Ungh!" Stifled whimpers tumbled from his lips as he worked himself faster, desperately chasing release. By now, your panties were soaked, thighs trembling as you rubbed them together. Jeongin’s cries stirred a molten ache deep in your core. You bit your lip hard, fighting back a moan from hearing your name on his pretty tongue.

Suddenly, jeongins eyes flutters open as if he could sense your presence. He turns his head and spots you, frozen in his doorway, eyes glued to his throbbing cock. A mix of shock and arousal flashes across his face as you both make eye contact, both of you guys stunned. "Shit! Y/N? W-what are you doing here?" He stammers, quickly moving to cover himself with his hands. But he makes no move to get up off the bed. His hand covers his base but you could still very much see the tip.

You turn your head away, clearling your throat as if you haven’t been watching him this entire time. There was an uncomfortable silence stretched across his room and from where you stood. The awkward silence stretches between yall, neither moving nor speaking. You guild your eyes away from your left shoe and slowly back towards Jeongin.

Much to your surprise, he was already staring at you, eyes filled with something you couldn’t pinpoint. With a shaky breath and cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, he speaks, “I-I wasn't... I mean, I didn't expect you to just—" he stammers again "This isn't what it looks like-“

You raise an eyebrow, glad for the atmosphere change. “Oh, really? Because.. if you ask me, it almost sounds to me like you were just.. touching yourself.. to me?” The look on your face didn’t match with your tone and as much as you wanted to seem serious, you couldn’t help but find this situation.. funny.

Definitely erotic.

Before you could stop yourself, you open the door a bit wider and step inside. You keep your gaze on jeongin as you shut the door behind you. You walk towards his desk, which was on the left side of his bed, where you could get a solid view on him. He still had his hand covering his junk, with his chest still in view.

Never in your wildest dreams ..

You sit down on the side of his bed.

“No need to be embarrassed, Jeongin," You say, hesitating before reaching out to brush a stray, black lock of hair from his forehead. He hisses at the contact. "We all have needs. There's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself, hell I’m not even supposed to be in your house." You giggle at the last part.

His fox eyes were so sincere and pretty that you had to force yourself from gazing into them for so long. They were so hypnotizing, that you almost spilled all your secrets to him, especially about that very crush you had on him. But you guess it probably wouldn’t be so bad, considering the situation.

"This isn't... I wasn't..." Again, he stammers, struggling to find the right words. You glance down to see that his cock was still painfully hard, straining against his hand as he tried desperately to cover himself. "I don’t want you to see me like this. It's embarrassing." His low and husky voice sent a shiver through your body.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, his voice barely audible. "I know it's weird. I just... I can't stop. I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is your face. Your body. It's driving me crazy, nuts, even."

Jeongin’s confession hangs heavy in the air between you both. Your heart races at his admission, a thrill running through you at knowing you affect him so deeply. You could see the conflict in his eyes - the desire warring with the embarrassment and uncertainty.

Slowly, deliberately, you lean in closer, your breasts hidden behind your tank, presses against his arm. The heat of his skin seeps through the thin fabric of your top, making your nipples harden in response. You let out a soft, breathy sigh, lips mere inches from his ear.

"Jeongin..." You whisper, your voice low and sultry. "Again, There's no need to be embarrassed. It's only natural to crave what you want...to long for someone so badly it consumes your thoughts."

Your hands trails down from his forehead, ghosting over his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. You let your fingers dance along his v-line, teasing at the sensitive skin just above his hipbone. His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a small sigh, his body shuddering as he slowly uses his hips to slowly thrust against his hands, that he was supposedly supposed to be using to hide his cock from you.

“F-fuck.. Y/N, I can’t hold back anymore.. It hurts.” He opens his hooded eyes to look at you, proving his point. You glanced down at his fingers to see that his hand was fully wrapped around his cock and was slowly rubbing himself, his thumb against his sticky slit.

It was all so Raw.

Knowing you had his utmost attention, you reached down and slipped off your top, followed by your bra. You needed to have him comfortable, if he had his Willy out, you might as well take your cherries out. He lets out a gasp and his hand increasing at a steady pace as he stares at your breast. You grab his unattended hand and guild it up to your right breast and he immediately gives it a firm squeeze, letting out a guttural groan.

You bite your lip as he fondles your breast, his eyes never leaving your chest as he jerks himself. You couldn’t help but let your hand trail down his body, past his happy trail and right on top of his hand. You cupped his hand, following the movements he was doing to himself. His head drops back, his breath catches in his throat as your hand joins him. You watch in awe as your hand wraps around his veiny base and gasp at how it twitches in your grasp.

Jeongin’s head falls back against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on the exquisite sensation of your small hand wrapped around his aching cock. His hips thrust up into your grip, seeking more of that delicious friction. His fox eyes flutter shut, long lashes casting spiky shadows on his flushed cheeks. Trembling thighs fall open in shameless invitation, baring his most intimate places to your hungry gaze.

"Ahh... Your hand, S-shit," he whimpers, voice cracking with desperation. "Fuck, faster... Please."

Coherent words fail him as jolts of electric pleasure radiate from where you stroke him. Jeongin's lean body undulates sinuously, back arching off the mattress. Modest chest heaves with panting breaths, pebbled nipples standing out in stark relief against his pale skin. The dusky points beg for the wet heat of your mouth.

One slim hand fists in the sheets, knuckles going white. The other still wrapped around your breast, palming and squeezing like his life depends on it.

Jeongin's cock twitches and pulses in your grip, weeping copious amounts of pre-cum. The musky scent of his arousal perfumes the air, stoking the flames of your own desire. He's so hard it looks painful, the thick shaft throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat. His hips buck upwards with a sharp thrust, fucking into the tight channel created by your hands. Lewd squelching noises fill the room as you work him over, driving him quickly towards the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N," he pants, voice strained with pleasure. "Feels so good... Don't stop, please don't stop."

His cock is an angry red, veins bulging along the thick length. Perly pre-cum dribbles steadily from the flushed tip, coating your fingers and making the glide deliciously slick. Jeongin’s whole body trembles, muscles taut and coiled like a spring ready to snap. His breathing grows ragged, punctuated by needy whimpers and moans. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room as he thrusts into your hand with wild abandon, making your bite your lip.

One of his hands slides down to join yours at the base of his cock. He wraps long, slender fingers around your wrist, fingers interlacing as you stroke him together. The added friction sends sparks of white-hot pleasure shooting up his spine.

"Y/N, I'm gonna... F-fuck!" he warns through gritted teeth as his climax hits him like a freight train, back arching so sharply it almost hurts. His toes curling from the sheer force of his orgasm. Thick strings of pearlescent cum erupt from his twitching cock, striping and splattering his torso and flat stomach in a seemingly, endless flow. The creamy fluid drips down his defined abs, pooling in his navel.

You watch as his hips buck erratically, riding out the waves of pleasure crashing over him. His hand tightening around your wrist, guiding your strokes as he chases every last drop. When the final shudder wracks through him, he collapses back against the mattress, spent.

Cheeks flushed and eyes glazed, Jeongin looks utterly debauched. His black hair is mussed, sticking to his damp forehead. Cum glistens on his skin, a lewd reminder of his climax. He pants heavily, struggling to catch his breath.

His spent cock gives a valiant twitch as you continue to lazily stroke him through the aftermath.

"That was... fuck, amazing," He pants, slowly coming back to himself. Hazy, brown eyes open to gaze at you adoringly. "you’re amazing"

You stare down at him with a genuine smile, your eyes filled with a deep sense of joy. You lean down and gently kiss him on his temple, a gasp coming from his slightly parted lips. He gazes up at you with wide, hopeful eyes when you pull away.

“I hope you don’t think we’re done, because we’re far from it.”

✧꡴

#stray kids #i.n skz #skz fanfic #skz smut #jeongin x reader #innieseong #chk chk boom #kpop #fanfic #jeongin fic #jeongin x y/n #yang jeongin

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charlieg1rl · 2 months ago

Text

"𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬"

𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝐤

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞

Jeongin is seated comfortably on the floor between Y/N's legs, his back resting against the couch where she’s perched. He’s got a relaxed, easy smile on his face, his attention flickering between the TV and the gentle, rhythmic movement of Y/N's fingers in his hair. She’s absentmindedly playing with his soft strands, twisting them into little braids and occasionally running her fingers through them to undo the twists, only to start again.

Her nails lightly scrape against his scalp, making Jeongin let out a soft sigh, his body leaning even further into her touch. It’s such a natural, comfortable gesture, and to anyone who didn’t know better, it would seem like they were a couple lost in their own little world.

From the other side of the room, Seungmin raises an eyebrow at the sight. He’s sprawled out on the floor, leaning on one elbow, and after a moment of watching them, he smirks.

“You two are ridiculous, you know that, right?” Seungmin comments, breaking the silence. His tone is casual, but there’s a teasing edge to it. The rest of the group’s attention shifts to Jeongin and Y/N, who both look up at the sudden remark.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asks innocently, still threading her fingers through Jeongin’s hair, though there’s a knowing smile tugging at her lips. She’s heard this kind of teasing countless times before.

“I mean,” Seungmin says, sitting up now and gesturing toward the two of them, “look at you guys. Are you really going to keep pretending you’re just best friends when you act like this all the time?”

Jeongin’s eyes flutter open, and he glances over at Seungmin, his expression calm but amused. “We are just best friends,” he says with a shrug, though the smile on his face shows that even he’s not fully convinced by his own words.

Y/N lets out a soft laugh and continues braiding a small section of Jeongin’s hair. “Exactly,” she chimes in, her voice light and teasing. “What’s wrong with a little hair braiding between friends?”

“You guys are unbelievable,” Hyunjin says from where he’s lounging against the armrest of the couch, shaking his head with a grin. “Do you even realize how couple-y you look right now?”

Jeongin’s head tilts back slightly, his neck resting against Y/N's knee as he looks up at her with an exaggeratedly innocent expression. “Do we?” he asks with mock surprise, playing along with the teasing. His eyes sparkle with mischief, and Y/N rolls her eyes in response, though she’s smiling, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

“Uh, yeah,” Felix adds from his spot on the floor, pointing at them with a wide grin. “It’s like watching one of those cheesy dramas where the two main characters are oblivious to their feelings for each other.”

Jeongin lets out a soft chuckle and shrugs again, clearly unfazed by the teasing. “We’re just comfortable with each other. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal,” Seungmin says with a smirk, “is that you’re basically an unofficial couple at this point. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

At this, Y/N pauses for a second, her fingers stilling in Jeongin’s hair as her eyes flicker to his, catching his gaze. There’s a split-second of something—something unspoken, something warm, and maybe a little bit uncertain—that passes between them. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone, and Y/N playfully flicks the back of Jeongin’s head.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Jeongin,” she teases, though there’s a hint of softness in her tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by their friends. “They’re just trying to mess with us.”

Jeongin grins and reaches up to gently tug at one of the braids she’s made. “Mess with us? Nah, they’re just jealous of how good you are at playing with my hair,” he says, his tone light and playful.

“That, or we just love making fun of how whipped you are,” Hyunjin adds, winking at Y/N. The others laugh, but the playful energy in the room shifts slightly as Y/N's cheeks flush a little at the comment, and she instinctively starts running her fingers through Jeongin’s hair again, avoiding the others’ teasing gazes.

Felix leans forward, his eyes narrowing mischievously. “So, if you’re just best friends,” he starts, leaning into the conversation, “would either of you care to explain why you guys hold hands when you think no one’s looking?”

Y/N's eyes widen, and she lets out a surprised laugh. “What? We do not!” she protests, though there’s a slight wobble in her voice that betrays her.

Jeongin, however, smirks at the comment, clearly unfazed. “Oh, we definitely do,” he says casually, his tone so nonchalant it takes Y/N by surprise. He looks up at her with a playful grin, his eyes twinkling. “Come on, Y/N. You’re not going to deny it, are you?”

She narrows her eyes at him, but she’s still smiling. “You’re the worst,” she mutters under her breath, but there’s no real bite to her words.

The room explodes into laughter at this, and Y/N feels her cheeks burn with warmth. She glances down at Jeongin, and he’s grinning up at her, clearly enjoying the way the teasing has shifted in his favor. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at her that makes her heart skip a beat—something soft and familiar, yet new at the same time.

Before she can say anything more, Seungmin pipes up again, unable to resist adding one last teasing comment. “Face it, you two. You’re already halfway to dating, and everyone knows it but you.”

Y/N shakes her head, trying to brush off the comment with a laugh, but the words linger in her mind. She glances down at Jeongin, who’s now resting his head against her leg, his eyes closed once more as her fingers resume their gentle movements in his hair.

And for just a moment, as the laughter dies down and the conversation shifts to something else, she wonders—just for a moment—if maybe, just maybe, their friends aren’t entirely wrong.

Maybe there’s more to their friendship than she’s ready to admit.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

tags: @estella-novella

#stray kids x reader #jeongin x reader #in x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids fluff #jeongin fluff #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin x y/n #in x you #stray kids x you #jeongin fic #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #skz scenarios #i.n. x reader #jeongin fanfic

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writingforstraykids · 4 months ago

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Home - Jinnie Bday fic🖤

Pairing: OT8 x gnReader

Word Count: 1711

Summary: In Stray Kids you found a family in ways you would've never imagined. They were your home, your safe place, your everything.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, found family, 9th member

A/N: The happiest birthday to you my sweet Jinnie @jinnie-ret 🖤 I hope you were able to enjoy your day and I wish you only the best for your next year!! Hope you enjoy this little something🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Your journey to find a family within Stray Kids wasn't an easy one, but it was undoubtedly one of the most rewarding experiences of your life. Each member brought something unique to the table, filling different roles in your life that you didn't even know you needed. From the very first day you met them, it was clear that this group of eight would become your family in ways you'd never imagined.

From the moment you became part of the group, Chan took you under his wing. His warm smile and welcoming demeanor immediately made you feel at ease. He was always there to guide you, whether it was through a tough choreography or just a rough day.

"Y/n, remember, it's not about being perfect. It's about doing your best and growing every day," Chan would often remind you with a reassuring smile.

Chan's presence in your life was akin to that of a protective older brother. He always knew when you were feeling down and needed a pep talk or just someone to listen. His dedication to the group and to you was inspiring, and his belief in your potential pushed you to strive for more.

Minho, with his sharp dance moves and even sharper wit, quickly became someone you could rely on for both comfort and a good laugh. He had a way of teasing you that always made you feel included and part of the group.

"Y/nnie, you call that a dance move? Even my cats can do better," he'd joke, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Despite his teasing, Minho was incredibly caring. He had a knack for knowing when something was wrong and would often check in on you with his unique brand of tough love. His duality of being both a playful friend and a compassionate confidant was something you cherished deeply.

Hyunjin, with his ethereal visuals and artistic flair, quickly became your creative soulmate. Whether it was painting, dancing, or just discussing life, Hyunjin had a way of making everything seem beautiful and meaningful.

“Let's paint the town red tonight, literally," he'd say, handing you a paintbrush with a grin.

Hyunjin's passion for the arts was contagious, and he often encouraged you to explore your creative side. His ability to find beauty in the mundane and his unwavering support helped you see the world through a different lens.

Changbin, with his fierce rapping skills and even fiercer determination, was the motivational coach you never knew you needed. His relentless work ethic and positive attitude were nothing short of inspiring.

“If you want something, you have to fight for it. We'll always support you, but you have to play your part," he'd often say, his eyes filled with intensity.

Changbin's tough love approach pushed you to your limits and helped you break barriers you didn't think were possible. His constant encouragement and belief in your abilities were a source of strength on your toughest days.

Jisung, with his infectious laughter, quickly became the lighthearted joker of your new family. His ability to make you laugh, even on your worst days, was a gift you cherished dearly.

"Y/nnie, Y/nnie, Y/nnie! Why did the-" he would say, bursting into laughter before he could even finish the joke.

Jisung's lighthearted nature and playful spirit brought joy and laughter into your life. His ability to find humor in any situation was a constant reminder not to take life too seriously and to always find reasons to smile.

Felix, with his deep voice and even deeper compassion, was the gentle heart of the group. His kindness and empathy knew no bounds, and he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

"Sometimes all you need is a little bit of patience and loads of cuddles,” Felix would say, his voice soothing and reassuring.

Felix's gentle nature and warm hugs were a constant source of comfort. His ability to listen without judgment and offer genuine support made him someone you could always turn to in times of need.

Seungmin, with his calm demeanor and wise insights, quickly became the voice of reason in your life. His ability to stay grounded and offer practical advice was something you came to rely on.

"It's okay to take a step back and breathe. Not everything has to be perfect," Seungmin would remind you, his voice steady and calm.

Seungmin's level-headedness and rational perspective were invaluable. His guidance helped you navigate the challenges you faced and made you appreciate the importance of balance and patience.

Jeongin, the youngest member of the group, quickly became the little brother you never had. His youthful energy and innocent charm were a breath of fresh air, and his admiration for you was heartwarming.

"Can you show me that dance move again? You're so cool!" he would say, his eyes wide with admiration.

Innie's enthusiasm and eagerness to learn from you made you feel appreciated and valued. His presence was a constant reminder of the joy of discovery and the importance of nurturing those who look up to you.

As time went on, you found yourself growing closer to each member, forming bonds that felt unbreakable. Each one of them brought something unique to your life, filling different roles that together created a sense of family you had always longed for.

One day, after a particularly grueling practice session, you all decided to unwind at the dorm. Chan suggested watching a movie, and everyone quickly agreed. You all settled into the living room, snacks in hand, ready to relax and enjoy each other's company.

"Y/nnie, you get to pick the movie," Chan said, tossing you the remote.

After much deliberation and playful arguing, you settled on a comedy, knowing it would lift everyone's spirits. As the movie played, you found yourself sandwiched between Minho and Jisung, both of whom provided a running commentary that had you in stitches.

"Why is he doing that? That's such a dumb move," Minho remarked, shaking his head.

"Right? I could've written a better script," Jisung added, making you burst into laughter.

Felix and Innie were engrossed in the movie, sharing a blanket and occasionally throwing popcorn at each other. Seungmin and Hyunjin were seated on the floor, discussing the cinematography and artistic elements, while Changbin and Chan were busy trying to outdo each other in a push-up contest during the commercial breaks.

"Y/nnie, care to join us?" Changbin asked with a challenging grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'll leave the push-ups to you two. I'm quite comfortable here."

As the night went on, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for these moments. The laughter, the camaraderie, and the simple joy of being together were things you treasured deeply.

Of course, it wasn't always smooth sailing. There were times when tensions ran high, and disagreements were inevitable. But even in those moments, you found strength in your newfound family. One particularly challenging day stood out in your memory.

You were in the studio, working on a new track. The atmosphere was tense, as everyone was feeling the pressure to deliver something exceptional. Voices were raised, and frustrations were palpable.

"I think we should try a different approach," Chan suggested, his tone calm but firm.

You were feeling overwhelmed, and his suggestion felt like another critique. "I don't think that's the problem, Chan," you snapped, immediately regretting your tone.

The room fell silent, and you could feel the weight of your words. Chan took a deep breath, his expression softening. "Let's take a break."

As everyone dispersed, Felix approached you, his expression concerned. "Hey, it's okay to feel frustrated. We're all in this together."

You nodded, tears threatening to spill. "I just want to get it right."

Felix pulled you into a hug, his warmth comforting. "And we will. But we need to take care of ourselves too."

After a few moments, you rejoined the group, ready to try again. Chan's understanding smile and the supportive nods from the others reminded you that no matter how tough things got, you had a family to rely on.

For every challenge, there were also moments of triumph that you celebrated together. The day you released your first successful track as a group was one of the most memorable.

"Y/nnie, we did it!" Jisung exclaimed, pulling you into a jubilant hug.

The energy in the room was electric, as everyone danced and celebrated the hard-earned success. Min and Hyunjin were already planning a celebratory dinner, while Changbin and Innie were busy taking selfies to capture the moment.

"Group photo, everyone!" Seungmin called, setting up the camera.

As you all huddled together, arms around each other, you felt a profound sense of belonging. The smiles, the laughter, and the sheer joy in that moment were a testament to the bond you shared.

Looking back, you realized that finding your family in Stray Kids was a journey filled with highs and lows, laughter and tears. Each member brought something unique to your life, creating a sense of belonging that was irreplaceable.

Chan's protective nature and unwavering support made you feel safe and valued. Minho's teasing and tough love reminded you of the importance of balance and perspective. Hyunjin's artistic soul and passion for beauty inspired you to see the world through a different lens.

Changbin's motivational drive and fierce determination pushed you to achieve more than you ever thought possible. Jisung's lighthearted jokes and playful spirit brought joy and laughter into your life. Felix's gentle heart and deep compassion provided comfort and understanding.

Seungmin's calm demeanor and wise insights offered guidance and clarity, while Innie's youthful energy and admiration reminded you of the joy of discovery and growth.

In Stray Kids, you found not just friends, but a family that supported and uplifted you in ways you never imagined. The bond you shared with each member was a testament to the power of love, understanding, and unity.

As you looked around at your new family, you realized that you were exactly where you were meant to be. Together, you faced challenges, celebrated successes, and created memories that would last a lifetime. In Stray Kids, you found your home, your family, and your place in the world.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves @dis-trict9

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luvyeni · 1 year ago

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MY SHY NEIGHBOR ( chapter. 1 )

— CHAPTER ONE: moved in 📦💕

— 𖦹 warnings? language, 18+ jokes

previous chapter - next chapter - my shy neighbor masterlist

— ( taglist. OPEN ) @soulsbbg @k-poplv @yourmomscuntis2tighy @bbokarimenu @enczen @queen-in-the-shadows @thesweetesttattoo @ririlinoriri

💬nias’ notes: i decided to keep taglist open for a little longer since i did bump up the date. HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY IT🖤…

©LUVYENI

#[✨] my shy neighbor #kpop x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids texts #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz texts #yang jeongin fanfic #yang jeongin fic #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin smau #jeongin x reader #jeongin imagines #jeongin fic

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cosmicalily · 4 days ago

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"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

2. semantic memory | yang jeongin x fem!reader

semantic memory: a type of explicit memory that is categorised as general knowledge and information accumulated throughout an individual’s life.

author's note: oh, i missed writing for jeongin!! i was going to revert to my typical best friends to lovers but i decided to change it up (barely) and do roommates instead last minute! thank you for all the love on my seungmin fic, i hope you enjoy this one too!

Yang Jeongin was a good roommate.

He was reasonably quiet, but not uncomfortably so. He didn’t talk all the time, but he still joked around with you. He was clean and organised, but not meticulous or irritating about it. He did things without you asking; washed the dishes when you were staying up late to work on assignment, ordered you a Caesar salad and fries whenever he got takeout from his favourite Italian place, and always took whatever laundry you had with him when he went to wash his clothes.

When you went grocery shopping, you knew his favourite beer and ramyeon, and would always buy them for him. When you watered your plants, you’d always water his too, the ones he kept along the windowsill of his bedroom and on the balcony.

And apparently, when the air conditioning in his bedroom broke in the middle of summer, you’d let him temporarily move into your room. Or at least, that’s what you’d just told him.

“Really? Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to. I’m sure I can find a fan or something.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t mind. Honestly. I don’t do a lot of sleeping during the night anyway.”

“You’re always studying,” Jeongin rolled his eyes playfully.

“And you’re never studying, yet you somehow do so well in your classes. It pisses me off,” you groaned, giving him a light shove. “Anyway, you get the floor. Do you want some help migrating?”

The two of you dragged his mattress into your bedroom, out of breath and panting by the time it had been very unprettily dumped on your floor. He made the bed up with clean sheets, and offered to change yours as well. You thanked him, and told him you’d start making dinner.

When you’d finished, you called him, and he came out of your bedroom, shirt off, hair a little tousled. Your cheeks flushed pink and he raised an eyebrow at you in confusion.

“You look…nice,” you said awkwardly, handing him a beer.

“Thanks?” he chuckled, mouth full of rice.

You sighed dramatically. “Most boys would return the compliment,” you shook your head as you opened your bottle of peach soju.

“You always look nice. I tell you that all the time,” Jeongin replied, fumbling with the remote. “What show?”

“Brooklyn 99. And I always think you’re being sarcastic.”

“We always watch fucking Brooklyn 99. And no, I’m not. I thought that was obvious.”

“Because it’s the best show! And it’s not that obvious, not to me!” You protested.

Jeongin put his beer down and turned to you. “I’m so confused, why are we having two conversations at once?”

“You were the one who asked me two things.”

Jeongin pressed play on the episode. “One of them was a statement, the other was a question. You do always look nice. I’m not being sarcastic, I’m not a dickhead.”

“Some would argue that,” you giggled, and he gave you a gentle shove.

“Some would argue you’re a bitch,” Jeongin sighed. “But I put up with you.”

“Because you think I’m pretty?” you teased.

“Because of the rent,” he corrected. “How am I supposed to afford my own place in this economy? Although you’re a bonus, I suppose. Even if I have to watch Brooklyn 99 all the time and change your sheets.”

You kicked his shin. “You offered!”

He grabbed your leg with his hand and shifted it back into place, leaving his hand resting on your thigh. “Shut up. I’m trying to watch.”

“I thought you hated-” you laughed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jeongin groaned, and he pinned you to the floor, tickling you until the two of you collapsed in a laughing heap, the show still running, dinner half eaten, drinks long forgotten.

The one thing you’d failed to mention to Jeongin was your habit of falling off the bed during the night. You were a professional tosser and turner, and that often ended up with you snapping out of your dreams face-down on the wooden floor, bruises littering your hips, knees and any other joint that was lucky enough to be the first to break your fall.

When you woke up, you were mortified to find yourself not on exposed hardwood, but on a mattress. With someone else, who was staring at you curiously.

“Fuck!” you groaned, shoving your face into the sheets. “I’m sorry. When did I end up here?”

Jeongin checked his phone. “Maybe 4 am? I don’t know, I didn’t notice until I rolled over and somebody’s face was in front of mine.”

“What’s the time now?”

“Just past 7.”

You rolled over and stared at the ceiling. “I should get up then.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jeongin agreed, but neither of you made any attempt to move.

You looked around your room, interested in your lower perspective. It still looked empty, too similar to when you’d first moved in. You’d been so caught up in studying and seeing your friends that you had forgotten to properly decorate your room.

“Your room’s boring,” Jeongin commented, as if reading your mind.

“Rude. But you’re right,” you agreed. “Maybe during the summer I’ll decorate it. Buy some posters, maybe find some new furniture on Facebook Marketplace.”

Jeongin nodded in approval. “I can help, if you want.”

“How can I trust that you’ll pick good home decor?” you rolled to face him, squinting.

“I know your taste, I’ve been living with you a year now,” Jeongin replied, scrolling through his phone. “Trust me, I don’t think I’ve forgotten a single thing about you.”

You chuckled. “Aw, do you have one of those lists with all my favourite things or something?”

“Nope. It’s all in here,” he tapped the side of his head, smiling playfully.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you want me to prove it?” he asked, turning to face you, eyes serious.

“Okay, then I’ll do the same,” you agreed.

Jeongin ran a hand through his hair and set his phone down. “Your favourite fruits are peaches, but nectarines come a close second. If stone fruits aren’t in season, you’ll settle for citrus. You’re prescribed an iron supplement, but you never take it, because you say it tastes like metal. Your favourite colour is pale blue, but it didn’t match the personal colour analysis that app gave you and you’ve been angry about it ever since. You drink with your friends, but don’t like getting drunk while you’re out since you have a fear of being kidnapped. You haven’t had a boyfriend since 12th grade, and you’re secretly in love with me,” he finished, eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes at his final statement. “Alright, Yang Jeongin. You’re the youngest in your friendship group but hate being babied, and you wanted to be a primary school teacher growing up. Your favourite colour is green, and you can fit a whole slice of pizza in your mouth. You can actually sing decently well, but never do, and you actually love Brooklyn 99 more than I do. You love buying clothes, and your favourite place to do so is the vintage shop down the road, where you spend all of your time and all of your money. And, above all, you get no bitches.”

“Don’t you classify as a bitch?” He laughed. “You did well, though. Everything you said was right.”

“You were right too,” you sighed. “I really thought you were going to say something insanely stupid that I could tease you for.”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget that last statement?”

You ignored him. “I genuinely can’t believe you know that much about me. Fuck, I have to hide more about myself. I hate being perceived.”

Jeongin chuckled in amusement. “I pay attention. It’s weird hearing everything someone knows about you all at once. What am I supposed to do with that information?”

“I think we have to make out now,” you said casually.

He nodded, unsurprised. “I think we do.”

You shuffled closer, and he moved to lie above you, weight on his elbows. His eyes glittered, and his cheeks were tinged with peach. You smiled up at him, face warm and tingling. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours softly, and you sighed into his mouth at the feeling. You moved your hands to cup his cheeks, deepening the kiss, pulling apart when you both lost your breath.

“You were right,” you panted, lips swollen.

“About?”

“Me being secretly in love with you.”

He smiled. “Well, you were wrong. About me getting no bitches. It wouldn’t be presumptuous to assume you’re my bitch, considering the fact that we just kissed?”

“I won’t be for long if you keep calling me that. It’s girlfriend to you now,” you giggled, and he wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you tight onto his chest.

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taeminsung · 2 months ago

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pairing || jeongin (I.N) x reader

summary || dinners at home. (soft version)

it was almost like clock work for jeongin's arms to wrap around your waist as you cooked dinner for the two of you. he insisted on holding you close to him, gently swaying you as you continued to focus on your work in front of you. a small smile crept on his face knowing the deal he begged his older hyung to take was worth every second.

the arrangement was simple, jeongin would kick his leader out once a week for a night at home with you. in exchange, whatever was had for dinner, home made or take out, had to have enough for him the next day.

when jeongin had brought up the idea to you, he could have sworn you seemed to glow with excitement. he watched as your eyes sparkled as each detail was thoroughly explained. what he thought would be something he had to convince you into, you accepted with ease. cutting him off before he could finish. the end reason was enough to have your lips pressed against his.

he wanted to keep the romance alive.

that's all it was. to have the romance of your relationship be maintained even with the busy schedules and roommate. if he could find time to plan everything out, consistently weeks ahead, then you would give him the world.

it really didn't matter what was on the stove, jeongin's lips would softly kiss the back of your shoulder, before peaking over to see what you had decided on making. conversation would flow as time went on leaving no stone left unturned. something had been on your mind? a conversation was had about it. work was exhausting? jeongin would be brainstorming how to help you through it.

jeongin also always went the extra mile for you as well. flowers were set on the table, a bouquet in his room, and one ready for you to take home the next day to remind you of him. there was time it felt like it was too little, but during one of these nights you gushed for minutes about how much you loved it.

something about this night felt different for him though. you had changed into his cloths after arriving and moved throughout his space as if it were your own. when you reached for something in one of the cabinets, something he didn't even know where chan had stashed, did it settled in him. he wanted to spend every night like this for the rest of his life. pulling you back to his chest, he held you closer than normal, planning all the ways he could tell you he wanted this forever.

|| from mina with love ♡ ˚⁎⁺˳ ── something soft for the man who continues to bias wreck me daily. thank you for reading! ♡

#stray kids #jeongin #i.n #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #jeongin imagine #i.n imagine #jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #skz #stray kids fluff #jeongin fluff #i.n fluff #stray kids dream #stray kids fic #jeongin fic #i.n fic

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chvrrycola · 5 months ago

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STRAY KIDS X CLICHE MEETCUTES - YANG JEONGIN

word count | 0.9k

warnings | food mentions

now playing . . . appointments by julien baker

AN // the final part !! i hope you've enjoyed

the other meetcutes!

you didn’t know why, but you were not in a good mood today. no real reason behind it, no good excuse for the nasty look you had given the old lady in the street who almost bumped into you. you hadn’t slept badly, no one had said anything particularly mood-ruining, but something in you seemed to have just decided that you were not going to be good company for the next 24 hours.

you didn’t feel like spending time with anyone, didn’t even feel like looking at people, all you wanted was to head to the convenience store, grab your favourite ramen, take it home and let your grumpiness melt away with a dozen or so episodes of your favourite anime.

headphones on and hood up, you made a beeline for the aisle where you knew the noodles would be waiting for you. you were lucky, there was only one original flavour left, if you had been even a minute later you might’ve missed your chance.

as you reached out a hand to grab the packet, a muffled voice breached your space. you couldn’t hear what it had said over your music, so, reluctantly, you pulled your hood down and removed one earphone, not wanting to mislead whoever had spoken into thinking you might want to have any kind of real conversation.

you faced the voice, and the human it had come out of, and made an ‘i’m-sorry-what-did-you-say?’ face.

‘“damn, is that the last pack?”’ he repeated sarcastically. the guy was around your age, and clearly thought he was hilarious, though with your current mood, you were less inclined to think so.

‘uh, yeah, i guess so, sorry.’ you weren’t sure that your response would be much more intelligible than his voice had been, but you really just weren’t in the mood to converse, even if you were denying this guy the privilege of eating what was, as any intellectual would know, the superior instant noodle option.

he didn’t look particularly satisfied with your answer, and tapped you gently on the arm as you walked away.

‘i know this is probably really annoying, but are those like, your absolute favourite? i haven’t eaten them in a while and they’ve like my all-time greatest ramen.’

he did look apologetic as he begged you to exchange, and you found yourself almost feeling willing to make some sort of a compromise, but they were your favourite too.

‘kind of, yeah, i’ve tried all the variations but none of them are really on the same level.’

‘ugh yeah, you’re so right, i remember thinking that the crispy chicken one sounded really good when they first announced it but i tried it the first day and it was just… bad.’

you suppressed a laugh, finding it funny how intensely serious this random man seemed to be about his taste in ramen, before realising that you couldn’t really talk, considering that you still had no intention of sacrificing the packet.

‘how about this,’ he began, re-energised somewhat by the apparent genius of his idea, ‘you let me have the original, but i’ll pay for whichever other one you decide to get.. no? okay how about i buy you three more packets then?’

he seemed genuinely convinced that this was a good deal - at least until you pointed out that you didn’t want three packets of random sub-par ramen when your favourite would probably be back in stock the next day.

the man had just opened his mouth to try and offer a different reason why you should give up the noodles when a middle-aged man entered the aisle with the pair of you.

‘sorry you two, you don’t know if they keep the original flavour somewhere else do you?’ he noticed the packet in your hands, ‘ah, i must be too late, my daughter told me they tend to go quickly, nevermind.’

he began to leave and you caught your new debate partner side eyeing you as he walked away. maybe you weren’t feeling quite as icy as you thought.

‘excuse me,’ you called out, ‘you can have these, i hope your daughter enjoys them.’

the middle-aged man tried to object, insisting that you kept them, but you were sure.

‘it’s fine really, there are plenty of other good flavours.’

he smiled and thanked you, turning once again to go and pay.

‘plenty of good flavours? so there are plenty of good flavours now?’ you rolled your eyes, but he continued, ‘what is it about that guy and his daughter that’s so deserving of the world’s most magical instantaneous ramen noodle experience?’

‘maybe i can buy you three other packets to make up for it,’ you suggested dryly, picking out another flavour at random and moving to go and pay yourself.

‘hey wait up!’ the voice came from behind you, followed by a quiet rustle suggesting that he too had bitten the bullet of semi-disappointing ramen.

‘i’ll pay,’ he said once you were back walking in step, ‘cos i was so annoying about it earlier.’

you tried to object but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, taking the packet from your hands easily and beginning to scan the barcodes.

‘besides, if i pay, this can officially be our first date.’

he tried to wink at you, failing miserably and instead awkwardly blinking in your direction, but you laughed and went along with it, agreeing to sit outside with him as the sun set over the river.

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lixie-phoria · 9 months ago

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[14.0 sweater weather] BETTER THAN REVENGE !

◂ previous | masterlist | next ▸

the night was loud. between jeongin and han's bickering, changbin's laughter, and chan's occasional reprimands, there was no place for awkward silence. even as the seconds advanced towards midnight, and the rest of the campus fell into a peaceful silence, jeongin's dorm was filled with noise.

and for that, you were grateful.

"you dumbass you didn't boil the ramen enough!"

"I did. This isn't my first time making ramen!"

"no it's still-"

"ok that's enough," chan interjects, throwing an exasperated glare at the youngest boys of the group. "Han if you think the ramen is undercooked just add warmer water to it."

"I don't think that's how it works-"

"oh for fucks sake just eat the damn food!"

you watch in amusement as the boy sinks further into the couch, a pout puckering against his lips as he shoves the chopsticks into his mouth.

"nobody ever takes me seriously here-"

"anyways!" changbin exclaims, meaningfully pinching han's side as his eyes raise to meet yours, "we have more important stuff to discuss than how jeongin makes ramen."

it takes you a second to realize all their eyes have turned to you - although jeongin looks unwilling.

"so yn, innie here isn't giving you too much trouble, right?" changbin teases, digging his elbow into his friend's side.

"of course i haven't-"

"let her speak!"

you laugh at the way jeongin huffs, crossing his arms before falling back into his seat, avoiding your eyes.

"he's a pain. i can't wait for this to be over," you play along - much to han and changbin's excitement as their eyes light up.

"has he? well that isn't acceptable, is it?"

"can you leave me alone?"

but that seemed to be the last thing on any of their minds as they turn their attention towards you again.

"you know when he first told us about your arrangement we were a bit worried," chan adds, "but this seems to be working out for you guys."

chan was by far the only one who hadn't teased the youngest boy, but you could clearly see he was just as interested in the conversation.

"yeah well, we're trying. we'll see how much it's really helped him after our test next week."

"yeah-"

"but has this been helping you as effectively?"

you blink at han in confusion as he leans forwards from the couch.

"what?"

"han drop it-"

"you know with the entire making yeonjun jealous plan? i hope you've been giving his cheating ass a hard time!"

yeonjun.

cheating.

oh.

all the progress you had made came crashing down in that single moment.

han hadn't anticipated the depth of his words, obviously. it was a mistake, and you understood that, but the weight still fell like solid lead down your stomach. your throat clogged up, and you could barely meet any of their eyes as the culprit slapped a hand across his mouth, evidently regretting it.

cheating little slut.

yeonjun's words came breaking through the barriers you had tried so hard to build.

it's your fault.

you didn't think it was possible, but your mother's words pierced deeper than yeonjun cheating on you.

any sensible boy would break up with you.

she was probably right. nobody in their right minds would like someone who couldn't even bring herself to move past the boy who had cheated on her.

you should apologize to him. like your mother expected you to.

your company had obviously picked up on your discomfort, and if you hadn't been so caught up you would be embarrassed at the revelation of the chink in your armor.

"you dumbass," you hear changbin hiss under his breath.

"yn im sorry-"

jeongin was the first to act - slipping his hand into yours to pull you up - sending a sharp glare towards his roommate.

"i think we're done for today," he said, gently guiding you towards the front door, picking up your books on the way.

"you guys clean up, please. i'll drop yn back to her dorm."

he only gave you enough time to bid your goodbye to the three boys - including a forgiving smile towards han - before you two stepped out into the cold night.

"you don't have to walk me back."

"it's past midnight, yn. i'm not letting you go alone."

you were grateful, despite your hesitance. the last thing you wanted was to be alone with your thoughts.

"and i'm sorry about han. he didn't mean to bring him up."

you shake your head, patting jeongin's arm in comfort. "it wasn't his fault, don't worry about it. and please tell him not to feel guilty either. it's alright."

"but are you sure you're okay?"

were you okay?

you didn't know.

until the last match, you and yeonjun were technically still on good terms. there had been no bad blood.

but after your argument? you didn't even know where your relationship stood.

you hadn't broken up officially. you were still together, and the thought was sickening. not because you wanted to break up with him. no. but because it was reassuring. and you hated the little comfort that it bought.

"yn?"

your gaze snaps to the side as jeongin's hand softly brushes yours.

"sorry, i was just thinking," you sheepishly mutter, avoiding his eyes.

he doesn't push any further, and the rest of the walk is spent in silence until you reach your block.

"thanks jeongin."

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats, smiling back as the street light shines down on him, highlighting his features.

"don't worry about it. sleep well, yeah?"

you almost send him away with that, but the cold breeze that flutters past your skin jars you into your senses.

"wait!"

you hastily take off your hoodie, patting down your ruffled hair as he turns to look at you in confusion.

"something wrong?"

"it's cold. take this. you didn't carry yours," you say, thrusting the article at him, avoiding his eyes.

"oh it's fine-"

"we have an important exam coming up. i'd hate it if you fell sick because of me."

he doesn't notice the blush dusting your face as he thankfully accepts the warmer clothing, and you're grateful for the dark.

"thanks yn."

"i should thank you."

he grins at you one last time before he's on his way back, absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeves of your hoodie, sending a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. you hoped you weren't imagining the tips of his ears turning red. you hoped he would keep it, and only give it back when it had caught on to his scent.

in a much better mood than with which you had set out from his dorm, you almost manage push away yeonjun to the back of your mind.

that is until your phone notifies an incoming message.

never mind.

©lixie-phoria, 2024

taglist open! Send an ask to be added :)

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skz-streamer · 1 year ago

Text

Teddy Bear

Simptober Small Things You Do M-list

Pairing: Jeongin (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Flufffffff

Warnings: mentions of being lost?

Notes: Its short ik :( but I hope its still cuteee GET READY FOR REMINDERS TMRWWWWW

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Word count - 367;)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The amusement park was bustling with excitement and laughter as people from all around gathered to enjoy the various attractions and rides. You and Jeongin had decided to spend a day at the big convention that was taking place at the park, indulging in some couple-y activities and making the most of your time together.

As you strolled through the park, the dart stand caught your eye. The line was long, and the crowd seemed to be vying for those coveted plushies as prizes. You couldn't resist the urge and turned to Jeongin with a hopeful smile, saying, "Innie, can we try to win one of those plushies?"

His eyes sparkled with affection as he looked at you, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he replied, "Of course! Anything for you."

You both stood in line, eagerly waiting for your turn. However, as fate would have it, you needed to use the restroom. You told Jeongin about it in passing, and he nodded, assuring you that he would save your spot.

After you used the bathroom, you made your way back to the dart stand, you were greeted with a sight that filled you with a mix of panic and curiosity. The crowd had grown larger, and you couldn't spot Jeongin anywhere. You called out his name a few times, but the noise of the crowd swallowed your voice.

With a hint of desperation, you decided to call him on your phone, hoping he'd pick up. "Innie! Where are you?" you asked, your voice laced with worry.

His voice came through the phone, "Turn around!"

You spun around on your heels, and there he was, holding those iconic large teddy bears, a mischievous grin on his face. Relief washed over you as you rushed into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Thank goodness you're here!"

He chuckled, handing you one of the teddy bears, and you kissed him on the cheek, expressing your gratitude in dialogue. "Thank you, Innie."

He beamed at you, his affection evident as he said, "I love you, baby."

You returned his affectionate words with a soft smile, replying, "I love you more."

Jeongin couldn't resist a playful challenge. "No, I love you more."

—————————

Tags: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-jilee @sungiesoonie @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids @jinnie-ret @bbygrlhannie @rebecca-johnson-28 @turtledove824 @interstellarairwaves @yearofthetiger25 @minhos4thkitty @fiqire @backintomykpopphaseagain @liknws @tinyelfperson @aaasia111 @yangbbokari

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luvknow · 7 months ago

Text

after her | yang jeongin

summary: a lonely yang jeongin, fresh from a break-up, finds what it means to be happy again while living with his best friend in the big city. you fall victim to his signs of affections, struggling to define if he’s emptying what’s leftover from his relationship or if they’re truly meant for you. you’d live through the endless heartache if it meant he would smile again. characters: female reader x yang jeongin & stray kids ensemble. genre: romance, friends-to-lovers, hurt with comfort, happy ending. additional warnings: alcohol consumption, university party, some mature dialogue and situations, song lyrics. wc: 11.2k

Jeongin placed the last of his boxes in the living room of his new place you two shared. While you were away at work, he employed an off-duty Minho and Jisung with promises of pizza and beer as payment.

A low whistle escaped Jisung’s lips as his eyes scanned the condo. “Pretty decent for the price in the middle of the city.”

Jeongin wiped the sweat off his brows. “It helps that _____ is a functioning adult.”

“You’ll get there in a couple of months,” Minho patted his head. “Relax while you can before your job starts. The adult world is not kind.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Jisung shrugged. “Find a hobby. Adopt a pet. Read a book. Don’t worry about anything! What more can a bachelor want?”

“Go to the club, hop on a dating app,” Minho suggested before Jisung hit him.

The first box Jeongin opened was one he wasn’t supposed to. On top, it wasn’t labeled, but on the side in big bold letters was, ‘TRASH. BURN. DONATE. WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT OPEN!!!!!’ On the top layer of stuff was a framed picture of him and his ex-girlfriend under the cherry blossom trees, her eyes curled like sparkling moon crescents and him looking at her like she was his whole world. Beneath were various memorabilia from blind box trinkets to old sweaters of his that still smelled like her perfume. As his heart cracked a bit more, he flopped on the couch face-first, groaning muffled by your decorative pillows.

Minho hit Jisung back. “I told you not to bring that one in!”

“He took it from me before I knew what box it was!”

The two were left unloading the Rent-a-Truck alone as their youngest friend tried to not let too many tears ruin the fabric of the couch. They’d give him a pass this time, but the next warranted multiple rounds of drinks. Jeongin’s energy bled from his body and was absorbed into the cushions, gluing his cheek down until a permanent imprint of the weaved fabric formed on his skin. His eyes stared blankly at the door after his personal mover-bros left and until you walked in, home from a long day of work. A total of six hours where he didn’t move, barely breathing, hoping evolution would kick in and he’d be able to live his life photosynthesizing.

You smiled sympathetically at the damage before you; a pile of boxes, untouched take-out, and an unmoving boy with redness around his eyes that stared off into nothingness.

“Hey, bud,” you began awkwardly. “How’re ya doin’?”

You received a lazy groan in response. He turned over to face the back of the couch, unwilling to elaborate further.

Jeongin called you last Sunday at 2:13 AM. Your first feeling was irritated, as he had better be in some deep shit to be waking you up at this hour on a work night. What you got was worse. Way worse. In a fit of tired, breathless, chest-squeezing sobs and snot-filled sniffles, Jeongin confessed that his girlfriend of just over a year had broken up with him. It was a shitty time to do so, as he was in the middle of signing for a lease after she begged him to move to the city to be closer to her. Luckily, the leasing agency was sympathetic and he went forward with canceling the signing.

The conversation that led him here in your home occurred after he was able to breathe through his tears, wondering what he was supposed to do with his new job contract, and it went like this:

“You’re already mentally prepared to move to the city. Why not do it anyway?”

“What’s the point?” he had asked with a voice so tired of crying. “There’s no reason for me to be there anymore.”

“I’m here,” you replied, offended. “You get to hang out with the most important person in your entire life -”

“By default.”

“I’m going to give you a pass on that because you’re hurting, but you called me, remember?” you had scoffed. “The city will be good for you. Better food, better drinks, things to do, people to meet. Things to distract you, y’know?”

“I can’t do this alone.” There was a long pause before the sniffling and sobs filled the silence on the other end. “If I live alone, I might never leave my apartment.”

Without hesitation, you had said, “Come live with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Come live here with me! We’ll turn my office into your bedroom, and voila; casa de _____ and Jeongin.”

“I can’t do that to you. You worked so hard for that place to be your haven.”

“You are my haven,” you had emphasized. “Let me be yours, too.”

A short chuckle on his end. “Cornball.”

Progress was far from linear and the hardest point was ascending from zero. Jeongin was in the negatives. Probably because he had opened a box full of outdated signs of love he and Sieun had given each other the past year and two months. Your face wrinkled in disgust at the sight of her glowing face in a heart-shaped frame. And Jeongin had called you the cornball… Maybe you were a certified hater, but you had to get rid of this box of trash now.

When you bent to pick it up, he gripped your wrist and stopped you.

“Don’t,” he muffled into the pillows.

“Keeping this isn’t good for you.”

“Neither will throwing it away.”

“How about we compromise,” you sighed. “Let’s store it in my closet until you’re ready to toss it. Out of sight, out of mind.”

His answer was letting go of you and allowing you to touch the most tender parts of his heart to store away in your dark, cold, lifeless but stylish closet for it to wither away. You didn’t want any parts of her near your room at all, but you kept muttering, ‘This is for Jeongin. This is for him because you love him, for some reason,’ as a reminder.

You’d repeat that reminder maybe ten times a day for the past week for stupid shit like him not washing his dishes, not putting the toilet seat down, drinking all your specialty alcoholic beverages you liked to save for after-work woes, but what pushed you over the edge was the empty stash of your favorite snack.

“Ok, I’m done!” you yelled. After a long day of Teams meetings and smiling at sleazy men twice your age, all you wanted was a little treat! A little snack! But when you opened your pantry, you were left with an empty box. He couldn’t even throw the damn box away!

You opened the door to his room where he sat in his gaming chair, yelling at his bros on Discord. He paid no mind to the noise, since his gaudy headphones blocked everything and likely bruised his eardrums. So when he couldn’t hear you calling his name, you went up to the microphone.

“Sorry, boys, Jeongin has some chores to do!” You heard a muffle of ‘boos’ from Chan and Felix on the other end before unplugging his set-up.

“What the hell, _____! That was a ranked game!” he whined.

“You!” you seethed, grabbing the remnants of your snack bags before chucking the empty box at his face. “You gluttonous squirrel-faced stupid, stupid boy!”

“Ooh, yikes. I know that tone.”

“You couldn’t bother texting me that we were out?!”

“They’re just snacks, we can buy more.”

“We, who!? Who’s paying the mortgage here? Who’s the one with an actual job at the moment?!”

“I start next month, ok?! And you agreed to a prorated rent because of that!”

“Being jobless doesn’t give you the right to live in my home like a slob! There are responsibilities for adulthood! There are chores and rules for living under my roof!”

Jeongin had this stupid face he’d put on to get whatever he wanted. It worked with Sieun, and sadly worked for you, too. He wheeled himself over on his new four hundred dollar chair (“For ergonomics!” he had argued) and pulled you in between his legs. His arms wrapped around the back of your thighs and his chin rested on your stomach. The stupid, adorable, troublemaker face was up-turned brows, pouting lips, and eyes that twinkled from the lighting above.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “It just… feels nice to be taken care of right now.”

Ugh. Maybe you were being too harsh. A week’s worth of annoyance was nothing compared to a week’s worth of trying to glue back pieces of his heart together when they kept falling apart. Or maybe that was the spell he put you under with his dreamy eyes talking. You couldn’t think straight with your constricting office wear on.

You kissed your teeth. Your hand grabbed a chunk of his curly brown mop of hair and pushed him off of you. “You stink. Shower and get ready; you’re buying me new snacks at the grocery store.”

“But I don’t need to go grocery shopping.”

“You have one pack of instant ramen left; yes, you do.”

–

One of your first memories with Jeongin was the day before you both started secondary school. The last day of summer was spent under the stars on a trampoline in his backyard with empty cans of cola scattered out on the grass. Your heads touched while bodies were oriented in the opposite direction, semi-Spiderman style.

You were the first to voice what you feared most. “Do you think things are going to change?”

He shook his head adamantly. “Never.”

“Nothing is ever non-zero.”

“Must you nerdify everything?”

“It’s not on purpose. I can’t help it.”

“Except you could.” Jeongin sighed, whether out of disappointment or enjoying the feeling of the cool night air, you had long forgotten. His black, too-short-for-a-bowl-cut pin-straight hair poked your ears whenever he turned and knocked his head against yours.

“Ow,” you whined. “What?”

He pointed to the sky. “See that?”

“Stars.”

“Do you recognize the constellation, smartass?” Astronomy wasn’t your strong suit. “Scorpio and Lupus.”

You shrugged. “Who do you think would win in a fight: ten scorpions or one wolf?”

“That’s not the point of my question,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But the correct answer is ten scorpions.”

“What’s the point, then? Of anything, really?”

He pointed to the sky again. “Things will change only when the stars do.”

“Apocalypse-style?”

“Exactly. When they do, it’ll be the end of the world.”

You giggled, tilting your head closer to his. “Cornball.”

“What is a cornball, anyways? Like, a chicken nugget made of corn?”

“Genetically-modified corn in the shape of a ball.”

At thirteen, you both thought these conversations made you comedic, thought-provoking geniuses. They were typical teenage nonsensical word-smithing that’d later evolve into witty adult assholery, but they were ones you’d cherish ‘til the end of time.

“Never change, _____ _____.”

“You, too, Yang Jeongin.”

Tonight, the night sky was as clear as the night before secondary school. It’s been a couple of weeks since Jeongin moved in and progress was there, but it was slow. Some days, he’d spend all day in bed under the covers and you’d have to force-feed him sustenance and flip him over to prevent bed sores. Some days he spent the entire day deep cleaning the tile grout with a toothbrush until his knees were purple. The worst nights were like tonight, where you’d come home to an empty bottle of some mystery brown liquor you didn’t remember purchasing and him passed out on the couch.

It was exhausting for this short amount of time. It was a rollercoaster of emotions and outbursts and constantly having to take his phone away from doing something stupid like calling or texting her. This wasn’t the Jeongin you were used to; you wanted the one who sang tunes and trot jingles, the one who burned mac ‘n cheese on accident, the one who’d wave to little kids when you were out together. The unmoving body was just a shell of him, and just as he struggled putting the pieces of himself back together, you struggled holding the ones he was able to find in place.

You lifted his head by his curls and plopped it back on your lap after taking a seat.

“Careful,” he groaned. “There’s precious real estate up here.”

You didn’t speak, distracting yourself by playing with his hair. His eyes were bloodshot and cheeks stained with drool and salty tears. Sniffles filled the silence.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, words a bit slurred. “I don’t like when you’re quiet.”

“Ask yourself that question,” you replied, mouth full of salt.

“You’re mad at me.”

“I care about you.”

“You’re mad because you care,” he nodded, understanding, or at least pretending to. “I care about you, too.”

Caring wasn’t enough. No amount of love and tenderness from you could replace the one Sieun gave him, and that was evident. How were you supposed to hold him together when she was his reason? You could only do so much, and your best was never enough.

He pointed to the ceiling. “Do you think Scorpio and Lupus are out tonight?”

“It’s cloudy.”

“Oh. Is it?” he sighed. “But they’re still there?”

“They’ll always be there.”

“Together?”

“Together. Forever, of course.”

“How do you know that?”

Was he asking with underlying intention or drunken oblivion? “I just do.”

Jeongin snorted. “Boooo.”

“Boo, you!”

“Ugh, stop moving!” His lips pursed as he rolled off of you. “Nope. I need to throw up.”

You followed him as he crawled into the bathroom, hunching over his toilet bowl. You held his hair back for a bit before realizing you could tie it back.

“It’s so long now,” you admired while tying back his front pieces.

“Sieun hated it,” the toilet echoed.

“I liked it. Very ‘bad boy’. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Yeah. She’s stupid, right?”

“So stupid.”

“Yeah! And so bossy!” He paused, gagging into the toilet. “Bossier than you! Can you believe that’s possible?!”

“I’m not bossy, I just know what I like when I like it and how I like it,” you patted his back a little too harshly this time, “nothing bossy about that.”

“And it’s a wonder why you’re single.”

A sharp pang pierced your chest. Your relationship status was a touchy subject. It’s not that you preferred to be single, but your job was mentally demanding and sometimes required long hours past sunset. It wouldn’t be fair to your partner when your life was devoted to your career and climbing the corporate ladder. Dates were few, and not too far in between, but none of the prospects were worth the trouble when half of them expected you to pay the whole bill when they found out your occupation.

You loved love. It was beautiful, it was kind, it meant always feeling whole. Of course you wanted to be in love. Of course you wanted to touch, to kiss, to always be intertwined with someone. Life was young, and there was time, but the shroud of loneliness grew longer and larger as the days passed. Suffice to say, your single status hit a nerve.

You patted his back hard enough for him to gag one last time. “Good luck not puking your guts out.”

“No, wait -” but you had already shut the door.

It was the kind of topic that elicited a long, hot, reflective shower until the water ran cold. Were you one of those working women who were doomed by capitalism to serve as a corporate slave until you could withdraw from your 401k at fifty nine and a half? To live a mediocre life and settle down with a five-rated coworker for the sake of reproduction and contributing to lowering the birthrate? To settle for the mundane and predictable? That wasn’t the _____ you knew. At the peak of your young life, when did owning your first place meant that it was the beginning of the end?

When you walked out of the steam cloud, Jeongin was buried beneath your duvet, staring at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the tired, but still awake city. When he first moved in, he mentioned how jealous he was of your nice bedsheets, and you wondered, in that moment, how many times had he napped in your bed without you knowing. Annoyed, but willing, you crawled in behind him, too tired to argue.

He wiggled back, making sure your bodies touched, though he wanted to keep looking out. “Being single isn’t bad… right?”

Was it bad? No. “I like my alone time.”

“But isn’t it lonely?”

It’s never ending. “Only a little.”

“Even when I’m here?”

Especially now, more than ever. “Just a little.”

“What’s your metric of ‘little’?”

Astronomical. “Like a pinch of salt.”

His breathing slowed, body ready to shut down for the night and hopefully awaken before noon. He wrapped your arms around him, begging for a hug, a bit of human connection, something to satiate the pain of wanting to feel whole with someone again. When you gave in, he melted into your touch. This feeling was familiar, but it wasn’t the same. You would never be her.

Just when you thought he fell asleep, you felt his chest jitter, suppressing a mouthful of sobs.

“I hate this,” he said, voice cracking, hands gripping your blankets while you played the big spoon.

You could only nod into the crevice between his wingspan. “I know.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Sometimes, there’s a reason; sometimes, there isn’t.”

“Then, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” you confirmed and squeezed him tighter. “People fall out of love all the time.”

“Isn’t that fucking terrifying?” he sobbed. “One day, you’re flying, high on life with someone you thought could make forever feel like a day. Next, they tell you they don’t love you anymore.”

“Love is complicated.”

“But it isn’t! When you know, you know. It just isn’t as complicated as many people make it seem. So, what? She knew she didn’t love me anymore? That’s it?”

Complicated isn’t only when someone who once lit up your life now felt like their own fire within fizzled in the darkness. It wasn’t waking up one morning and deciding that they stopped loving you. Complexity was built with intention and time, overthinking and self-reflection. It’s as complicated as math; despite the many ways you could achieve an answer, there was only one answer. Sieun wasn’t a bad person; in fact, you liked her for the time they dated. You figured despite all her might and the many times she tried, she couldn’t force herself to love him anymore. It’s not like she woke up one morning and thought, ‘I don’t love him anymore.’ It’s never just, ‘that’s it,’ as Jeongin claimed its simplicity.

Complicated is spending every moment of free time with someone who knew the deepest parts of you without letting the romantic feelings slip through the cracks. It was intending to confess and ruin a decade’s worth of bonds, all for it to stay hidden with your many secrets when he admitted to finally asking out the cute girl he met through a mutual friend of Jisung. It was saying, ‘I love you,’ to end a phone call while suppressing the ache in your chest as he’d say it to someone else the same evening.

To Jeongin, it was just that. Love. How could one make it so difficult? But to you, there were layers, and someone had to peel them back before you revealed the true nature of your heart. Because after this, after Jeongin was healed and you were left with no one to hold you together the way you had for him, you’d have grown an infinite number of layers to protect yourself. Your future partner would have a lot of work to do.

“Love is an organism. Organisms are complex. It comes in different forms and has different functions. When I say, ‘I love you,’ you think I mean, ‘I care for you,’ right?”

Jeongin didn’t answer. Verbally, at least. His leveled breathing and rhythmic chest rises told you he was fast asleep in a drunken stupor while you had contemplated your answer.

“Yes,” you sighed, snuggling closer, “you do.”

–

Most psychologists would agree that the stages of grief had an order to them. Jeongin, PhD in grief, would say otherwise. In the span of a single day, he’d go between as many as three of the stages. Lately, it was a cocktail of denial, depression, and anger. Today, there was only anger. The drawers would be shut a little too loudly, he’d chew his food a little too aggressively, and his volume and colorful language on Discord closely resembled a sailor.

“Where’s the damn support?!” he screamed into the mic.

“You said you’d be in Zone A!” you heard Jisung yell through his headset.

Jeongin didn’t bother with a response and hung up the call. After whipping his headset on his bed with the strength of a baseball pitcher, he ran a hand through his tangled mop and swore under his breath.

You leaned on his door frame. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up,” he whined.

“You know what would make you feel better?” You drew a rectangle with your pointer fingers, then wiggled the rest in a wave of flames. Then, boom! Big boom!

“No.”

“Jeongin -”

“You said I could wait until I was ready.”

“I think you need to be ready now.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore about that stupid box in your stupid closet with all the stupid fucking shit in it!”

If there was one act you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone, even with a bond thicker than blood, it was raising their voice. You had barely lifted your hand to point an accusing finger at him the same way his mom would, when he shut his eyes and realized his grave mistake. He knew he fucked up when your eyebrows were raised in that, ‘what did you just say to me?’ manner. He was also regretting how much time you spent with his mom.

“... Maybe we should take the box out,” he muttered.

“Yeah, no shit. Grab the hammers.”

Two adult-sized adult-aged children in hoodies carrying a mysteriously heavy box and a couple of hammers at a public park past sunset was not one would describe as inconspicuous. Jeongin was far from ready to address the box, you realized, when you were forced to carry it all the way and he refused to look at it. Even when you prepared the garbage bag and shuffled through the contents, he avoided any sight of strawberry blond hair and scents of neroli and jasmine. Semi-slicked with sweat, you took the box to the top of the jungle gym and dragged the big baby up to meet it.

“You left the trash bag down there,” he noted.

You nodded. “Grab that picture frame.” The first one was the red one shaped like a heart. You tilted your chin overboard. “Slam it.”

“Like, on the ground?”

“Yup.”

“That’s not very nice... Why can’t we just throw it?”

“Because I can’t be sure you won’t dig through the dumpster and drag filth across my floors.”

“Who do you think I am?!”

“Break it with all your might!” you demanded, pretending to be angry and Hulk-smashing on the stable platform. “Rah! Into the trash bag, though, please.”

“She gave this to me on our two-month-iversary. She said it was a symbol of her heart,” he reflected, gentle fingers wiping the dust that collected.

“And what did she do to yours?”

“Break it.”

“She stomped on it.”

“Yeah…”

“Crushed it!”

“Yeah…!”

“Stabbed it with a blunt butter knife!”

“Yeah!”

“And did it hurt?!”

“Like a bitch!”

“Rue the day!!”

“Rue the roux!!”

Someone’s hungry. “Yeah, sure!”

With a guttural scream passionate enough to elicit goosebumps, Jeongin chucked the heart frame into the trash bag that splayed on the cement. The plexiglass shattered into big chunks and the frame split in two, shards of wood scattering about. It was a picturesque and artistic display of anger and heartbreak, but you’d never admit how you admired the symbolism to Jeongin’s face.

“That felt good,” he panted.

“Yeah? Do this one,” you said, handing him a mug.

“We painted mugs to give to each other at one of those stores in the mall. She said I didn’t have enough pink things in my life, so pink would be her color for me.”

“Fuck the color pink!”

“I mean, I still like the color -”

“Innie, I’m giving free therapy right now and I need you to work with me,” you hurried him alone by rolling your arms.

“Ok, ok! Jeez. But even you look good in pink -”

“Jeongin!”

“Pink sucks…!” he admitted hesitantly before chucking it into the pile. A satisfying shatter of ceramic echoed into the cloudless night.

“Ooh, heartbreak ASMR,” you sang.

Jeongin pulled a pink lop bunny Sonny Angel, those naked baby blind box toys that will put you in crushing debt one day, from the pile of infinite junk. He twirled it in his hands carelessly. “Don’t you like these, too?”

It was a rarer, sought-out-by-collectors type. You and many others had fingers twitching over the overpriced pay button on the resale apps everyday. “No…” your voice cracked.

“How am I supposed to break this?”

“Pop its head off.”

“What?”

You pointed shakily to its cute, pink ears as it smiled innocently. Your hands pretended to yank apart the head from its body. “Decapitate it.”

Jeongin jumped at the low-effort strength it took, which masked your pained groan. There goes a hundred dollars. Then, he plucked away its appendages. You couldn’t bear to look when he tossed the innocent body parts. May you wish no ill will on any collector to ever witness such a murder.

The rest of the box was junk to a stranger, treasure to Jeongin. Things like concert tickets, an empty wine bottle, dried flowers, cologne, sweaters, and jewelry joined the garbage. The last piece was the final boss; a shadow box summary of everything they’d done in the past year. A collection of restaurant receipts, themed matches, movie tickets, polaroid pictures, and loving post-it notes of cheesy poems and ‘I miss yous’ were stabbed into the felt and protected by a thick cover of glass.

“I can’t,” Jeongin sighed, sharp eyes scanning through the memories. He shook his head. “I just can’t.”

“You know the ‘break for emergencies only’ thingies for the fire extinguishers?” you asked and pointed to the pink box. “This is an emergency.”

“She put so much time into this. Almost everything we’ve ever done is preserved… Just for her to throw it all away two months later.”

When he offered this perspective, perhaps your speech on love not being complicated was more introspective than universally accepted. Two months to know you stopped loving someone was not a long enough time. It took much longer than that to no longer be on the same page, or in the same stage of life, or, for fuck’s sake, fall for an affair partner, right? No matter what the answer was, it made you upset.

You could only offer an affectionate rub on his arm. “Do you want to save this for next time?”

Jeongin took an eternity to answer, as if he read every line of every receipt and every ticket or memorized the way she dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s. Then, he pulled you to him in a side-hug.

“There won’t be a next time.”

The frame of the shadow box split by the seams and only cracked the glass. The felt board was kept intact, of course, save for a few loose polaroids. He wrapped his second arm around you in a full hug, resting his cheek atop your head as your bodies swayed with the wind, needing the comfort of his best friend to protect him in this very vulnerable moment.

“You ok?” you muffled into his chest. He smelled of vetiver.

“No,” he admitted confidently, “I hope I will be one day.”

“You will! You will.”

You two remained on the top of the jungle gym overlooking the twinkling skyline in each other’s arms. His fingers traced little shapes across your shoulder blades, some recognizable like stars and moons, others a choreography of squiggles. Your arms rested holding his lower back. In the quiet night, miraculously not in fear of being arrested, you could have fallen asleep right there.

Tonight, you witnessed no tears or any evidence of them. No pink cheeks, or stuffy nose, or bloodshot eyes. Progress was here for now, and though it was too early to celebrate, you’d both bask in the little victories.

“I’m so proud of you,” you encouraged.

“Really?” he hummed.

“Of course! Always.”

His throat bobbed, swallowing down emotions that threatened to escape. “It still hurts so much.”

“I know,” you agreed empathetically.

“But the destruction helped.”

“See?” you boasted. “Who’s always right?”

“_____’s always right,” he squeezed, “always right and always kind.”

“And always here for you.” No matter how painful it’d be.

The night ended with slow dancing under the stars. Hand-in-hand and the other his shoulder, you led the steps to the beat of his songs.

–

Jeongin found no comfort that was better than your bed. The second you left for work, just as the sun rose and tinted the condo in blood orange, he’d sneak in and crawl under your duvet. When the softness of linen and the weight of the feather down knocked him out hard and for the first time in a month, he was able to fall into a deep sleep and would make this his routine until work started. His body had never felt so refreshed, even before the break-up. It smelled like you; like cherries, cream, and tonka bean. A scent cocktail that was so warm and sexy it was like he was put under a spell.

When you were kids, your room wasn’t dirty, but it was cluttered after falling into the feminine urge to gather all things shiny and trinkety. Now, he noted, adulthood hadn’t knocked that part of your brain out while still developing your frontal lobe. You didn’t have as many rocks lying around anymore, but your decoration consisted of naked baby toys and other colorful vinyl blind boxes, music albums, movie posters, and pictures of your loved ones.

Jeongin had looked through every picture in your room about a thousand times already, but only had now noticed that he was in almost every single one. Some were just with you and your parents, but even many of those had him in it. He liked the ones in your younger years; going through the gross and oily phases of puberty, matching ice cream-stained camp t-shirts, teenage-year birthdays, and his favorite was the one from prom night. You wore the sparkliest, glitter-sheddinng, not-the-most-flattering silhouette of a gown that many other girls matched in different colors. But he was just as ridiculous; too small in his poorly-tailored suit, sleeves folded, loose matching tie, and a crooked boutonniere. You both refused to do the prom pose because, ew, touching. So, you dabbed instead. Double ick.

If there was a picture with Jisung, he was in it. Minho? With Jeongin. Your girlfriends? Jeongin photobombed it somehow. He may have ruined some of the compositions, but he was your Jeongin, how were you supposed to throw them away?

Jeongin’s parents once asked if he would consider marrying his best friend. Knowing them, they were serious. At the premature age of twenty, he had gagged at the idea of marriage. Not to you specifically, but tied down? Early into his prime years of bachelorhood? No, thanks.

Then, he met Sieun, and thought maybe marriage was meant for him after all. Forever with the one person you loved so dearly, what could be bad about that? But forever meant really forever, not just a few years, or a few decades, it meant ‘til death do you part and into the afterlife, if that was even real. Maybe that’s what scared her. The thought of Jeongin being her soulmate crushed her world; the thought of her not being his soulmate crushed his. So, now he was back to square one, and he’d rather rot in your bed than make any progress.

Snuggled deep in between your plushies and pillows, he held above him a picture of you on your birthday. You were sitting next to him in front of your cake and had buttercream smudged on your nose while he was bent backwards in an evil cackle. He replayed the memory in his mind. You weren’t mad, but you wanted revenge, and shortly after had also smeared some under his nose in a stylish mustache.

In bed, he couldn’t help but snicker. In between sessions of handheld video games, he’d shuffle through more pictures until time passed by too quickly and the day was spent.

“Jesus -” you gasped, clutching your chest as you entered your room. “Yeah, sure, come in.”

“Thanks,” he sang half-heartedly.

“Have you been doing this every day?” He responded by shrugging. “He’s in pain, he’s hurting, and you love him…”

“I don’t like this picture of me.” Jeongin held up a recent one at a dinner party Hyunjin hosted for his condo-warming. His face was unprepared for the picture and his eyes were closed and mouth open. “I’m not even looking at the camera.”

“Yeah, but I look good,” you boasted.

He tossed it to the side of the bed in a pile of likeness dubbed, ‘throw these ones away’. “I like this one in front of the art museum, though.”

“I do, too.”

You hopped next to him on top of the covers, shuffling through the different piles he made. It was clear which ones he liked, disliked, and didn’t care for. “You don’t like this picture of me and Changbin on our graduation day?”

“Am I in it?”

“No?”

“Then, no.”

“You like this one, though?”

It was a solo picture of you on the same day. He found it hidden in a box of other pictures that were either blurry or of you alone at special events or academic and career achievements. You wore your gown and held your cap that was decorated with plastic jewels that spelled, ‘So Done with this B.S.’, high above your head with the brightest smile on your face. Around your neck was a necklace that he got you for your graduation gift: a petite padlock on a simple chain from one of those boutique brands all the girls liked.

This was one of the most important days of your life. You were happy, sunny, and beautiful. Of course he liked this one.

“Meh,” he shrugged. “I guess you look all right in that one.”

You spent the night in bed recalling stories and social media posts of times past with oily take-out from the corner restaurant downstairs. The quiet weeknight was livened by your giggles and ugly snorts and Jeongin couldn’t remember the last time you two did something like this. It lasted until it was too late to care to kick him out of your bed and you both fell asleep covered in film and prints.

If forever meant forever with you, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

–

Clubbing was a past time that Jeongin probably shouldn’t partake in due to his borderline alcoholism, but when it was for Jisung and Felix’s wombo-combo birthday bash (their words, if you’d even call them such), no one was safe from the heavy pour of Hennessey or bottom-shelf tequila down one’s throat. The weather was still appropriately warm to show off skin, and both you and your roommate took advantage of that, claiming that it was still hot-girl summer and this would be the best time to show off how perfectly fine everything was.

Jeongin rested his chin on your bare shoulder as you stared into the mirror. He had shown his affection more in a physical form after the destruction of his romantic paraphernalia. You should probably set some boundaries… Next time, maybe.

“You might as well go topless,” he teased, poking at your skin-tight top.

His touch tickled and your body stupidly reacted to it more sensitively than any other man who once touched you. “I’m sure you’d like that.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, only nuzzled his curls deeper into the crook of your neck. He styled it in the half-ponytail way you both came to love and work all black, sparkles of silver and pearls adorning his neck. Just as you had barely-there clothing, as did him, exposing hard-earned results of his efforts in the gym. His daytime clothes of soft linens and cottons dyed in innocent shades of blues and oranges matched his aura more than this edgy alter-ego that came out in the presence of alcohol. Soft Jeongin would be in a deep sleep tonight.

“Pearls?” you scoffed. “You slut.”

“Too much?”

“No, but you’re certainly sending the, ‘I’m single and very much looking,’ signal.”

“Perfect!” he shrugged. “When was the last time you went to a pregame, anyways?”

“When did you turn twenty-one?”

“Ok, grandma.”

You threw your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry I am a working woman.”

Skin touched more skin when his arm hooked your neck and dragged you to the door. The closer the taxi approached the condo, Jeongin’s hands more frequently wiped on his pants.

“Do you think she’ll be there?” he asked, sensing your concern.

“I don’t know,” you lied.

A couple weekends before this, you had personally asked the two celebrants to not invite her to the pregame. If they felt so inclined to invite her to the club for the sake of keeping the peace, at least then Jeongin wouldn’t have to be in close proximity and you could drag him away. Jisung was the one who tried to protest, but after begging and bribing them five rounds of drinks on the night-of, he caved in, though claiming he was going to not invite her anyways. He just wanted to see how far you’d go for your ‘beloved “friend.”’

“I need a drink,” he groaned.

“Look at me.” When he wouldn’t, you had to force him by grabbing his bare shoulders. They were much bigger than you remembered. “Say it with me; I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine?”

“I need more gumption, babe. Give me some umph!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“More!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine!”

“Yeah!”

“Smart, sexy, fine!”

“Yeaaahh!”

“Let’s drink!”

After tipping the taxi for suffering through your pregame to the pregame, you and Jeongin did more breathing exercises outside their condo to the tune of the hip-hop music inside. All charged up, he opened the door and you stood in awe just how many friends two boys had post-university. The floors were already sticky with juice and liquor, and there was barely room to get to the crowd of people you actually knew. Luckily, Jeongin was tall, and he grabbed your hand to lead you in. This, for some reason, felt more intimate than slow dancing at the park, and that’s when you knew you were embarrassingly touch-starved.

Jisung squeezed himself in between and slung his arms across the shoulders of his close friends. “Long time no see, sugar mama!”

“Hello to you, too, mooch,” you smirked. “Happy birthday, I guess.”

He landed a big wet one on your cheek. “Thanks, babe!”

“Ugh, ew. Where’s the other child?”

“_____! Jeongie!” the deep voice of an Australian boy slurred. He handed you two plastic neon shot cups of brown liquid and no chaser. “Shot o’ Henny! House rules.”

“You disgusting, gross, icky boys…” you groaned.

“C’mere,” Jeongin urged. He twisted his arm around yours so they’d cross, causing your faces to inch closer. His dimples poked his cheeks. “Bottoms up!”

That was the motto of the pregame. One after the other after the other after losing games in humiliating succession made your vision double and made walking feel like you were on a ship. Chan had to catch you not once, but twice, from tripping or bumping into someone. It was as simple as one hand on your waist and pulling you into his chest, to which you so shamelessly placed your hand on when he hugged you close.

“We keep running into each other,” he grinned, biting his bottom lip.

“Must be fate,” you flirted back.

For the second time, Jeongin had to pry you away from the hottest man in the room. Annoyed, you followed anyway, because tonight you were supposed to distract your best friend from falling into a hole filled with existential crisis, not trying to sleep with someone he considered his brother. Still, you shot Chan a hand sign to your ear. ‘Call me!’ you pouted.

“Why would you cockblock me like that?” you whined.

Jeongin didn’t answer right away. He cleared his throat. “It’s time for the club, silly.”

You two shared a sedan with the birthday boys and Minho. One person above the normal limit, but the driver didn’t care and would rather hurry to do the drop-off.

Jisung patted his lap. “Got your seat, sugar mama.”

“No,” you and Jeongin said in simultaneous deadpan.

“Felix, move up,” Jeongin demanded. He man-spread as much as Jisung and Minho allowed, making a small seat in between his legs.

You’d be the first to admit that sometimes you and Jeongin were a little too close to be considered friends; even strangers had mistaken you for a couple once in a while. But you’ve never been close to him like this before. Your hesitation was long enough that Jisung had to yank you into the car. You did your very best to settle in, moving your ass as little as possible, struggling with how you could make this any less awkward and cover the least amount of surface area.

Jisung wrapped Jeongin’s arm tight around your waist and slapped his triceps. “All buckled in!”

As Jisung and Minho yapped each other’s ears off, you and Jeongin remained silent. If you turned to talk to him, your ass would graze his pants, and that was weird, right? Yeah, weird, and it seemed he had a similar thought. The exception was tapping his fingers on your waist to the beat of the radio. His breath tickled the skin on your neck, and your body betrayed you by heating up your face. Touch-starved was an understatement. No, horny was not the right answer; you’d refute it.

You couldn’t have crawled out of the sedan faster. The other boys rushed in to line up at the bar (“Don’t forget what you owe us!” Jisung whispered (yelled)). Behind you, Jeongin scanned the crowd. You followed suit and couldn’t find a beautiful short girl with strawberry blond hair. Ok, this was a good sign. Maybe she wouldn’t come! He let out a breath of relief; or was it disappointment? Regardless, he joined you on the dance floor and weaved between people, dancing against the oontz-oontz.

In this moment, while your veins were half-filled with alcohol and both of your closest friends closed in with over-filled cups, you watched Jeongin forget his woes and sing to the sad up-beat electronic music. A circle would open up in the middle at the peak of the song; Changbin would break dance; Minho and Jisung would body roll; Felix did the worm; and Jeongin would force you into a connected chain reaction of shoulder and arm waves. In these moments, he smiled. Grinned, even; dimples as deep as they could be and eyes twinkling under the neon lights from the DJ.

When the boys dispersed for another drink after a couple of hours of burning calories, you two were left alone again. In those hours, you couldn’t count how many times you made eye contact. After locking eyes again, feeling the highs of euphoria and the lows of heartbreak, he looked like he was going to say something. Then, he broke it, and his face dropped. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, but like a moth to a flame, you were attracted to the pain.

She greeted Jisung and Felix at the bar on the opposite side of the club. It was too easy to spot her in the dark with her bright hair. She introduced the boys to someone next to her, touching his arm and leaning against him affectionately, making it as clear as the vodka shot in her hand that’s who she was with and he was hers.

How quickly the human heart beats for a lover, just for it to dance to the same rhythm for another.

Jeongin seemed apathetic. Not angry, not sad, and maybe unable to distinguish between if this was the ache of betrayal or the nostalgia of closing a chapter that begged to end.

Speaking of nostalgia, an old EDM song that premiered in your early years of middle school began, the familiar notes from a piano causing the whole club to scream.

You reached out to your soulmate. “You love this song.”

He smiled, eyes tired and filled with sadness, though without the reflection of a pool of stars. “I do love this song.”

You led him to the front where the DJ played Clarity. Lost in the crowd packed like sardines with strangers, you and Jeongin were free to sing out the shadows that slept in your hearts.

“Hot dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life,” you sang at a horribly off-tune. “C’mon, I know you know it!”

“If I fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time,” he sang in perfect key.

“Louder! Hold still right before we crash ‘cause we both know how this ends!”

“A clock ticks ‘til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again.”

You forced your heart to sing its song and it retaliated in waves of tragedy. As your lips stretched to retain the smile, you screamed with the crowd, “‘Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

And he joined in, matching your volume, matching your energy. “Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don’t know why!”

In unison, you threw your heads back, crying into the air at the peak of the song. Like shadows, the crowd mimicked each other with hands curled into fists and hearts raised to the sky. “If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?”

“Let’s go!” you cheered.

The beat picked up and the crowd jumped to the chorus. The bass of the song reached your heart and pumped blood through your veins, tired from fighting with rationality. You would take these short five minutes to let go, let your heart confess to the boy in front of you in the form of a 2013 poetic masterpiece. Despite the meaning, the beat was too sick and you couldn’t help but grin from the fun. Jeongin wasn’t one to hide emotions for the sake of saving face, but it was like he forgot why he was screaming as he headbanged his way through the wordless chorus. You both burst into a fit of giggles, blinded by the lasers that cut through the smoke machine.

As the song progressed, the more your bodies pressed together. Side by side, mixing sweat with sweat, you both screamed at the DJ the second verse and would turn to each other again for the iconic bridge. His dimples carved into his perfect skin and this would be a core memory you’d lock away forever despite the molotov cocktail of despair that ignited in your gut.

The line you screamed to your best friend was the one that branded itself into your whole being. It was the one line he refused to sing.

“You are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

He didn’t continue the pattern of bouncing off lines from each other. He stopped jumping, brows furrowed in a way that concerned you more than it concerned him.

“What?” you paused.

Jeongin closed the gap between your bodies. Surrounded by violent waves of people, you blocked them out within the bubble, unable to hear the song anymore. His hands cupped your cheeks. Your mind registered a second too late that he was wiping something with his thumbs. It felt wet and warm, freshly flowing on your numb face.

His hands left your face and found your arms. You watched as he wrapped them around his neck and his dropped to your waist. The strength of his grip was desperate and longing, filling an emptiness that physically you could replace, but lovingly couldn’t replicate. You begged your body to step away, to run out and find Chan or anyone else; to go home even, but tonight your heart controlled your mind and overwrote the command. This was what you wanted, what you needed, what you dreamed of since secondary school. To be in the arms of the one you loved fulfilled the one level on the hierarchy of needs, but was a threat to the one below it. Your body was struggling to respond to its fight-or-flight, understanding that you had long crossed the thin line between friend and lover long ago with a size thirteen shoe, but it had betrayed you and glued your heels to the sticky dance floor.

Why was Clarity the longest fucking song in the world?

The smell of his pink peppercorn and cedar hit your senses and brought you back to life. You felt his forehead against yours, nose touching nose, his breath tickling your lips, and saw his eyes float between them and your now dry eyes.

“Why?” was all you could muster against his lips.

He answered by swallowing your words. You never understood the comparison of the softness of rose petals until you felt his. You kissed him shyly, waiting for him to pull away in a shocking realization of regret and prepared for the aftermath. But when you wouldn’t respond how he wanted, he pressed harder, moving his lips hungrily and mouth open and welcoming to receive. Your tongues danced and tasted the bitterness of tonight’s drinks, old lovers, and repressed confusion. But it felt good; so, so good. To be the one he wanted for once, whether it was real or for convenience, was an opportunity you pathetically couldn’t pass.

And your heart, how it soared! With wings made of wax, you were high above the clouds, tangling yourself with him and exchanging euphoric hums. But your dreams were sculpted by Daedalus and delusion was the sun, and though you wished to remain here forever, your wings began to melt and reality wouldn’t be kind enough to soften the fall.

When you broke for air in the middle of the next song, you felt pressure rise in your nose and eyes as a million tears collected. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted; or rather, you weren’t what he wanted. He wanted the same memory, the same cry of song, the same touch, the same kiss, the same taste of breath; just not yours. He wanted hers. You knew in the deepest corner of your heart that he imagined holding her instead and that her breath was the one he’d breath in. In the ideal scenario, you’d be out by the perimeter watching your best friend win back the woman of his dreams and he’d hold her so tightly, afraid that she would drown in the crowd. You were meant to be his biggest fan, not his greatest love.

“Why?” you cried again.

He shook his head. “I just thought -”

“This isn’t right.” But you wished it was.

Outside, the busy streets in the middle of the night were deafened by the bass and proximity to the DJ. It was a miracle you heard the honk of a nearby taxi that’d take you home.

No, you wouldn’t confess to your best friend in a club downtown. No, you wouldn’t confess any other time regardless of circumstance. This was a secret the recipient of an unrequited love was supposed to bury with them to their grave because it was the deepest sin committed between two best friends. As long as you didn’t confess, the bond wasn’t severed and the damage could be repaired. That’s how it was supposed to work, anyways.

For the night, you’d lock yourself in your room. You’d close off any and all avenues in order to protect and repair the critical condition of your heart. So much of it had been chipped away and given in pieces to fill the gaps that Jeongin was missing, but now he was confusing kindness for love and familiarity with feeling whole. How would you get back the pieces of yourself you so willingly gave up? Would your heart know to create those pieces into something new, or would it reject anything that came in its place that wasn’t from him?

You arrived home and washed away the sins until your skin burned from all the scrubbings. The sky was cloudy tonight as you looked outward into the lively streets of young adults who could party until the sun snuck above the horizon. The stars wouldn’t show themselves tonight.

Would Scorpio and Lupus be there tomorrow?

–

When your door handle wouldn’t give, Jeongin gave up and retreated to his room some time after 3:00 AM. He laid in bed and hated the feeling of his bed sheets. They weren’t as soft and they didn’t envelope him in a blanket of clouds as yours did. Though the ceiling color was the same as yours, in a sense, it still wasn’t the same, as he was in his own room and not where he belonged.

You had burned into his soul. The way your lips felt, the way your tongue swirled, the way your hands pulled him in, was the answer of how much you yearned for him. He was no stranger to signs of affection. No friend would do all of this with their heart in platonic mode. You didn’t look at him the way Felix or Chan or the others did. You, with your softened eyes and gentle touch, had him in your heart, for the Gods only know how long.

Jisung was the one to kick him out of the club and kick what little sense was left in him. “Go after her, you idiot!”

His lips were tingly. The feeling of your hands through his hair, fingers gentle and tracing the map to your heart, was carved into his scalp. His tongue swiped across his lips, lonely and aching to have another taste.

You infected him. You forced poison down his throat that made him unable to sleep, torturing him with a recording of your body pressed on his. He blamed you for how it planted itself and festered into something more salacious; a similar scenario, with tangled limbs and messy hair, but in the privacy of your bedroom and much less clothing.

In the days that followed, you pretended that night never happened, but something changed. Your responses were shorter, your cheeks were pinker, you couldn’t hold eye contact without faltering to his lips, you wore baggier clothes, and couldn’t even spend more than fifteen minutes in the same room without having to leave to ‘get water’ or ‘go to the bathroom’.

Why, for the love of all the Gods, hadn’t you confessed yet? Isn’t that the rational next step?

“Why would she?” Minho snorted while kicking his feet up on your coffee table. Jeongin would wipe that down later.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he repeated.

“You understand you live here, too, right?”

“So…”

“So… isn’t that weird? What are you going to say? ‘Cool, I’m still not over Sieun though, sowwy. Can I still live here, though’?”

“But I am!”

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear. Seeing her with that guy… sure, it sucked ass, but I don’t know. No one ever likes to see their ex with someone else.”

“No one likes taking care of someone they love who loves someone else, either.”

Jeongin pulled the string on his hoodie and hid inside. “I just feel like a confession would get rid of all this tension -”

“Sexual tension.”

“Regular tension.”

“And change the trajectory of your friendship and lives forever, so much so that the stars would misalign and chaos would ensue. Just as the prophecy foretold,” Minho rolled his eyes. “You know what, Jeongin, you’re right - _____ should confess her undying love to her best friend of over a decade who just broke up with the first love of his life after they made out on the dance floor to fucking Clarity, of all the damn EDM songs in the world, and then all would be normal, right? Nothing good has ever come out of tongue dueling to an EDM song.”

“I don’t need your sass…”

“Yes, you do, because you’re acting like an idiot. I don’t care what Jisung says, he’s too much of a loverboy. Think rationally, here; she’s not going to confess to someone who she knows doesn’t feel the same way. It’s that simple.”

Love was an infectious disease and Jeongin didn’t have the proper antibodies to defend himself against your poison. His heart, his mind, and his body were firing alert signals to each other whenever he saw you. His body would block them when you came home in your work-out clothes; his mind couldn’t focus whenever you spoke to him; and his heart wrenched when your smile didn’t match your eyes.

“Earth to Jeongin!” you snapped, waving in front of his face.

“Hm?” he asked, pretending your chest wasn’t in his face. His mind did a double-take when it registered your outfit.

“I said I’m going out for the night. So, you know, don’t light my home on fire.”

“Out where?”

Your back stiffened. “On a date.”

–

When Minho hit you up during your lunch break on a Friday afternoon, you were half expecting him to ask when the meeting was with the developers. The other half was not expecting a proposition.

“I don’t date co-workers,” you deadpanned.

“Not me, genius,” he scoffed. “A friend.”

“I’m not interested in Jisung.”

“How we got promoted at the same time is beyond me. I have other friends!”

“Do they look like Chan?”

“Sadly, no. They don’t look like Jeongin, either.”

Since the clubbing-turned-friendship-destroying wombo-combo, Minho made it his mission to terrorize you about it every working hour, either in person or over Teams with kissing, tongues, and eggplant emojis. Each time, you couldn’t suppress the burning on your face and in your chest. Your showers had to be ice cold for you to not remember how his hands gripped your waist and to forget how warm his tongue was around yours. At work, you often found yourself dazed, looking out at young couples that passed the streets below, daydreaming about kissing Jeongin again every time a couple would kiss at the stop light before crossing the road, or kiss each other goodbye, or just because.

You were sick with the lovebug and there was no remedy available. What made Minho think a date would work?

“No,” you said.

“Come on, _____! Live a little!”

“No!”

“So you’re saving yourself for a man who only kissed you because he felt sorry for you.”

If anyone was going to tell you the hard truth, it would be him. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “You think I can’t get over him.”

“I know you can’t.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You wanted it.”

“Of course I did, so what?!”

“You need to either move on and forget it happened, or fuck each other and see where it takes you. Which would you rather tell Jeongin?”

Minho was brash, but he was right, in a sense. If you couldn’t feel comfortable in your own home, you’d be drained of all life and cease to exist, living as a hollow body that went to work and came home to sleep. But was moving on or sleeping with your best friend truly the only two options?

Maybe you were an idiot. “Not a date. A drink.”

“Same thing. I’ll set it up tonight.”

“Tonight?!”

“Take it or leave it.”

There was some satisfaction in the way Jeongin’s face twisted when you admitted to a date. Yes, you put on your tightest clothes; yes, you put on your favorite perfume; and yes, you weren’t wearing a bra. All of which Jeongin realized, based on the path his eyes traveled.

“A date,” he muttered. “With whom?”

“I don’t know. Minho set it up for me.”

“Minho?” he sneered, then shook his head. “And you’re going?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t go.”

“Jeongin -”

He stood from his seat on the couch. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I can’t -” you stuttered, unable to form the words you wanted to say in order. “I’m going.”

He blocked your path to the door. “I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“About that night.”

“Now?” you scoffed. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

“This is something I want to do. Please,” you begged, “let me go.”

“I think you don’t want to go.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“I think I do.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” The familiar sting on your nose returned. “You don’t know anything.”

“I think -” he paused, voice caught in his throat. “I know what I felt from you that night.”

“You know,” you chuckled bitterly. “You know what, exactly?”

“I felt you. I felt ten years of frustration, of anger, of-of desire, of everything that is both good and bad -”

“Jeongin -”

“How can you say that I didn’t feel how your heart beat against mine, how your lips pressed deeper -”

“Stop -”

“No!” he cried out. “I won’t stop! I can't! I-I need to know.”

“Are you asking for something? Are you looking for an answer that you already know?”

“Yes!”

“Why?!”

“Theories can be proven wrong.”

“But why does it matter?”

His voice cracked and he couldn’t manage to look you in your glossy eyes. “We need to lay everything on the table for this to work.”

“What’s not broken doesn’t need to be fixed.”

“But it is broken! Everything’s broken! It’s all a shattered mess of pieces that don’t fit together and we need to repair what’s broken when it’s all laid out in front of us.”

“Why?” you stuttered. “Why tonight? Tonight, of all nights, when I have something that’ll make me forget about that night for just a couple of hours?”

Jeongin couldn’t answer. It could have happened any night. But the game of life threw in a time-sensitive prompt that changed the whole plot. The fact that you wanted to forget, but couldn’t, might be the only confession he’d get.

“I can’t keep revolving my life around you,” you whispered. “I can’t keep loving you the way I do and maintain the friendship you need from me.”

There it was, the confession he was looking for, but not in the way he expected you to admit. He thought you’d do so while looking at the ground, hiding your smile the way you would act shyly, and maybe it’d be a little embarrassing. But as you stood before him, you were standing strong, refusing to break eye contact, with tears streaming down and dripping from your chin. It was in a way that begged for him to see you for how you really felt; like he was ripping your heart from your chest with his bare hands.

Your hands curl into fists in an effort to stop the tears. “If I lay the pieces of my heart on the table, I can’t take them back.”

He stepped closer. “Why not?”

You stepped back. “Because I won’t be able to put myself back together.”

“I’m here. I was made for you; to help keep you together.”

“Not in the way I want. In the way I need.”

“Yes, yes to both!” Jeongin grabbed tissues to dab the tears from your precious face, as if your skin was coated in porcelain. “I want to make this work.”

“This friendship.”

“No.”

“I am not her!” your voice cracked. “I am not her and I can’t fill in for the gap she left behind.”

“I don’t want her. I want you.”

You still couldn’t accept it. It just didn’t make sense. You were made to care for him from afar, not stand by his side. “You don’t mean that. You had ten years. Ten years! It only changed because, what, you're desperate for touch and you're going after the easiest catch? It's pathetic. You're pathetic!”

Your sharp tongue was your greatest weapon, but Jeongin was left unscathed. You were hurting and had a decade's worth of hardened shells that were crumbling in front of him. Yes, this was all too sudden, and it didn't make sense, but he was losing you and he'd rather break you down into a million pieces and deal with the puzzle later if it meant you'd stay.

“_____,” he whispered. He pressed his forehead against yours as if the closeness would allow you to read his mind and hear his heart scream. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

You sucked in a breath. Those words felt like a spell that lit your body in flames. Your mind said to run, but your body and heart had overruled. You tilted your head and your noses touched. “What if this doesn’t work?”

“Theories were tested repeatedly to be deemed true.”

“Tested a lot of times.”

“A billion times.”

“That takes a very long time.”

“I’ll take forever with you,” he breathed on your lips. “If you’ll have me.”

Your iron grip on his sweater would surely leave a mark later, but you were too afraid to let go, too afraid that this moment was a dream and he’d disappear if you faltered. “I was yours for ten years. I’ve been waiting to have you.”

One soft kiss. “I took too long.”

Another, more needy, kiss. “You can make it up to me later.”

And another, one that mimicked the hunger from that night. “Now.”

“Hm, I don’t know… I have a date, remember?”

“Yeah, with me in your bed.”

Your giggles echoed throughout the condo when Jeongin threw you over his shoulder and ran to your room.

And so your heart soared again. Above the ether was the unknown, in the mythical heavens and forbidden territory. But you'd get there together, while your arms tangled with his and noses rubbing affectionately as your breaths combined in between long and slow kisses under your (and his) blankets.

The fine line you once refused to cross bent and folded with your bodies.

–

EPILOGUE

“Yo,” Minho greeted the phone.

“Hey, I don’t think I can make it tonight -”

“She’s sick!” Jeongin interrupted.

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Well, thank God!” Minho sighed.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, that was a lie.”

“What the hell/What the actual hell is wrong with you?” you and Jeongin yelled in disbelief.

“Because Jeongin is a possessive simpleton and _____ is a cheap date. Did my master plan work, or not?”

“Well, yes, but -”

“My work here is done, bye!” Minho hung up.

#yang jeongin #jeongin #yang jeongin fic #jeongin fic #skz #stray kids #skz fic #stray kids fic #i had to tw song lyrics cuz i have never gotten a writing ick so bad in my LIFE #TO THAT SONG OF ALL SONGS TOO #but it was fOr tHe pLOt

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lixiepixiedust · 11 months ago

Text

College Dirtbags

pairing — collegeau!jeongin x f!reader

word count — 1.3k

warnings — she/her reader, friends 2 lovers, suggestive themes, FLUFFFF, mentions of alcohol, mentions of vomit, lemme know if I missed anything

summary — Y/n and Jeongin have always liked each other since their first year at uni. It's so obvious it hurts to watch. After a crazy party together, embarrassing videos get revealed the next morning that finally breaks that barrier of friends.

11:30 pm

"Stop, what the fuck is that?" Your mouth hung open. "This has gotta be fake."

"It's very real to me," your friend blurted out, laughing. "You were crazy last night."

You grabbed her phone and replayed the video. The party lights were all over the place, making it tough to see, but there you were—Jeongin and you, eating each other's face. You vaguely remembered some flirty moments with him, but seeing it on video was a whole different story.

Since your freshman year at university, Jeongin had been your crush. You ended up in the same friend group and got pretty tight over the years. You wouldn't call it tension between you, but your connection was different from the rest of your friends. In big groups, you'd exchange glances and have these one-on-one conversations in the group chat which would often annoy your friends. It was kind of hard to explain.

Your friend group, about six of you, usually went to frat parties and nightclubs. And here's the thing—Jeongin and you were always the DDs. Not because you were pussies who didn't drink, but because you didn't trust anyone else to handle it. You learned the hard way that leaving the keys with someone else could turn into a disaster. One time, during your first year, someone else assured you that he was gonna be your sober driver, and things went into shit. He convinced you that he had his license when you would probably drive better than him while being drunk. In the end, you got stopped by the cops, and they quickly found out you had been underage drinking.

However, last night was different. One of your friends had some health thing going on, and he was on some prescribed medication for the next couple of weeks. You forgot the whole story, but the deal was, he couldn't touch alcohol or caffeine, or it would mess with the effect of the pills or something. This guy was older, always reliable, and he'd driven you around plenty of times. So, without a second thought, you put him in charge, trusting him to be the driver for the night, giving Jeongin and you the chance to finally kick back and have some fun.

The party got you completely wasted, and Jeongin was no different. So here you are, with a steaming bowl of hangover soup, leaning against your best friend's shoulder, and subjecting yourself to the videos from last night.

"Wait, look at this one," she snorted.

"Oh no, what is it?" You braced yourself.

You glanced at the screen and cringed as you witnessed Jeongin and you going at it in the back seat of a moving car. He pushed you away, scrambled to the front, rolled down the window to throw up, then nonchalantly rolled it back up and resumed making out with you. Your hand instinctively flew to your mouth as you fake gagged.

"My gosh. He shoved that tongue down my throat right after he puked? This is not funny anymore," you stood up, took your empty bowl to the sink, and returned to your friend on the couch.

"Oh, come on, Y/n. You're missing the point here." She said with a chuckle when you raised your eyebrow. "He sees you the same way. You two basically exposed your feelings to each other."

You rolled your eyes, not fully grasping the gravity of the situation. "Exposed? More like embarrassed ourselves. And plus, he was drunk!"

"Well he wasn't drunk enough to be clueless of who he was kissing." Your friend chuckled, shaking her head. "Look, maybe it's not the most romantic way to figure things out, but it's out in the open now. You both let your guards down last night, and honestly, it's kinda cute."

"Cute?" You scoffed, still cringing at the mental image of Jeongin and you in the back seat of a moving car.

"Yeah, cute. I mean, I think about it, he didn't stop after puking, did he? If anything, he came back for more," she teased.

You sighed, realizing there might be a silver lining in all the chaos. "I guess, but what if things get weird between us now?"

"Hey, if anything, it's a sign that there's something there. Maybe just talk to Jeongin about it, you know? Not under the influence of alcohol. And definitely not in our group chat where everyone can see it."

You scoffed and nodded, considering her words. "I guess."

"Text him now," she suggested, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"I don't know," you whined, your voice muffled as you stuffed your face into a pillow and flopped onto her lap.

She chuckled, patting your head. "Come on, Y/n. The longer you wait, the more awkward it'll get. Just shoot him a casual text, talk about last night."

You sighed, lifting your face from the pillow. "What if he doesn't remember everything, and I end up making it even more awkward?"

"Then at least you'll find out where he stands," she said, giving you a reassuring smile. "Trust me, it's better to know than to be stuck wondering."

With a reluctant nod, you reached for your phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard. After a contemplative moment, you began crafting a message: "Hey, Jeongin. There's some stuff we should talk about. How about grabbing coffee later?"

You glanced up at your friend for approval, hoping this struck the right balance between casual and intriguing. However, she shook her head, a playful smirk on her face. "Don't be so dry with him. It's like you're warning him of rejection!" You sighed, taking her advice to heart. "Just be you."

You looked at her, a bit confused, before slowly nodding and diving back into your phone. "Jeongin! Did Felix show you the videos from last night? I can't believe that happened. What are you up to today? Wanna meet up?"

You showed it to her again, and she took your phone, making a sly adjustment before sending it off without warning you.

"Hey!" You grabbed your phone back and looked at the screen.

She had changed "Wanna meet up?" to "I want to see you."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but grin. "Subtle, very subtle."

She winked. "Sometimes you've got to be a little direct. Let's see how he responds to that."

Minutes later, your phone buzzed with a new message from him.

"Hey, Y/n! Felix blew up my phone this morning. I'm free for lunch, want to go to the market?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his response. It seemed like your friend's subtle change hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Sure, that sounds good!" You quickly replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves about your impending conversation.

As you made plans to meet up, you couldn't shake the thought that maybe being a bit more direct wasn't such a bad thing.

Later that day, you found yourself strolling through a vibrant food market with Jeongin, the tantalizing aroma of various street foods filling the air. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the lively chatter of other market-goers provided a comforting backdrop to your conversation. It was a surreal moment, acknowledging the unspoken feelings that had lingered between you for so long. The chaotic events of the night seemed to have paved the way for a conversation you both needed.

Jeongin looked at you with a thoughtful expression. "You know I've always liked being with you."

You nodded, "Yea, there's been this thing going on between us for years."

He chuckled. "Maybe it just took a wild night and some embarrassing videos to finally bring it to the surface."

You turned your head towards him. "I'm glad it did. It feels right, doesn't it?"

"I wouldn't change a thing." He gently bumped his shoulder against yours. "So, what now?"

You smiled, feeling a sense of newfound clarity. "I think we should see where this takes us."

He nodded in agreement and threw his arm over your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head.

"I can't believe you made me taste your vomit," you teased.

"You're lucky I didn't throw up in your mouth," he countered, a playful glint in his eyes.

You both burst into laughter, the shared humor easing any lingering awkwardness. As you meandered through the market, the playful banter continued, weaving a comfortable atmosphere between you. The crowded stalls, colorful displays, and enticing aromas provided the perfect backdrop for a moment of connection.

#jeongin #jeongin one shot #in skz #skz in #jeongin fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids comfort #jeongin fic #jeongin imagines #fluff #jeongin fanfiction #jeongin fanfic #suggestive

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charlieg1rl · 16 days ago

Text

⤜ ˚. ✦ ⸝⸝ ֙⋆ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ᳝ › 𓈒 ୨.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲/𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒𝐤

Y/N sat quietly at the back of the history classroom, her fingers tracing the edges of her sketchbook. As usual, she was focused on a half-formed idea in her mind, doodling in the margins while the teacher droned on about the upcoming group project. She was used to keeping to herself, blending into the background, and avoiding any unnecessary attention. But when her teacher started calling out the names of the pairs for the project, she heard something that made her freeze.

“And finally, L/N Y/N and… Yang Jeongin.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

Jeongin? The Jeongin? Yang Jeongin, the popular guy everyone admired, the one who could charm a crowd with a single smile? He was one of those people who just seemed to glide through life, always surrounded by friends, attention, and admiration. The total opposite of her.

Y/N sank a little lower in her seat, clutching her sketchbook tighter. She was used to being invisible, and the thought of working closely with someone like Jeongin was terrifying. She couldn’t imagine how they would even get along—he was always at the center of everything, while she preferred the edges.

From across the room, Jeongin flashed a quick smile in her direction. It wasn’t a mocking smile, more like a polite acknowledgment. Still, it made Y/N’s pulse quicken, and she quickly looked away, her face flushing with embarrassment. She’d been paired with him, whether she liked it or not. The next few weeks were going to be interesting, to say the least.

Later that afternoon, Y/N found herself sitting at one of the quieter tables in the campus library, nervously awaiting Jeongin’s arrival. She had come early, hoping to organize her notes and thoughts so she wouldn’t look totally lost when he showed up. She was deep in her sketchbook, drawing absentmindedly, when she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jeongin’s cheerful tone broke through her thoughts. She looked up, her heart racing a little as he approached with his signature grin. “Sorry, I’m late. Got caught up with some friends.”

She gave him a small, awkward smile and nodded, trying not to make too much of a deal about it. “It’s fine,” she muttered, lowering her eyes to her sketchbook. She wasn’t sure how to talk to him—what did someone like her even say to someone like him?

Jeongin slid into the seat across from her, looking around the library before settling his gaze on her. “So, should we get started on this project?” he asked, leaning forward slightly. His tone was casual, and to Y/N’s surprise, he seemed genuinely interested in what they were doing.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then pulled out her notes, grateful for something to focus on besides his presence. “I thought we could split the work based on sections,” she suggested quietly, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “I’ve already made a list of topics…”

Jeongin leaned in closer to look at her notes, nodding thoughtfully. “Wow, you’re really organized,” he said with a grin. “This is great. You’re saving me already.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be so… easygoing. The more they talked about the project, the more she realized that Jeongin was genuinely engaged. He wasn’t just throwing all the work on her; he was contributing, throwing out ideas, and asking for her opinion. It was strange—she’d always assumed that someone as popular as him wouldn’t care about schoolwork, but Jeongin seemed like he was actually putting in the effort.

As their conversation went on, Y/N found herself relaxing, though her guard remained up. Every time she looked up from her notes, Jeongin was smiling at her, his attention fully on her as if they were old friends. It was disarming. How was it that someone like him could be so comfortable around anyone?

“So,” Jeongin said after a while, leaning back in his chair, “you’re really into drawing, huh? I always see you sketching.”

Y/N’s fingers paused on the edge of her sketchbook. She glanced at him nervously, unsure of how to respond. It was rare for anyone to take an interest in her art or even her. She gave a small shrug, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, I guess, it’s my major.”

“That’s cool,” Jeongin said, his voice warm. “You should show me up your work sometime. I bet it’s really good.”

The unexpected compliment sent a wave of warmth through her, but Y/N quickly shook it off, feeling her face heat up. She wasn’t used to sharing her art with anyone, let alone someone like Jeongin. “Maybe,” she muttered, trying to change the subject.

But Jeongin wasn’t easily swayed. He grinned, sitting up straighter. “I’m holding you to that,” he said playfully, his smile lighting up his face in that way that probably made everyone around him swoon.

Y/N’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. Despite her reservations, there was something about Jeongin that made it hard to stay closed off. He was friendly, genuine, and easy to talk to. And though Y/N didn’t fully understand why, she found herself feeling more at ease around him than she ever expected.

Still, as they wrapped up their meeting, she couldn’t help but wonder how this newfound connection would play out. Was this just a temporary partnership because of the project, or was there something more to Jeongin’s interest in her? Who was she kidding? Yang Jeongin could never like her, this was definitely, just for the project.

As Jeongin waved goodbye and walked away, his usual group of friends calling out to him, Y/N sat in the library, staring at her sketchbook. This was all so unexpected.

Y/N sat at her usual table in the library the following day, a little earlier than she’d planned. After her meeting with Jeongin yesterday, she couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d talked to her so effortlessly, like they’d been friends forever. She’d never had anyone take such an interest in her, especially not someone who seemed to effortlessly charm everyone around him. Jeongin’s popularity made him a world apart from her, yet yesterday, it hadn’t felt that way.

Just as she was adjusting her notes, Jeongin arrived. He walked in with that same easy smile, his backpack slung over one shoulder, and her heart picked up its pace once again. “Hey!” he greeted, sliding into the chair beside her without a hint of hesitation. He leaned closer, glancing over her notes with a relaxed, almost curious expression. “Wow, you really organized all of this?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Yeah, I figured it might make things easier.”

Jeongin grinned, pulling out his notebook and flipping it open. “This is perfect, thanks. You’re like a lifesaver.”

His genuine appreciation was disarming. Y/N offered a small, shy smile in return, feeling a warmth settle in her chest. As they delved into the work, Y/N found herself noticing details about Jeongin she hadn’t before. He wasn’t just the confident guy she’d expected; he was patient, attentive, and surprisingly thoughtful. He listened to her ideas without interrupting, and when he spoke, he never made her feel out of place.

Halfway through their meeting, Jeongin glanced over, noticing her sketchbook open on the table. She had drawn something abstract—a series of flowing lines and shapes. He tilted his head, studying the piece before glancing back at her with a smile.

“You really have a talent, Y/N,” he said, his voice sincere. “I know you probably don’t hear it enough, but… you should be proud of what you can do.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you,” she mumbled, flipping her sketchbook closed. Compliments were something she wasn’t used to, and hearing them from Jeongin left her feeling a bit vulnerable. “I don’t really show my work to anyone, so… it’s kind of weird to hear.”

Jeongin nodded, a hint of understanding in his eyes. “I get it. People assume I’m comfortable with all the attention, but sometimes I just want to, you know, be myself without all the pressure.”

She glanced at him, surprised. She had always assumed he thrived off attention. “Really?” she asked softly, her curiosity piqued. “You don’t like the attention?”

“It’s not that I hate it,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “But sometimes, I feel like everyone’s watching, expecting me to act a certain way. It’s nice to just… relax.” His eyes met hers, and for a moment, Y/N felt like they were the only two people in the world. “With you, it feels like I don’t have to put on an act.”

A small smile crept onto Y/N’s face. It was strange to think that he, of all people, could feel like he had to be anything other than himself. But she understood. She’d always felt like she had to hide, too—whether it was her art or her thoughts. With Jeongin, she realized, she didn’t feel the need to hide as much.

Their sessions continued, each one bridging the gap between them a little more. Soon, it wasn’t just about the project. They talked about everything—favorite movies, music, embarrassing childhood stories. Y/N found herself laughing more than she had in a long time. And the more she got to know Jeongin, the more she realized he was more than his charming, popular exterior. He was kind, genuine, and didn’t judge her for being quiet or awkward. He saw her, really saw her, in a way no one else had before.

One afternoon, as they wrapped up their work in the library, Jeongin glanced at her with a playful smile. “So… do you want to grab a coffee or something?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. Coffee with Jeongin? That felt like it would draw attention—attention she wasn’t used to or prepared for. “I… don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she stammered, looking down at her hands.

“Hey, no pressure,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, but his smile didn’t waver. “We can just hang out somewhere quiet if you want.”

Y/N bit her lip, feeling her heart race. “Maybe somewhere… quieter?”

“Perfect,” Jeongin agreed, his eyes lighting up. “There’s this little café a few blocks away, and it’s always pretty empty. We can go there.”

That Saturday, Y/N found herself sitting in a cozy booth across from Jeongin at a small café she’d never noticed before. It was a charming place with vintage decorations, soft music playing in the background, and just a few scattered customers. She sipped her coffee, feeling a bit more relaxed in the quiet environment.

As they talked, she felt the usual tension melt away. Jeongin didn’t bring up the usual topics people her age did. Instead, he wanted to know about her art, her inspirations, even her favorite colors. He listened intently, his attention fully on her, and she realized how rare it was to feel so… understood.

Jeongin leaned back, his hands wrapped around his coffee cup, a soft smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting to do something different lately,” he admitted, looking out the window thoughtfully. “Everyone always expects me to act the same, but I want to… you know, try things people don’t expect.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious.

Jeongin’s eyes lit up as he looked back at her. “Like maybe… joining the art club?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, her surprise evident. “The art club?” She tried to imagine Jeongin sketching or painting, surrounded by her fellow quiet, artsy classmates. “But… you don’t even draw, do you?”

“No,” Jeongin laughed, scratching the back of his head. “But I think it’d be fun. And besides…” He shrugged, giving her a playful smirk. “I’d have the best artist in school to help me out.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. He was teasing, but there was a warmth behind his words that made her feel special in a way she wasn’t used to. She looked away, trying to hide the faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“I think… that would be fun,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They lingered in that cozy café longer than either of them expected, lost in conversation. For Y/N, it was surreal to feel so comfortable with someone so different from her, but with Jeongin, it felt right. It felt real.

As they walked out together, Jeongin gave her a warm smile. “Same time next week?”

Y/N nodded, barely able to contain her own shy smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

The following week passed in a blur for Y/N. After her weekend coffee with Jeongin, she’d found herself looking forward to every encounter with him—every accidental brush of his hand when they passed a notebook, every shared glance that seemed to carry an unspoken understanding, but she also had started working on a special project in her sketchbook after that day. Though she also couldn’t ignore the growing whispers that had started to follow her in the halls.

“He’s really hanging out with her?” someone whispered one morning as she walked past.

“Why is he spending so much time with that quiet art girl?” another voice chimed in.

Y/N tried to shrug it off, but it wasn’t easy. She’d spent most of her school life in the background, a quiet observer in her own little world, and now, suddenly, everyone seemed to have an opinion about her. Still, every time the anxiety began to creep in, she thought of Jeongin—how he’d look at her with that warm, steady gaze, as if reassuring her that he didn’t care about the rumors. It helped her hold her head a little higher.

One afternoon, she sat alone in her favorite corner of the art room, working on a new piece. She’d created an abstract, swirling design in vibrant colors—different from her usual style but somehow inspired by the way she felt lately, full of emotions she couldn’t quite put into words. As she lost herself in her art, she barely noticed the footsteps approaching until she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Wow,” Jeongin murmured, peering over her shoulder. “That’s beautiful.”

She jumped, clutching her sketchbook to her chest, but Jeongin only laughed softly, settling into the chair beside her. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I just… wanted to see what you were working on.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at the drawing before showing it to him, feeling vulnerable but trusting him with it. “It’s… a bit different from my usual stuff,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin studied the piece, his expression thoughtful. “It’s amazing, Y/N. I don’t know much about art, but I can feel something… real here.” He looked at her, his gaze unwavering. “You put a lot of yourself into this, don’t you?”

She nodded, feeling her cheeks warm under his scrutiny. “Yeah. It’s… kind of like therapeutic. When I don’t have the right words, I draw it out, or paint it on a canvas.”

Jeongin’s eyes softened. “I get it. We all have things we want to say but don’t know how to. That’s why I love listening to music—it’s like hearing someone else say what I can’t.” He paused, then added, “You’re really something special, Y/N. You have this way of… seeing the world that’s just different.”

His words caught her off guard, but they filled her with a strange, comforting warmth. No one had ever looked at her this way, and she couldn’t deny how much it meant to her. They sat in comfortable silence, and for a moment, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, there could be something between them.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Jeongin leaned a little closer, his voice low. “Hey, are you free this weekend?”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, and she nodded, unable to keep the small smile from tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Why?”

“There’s this art exhibit downtown,” he explained, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. “I thought… maybe we could go together? I’d love to see more of what you like, what inspires you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. The idea of going to an art exhibit with Jeongin felt almost surreal, like something out of a dream. But there was a vulnerability in his gaze, as if he was as nervous as she was about taking this step. She took a deep breath and nodded, trying to keep her excitement in check. “I’d love to go.”

The weekend came faster than Y/N had anticipated. She spent the entire morning agonizing over what to wear, finally settling on a simple, comfortable outfit that still felt like her. When she arrived at the art exhibit, Jeongin was already waiting outside, hands tucked into his pockets. He spotted her and waved, flashing that familiar, heart-stopping grin.

“Hey, you made it!” he said, sounding genuinely pleased.

She nodded, returning his smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

They wandered through the exhibit together, pausing to admire each piece. Y/N found herself more comfortable than she’d expected, her excitement for art taking over her initial nervousness. Jeongin listened intently as she explained the different styles and techniques, asking questions and laughing at her jokes. And in return, she learned that he had his own kind of appreciation for art, even if he couldn’t draw a stick figure to save his life.

After an hour or so, they ended up in front of a massive abstract painting filled with bold colors and chaotic lines. Jeongin tilted his head, studying it. “What do you think it means?”

Y/N bit her lip, considering. “I think… it’s about feeling lost but finding beauty in it. Like, even when things don’t make sense, there’s still something beautiful in the chaos.”

Jeongin nodded thoughtfully, his gaze still fixed on the painting. “Kind of like us,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Y/N turned to him, her heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

He looked back at her, a shy smile on his face. “I mean… we’re kind of a weird pair, aren’t we? You, the quiet artist, and me… the guy everyone expects to be with someone else.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her cheeks warming. She didn’t know what to say, but her heart was racing, and she could barely hold his gaze. “I… I guess so.”

Jeongin took a deep breath, his expression serious. “But I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I like being with you, Y/N. You make me feel like I can just… be myself.” He paused, searching her face. “And I’d really like to spend more time with you. If you’re okay with that.”

Y/N felt a surge of emotion, her heart swelling as she looked up at him. She didn’t know how to put her feelings into words, so instead, she nodded, a soft smile spreading across her face. “I’d like that too, Jeongin.”

The relief in his eyes was unmistakable, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, so with that all being said… Y/N will you be my girlfriend?” He asked her, sheepishly as if afraid of rejection.

She froze, she didn’t know what to say, this was all so unexpected territory to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overw-“ Jeongin started to ramble, but she cut him off, with a hug.

“Of course I will. I’d love to be your girlfriend, Jeongin!”

“Good. I was really nervous for a second there.”

They shared a quiet laugh, and as they left the exhibit together, Y/N felt lighter than she had in ages. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, despite their differences, they could carve out a space for each other.

After their art exhibit date, Y/N and Jeongin grew inseparable, and Y/N had tons of inspiration for her project. In the halls, her and Jeongin would exchange quick, secret smiles, and in their quiet study sessions, every word and every glance felt charged with a hidden promise. Yet, as much as Y/N wanted to keep their connection just for themselves, rumors continued to swirl.

One morning, as Y/N sat in her usual corner of the library waiting for Jeongin, she overheard two classmates nearby.

“I heard she’s dating him,” one girl whispered, not bothering to lower her voice enough.

The other laughed, rolling her eyes. “Her? No way. She’s too… quiet.”

Y/N pretended not to hear, keeping her eyes on her book, but the words lingered, a reminder of the gap between her and Jeongin’s worlds. Deep down, she knew she and Jeongin weren’t “supposed” to be together—not in the eyes of their classmates, not in the predictable social order of their school.

But when Jeongin arrived, he grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world, dropping his bag beside hers and ignoring the stares around them. “Morning,” he greeted, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Morning,” she replied softly, finding comfort in his presence.

But just as they settled in, Jeongin’s friend, appeared, looking from Y/N to Jeongin with a raised brow. “Can we talk, Jeongin?”

Jeongin sighed, giving Y/N an apologetic look before following his friend a few steps away, though Y/N could still hear their hushed conversation.

“What’s going on, man?” his friend asked, exasperated. “You’re ditching everyone to hang out in the library. For what? Her?”

Jeongin’s face hardened. “Yeah, her. She’s important to me. Maybe you should respect that.”

His friend scoffed, his disbelief clear. “Since when do you care what she thinks? You’re better off without her bringing you down.”

Y/N’s heart sank, her worst fears surfacing. She wanted to disappear, to slip away before she could hear anything more. But before she could make a quiet exit, Jeongin’s voice, sharp and unwavering, cut through the air.

“You don’t know her like I do,” he said firmly. “And honestly? If you can’t accept her, then maybe you don’t know me, either.”

The weight of his words left his friend speechless, and Y/N watched, her heart pounding, as Jeongin walked back to her, eyes filled with determination. “Ready to go?” he asked, his voice softer now, but no less resolute.

She nodded, still processing what she’d just witnessed. As they left the library together, she could feel every eye in the room on them, but for once, she didn’t care. Jeongin’s hand brushed against hers, and in a bold moment, she took it, intertwining her fingers with his. He looked down in surprise but then gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a silent acknowledgment that they were in this together.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N and Jeongin continued to grow closer. They no longer hid their connection, instead embracing it openly, walking through the halls together, sharing quiet moments in the art room, and even sitting side by side in the cafeteria. It wasn’t always easy; the whispers still followed them, and not everyone was supportive. But with Jeongin by her side, Y/N felt braver than she ever had before.

One afternoon, they were sitting under the large oak tree on the school grounds, enjoying the warm sun filtering through the leaves. Y/N was sketching, while Jeongin watched her with a content smile.

“You know,” he began, breaking the comfortable silence, “I’ve been thinking about what you said at the exhibit. About finding beauty in the chaos.”

She looked up, curious. “Yeah?”

Jeongin nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “It made me realize that sometimes, the best things in life aren’t the ones that make sense to everyone else. Sometimes, it’s about finding something real… even if no one else understands it.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words. She put down her sketchbook, reaching for his hand. “I feel the same way,” she said softly. “I never thought someone like you could make me feel… like I belong.”

He leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’ve always belonged, Y/N. You just needed someone to remind you.”

They sat in silence, their fingers intertwined, basking in the quiet understanding they shared. And for the first time, Y/N realized she didn’t care what anyone else thought. With Jeongin, she felt seen, cherished, and free to be herself.

But Jeongin looked down at her sketchbook, realizing that her special super secret art project, was a portrait of him.

tags: @jeonginsbaee, @omgsecretsecret, @amarecerasus, @estella-novella

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