#ygtb angst

[yeetdam]

stars after the rain ☾ yedam

genre – romance, soulmate au

synopsis – set in a universe where everyone is born with two names tattooed on their skin. one name stands for their soulmate, the other for their potential killer. no one knows which person inked on them is their other half and which is their downfall, but that has never been an issue to you. after all, you were born with just one name. and, well, there’s only one way to interpret that.

wc – 8.3k

a/n – this is a completely self-indulgent fic pls forgive me this mess contains everything i dream of: best friend doyoung antics, slow burn-ish vibes and a cheesy rendition of the slow dance scene on the rooftop from high school musical 3 :’) either way, i hope you’ll enjoy this and pls lmk if there are any mistakes or if u have some feedback uwu

It’s bound to end in a tragedy when Doyoung barges into your room without any warning and sees it for the first time.

“That’s a cool place to have a tattoo,” he admits and points at the back of his neck when you turn to him with an irritated expression. The realization crashes onto you like an atomic bomb the moment you subconsciously mimic his movement and slide your hand up the back of your neck.

“Oh.”

In the blink of an eye, you frantically rummage through your drawers for your foundation. Lately, there’s been many things clouding your mind, be it the many exams you can’t afford to fail or the abnormal number of complaints Hyunsuk has sent you in a span of three hours. It’s not the first time for you to drown in all kinds of duties, but it seems like the pressure has got into your head worse than usual. You never fail to cover the ink on the back of your neck with either turtlenecks or foundation, so it just fuels your frustration when Doyoung sheds light on it.

“Hey, relax! We can join the party a little later, so take your time,” he says and puts a firm hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you. “Uh, do you want me to help? It must be hard blending that in every day.”

You snort. “First of all, I am relaxed. Second of all, I don’t do this every day, but I manage perfectly on my own.”

“Jesus Christ,” Doyoung sighs and retreats his hand, “I was just trying to be the empathetic best friend. But jokes aside, it really is a cool place to have your tattoo. My thigh can’t relate.”

“As much as I love being your best friend and am willing to listen to your problems anytime–” you successfully find the bottle and squirt a generous amount of foundation on the beauty blender, “–even that is too much information for me. What should I know next? Your other tattoo is on your butt?”

There is nothing wrong with covering up the tattoos you are born with. It’s not socially frowned upon if someone doesn’t make any efforts to hide the ink. In the end, it all boils down to your personal preference. You know a handful of people who waltz around with both of their names on display, and you are relatively sure that Doyoung would be one of them if his tattoos were on an appropriate part of his body.

“Haha. Funny,” Doyoung deadpans before he whips out his phone. “I meant what I said, take your time. Plus, I realized I still gotta call someone.”

“Give me five.” You hum and apply the liquid on your skin. He exits your room and makes sure that the door falls softly in its lock to give you a moment of peace. A frown paves its way onto your face as you build up the coverage until there is no trace of black on your neck.

Showing the inked names on your skin and just talking about the concept of soulmates in general isn’t a social taboo. However, there are quite a few people who rather avoid the topic at hand, including you. Truth be told, every cell in your body knows that Doyoung is dying to discuss this topic with you and there are too many moments you recall where he looks as if he’s about to explode if he doesn’t bring up his soulmate. However, he never did that. Doyoung wears his heart on his sleeve and so do you, but here’s the thing: Doyoung is better at swallowing them down.

So as his best friend, the least you can do is go with him to that one goddamn party even though there are other things you’d rather do at this late hour of the day.

(A prime example of what you’d rather do is giving Hyunsuk a piece of your mind because receiving fifty-seven emails about not understanding biology, whining about the new TA and his harsh grading and inquiries about what to get Seunghun for his birthday in the span of three hours is not okay.)

Whenever you go out in public, you are usually seen with a turtleneck or a scarf. Covering up your tattoo with a foundation is your plan c) when desperate times call for desperate measures. Also, there is a reason why you barely go to parties.

Parties fall under desperate times.

Although there isn’t anything in Yeji’s house that is illegal to consume, the living room is sweltering hot, the music obnoxiously loud, and the entire scenario is equivalent to a frat party minus the alcohol, drugs, and making out.

Instead, a dozen bottles of pretty much every soft drink you can find from the convenience store just three blocks away and a broad selection of chips and chocolate and cake are found on the tables.

“Wanna bet that you could never finish cola with salt in one go?” Jaehyuk suggestively raises a brow at Doyoung and holds up the red cup in his hand.

“If I win, you owe me bubble tea for an entire month. Wherever and whenever I want.” You fight the urge to smack yourself as you see the sneaky grin etched on Doyoung’s lips. For a moment, you debate whether to stand up your comfortable position on the couch and knock some sense into him. But then again, you remind yourself why you’re even here in the first place. Though you know most of the people here, you don’t really talk to them. Doyoung was your only friend present.

You’re only here for Doyoung’s sake. You’re going to let him have fun and let him regret his life decisions in the aftermath.

“Aren’t you feeling lonely here?” you divert your eyes from Doyoung to the guy who drops himself on the couch beside you. He’s a new face, you figure, dressed in an unbuttoned, red flannel shirt, a black graphic tee underneath and ripped skinny jeans. Strands of jet black hair fall into his face, but they fail to hide the genuine twinkle in his eyes as the corners of his lips subtly tug upwards.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” you mumble and are very glad that you’re no longer focused on Doyoung if you consider the gagging sounds he’s emitting, “I’m not a huge fan of these kinds of occasions.”

“Let me guess,” he muses and takes a sip out of his cup, “That guy forced you here?”

A chuckle escapes your lips when he points at Jaehyuk who’s laughing maliciously at a kneeling Doyoung.

“Actually, it’s the guy who looks like he needs life support, but close enough.” you lift a brow at the flannel guy. “Is there a reason why you’re staring at me like that?”

He shrugs in response. “I’m just happy that I managed to lift up your spirits a little bit.”

There it is again, the glimmer in his eyes. You can’t lay a finger on what exactly it is, whether it’s playfulness or an underlying risk. All you know is that it's a gamble. You either take the leap or you keep it safe. It’s not the first time that you end up in such a situation, but this time, it’s a little but different. The only thing that is stopping you is the uncertainty of reading him.

But maybe, maybe it’s not that bad.

“You know,” you start and fiddle with your fingers, “I’m fairly sure that you’re the only one who can enlighten me here.”

Your hunch is proven right. It is not that bad. Not bad at all, actually.

For the next hour, you two stay seated on the couch and talk about all kinds of things. Sometimes, when you bother to care, you laugh at some mishaps that occur right in front of your eyes, like Chaeryeong tripping over her own feet before she crashes into Mashiho and makes him fall flat on his face.

“Wanna grab something to drink?” he asks after a while and swirls the last few ounces of liquid in his cup. “Besides, I think I need a refill.”

“Sure,” you reply and you both enter the kitchen. The room is empty apart from the two of you, and though you can still hear the music blasting through the closed door, your ears don’t ache as much anymore.

While you grab ahold of one of the opened bottles of cherry cola and pour it into an unused red cup, you watch him roll up the sleeves of his flannel from the corner of your eye. He has pretty hands, you figure, and maybe it would’ve been better if you didn’t stare at them for so long. It’s only a subtle flick of his wrist as he fixes his sleeves, but you don’t fail to notice fine black lines on his left wrist.

Before you ponder longer about it, he asks you, “Hey, can you pass me the cherry cola?”

You nod wordlessly and hand him the bottle and don’t leave his hand movements out of your sight. Once in a while, your eyes flit to the fridge behind him, to the few strands of jet black hair that sick out messily or to his eyes. Curiosity has never been a trait that really defines you, but sometimes, you can’t help but try to decode the name on his wrist.

Still oblivious to your underlying intentions, he continues rambling about his favorite music producers. “Cha Cha Malone has this really distinctive tone in his productions…” he places the edge of his cup on his lips with his left hand and suddenly, your blood runs cold.

Though there is the slight possibility that you are suffering from hallucinations, you are pretty damn sure it is not an illusion. The kitchen sheds enough light to see everything clearly, from the slight bags under his eyes to the coffee stains on the table. The lights aren’t blinding, but they’re enough to decipher the fine black lines inked on his left wrist.

Your name.

“... and I feel that– hey, you look like you saw a ghost. Is everything alright?” he furrows his brows in concern, but when he follows the trail where you’re looking at, he gets the gist. You notice him tense up and are pretty sure it’s not a trick of the light when he pales, something akin to guilt paints his face.

“Come to think of it,” you mumble and avert your eyes from his wrist. “I didn't catch your name. Who are you?”

He hesitates, chews on his bottom lips first before he answers. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights and it just fuels your thought that the worst case scenario has become a reality. You hope it isn’t what you think it is.

“I’m Bang Yedam.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to force any coherent words past your lips. A shiver runs down your spine, and though there is less to be scared of because your name is inked on his wrist too, you're still wary. Obviously, the one who is destined to end your life won't have your name tattooed on them.

But with your circumstances, you can't help but include that possibility.

Yedam doesn't hide his panic anymore as he tries to justify himself. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself earlier, (y/n). Doyoung told me not to–"

"Doyoung? What does Doyoung have to do with this?"

When all you're met with is silence, you ask again with something akin to fury laced in your tone. "I said, what does Doyoung have to do with this?"

He diverts his gaze to the counter behind you with pursed lips. Knowing that he won't spill the truth, you try to find the remaining puzzle pieces to complete the mystery by yourself. Your efforts are in vain though, because there is nothing you remember that could serve as a link to what Yedam said–

("I realized I still gotta call someone.")

"I need to go," you say when it dawns on you and you set the cup on the table. A jumble of emotions rages in you, be it the anger that flows through your veins or the whirlwind of irritation and disappointment and despair flooding your senses. You don't stop when Yedam calls after you and tries to make you stay.

You rush into the living room to grab your belongings, completely ignoring Doyoung who is still oblivious to your discovery. It's when he takes a closer look at your trembling hands and pessimistic face that the joy falls from his face.

"Hey, why are you leaving already?" he asks, concern laced in his voice as he tries to touch you, but you swat his hand away.

You huff. "Mind your own business, I really don't appreciate your stunt."

"What?" he furrows his brows and tries to figure out the meaning of your words. "I don't understand–"

"(y/n), please don't go�� oh God." Yedam slows down to a halt at the sight of you and Doyoung. The boy beside you widens his eyes when he sees Yedam and then, the realization strikes him like lightning.

"O-oh, that was what you're talking about. Look, I can explain–"

You don't stay a while longer to hear his reasoning.

There is a reason why Doyoung has been your best friend for so long. It isn't the first time for you to fight and if you're being honest, your ego isn't that big to not forgive him. Doyoung can be awfully nosy and loves to stick his nose into someone else's business. Therefore, it doesn't surprise you that you invite him over on an afternoon after he left fifty voice messages and over a hundred text messages in your inbox.

"Please don't start your explanation with 'I was trying to do you a favor'." you sigh in distress.

"I was trying to do you a favor," he bluntly says and it costs you your willpower to not invite him out of your place. Doyoung sends you a crooked grin before he turns serious. "Okay, real talk now. I was just... surprised when I saw Yedam's name on your neck. And since I already knew that one of Yedam's tattoos is your name, I thought it'd be a good idea to make you two meet. Turns out to be that I was a fool."

"You're always a fool, please," you deadpan and snicker when he shoots you a death glare.

"Hey! I was trying to be an empathetic best friend here! I just breathed and here you are, clowning me. That is disrespectful!"

He attempts to throw you off your chair by aiming a pillow at you. Instead, he almost knocks down the succulent on your desk. The next few minutes, you bicker for a while and start an impromptu tickle fight to lighten up the mood. It's when you both lie on the carpeted floor and your heartbeats have fallen back into a steady rhythm that he addresses the problem at hand.

"Why don't you want to give him a chance?"

"My gut says it won't end well," you reply slowly.

Doyoung shuffles to the side to get a good glimpse of your face. "You know, the chance is high that Yedam's your soulmate. He's got your name too, after all. And he's willing to give it a shot, y'know? One meeting doesn't sound bad and won't be the end of the world."

You hesitate, considering the implied proposal with a frown. "It's complicated."

"So you're willing to let the glorious chance pass by?"

"Yes."

Taken aback by your rapid answer, Doyoung adds in a quieter tone, "Not many people manage to find even one of the two people. Even less find the one who wears their names too. You should definitely consider it, (y/n)."

"I get where you're coming from, but..." your voice trails off.

Doyoung watches you with expectant eyes. "But?" he drawls.

But you don't understand.

"You're not gonna stop bugging me until I say yes, are you?" you say instead. Although you'd trust your life to him, you don't want to burden him with your tattoo dilemma. He may not let it show too much, but you know he has his worries and he doesn't need to break his head about the meaning of your only tattoo too.

"Do you want the truth or a fabrication of lies?" he asks with a suggestively raised brow, making you roll his eyes at his silliness.

"Fine, I'll meet up with him one time. He shouldn't get his hopes up, though."

For some reason, you find yourself walking into the café fifteen minutes earlier. You blame it on the fact that there surprisingly was no traffic jam, although it's rush hour. As it turns out, you're not the only one to arrive earlier than expected, because Yedam enters the coffee shop five minutes after you.

He notices you right away, seated in between red and black cushions at the far back of the room, but doesn't steer towards you instantly. Instead, he stands in line and orders two drinks before he approaches you. An uncertain, shy smile adorns his face and contrary to the first time you met him, he's different. His hands shake so much that he spills one cup a little bit when he sets them down and he can't bring it over himself to look you in the eye. Yedam's treading lightly, abnormally careful about his own actions.

"I got you hot chocolate. I hope you don't mind," he mumbles and slides the cup towards you.

There's the need to tell him not to worry and loosen up. However, you don't manage to do so. What you do manage is a quiet "thanks" before you take a sip of it.

Well, at least Doyoung wasn't lying when he said that the café served delicious beverages.

Awkward, heavy and pressuring don't even come remotely close to describe the silence hovering above you. Even an innocent bystander can tell that neither of you is exactly comfortable in your shoes.

"So." Yedam's ears perk up when you clear your throat. "You wanted to meet me."

"Yeah…" his voice trails off as he taps his fingers on his paper cup. This time, he's wearing a blue wool sweater with sleeves so long they cover up his palms. You fight the urge to ask him if you could see his left wrist.

"Uh, give me a second to mentally prepare myself." he stammers before he starts anew. "I'm going to be honest here. I was happy when Doyoung called me and said he knew someone who wore my name. I had a great time that night and I, um, guess that things wouldn't have ended like that if you figured it out in a different manner."

"I'm going to be honest too," you confess. "I had a lot of fun that night, well, before it started to go downhill. It's just, I don't think I'll be able to cope with this." You gesture on your own wrist. 

Something that hits very close to desperation is written on his face. For the first time, he looks at you directly and tries to read you. "Listen, I'm not trying to force anything on you. I know not everyone cares about the marks and that's fine. I just..."

He hesitates, tries to find the right words. Judging by the tone of his voice and the quiet sigh that escapes his lips, you know he doesn't belong to the group of people who don't care, unlike you – and he is very well aware of that too.

"You just?" you probe. Though you are quite sure what words will follow next, you need to hear them come out of his own mouth.

Yedam glances at you unsurely, wariness audible in his voice when he speaks up. "I was just hoping to, uh, get to know you. It doesn't have to be something long lasting, I swear. If you feel uncomfortable, we can break it off at any time. I was hoping that we could at least try."

There are many, many red lights blinking in your mind. This suggestion is nothing more than a very, very bad idea. In your case, the journey doesn't even matter. It doesn't matter if you end up being more than friends. What matters is the result. And, well, the result is inevitable.

Amongst the many, many stop signs that practically scream DON'T DO IT, there is one brain cell that begs to differ. Yedam looks at you expectantly, pleadingly even. His desperation is visible in his eyes as if they held stardust which reflects his every emotion.

You inhale deeply through your nose in an attempt to steady your frantic heartbeat. It's bound to end in a tragedy and you should care more, but you don’t have the heart to reject him.

Hopefully, you don't sound so unconvinced and scared when you respond.

"Trying sounds good."

Yedam is careful. He's so careful it genuinely surprises you. He doesn't push you to anything, works his way to more personal questions (though so far, the most personal question he's asked you was how long you've been friends with Doyoung) and tries his best to cater everything to your needs. It's by the fifth time you meet up in person when he finds the courage to ask for your number. Truth be told, you can practically see him pondering five minutes about each text he writes before sending it to you. The absence of emojis in his messages just confirm how nervous he still is.

It's still awkward when you talk and most of the time, it's Yedam who asks questions. Yet he's quick to pick up certain likes and dislikes, like your favorite ice cream flavor or your least favorite type of music.

It goes without saying that Doyoung practically demands regular updates. He was over the moon when you told him how your first date ended and even paid you bubble tea. That was how happy he was for you.

"He's not as bad as expected," you say as you nonchalantly look for good Netflix movies to watch.

Doyoung snorts in response. "Of course I knew that already. I've known Yedam for a good while now and seriously, all he does is sing the High School Musical soundtrack and swoon about music producers."

"He sings?"

You practically feel Doyoung rolling his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. "Duh. That guy's a singing god. But you have my word, (y/n), I'll end him and twist out his intestines if he hurts you. You really don't have anything to worry about."

"The only thing I worry about is you becoming a potential murderer," you say in a monotonous voice. (In a way, it’s ironic, given how there is bound to be someone who wears Doyoung’s name with the negative connotation.)

That causes your best friend to laugh in an exaggerated manner. "Very funny. In all seriousness though–" he grabs a handful of chips and stuffs it in his mouth, "–how do you not know that he sings? Even though you know he produces his own songs? I thought you talk lots."

"The thing is–" you shuffle to the side and hope he won't spit any crumbs on you, "–he's the one who talks. I just listen and answer his questions."

Doyoung sends you an unbelievable look that's equivalent to 'Are you serious?' "Then ask some questions back, you fool!"

"I don't know what to ask though!"

"What? You truly are unbelievable." he groans and throws his head back. "I guess I have to step up my game and help out a poor soul, huh?"

You throw him an offended look. "I am not an imbecile!"

"I never said that, dumbass," he tuts. "But back to the point. Yedam likes music, just recommend him some songs and he's gonna love you. Or have a High School Musical marathon with him. For all I know, attend a concert with him or just let him show you his own songs– the possibilities are endless! You always meet up at that café and although it's nice and cozy there, it's getting boring. If you only knew how panicky Yedam gets when I bring you up in our conversations: pitiful! That's what it is!"

"I don't know if that'd be a good idea–"

"Listen, I have no idea why you are so against getting close to him and since we already had this talk, I'm not gonna bring it up again. But for the love of God, if you already agree on trying, then put in some effort yourself!" he exclaims and with every word, his hand gestures become bigger. It even reaches the point where you're certain that he's going to hit you in the face.

Nonetheless, he’s right. You desperately need to step up your game.

Yedam is confused when you send him a link while he’s talking about something you don’t bother listening to. His irritation is visible in his scrunched brows, in the way his gaze switches from you, then back to his phone, and in the little hitch in his voice.

“They say your music taste tells a lot by yourself.” you shrug and try to sound as casual as possible. “And, uh, perhaps I heard that you like listening to new songs.”

The confusion morphs into a small yet genuine smile once he sees that it’s a link to a Spotify playlist. “You’re not wrong about that. While we’re at it, here.”

Your phone vibrates, signifying a new text message. Just like him, you fail to hide your amusement when you see the link to his own Spotify playlist, followed by a SoundCloud profile.

“Let me guess, the SoundCloud one is where you post your own music?” you joke lightly but when you look up and meet Yedam’s bewildered expression, you gulp. “Did I say something insensitive?”

Yedam hastily shakes his head. “No, not at all! I’m just surprised that you remembered that I produce some songs too.”

“I mean, it’s hard not to forget that when Doyoung gushed about that for a good hour and you like to swoon about how much of an idol Cha Cha Malone is to you.”

He looks at you with a stunned expression. “Do I really talk that often about him?”

“No. I just remembered that, that’s all.” you smile lightly. Regardless of whether or not Yedam buys it, the apples of his cheeks are dusted red and he looks down as if he hopes for the floor to swallow him whole.

Quickly realizing that the atmosphere might turn into an embarrassingly long and awkward silence, you scroll through the Spotify playlist and chuckle when you recognize songs you haven’t heard in a while yet.

“Do you have something against my music taste?” Yedam asks, partly wary, partly sounding as if he was ready to brawl.

“No, of course not!” you explain once you calm down. “It’s just, it’s been a while since I heard the Jonas Brothers. Also, uh, I’ve never seen High School Musical and you have a lot of songs in it.”

Yedam looks like he's about to jump out of the window and his eyeballs might have fallen out of its sockets after your confession.

"What did you even do in your childhood?" He acts as if it was an unforgivable crime and then adds with conviction, "First of all, the entire soundtrack is on the playlist. Second of all, what are you waiting for? We need to catch up with things you should've done when you were a child!"

“What are you–” Before you get to finish your thoughts, he grabs ahold of your hand and leads you out of the café. “Where are we going?”

“My place,” he replies without looking back at you as he picks up his pace. “You need to watch all movies. I refuse to leave you uncultured.”

Your attempts of not having to watch any of the films prove themselves futile. That, and the other, unexpectedly childlike side of him make you stay. Even if you planned on running away, you couldn’t anyway. With the way your hands are intertwined, it’s hard to do so. Though by now you’re practically rushing down streets and occasionally bump into a pedestrian or two, the incredulous look on their faces when they see you hand in hand is something you don’t miss. 

You don’t know whether the feeling bubbling in your gut should feel warm.

When Doyoung said that Yedam knew every single song from High School Musical, he meant every single song.

You tried, you really tried to pay attention to the storyline. However, it’s not that easy when five minutes into the movie, the first song comes up and Yedam belts out every single note in a theatrical way. You find yourself anticipating the next song so he’ll sing more rather than the actual plot progression.

When Doyoung said that Yedam could sing, he meant he could sing. It would’ve been nice of him if he had warned you beforehand how angelic Yedam’s voice was because your jaw dropped to the floor the moment he started to sing. You didn’t know what you expected, but you certainly did not expect to be swept off the ground in a span of 0.08998 seconds.

“Did I just ruin your fun?” Yedam asks carefully, a bashful smile plastered on his face once the first song came to an end.

The question startles you and you blink at him in awe before you feel the heat creep up your cheeks. “What? No! I mean, no. I was just surprised that your voice is that nice,” you manage to choke out.

His smile widens, and your face flushes a deep red.

“So you don’t mind me singing along?”

“I prefer your voice over that guy right there…” you pause. “Wait, what? Forget what I said.”

“Me? Forgetting that? You wish,” he beams and erupts in laughter when you cover your face with your hands. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll sing along.”

You find yourself listening to Yedam singing anything your heart desires many times after.

While you still have no idea what exactly the plot of High School Musical is up until now, you indulge in the heavenly voice of your human jukebox even more with every passing day.

Depending on his mood, you discover the many facets of his personality. On days where he’s tired and you happen to stop by just because you’re casually in the neighborhood, he shows you his self composed songs. Although the bags under his eyes are impossible to miss, he keeps his head held up high and urges you to comment on all of his songs despite rather wanting to hide under the covers.

On days where you’re tired and happen to be lounging on his couch, he loves to lull you to sleep. His voice is soft and gentle, just like his hands playing with your hair as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Then there are days where it seems as if stole the sun’s job or had drunk too many energy drinks and jumps around like a lunatic while belting out the melody of My Heart Will Go On.

Today seems like a day where he’s just emitting happiness.

Truth be told, you don’t know when exactly you’ve let down your guard. The current scenario is too sickeningly domestic for your liking – with you leaning your head on his shoulder while his arm is lazily draped around you. The third installment of High School Musical running on screen doesn’t quite suit your taste either, yet you don’t make any amends to put some distance between you.

“Do you know how to dance?” Yedam asks casually, eyes glued on the screen. Currently, Troy and Gabriella are at the school rooftop and it seems as if the next song is going to start soon.

Your eyes narrow at him. “What are you planning?”

“I’ll take it as a no. But that’s fine too.”

“Yedam, seriously, what are you planning?”

There’s a gleeful twinkle in his eyes when he faces you. Before you can ask again, he stands up and pulls you up with him.

“Just trust me on this. It’ll be fun,” he interrupts you in the middle of your doubts. That shuts you up for good, yet it doesn’t hinder you from sending him warning glares.

You stay blissfully unaware of his ulterior motives until he firmly grabs one hand and puts your other on his shoulder, followed by planting his free hand on your waist. He shoots you a fond and reassuring smile to soothe your panicked self. Then slowly and surely, the first guitar strums come out of the speakers before Gabriella starts singing in the background.

A quick glance behind Yedam to the screen, where the lovestruck couple is also in the same position as you, is enough to let you know in which direction this is heading to.

“No. No. No. I can’t dance, much less slow dance–”

“I’ll guide you. Just keep your eyes on me,” he muses and tilts your chin so you lock eyes.

There are so many cells in you that are screaming at you to look away, but you’re unable to do so. There’s something behind the fragments of fondness in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher, but either way, you get lost in his eyes and your breath hitches.

“Let me guide you,” he repeats in a tone that makes you melt in a matter of seconds. You’re pretty sure your legs would’ve given up at this point if it weren’t for him who takes a step back and tugs you with him.

It goes without saying that you feel like a newborn baby deer that’s still clumsy on its legs. In the first few tries, you’re uncoordinated, stiff as a board and step on his toes a few times, and you’re not able to look away from him. He winces when you misplace your foot and you shoot him an apologetic look in return, but after some time, you get the hang out of it. Midway through the song, your legs no longer feel as if they’re going to mutate into jelly as you sway through the expanse of his living room.

“Look, you’re doing just fine,” Yedam reassures warmly before a grin etches across his lips; as if he just came up with a brilliant masterplan. “Wanna try a spin?”

“No,” you shoot out like a bullet and cause him to giggle. “This is enough for today.”

“Fine then, maybe next time.”

The rest of the song is spent in comfortable silence, warm smiles and occasionally knocking over a book or two when you happen to bump against the shelf. When the song comes to a slow end, you find yourself coming to a standstill. It’s just then when you realized how dangerously close Yedam really is. His breath hits your lips and you pick up the slight scent of spearmint.

You’re not the only one who notices. Yedam’s gaze switches from your eyes to your lips. Confliction is prominent in his face. Even though you’ve grown more comfortable around him, a feeling similar to home even, he’s aware he can’t cross all your limits yet. He doesn’t dare to prod further, lean a little bit closer and you know he’s wordlessly giving you the shots.

At this point, your heart practically hammers against your chest and you wouldn’t put it past him to hear it too. Perhaps, you’re in too deep and for a moment, you slowly move closer until it’s just a matter of a few millimeters separating you.

That is until you’re aware of the fact that you’re clinging onto his hand as if he were your lifeline. The realization causes a knot in your stomach. Suddenly, the doubts flash your mind; the fear that initially overcame you when you first met him at the party, when you found out who Yedam was.

There’s nothing wrong with Yedam. He’s nice and talented and genuinely cares. Yet at the same time, you’re not certain if there’s nothing wrong with him. You can’t be fully certain of him and that realization strikes you like lightning once more.

You try to ignore the sadness that washes over him for a short moment when you pull away.

“I’m sorry. It’s just a little complicated to explain,” you mumble apologetically.

“It’s fine,” he replies in the same manner.

There’s no doubt that you can see the genuineness in his eyes, but you can’t tell whether he was really telling the truth or was trying to manipulate himself into thinking that it truly is fine for him.

Surprisingly, as well as to your luck, he doesn’t bring up the episode again. In fact, he acts as if it never happened and honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You’ve become a little more cautious ever since, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t want him performing a little bit of skinship on you. He still sings for you, proudly shows you his latest songs and becomes cozy around you whenever you watch a movie.

Just like any other day you’re at his place, you’re sitting on the couch and currently scrolling mindlessly through your inbox while Yedam is on the other end of the couch.

“I really like you.”

You hope you misheard what he said. Yes, you definitely misheard it, you’re positive of that. The intensity of his gaze when your eyes meet begs to differ though.

Honestly, the day was bound to come sooner or later. After all, you’re not that oblivious. Yedam is similar to you, you like to think – he wears his heart on his sleeve. But whereas you let your bad sides show, he puts all the good in him on display.

“How are you so sure that we’re soulmates? Do you have any other reason besides the fact that I wear your name too?” you ask after a moment of silence. It costs you your entire willpower to not lash out on him and say once more that you’re not interested in something more than what you already have, but he wouldn’t believe that.

And frankly, you’re not sure if you would believe yourself either.

“I do,” he responds, voice full of conviction. “I say it so easily because I found the other person already, and I know that he’s not my soulmate.”

“Again, what makes you so certain about that?”

Yedam purses his lips and hesitates before he sits directly next to you. He opens his mouth several times, but no words come out.

Then suddenly, without any verbal warning whatsoever, he turns to you completely and tugs on the collar of his sweater, pulling it so far down until he exposes a strip of skin underneath his left collarbone.

You gape at the sight, hope you’re hallucinating. You really hope this is just a trick of the light. It must be one.

The pitch black ink contrasts with his skin, and though the letters are fine lines and easy to miss if you don’t pay attention, the name leaves a burning image in your head and a foul taste in your mouth.

Kim Doyoung.

“I wouldn’t put it past him to kill me if he really wants to. And trust me, he’ll definitely have a reason to do so.” Yedam chuckles dryly as he covers the tattoo.

Although you already know the answer, you ask flabbergasted. “Does he know?”

“That I wear his name? Unless he wears mine, which I highly doubt, no. He would’ve confronted me about this by now if he knew.”

It explains a lot. No, it explains everything. It explains why Yedam oozed confidence and was sure that you were bound to last a lifetime. It explains why he looks at you as if you were the center of his world without a doubt. It explains why he’s not afraid of you. He’s only been treading lightly because of you.

You sneak another glance at him and the sight causes something in you to break. Yedam is sitting right beside you, watching you carefully and pleadingly even. The specks of glimmer he holds in his eyes, the ones that reveal his feelings, aren’t even specks anymore. They’ve dissolved and you’re looking right through him. He wears his emotions on full display now, the desperation is prominent more than ever.

He’s treading lightly yet is needy for an answer and slowly reaches out for your hand. Before it can get so far, you turn away from him and croak out a weak “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t trust me?” you wince at the hurt laced in the undertone of his voice.

“It has nothing to do with me trusting you. It’s me, okay? It’s just–”

“–complicated, I get it,” he spits out the words as if they were acid and suddenly, the couch feels much lighter.

“Yedam, I didn’t mean it like that!” you stand up and grab the hem of his sweater in an attempt to bring him to a standstill. “I’m sorry.”

Yedam stands still, but he doesn’t turn around to meet you. He takes in a deep breath and sighs audibly, but you don’t miss the hitch in his breath as if he’s trying to contain something else.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–” he pauses, stabilizes his shaky pitch before he reaches back and detaches your grip, “Nevermind.”

He leaves you alone in his living room and it costs you your entire energy to not break down onto the floor.

He doesn’t text you anymore and as much as you itch to contact him, you don’t muster up the courage to actually do it.

Doyoung also noticed the shift in your relationship. Fortunately, he doesn’t pry further and never brings up Yedam in your conversations. You’ve never told him any details but you’re relatively sure that Yedam said some things to him.

Either way, Doyoung remains a great friend. He tries his best to lift up your spirits – even bought you a gallon of your favorite ice cream flavor along with a lifetime supply of candy of all sorts. Once he realized that his wallet was suffering, he resorted to cooking your favorite food, even if that almost resulted in him burning down the kitchen.

However, as much as Doyoung might distract you from your pity party, he’s not a permanent fix. You know it and he knows it. Therefore, it really doesn’t faze you when he brings up the last person you’d want on your mind (to your dismay, he’s the only person on your mind).

“He’s also miserable right now, you know?”

When you don’t respond, he sighs and drops on the seat next to you, seeing it as his cue to continue. “He’s waiting for your call. I don’t know what went down between the two of you, but you better sort it out. Not only am I running out of ideas to get you out of your house, but I’m also pretty sure you two will end up as living corpses if you don’t fix it soon.”

You lift up your head and purse your lips. “It’s not going to end well.”

“You always say that.” he rolls his eyes, sounding more fed up this time. “Yedam didn’t tell me a lot and I know you get turn hyperventilated whenever it comes to your tattoos, so I’m not going ask about that. I never did and never will, get it? All I know is that Yedam dished out his soulmate situation from start to finish. You should trust him too, wholeheartedly.”

“I would’ve done that if I could a long time ago!”

“If I could,” he mimics, two octaves higher than your actual tone, “You can! I don’t want to guilt trip you or anything, but it’s only fair if he knows too. He’s poured his heart out to you, why can’t you do the same? Just think like this: say we live in a world where soulmate tattoos don’t exist, would you like him?”

“I…” your voice trails off.  

Seemingly satisfied with your reaction, Doyoung sighs and stands up.

“I think you know the answer too. Talk to him, please.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never invited Yedam over to your place. That’s about to change when you send him your address and find him at your doorstep later in the evening. The sun is long gone and in its place shines the moon along with the stars. Their light is enough to taint your living room in a soft glow and it’s enough to notice every single one of his features.

He’s tired, looks like he hasn’t slept well in days, yet frankly, there’s something oddly comforting about his presence.

“You called?” he asks to break the ice.

Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. You could’ve also practiced weeks before but you doubt you’d ever get rid of the uncertainty laced in your shaky voice when you start to talk about that topic.

You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves. “I realized something. You never asked to see my tattoo.” It’s not what you rehearsed, but as long as it leads to the point, it’s alright.

“I didn’t want to pressure you,” he responds.

You observe his expression, narrow your eyes in a brief moment of contemplation before you slowly undo the scarf you’re wearing. Yedam is quick to guess where this is heading to and quickly stammers, “Wait, you don’t have to justify yourself in front of me!”

“No, I want to,” you say with conviction and turn around so he can see the black ink at the back of your neck. Although the room is just dimly lit, you know that he can see it clearly. For a moment, you get goosebumps as his fingers ghost over the ink, but you let him bask in his fascination.

“The truth is, this is the only tattoo I was born with,” you confess after a moment of silence.

He gulps. “What?”

“I only wear your name, Yedam. You’re smart, I’m sure you understand the weight of that.” You turn around but don’t find the courage nor the energy to look him in the eye. The silence is heavy, unbearable, and literally nothing about it lifts the pressure off your shoulders. You don’t need to see him to know how the revelation shatters his view on everything in millions of shards.

“Look at me, please,” he pleads instead, and when you shake your head in response, he gently cups your face. You have no other choice but to do as and are startled when all you see is not pure horror, but soft, pure and wholehearted adoration in him.

“God, (y/n), I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Believe me when I say you mean so much to me. You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to have you voluntarily open up to me. and now that I see the situation from your view, I get why you were so unwilling at first. But trust me when I say I only want the best for you and would never put you in danger.” The raw vulnerability in his voice makes you believe him for a while and keeps you from breaking out in tears.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I do know that. Did you already forget? Doyoung is my potential killer,” he says matter-of-factly and sends you a broken smile, “So before I kill you, I’ll make sure that he ends me first.”

“Great, and then my best friend ends up in jail.”

This time, he genuinely laughs. You, on the other hand, can’t bite down the small smile that paves its way on your lips from that weak joke.

“You’re right, I can’t guarantee your safety from me,” Yedam admits once he’s calmed down and tucks a strand of your hair in place before he goes on, “But I can guarantee that I’ll do anything in my power to make you happy. Have you even looked at my SoundCloud profile? Ever since I met you the majority of my releases are love songs!”

“So you admit that the songs are all about me?” you playfully raise a brow at him.

“Of course they’re all about you.” he breathes out as if the weight on his shoulders was lifted off of him. Yedam still looks like he could need some sleep, but there is no longer a sign of restlessness. He is at ease, and it shows the most when he adds fondly, “It doesn’t have to last forever. We can break it off if you feel unsafe. I hope we can at least try.”

The course of this conversation is oddly reminiscent to your first date in the café, you think. Back then, you were more than convinced that the only way this would end was as a tragedy. Back then, you just said your answer out of pity, one might say. But that was back then, and this time, you’re more than serious and more than convinced when you respond with a smile.

“Trying sounds good.”

[renjunvinates]

Expressions

Junkyu fics are a must too. ALL YGTB BOYS FICS ARE A MUST AND I WANT TO WRITE MORE FICS BUT WOW sad feelings really break me to stop. 

Characters: Kim Junkyu x You

Length: 1451 

Genre: Fluff

I was very hostile and I rarely showed emotions to people including to my crush and loved ones, I think they questioned if I really liked them, but trust me I do. I just didn’t have a lot of expression and I have high trust issues, but all in all I do care about them… I just don’t know how to show it.

Kim Junkyu, he was so loud and very up bright, he was someone you fawned over, because he was someone you wanted to be but didn’t know how too. It was also a bonus for me to like him because he was very cute.

It was a normal school day and I walked in to class taking a seat in the back corner, I popped earbuds into my ear and place my head down onto the desk and listened to music. It’s not that I hated everyone at school, but I hated everyone at school except for some people. The class was empty and no one shows up to class until like the last 2 minutes before class starts. I was the one who was always early and there first, but today it was weird. I put my head down onto the desk and closed my eyes and all of a sudden I heard the door open. I opened my eyes and looked over and saw it was Junkyu, I panicked and looks away towards the window. Junkyu seat was in front of yours and he sat down, it was really odd because he actually turned around and looked at your way. I tried very hard not to notice his glare but then he spoke.

“Hi (Y/N)!” He greeted.

I nodded and bowed my head to him.

“Not the talker? It’s okay,”

“I just don’t like talking,”

“It’s okay,I noticed you around alot, and i’ve never seen you show any expression, I guess curiosity is really getting to me,” He laughed.

“It’s something I’m working on,” I whispered.

“Really?!? Let me help you,” He grabbed your hands.

I was a taken back and took my hand away from his hand and I could feel my face burning up.

“Sorry, I’m not really good with close contact either,” I replied.

“Sorry.. I was being too pushy,” He apologize.

“It’s okay,” I assured. “But what do you say, can I help you?” he asked.

I nodded my head and he smiled at me.

I was a bit scared to open up, even if I liked Junkyu and fawned over him, my walls were up and I was really scared and terrified. I knew it would be best to have him help me, he’s like the perfect person to help me out on these kinds of things but I was afraid what if I fell for him even harder.

Few hours later (school is done) 

I put away all my belongings and he turned around and looked at me.

“(Y/N), lets hangout today?” He asked.

“Okay,”

He smiled so brightly and all I could do was give him a blank face.

“Are you annoyed?” He asked.

“No.. This is just how I am,” I replied.

I truly felt bad for him, the whole time we were hanging out he thought I wasn’t enjoying his presence, and he kept asking me about it. I wasn’t annoyed that he kept asking me questions. I was glad, I just didn’t know how to show it. I could see how worried he was but I could also see how much effort he was putting into trying to help me.

More time skips … Months Later 

It was exactly what I was a afraid of, the more I hung out with Junkyu the more I was falling in love with him. I didn’t want to admit it, and I was for sure going into denial but it was because I was just so scared of being hurt. Over the past months Junkyu and I have been hanging out once a week and I started to get more better showing my expressions. I could tell he was happy that I was making progress and he was also making progress getting closer to me. Although, I was afraid of opening up to him, I trusted him and he was just so sweet and caring, how could I not?

After school had ended, it was a daily session of hanging out with Junkyu, but this time it was different. He invited his friends along, and it’s not like I didn’t know. I knew, I was just nervous as heck because I was never around the popular kids a lot. I think Junkyu noticed how nervous a lot because my expression went blank and I wasn’t talking. He grabbed my hand and held it tight and looked at me and smiled. My heart melted. I tried to smile back but I couldn’t, all of us sat at the table and Junkyu offered to order and pay for the boys and for me also, and with that he left and let go of your hand. After Junkyu left all the boys stared at me, and I was panicking.

“Are you (Y/N)?” Seunghun asked.

I nodded.

“Are you guys dating?” Hyunsuk asked.

I shook my head and I saw Byounggon nudge Hyunsuk.

“Sorry, about that. It seems that Junkyu talks about you alot and it seems like he really likes you,” Byounggon said.

“He talks about me?” I asked.

“Yeah, and he never shuts up. He always talking about how he gets really happy when he makes you smile,” Yedam said.

A small smile formed upon my face and the boys saw.

“You like him don’t you?” Jihoon said.

“Yeah, but I don’t know if he likes me,” I replied.

“Don’t worry, with the way he talks about you with us. I think it’s safe to say he does. I just think he’s scared and he wants to take it slow. He doesn’t want to rush you, and he’s talking about not wanting to hurt you all the time,” Seunghun said.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah, it seems like he’s whipped,” Jihoon smirked.

The boys went quiet when they saw Junkyu heading their way towards the table, he set the food down, and sat beside me. He smiled at me and the boys looked at us and winked at me. I saw Yedam and he mouthed the words “Confess,”. My face turned red and Junkyu looked at me and was worried. He got up and excused himself and me and walked me out of the cafe.

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have invited them. You seem tensed up,” He frowned.

“No, no, no, this is something I need to work on. Besides your friends are really nice,” I assured.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you, you’ve been making really good progress,” He said.

“Hey Kyu, is it true, that you talk about me with the boys,” I asked.

“Uh a little bit,” He blushed.

“The boys told me you actually talk about me alot,” I replied.

“I didn’t think I did…”

“It’s okay, I’m not mad,”

“Whew, because I was scared I messed up,”

“Actually, they also told me that you liked me… Is that true?”

His face turned red and he was panicking.

“I… I do… But if you don’t have the same feelings, we can forget about this, and continue to be friends,” He panicked.

“Junkyu calm down, I like you too,” I said.

He looked at me and scanned my face.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

It seemed like my expression was still plain and blank for him to ask me. I sighed loudly.

“I’m sorry, I know I don’t show a lot of my expressions, but I really do like you alot,” I assured.

“Does that mean we can date?” He asked.

I nodded and he pulled me in for a hug, and he hugged me tightly.

“I’ll make sure you to treasure you, and we can work on these expression together,” He said.

I hugged him tightly and nodded, after that he released me from the hug and he grabbed my hand and walked back into the cafe. As we entered the boys looked at us as we sat down. Junkyu was smiley and he greeted the boys.

“Are you guys official now?” Byounggon asked.

Everyone looked at us as Byounggon asked the question.

I sat there and nodded and Junkyu smiled brightly.

“Guys stop staring you’re making her feel nervous,” Junkyu said.

I looked at him and gave him a smiled and grabbed his hand tightly.

“It’s okay,” I said.

“ wow y’all are cute, my son is growing up,” GonHun said in sync.

[yeunbins]

hi idk if ur requests r open (if not feel free to ignore this) but can i request an angsty yoonbin fic? i dont really have a prompt, maybe him being jealous & a fight breaks out?

can i request a sUper angsty (but happy ending pls my heart is weak when that shit ends sad😔👊) yoonbin fic? where yoonbin gets jealous of reader & junkyu, they fight & well u kno the drill. take all the time u need on this

genre: angst

pairing: jealous!yoonbin x reader ft. junkyu

a/n: angst hours,, i feel like i cant do a happy ending atm with this kind of plot, maybe in the pt. 2 if its requested i’ll make it a happy ending. hope u like this either way!!

requests: [closed]

“junkyu that was so funny!” you slapped junkyu’s shoulder for the nth time tonight. junkyu laughs even harder causing him to fall but he caught your hand so the both of you fell down, laughing even harder than before.

“man, that was amazing” you wiped a tear away from your eyes. you hear the door open, you and junkyu looked up to see your boyfriend standing there with a blank expression.

“am i interrupting something?” he says stoically, rolling his eyes. you look at junkyu apologetically, junkyu mouths ‘it’s okay’ and stands up, brushing his clothes.

“sorry bin, we were just playing around” junkyu apologizes. yoonbin nods and junkyu leaves the room, leaving you and yoonbin alone.

yoonbin didn’t say anything else but grabbed his bag from the corner. you took this as saying that you two would be going home now. you quietly stood behind him as you two walked to his car parked outside the YG building. he unlocks the door and waits for you to get in. ‘so he’s not mad..?’ you thought to yourself. you see him go around back and opened the drivers seat, sliding in and swiftly turning the engine on. next thing you know, you were on the road again.

it was a quiet ride and you two are currently stuck in traffic. you took a glance at him, to see him leaning against the window with a hand on the steering wheel. you see him poking his cheek with his tongue. his habit he does when he’s either annoyed or angry.

“binnie” you called. “hm?” he hums, “are you mad at me?” you say quietly, playing with his jacket you’re wearing.

“i’m not” he says blandly. you pout, “are you su–“

“look y/n i’m just tired from practice okay?!” he snaps, unintentionally hitting the steering wheel. you flinch at his actions. he notices and sighs,

“i’m sorry okay? i’m... just not in the mood right now” he says, looking at the highway ahead of you two.

arriving at your shared apartment, there was heavy tension in the air and it seemed like every move you make angers yoonbin even more. you walked into your shared room with yoonbin, grabbing your pajamas to head over to the bathroom.

“you know, just because i said you could be friends with my friends doesn’t mean you have to let them flirt with you” yoonbin fakes a laugh. you stopped in your tracks and whipped your head towards yoonbin who was in the kitchen drinking a glass of water.

“he wasn’t even flirting with me. we were just talking about his trainee days with yedam and the others” you defended, furrowing your eyebrows together. yoonbin scoffs,

“so now you’re defending him too? marvelous. congratulations, you found a new boyfriend” he claps his hands obnoxiously. you slowly walked towards him as your anger bubbles inside you.

“what the fuck is up with you” you spat. “me? everything’s fine! what about you? going behind my back like that with my close friend!” he points a finger at you. at this point you lost it,

“i have done nothing but be a faithful girlfriend to you. i almost sacrificed everything to be with you and suddenly, i hang out with your friends since you’re so ‘busy’ all the time and suddenly everything is my fault!” you angrily wiped the tears that was in your eyes.

yoonbin’s chest tightened at the sight of you crying. he hated to see you cry especially when he’s the reason behind it. he felt a sudden realization that he just overreacted over the whole thing. you were right, he was in fact busy nowadays writing raps or rearranging songs or helping others.

“y/n–“ yoonbin moves around the counter but you shook your head and ran to your bedroom locking it. ‘fuck’ yoonbin mutters and follows you to the bedroom. he tries to open the door but you locked it. “y/n open up!!” he bangs on the door but you ignored him.

you grabbed a spare backpack from the top shelf of your cabinet and shoved some of your clothes to sleep in. you would rather stay at your parents place for awhile rather than living with yoonbin.

“y/n, come on! i’m sorry!” yoonbin bangs the door again. you ignored him and grabbed your phone to inform your mom you’d be staying over for awhile.

you hear the doorknob jingling and suddenly the door busts open to reveal a really worried, red faced yoonbin. he immediately ran over to you and hugged you. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry” he kept repeating in your hair. you didn’t hug him back, instead you pushed him away.

“just leave me alone” you cried. his heart broke even more. “y/n please...” you see his lips trembling but you didn’t care, you grabbed your duffel bag and walked over the door.

“i’ll be staying at a friend’s place for a while. i’ll see you wherever” you say, walking over to the front door. you hear yoonbin apologies again but you ignored them all. right before you were gonna leave, you felt arms snake around your waist.

“please.. don’t leave me...” you hear him sniffle. you removed his arms around your waist. you stare at his crying eyes. “i won’t leave you but I need some time alone, okay?” you croaked. the color from his face drained. “i’m sorry and i love you. i’ll see you later” you kissed his cheek. what you usually do before leaving off somewhere.

after you closed the door, you immediately ran to your mom’s car waiting at the lobby while yoonbin stood there staring at the front door thinking what he has done.

[binsualship]

》9:19pm《

You call Hyunsuk after ep. 9 to congratulate him but he picks up crying. You ask him whats wrong and he answeres that he feels so bad for the rest of Team Boomerang and that he should have guided them better. You reassure him that it's not his fault. Hearing your voice always calms him down. He now sits on a bench in a corner if the room and closes his eyes. You tell him to just concentrate on your voice. You softly talk to him and he constantly feels better. He now understands that it's not his fault. He's so thankful for everything you does for him. A small 'I love you' comes out of his mouth. 'I love you too Hyunsuk, just call me whenever you need me alright, you don't have to bear with all of that on your own. I love and support you so much!' A small tear runs down his cheel after hearing your words. He's so happy to have you!

[scandalouskc]

best friend ♢ kim seunghun

requested - no :(

warnings - probably not

genre - angst

word count - 751

inspired by the song Best Friend - iKON + i highly recommend you listen to it while reading this, if you can. 

- C

- SEUNGHUN’S POV -

“he said he wants to break up with me,”she said, crying over the phone. it was the 3rd time this month. it hurts to see her like this. 

ruffling my hair, i respond,”i’m sure he didn’t mean it, y/n...”

“he sounded like he meant it. am i lacking? am i not giving him enough love?”y/n pauses to catch her breath, all i could hear was her muffled sniffles. 

“y/n, don’t ever think that. if -”i stopped myself.

if i were him, you’d be more than enough.

“if what?”y/n whispered.

“if i were you, i’d just sleep it off. i’m sure he’ll call you in the morning. he’s drunk, he won’t remember a thing,”i paused,”and you guys can go back to the way you guys used to be.”

“you’re right, seunghun. i feel like i’m overreacting, i probably am,”y/n rambled,”i’m so glad you’re my best friend. you’re like the brother i never had.”

i was so glad she couldn’t see me through the phone. i was glad she couldn't see the frown on my face as she said those words. i was glad she couldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes after realizing that i’d never be anything but that best friend.

“right,”i said. 

“goodnight seunghun,”y/n said, her voice hoarse. 

“goodnight y/n,”i replied,”and y/n?”

“yeah?”

“you’re more than enough. you’re not lacking, you are the definition of perfection. and if he can’t see that, then he’s not the one for you. there’s someone out there who can treat you so much better... and love you more than he’s ever loved you,”i continued. 

me. i’m right here. i can treat you right. i can love you right. 

y/n was silent for a few seconds before she replied to what i said,”thanks seunghun. but for some reason i can’t seem to distance myself away from him. i love him.”

“i’m so lucky to have you. you’re the shoulder i can cry on. honestly, i don’t know what i’d do without you seunghun. i love you so much,”y/n said.

my heart fluttered hearing those words come from her lips, but hurt so much after realizing how she meant it. 

“you can always lean on me, y/n. i’m always here for you when you need me... always.”

if i’m the person you can lean on, then i’m okay. 

- THIRD PERSON POV -

seunghun and y/n didn't talk for days after that. seunghun thought she left him for good because, like always, she goes back running to him. while he chased her, she chased him; it was a never-ending cycle. sometimes, at night, he ponders and dreams of being hers. he knows he’d treat her better. he didn’t even like to drink, so they’d never get in those stupid arguments they have. he knows he’d love her unconditionally and would never think she wasn't enough. to him, seeing her was enough to make him dizzy and crave for her love. but those were cravings, and you can't always have what you crave.

seunghun lay in his bed late that night, just thinking about nothing in particular. that was until his wandering eyes caught the picture of him and y/n on his desk. he started to think about how different his life would be if he was beside y/n. not as a best friend, but as her boyfriend. her partner in crime. her other puzzle piece. her other half. he wanted so badly to be that, because to him she was everything. she was his parter in crime. his other puzzle piece. his other half. but what good were those titles when he knew he’d never get over that damned forsaken wall. 

seunghun cried softly into his duvet. he wanted to cry on her shoulder. he wanted her to be there for him, like he was for her. but he’d never get that. she was happy with him. he was enough for her, but seunghun wasn’t. he was everything y/n wanted. why couldn’t she want seunghun? why couldn't she love seunghun as much as she loved him? why couldn’t she realize how deep seunghun’s love was for her? 

all those unanswered questions left seunghun’s heart clenching. it hurt to realize  that, seunghun knew. it hurt to love the exact person hurting you, seunghun knew. but he couldn't stop himself from loving her. 

she was everything. 

her voice. her personality. her sense of humor. her habits. her eyes. her hair. her lips. everything. he was in love with everything. who knew it hurt this much to love?

seunghun wished it’d be over soon. seunghun wished y/n would soon realize that he was the one for her. 

seunghun wished. 

[kpoptionate]

« prompt 99 : kim doyoung »

[19:32] he remains on the couch, legs up to his chest and arms wrapped around them as he let the tears fall down his cheeks. that wasn’t the first time you guys have argued so badly, but you’ve never actually left him afterward. though the argument was yesterday, doyoung has been praying that you would come back. and it seems like his prayers have been answered when he hears a soft knock at his front door.

he rushes to the door and doesn’t hesitate to open it, but he stands still when he sees you look up at him with a guilty face. you weren’t crying before, but when he steps aside to let you come in, you can’t help but let your eyes well up past their full capacity.

not really knowing your actual reason for returning, doyoung closes the door and stands in place, a feeling of hopefulness throughout his body. his thoughts remove themselves from his mind, however, when you slowly make your way toward him and wrap your arms around his body, finally letting your emotions go and make their way to dampen your boyfriend’s shirt.

“i-i’m so sorry,” is all you can meekly say through sobs, causing doyoung to do so himself as he tightens his grip around your frame as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“shh, it’s okay. you did nothing wrong.” his fingers weave themselves through your hair as you both cry into each other, letting the other know how much regret you have for the things you said and that it was all out of spiraled rage. his chest is heaving up and down at moments and stopped completely at others in an attempt to control himself. a few minutes later, you both compose yourselves and hesitantly pull away, drying your faces and catching your breaths.

doyoung cups his hands around your cheeks and tilts your head to look at him. he gives you a rueful grin and leans in to leave a small peck on your nose—“i’m so fucking sorry”—then your forehead, chin, and finally your lips. “god, i really am.” he pulls your still-quivering body to his own once more, resting one hand on your back and the other at the nape of your neck. “please don’t leave me again. i don’t know what i’d do if you left.”

you giggle, leaning your head up to press a small kiss to his jaw. “i won’t, baby. i promise.”

[trsrina]

hiii!! i love ur blog is so pretty ~ can i request angst w a mix of fluff for jihoon from trsr ? thank you in advance <3

ofc!! thank you so much 😭😭

MIDNIGHT Treasure Jihoon

written in second person pov, gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, angst warning!! anxiety in a relationship? wc : 565

another sleepless night with your mind clouded by thoughts that keep you up, different possibilities entering your head.

turning over to face the digital clock that sits on your bedtime table, the glowing of the number ‘00:00’ comes into your vision.

you have college in six hours yet you’re still wide awake, talk about sleep deprivation. as your mind wanders off, you think about your boyfriend, jihoon, he’s probably still in the practice room, practicing for his upcoming stages.

that was also one of your many worries that keep you up, your boyfriend being an idol, you have your insecurities but the thought of you just being a waste of your boyfriend’s time and how he could do so much better than you like how others tell you.

just in time, it seems that your boyfriend decided to have a late night visit or it’s an intruder as you hear your front door open with footsteps towards your bedroom.

it’s 12 in the morning and you simply don’t have any energy left to check if it’s jihoon or an intruder that could possibly murder you, if death decides to welcome you then let it be.

“good morning, sleeping beauty, why are you still awake?” the familiar voice of the man of your dreams rings in your ears, you automatically sit up to welcome him in your arms, feeling the warmth of his body which is from the sweat from his vigorous practices.

“nothing, just thinking of stuff, what are you doing here? you must be tired from practice. you should’ve gone straight to the dorms,” you worriedly said as he held your hands, comfortably getting into your bed though he’s covered in sweat and kinda stinks.

“what was going on in your pretty mind?” jihoon lays beside you, playing with your messy hair with his hands, staring in your glistening eyes.

noticing the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, jihoon knew something was wrong, “what’s wrong? you can tell me,” he caressed your hair, hoping to give you as much comfort as he can.

“it’s just,” before you knew it, your tears started falling down like waterfalls, uncontrollably crying in your knight in shining armour’s arms, “everything’s so stressful and i have been so tired lately. everything with just school and just sometimes, i think you deserve better than me and i’m just not worth your time.”

“what are you even talking about? i love you so much, alright? you’ll always be worth it and we deserve each other. i love you through all your insecurities and imperfections, no matter what happens,”

jihoon whispered those words softly into your ears, welcoming you in his warm embrace, giving you the affirmation you needed.

“thank you, i can’t even begin to describe how much i love you,” you buried your face into his shoulder, soaking his already sweat-soaked shirt with your tears, hiding your puffy eyes and tear-soaked face.

“hey, come on, let me see your beautiful face,” jihoon tries to cheer you up, moving your face to face him and looking into your eyes with an adorable smile that never failed to give you comfort.

“there now, stop crying, alright? i love you,” he hugged you again with your heavy breaths slowly slowing down.

you relax in his embrace and sooner than you know it, you fell asleep in his arms, your midnight insomnia vanishing.

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE hope you liked it lol pls like and reblog lol pls

[theficblog]

CONTRETEMPS

BANG YEDAM

Prologue: Ending up in a quarrel with the popular boy shortly after joining your new school wasn’t surely a thing on your list

Genre: Angst + Highschool AU + Haters to lovers

Wordcount: 1,517

Warnings: None

Your heart was beating at an unmeasurable rate, and goosebumps were now evidently visible on your flesh. A peculiar sense of shiver was accompanied by a tingling that could not be accurately described through words. You took a deep breath. No, you weren’t falling in love. It was your first day at your new arts high school that made you feel this certain way.

You had been studying at the same school for as long as you could remember. Spending almost all of your life in one place leads to one forgetting the art of making friends. This was a new stage of life, and you had to go out, get a social circle for yourself, meet people and make friends. There was no way you were going to survive this on your own.

Time flew rather quick now that you were engaged with other students. Needless to say it was terrifying to be standing in front of your new classmates and introduce yourself, but the beaming smiles and welcoming eyes made it a whole lot easier for you. "Hello everyone! I’m Y/L/N and this is my first day here. I hope we can be friends. Please take care of me."

You were soon engulfed by a group of students. The chat started with them learning the basics about you, who you were, where you came from and what you did. You were overwhelmed. You did not expect them to accept you this quickly. Worry and anxiety and the fear of a new school vanished. You looked forward to going to that place every working day.

A whole week had passed since then. By now, most of your peers and teachers were known to you. Some of whom were funny, laid-back, careless, friendly and some who were not quite happy with your presence. The remaining latter was lesser in number, but you were not there to bother about it.

You were able to capture the attention of your new school and showcase your talent.Not to brag about it, but the limelight was placed upon you. Composing abilities, appreciated vocals, and the ability to write lyricsThe high grades and excellent remarks you received were the icing on the cake.

Things were going smooth, just as you wanted them to but life is something beyond control. It takes turns, hits and bumps, it does not worry to care about your likes and dislikes.

"Oh, I’m sorry, but that doesn't really sound right. The note that you’re playing after the third one doesn’t fit well with that melody. How about you-"

You had to shut mid sentence. The intention was to help the boy out who appeared to be struggling with one particular note but he did not look like he welcomed it.

The boy was now staring at you. A glimpse of cockiness and pride in his eyes. His hair, which was dyed to light tint of brown placed itself firmly on his forehead. An earring or two hanged from his ears, and fancy silver jewellery almost always caught everyone’s attention. He did not look like an ordinary student, though, or maybe he was just rich and his money gave him the not-like-the-others aura. His gaze grew darker as he kept on staring at you, an emotion that could be perceived as jealousy. His lips wore a pinkish color, puckered as he possibly grinded his teeth. His look was sullen.

You were sure you hadn’t seen him on campus anytime before.

"Who do you think you are?" were the boy’s exact words. Of course, you took him to be a spoilt brat. Rudeness dominated his personality. He got up from his chair, in the composing room that was, primarily open and accessible to every student. However, this boy had a presence as if he owned the place.

"I’m sorry, I was just here trying to help you w-"

"As if I asked for it!" Yet again, he started to growl before you could even finish. You were too nonplused by his behavior. Why would he take so much offence and rage out at you in this way? Well, maybe he was having a bad day.

"No I-" You stammered. Thinking of any comeback that you learnt from Tiktoks but shit, they were never supposed to work at the right time.

He rolled his eyes at you as his lips positioned themselves to spit out the poison and bitter feelings he had inside him. "You’re new here, right? It’s better that you mind your business, if you’ve got any, of course." With those words he stormed out of the room.

He slammed the door open, revealing two of your new friends. Oh damn! They probably heard this conversation. You were too embarrassed to face them. Was it going to go in vain? All the friends you made, all the reputation you built as the next potential top student. All these worries encircled your head as you walked towards them.

"Oh, Y/N, please don’t mind him, he is too tired I guess." One of the two voiced.

"Tired of what? His bitter self?" You expressed, quite surprised as to why your friends sided the boy.

"He’s overworking himself. Yedam. Bang Yedam, don't you know him?" Inquired the other one. He was no celebrity, not as per your knowledge. Oh, maybe he was too rich that everyone knew of him.

"No, is he in our class?" You questioned him back.

"Yes but you won't always see him around a lot at school, especially at the beginning of the semester. He’s an idol trainee, quite popular." He clarified, answering your question.

You brushed off your hand, trying and pretending to not care about him, at least physically. You could not lie to yourself; your mind was still pondering him.

Two days went through, you were somewhat used to the new place and people. Things were back on the track yet again and Yedam was not seen at school since that day. "He must be too busy, I don’t think he’s going to think about what happened that day." You thought to yourself, fidgeting with the pencil in your hand, completely lost in your own world.

You were soon brought back to the reality as you heard a loud thud next to you. Someone placed their bag on the bench, right next to you. Before you could protest, the student turned around, revealing himself to be none other than Bang Yedam. Oh God! Why was here again. Could he not have occupied some other place. You mentally dropped out the plan to complain and proceeded to review your notes.

It's not like you couldn’t afford one more hater, Yedam was nowhere to be termed near a hater though, it was just a petty argument. You decided to forget that. Maybe he was just too tired. Who cares?

The first half of school had ended and it was now lunch time. The students, high school students, still rushed them out of the classes as soon as the bell rang, like elementary kids. Youth was wild.

You collected your stuff and started walking towards the door when you heard him call your name. The only one who was left in the class, Yedam. "Y/N!"

You took nanoseconds to decide on whether to respond back or walk with ego, but you went with the former. Turning around, you saw him trying to process his words.

"I’m sorry about that day. I did not mean to. Umm.. I know you’re new, trust me I did not mean to be that harsh."

You were astonished, the rude brat from two days ago was now apologising to you? You were quick to revert. "Yeah, I get it, you were just jealous."

"Exactly!" Yedam blurted it out in an instant without giving it a second thought. He admitted it this time as his eyes wandered around trying to find a place for them.

"No, That’s alright, Yedam. You don’t have to feel sorry about it. We all lose our temper sometimes, I probably just got the wrong time for myself." You assured him.

A smile was now forming on his lips. This was the first time you witnessed his otherwise sulked and bossy lips curve themselves in this form. You heart fluttered for a second as he displayed his gums now. Ah! his smile was contagious for sure.

"How about I show you around the campus? Would you like that?" Yedam suggested. You understood he was just trying to get familiar with you but your honesty filled conscious had prepared something else.

"It’s actually been two weeks since I’m here, please no more campus tours." You whined, accompanying it with a smile. Yedam He reverted back the same.

"Ahh! I see!" he hummed.

"Then let’s go the music room, I’m sure I can show you a lot around there, we could even try and work on some piece of music." This offer seemed better and you bought it immediately.

You and Yedam were now back to where it all started. Everything remained the same, except for your feelings towards each other.

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[angelamazing]

A Friend’s Embarrassment is the Key to Success.

Pairing : Junkyu x Reader

Genre : Purely Fluff

Word Count : 1.6k

You're not the kind of person who would outwardly show affection to someone.

You would always find it weird when people tried to hug you or even touch you and it makes you shiver like you don't actually want it.

But what’s weirder is you are not a fan of PDA but you can't seem to just keep your hands to yourself when it comes to one person.

He was like a magnet, everytime he was around it's like there was a pull and it makes you want to stick beside him all the time.

Kim Junkyu. He was that person.

People find it weird whenever you were with Junkyu. You seem so hostile to other people other than your friends especially Junkyu, some of your friends in your friend group would often say that you’re whipped for Junkyu. Which you wouldn't deny because in fact you actually are whipped for him.

People would mistake him as your Boyfriend but you would often just wave them off saying that you aren't dating or anything. But oh how you wish you two were.

You’ve liked Junkyu long enough, but decided to keep it as a secret and you aren't even sure about your feelings yet and you are still on the stage of denial so you yourself are confused of it.

None of your friends knew about it but it's better to keep it that way than to say it, it would be quite risky also since your friends are loud mouthed so there's no denying that one way or another they would find a way to tease the heck out of you as soon as they find out.

There was one time where you caught sight of Junkyu standing by his locker.

So you being you decided to approach him.

But you stopped in your tracks realizing he was talking to a girl. A very attractive one.

You frowned at the thought that Junkyu must’ve been enjoying their conversation since he was smiling at her and laughing loudly at what the girl was saying.

You huffed feeling bitter all of a sudden and turned on your heels walking on the opposite direction where Junkyu and the girl was.

You walked to your classroom earlier than the specific time expecting you would be alone, since most of the students would most likely to be lurking around somewhere than staying in the boring classroom.

But what you didn't expect was two of your friends were already there they were talking way to loudly for you to not recognize them.

You sighed pulling the chair out on your desk, not bothering to greet the two who seemed so immersed in their ongoing conversation.

You plopped your head on your desk tuning out their annoying voices.

They must've noticed you were there because seconds later you heard shuffling of feet followed by a chair being pulled beside you and on the seat infront of you.

“Am I seeing things? You aren't with Junkyu today” Hyunsuk spoke.

“So?” You mumbled “do you expect me to just cling into him all day?”

“yes? I mean you always do” Jihoon snorted.

You lifted your head and glared at him.

“oohhh someone's not in the mood” Jihoon teased

“Fuck off” you scowled slouching on your chair.

Hyunsuk stared quizzically at you.

“What?”

“I was just wondering why you look so moody today” he hummed.

“Is it that time of the month?” Jihoon gasped.

You smacked his arm making him hiss in pain while rubbing the part where you probably smacked him hard enough.

“Go away”

“did something happened between you and Junkyu?” Hyunsuk asked

You frowned hearing Junkyu’s name “What makes you think that me being moody has something to do with him?” You spat rolling your eyes.

“so it is?”

“ofcourse not!” You slammed your hand on your desk standing up making the two boys raise their brows at you.

You groaned sitting back down, you know you wouldn't get away without telling these two why you were actually acting weird.

So you told them everything, about seeing Junkyu talking to another girl and seeing him laugh.

“sounds to me like you were Jealous” Jihoon spoke making you want to jump towards him and choke him to death but before you could even do just that Hyunsuk spoke.

“do you perhaps like Junkyu?”

“Ofcourse I do he’s my friend” You interjected.

“I mean like as in like him Romantically not platonically, you get what I mean?” Hyunsuk explained wringing his hands wildly.

You thought about it, do you possibly like Junkyu? Do you? You shook your head a couple times before replying to Hyunsuk.

“H-how could I possibly like Junkyu that way? He’s my friend” You stuttered just by thinking about it.

“Your stuttering gives it away” Jihoon scoffed “and just because he's your friend doesn't mean you can't like him”

You groaned staring upright “I don't know, okay, I don't exactly know if I like him as a friend or more than that, it's actually confusing me right now”

“Well first of all, Do you feel like you just wanted to be with him all the time?” Jihoon asked a hint of curiosity lacing his voice.

You stared at him weirdly before answering hesitantly “Yes? Kinda?”

“Do you feel jealous whenever a girl talks to him?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever think of keeping him just for yourself?”

“Yes” you sighed realizing that you do infact wanted Junkyu for yourself and don't feel like sharing him with anyone.

“Then no doubt you actually like him” Jihoon spoke proudly puffing his chest out.

“Wow you actually used your brain for once” Hyunsuk patted Jihoon’s shoulder.

“what does that even mean‽”

Hyunsuk completely ignored Jihoon’s whining and turned to you.

“so Y/N? Do you like Junkyu?” he questioned

“Yes Maybe I do like him” you sighed “but-”

You were suddenly cut off when Hyunsuk started yelling.

“YAH!! KIM JUNKYU DID YOU HEAR THAT!?”

Suddenly the door to the classroom flew open and a weird smiley looking Junkyu made his entrance.

“Crystal Clear” He mumbled before making eye contact with you.

You choked on your spit looking back at Hyunsuk and back at Junkyu.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked actually terrified at the fact of him hearing you admit that you like him.

“Long enough?” He shrugged.

“looks like our mission is done here, we’ll leave it all up to the both of you” Hyunsuk winked, dramatically exiting the classroom with Jihoon.

“so”

“so?”

“why didn't you tell me you like me?”

You stared at him. And sighed

“why would I? It’s not like you feel the same anyways, and besides I was too confused of my feelings back then”

“how would you know that I don't feel the same?” He asked waiting expectantly for your reply.

“I just know”

“how so?”

“I don't know? Maybe because-”

“because what? Y/N i’ve liked you ever since Jihoon introduced you to us and Jihoon knows it very well that I do, i’m even surprised at the fact that you didn't find out that I like you when all Jihoon does is give subtle hints about someone liking you among our friend group”

“well, I didn't think he was serious” you retorted.

“And for all I know I acted extra affectionate towards you but you still don't get it” he sighed “So I assumed that you aren't interested”

“so i’m the dumb one then?”

“you aren't dumb just clueless and very slow thinker” he giggled

You groaned covering your face out of embarrassment.

Junkyu pulled your hand off of your face and held it among his.

You stared at each other for a few seconds before he cupped your face leaning in and closed the gap between you.

He pulled away seconds after leaned his forehead to yours smiling widely.

“will you be my girlfriend?” he asked.

You smiled back at him.

“ofcourse”

“Oh Fucking finally!” “took you long enough cowards!”

You jumped startled all of a sudden when all of your friends burst through the door.

You squinted your eyes at them.

“waahh i’m never doing this ever again” Haruto entered the classroom

Making you confused as hell because he was wearing a girl’s dress.

“What the f- why are you dressed like that?” you asked

“why do you think?” he asked you like you would actually know

“He was the “Girl” you got jealous of” Jihoon smirked

“What‽ You were that girl?”

“Yeah no shit” Haruto groaned throwing the wig he was holding across the room “I have embarrassed myself too much for you guys”

“You did go these far? Just to make me admit that I like Junkyu? Wow”

“Why? Are you impressed?” Hyunsuk clapped.

“You guys are unbelievable” you said shaking your head.

“but A for effort I guess” you shrugged.

“we don't want an A we want food, so let’s go and yeet the hell out of here because I'm hungry” Jengwoo interrupted

“You didn't even do anything” Mashiho snickered.

“what do you mean I didn't do anything? I made sure-”

“Yeah whatever let's just go and eat” Hyunsuk waved them off pushing them out of the classroom.

You laughed and turned to Junkyu.

“Come on lovebirds stop being gross and lets goooo!” Jihoon spoke walking off.

You laughed as Junkyu intertwined your fingers with his.

“lets go?” you smiled as Junkyu pulled you out of the classroom.

You smiled at how Junkyu was being cute. A man child indeed.

“Kajja Kajja Kajja!” he sing songed following your friends with your intertwined hands swaying.

*Your friends still bickering in the background*

“last one to arrive at the cafeteria has to pay” Hyunsuk suddenly announced making all of you run to the cafeteria.

And to summarize it all it was a very chaotic day but at least you got a boyfriend.

[speckofglitter]

pressure enough to break pt.1 | ha yoonbin

warnings: light swearing

notes: i just miss yoonbin and i miss writing so here y’all go lol

Adulthood is full of lessons. Perhaps too many. Meeting him was one of them.

I grew up thinking I was invisible. I wasn't really considered conventionally attractive at all, growing up in a primarily white town. I was used to being seen as abnormal, ugly and strange but I somehow still managed, excelling in academics and sports. At the age of 13, my parents decided to move to Korea to start an English language school. To be honest, I was happy to escape my shitty ass hometown. I learned Korean pretty fast, went to an international school and finally made some real friends. One of them I was particularly attached to. Yoonbin used to sneak me out at night and we would smoke together on his rooftop. Wasn’t necessarily what the two top students of the school should’ve been doing but it was relaxing for the both of us. He was also the first person I would call whenever I was stressed out or confused about anything. Until one night everything changed.

As seniors there was one night where the whole grade would come together to party before you all finally graduated, senior night. It wasn’t necessarily a big deal to you but it was to everyone else, including your friends Momo and Chaeyoung. The two girls dragged you out to go shopping before the event, desperate to find you something sexy to wear. You usually wore casual streetwear fits, not bothering with the typical Korean girly look as you knew it wouldn’t suit you.

“Come on y/n can you just try it out? You have one night to finally stand out, can you just listen to us” Momo sighed as she put a black minidress against your frame.

“I’m an American girl in Korea. I think I stand out a lot bestie,” you laughed, carefully looking at the dress against you. It was a bit short for your liking but… maybe not that bad.

“Ok well if you can just go in the dressing room and try it on that'll be great” yelled Chaeyoung, pushing you into a stall.

_

“Omg you look amazing!!! I fucking knew it you’re gonna be the baddest bitch tonight I swear Yoonbin is gonna cry” Momo squealed as you left her bathroom, finally changed into the dress she had picked out earlier.

“Can you please chill out with the Yoonbin shit, it’s not like that between us.” you smiled, reaching for your makeup bag to put on some blush.

“Bro, he definitely likes you. I don’t know any other guy who would risk getting caught by your strict ass parents to go see you every night.” Chaeyoung pointed out.

“Welp, even if he does it won’t change anything because we’re going to different colleges anyways.”

“In the same city! Can you stop being so cynical all the goddamn time.” sighed Momo.

“Ok guys we gotta start pregaming, the party’s almost starting.” Chaeyoung smiled, handing you and Momo each a Smirnoff bottle.”

_

Honestly, the night was much better than you had imagined. This was basically the only night your parents allowed you to party. You were finally free, out partying, drinking, flirting. You felt so... powerful? As the DJ started to play Partynextdoor you pushed Momo out onto the dancefloor, hands all over her. You couldn’t help it, I mean she was sexy as hell lol.

“Damn, I see you havin fun over here?” Yoonbin whispered, giving you a side hug.

“Welcome to the party!” you sang along, clearly drunk.

He laughed, dancing along with the both of you.

“Wait, I see Jaehyun over there I’ll be right back!” Momo explained, rushing over to the opposite side of the room.

You didn’t even register that she was gone as Yoonbin grabbed your waist, pulling you close.

“You look amazing tonight” he whispered, kissing you on the cheek.

It wasn’t a big deal right? I mean he had kissed you on the cheek before, when you were crying over your first boyfriend…

“Thank you” you smiled, moving your hands to the back of his neck.

“You seem drunk, you wanna go get some water?”

“But they don’t have any more water here, I don't wanna be lame and leave the girls here” you whine, looking around to find Chaeyoung and Momo around some of your other guy friends.

“They’ll be fine, they're with Jaehyun,” he smiled, pulling you towards the exit.

Normally you would've been annoyed. But it was Yoonbin, you could trust him with your life.

He took you to a nearby convenience store, getting you water and some snacks and before you knew it you were snacking on a bag of chips and just walking along the roads of Seoul.

“Where are we actually going?” you paused after a while, staring back at him.

“Ummm, I don’t know to be honest I just wanted to be with you.” he smiled.

“You were with me, like the whole night?”

“No, like alone. I know this is your only night to party but I’m really gonna miss you when we go to college you know…” he admitted.

“Yoonbin we’re still gonna see each other” you laughed, linking his arm with yours.

“It won’t be the same though, who’s gonna be my free therapist?”

“Hey, if anything you were my free therapist considering all the boy problems you helped me solve. Anyways, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of amazing people in your new school and you’re gonna forget all about me” you nudged him.

“But nobody’s ever gonna top you.” he whispered.

You were about to reply but then Yoonbin stopped you, turning you around.

“We’re back at the party location. Wanna go back in for round 2?” he smirked.

“Yeah, let’s find the others” you smile, throwing the empty bottle and snacks into a nearby trash can before entering.

_

“The DJ is on fire tonight!” Chaeyoung screamed, moving side to side as you all jammed to the Calvin Harris song coming from the speakers.

It was that one song you and Yoonbin used to listen to literally every summer night whilst smoking. You turn to him, smiling as you grab his hands, pushing them up into the air.

“You still remember this song?”

“Can you please stop being overdramatic, I haven’t forgotten any of our memories Yoonbin!” you yelled.

_

You woke up the next morning in a familiar bedroom, wearing a big shirt.

“Where tf am?” you stood up abruptly.

“Relax.. It’s like 7am” Yoonbin groaned, standing up from where he was sleeping on the floor.

“Omg it’s you, how did I get back here? And change into this?” you look down.

“Oh, it’s not like that Momo and Chaeyoung came all the way here to make sure you were alright and changed you into the shirt, they’re downstairs sleeping on my couch” he reassured you.

“Oh, so nothing happened?”

“Why did you want something to happen between us?”

“Um, no I’m just saying…”

“I’m just messing with you y/n” he smiled, grabbing your right cheek.

••

masterlist - requests are open !!

- ya girl tiyi 💖

[renjunvinates]

Coward

The tags of ygtb have been really dry lately and it makes me very very very sad LOL because I want new content and things to read and to laugh about, but because of YG stupid ass we get nothing. Anyways here’s a new writing. I haven’t been able to write because my writers block is hitting me really hard... I’m sorry )): but here is a Yoonbin fic I’ve been working on.

Characters: Ha Yoonbin x You

Length: 1609

Genre: Angst + hint of fluff

It’s been eight months since i’ve broken up with Yoonbin. In all honesty I never wanted to break up with him, but things were said and done. Never have I once didn’t like him, no, I loved him more than anything.

“You’re dozing off again,” Junkyu said.

“Yeah, I know,” I replied.

“What are you stuck on about,”

“Him. Ha Yoonbin,”

“(Y/N), just go and talk to him,”

“Are you insane? No, I can’t, I haven’t seen him since we broke up. I don’t even think he cares,”

“You’re the one who broke up with him, and now you’re over here mourning over him. I don’t get it,”

“And you don’t have too, but Yoonbin and I? It’s just never going to happen or work out,”

“You said that last time and you guys got back together,”

“Junkyu shut up, we don’t talk about that,”

He stayed silent as we walked him together. I knew Junkyu wanted to say something but he knew better.

“...”

“Just why did you break up with him again,” He asked. “I just didn’t deserve him, okay. He deserves someone better. Also, school was coming up and I couldn't do long distance,”

“Did you like him even though you broke up with him…”

“Yeah…”

“You coward,” He frowned.

“That’s me,” I laughed.

“Just stay with him,”

“Kyu, it’s too late,”

“You’re only saying that because you’re scared,”

“It doesn’t matter, I can’t,”

He heavily sighed and looked at me and gave me a hug.

“I wish you would stop…”

“I wish I could too,”

After that, I arrived home and went to my bed and laid down and drowned myself into tears as usual.

*Ha Yoonbin. My freshman year crush… I broke his heart freshman year because I was scared dating, strike 1. After that, we only became friends. In junior year he cut me off because of my toxic previous boyfriend. Senior year came around and I was no longer with the toxic ex, he started to talk to me again, evidently we got closer and I was falling for him again, we dated but only for two weeks. I broke up with him because I was traumatized of dating, strike 2. Five months passed and we tried again… we lasted for four months and then I broke up with him again, strike 3. Three strikes and i’m out, I broke his heart three times. Did I really deserve him? My answer was always no, but my heart yearned for a yes instead.*

After hours later of non-stop crying, I felt a bit better (not really). All of a sudden my phone vibrated and there was a message from Kyu.

Tears were rushing out of my eyes again. Fuck, why does he miss me, why does he care? He should just hate me. I don’t get it, I don’t deserve you. I never will. I’m sorry.

1 week later

I wasn’t going to lie, what Kyu told me, it fucked me over so bad. It would occur in my thoughts everyday, but I would just try to continue my day. This weekend Junkyu invited me to go see him and Yedam’s performance at the talent show. I agreed to go because I wanted to support them, but I realized there would be a chance Yoonbin would be there. My anxiety level raised, but I did promise them i would be there.

DAY OF THE SHOW.  

It was 6PM and I arrived at the show, the stress and anxiety came and attacked me, my heart was pounding like crazy. There were so many people in the room it made me feel anxious. I found a seat and took a seat. As I sat there I was shaking, being around people did not make me feel good, not only that I was on the radar for Yoonbin, my eyes searched for him but yet my heart couldn’t and wouldn’t bare to face him. The show started and I sat there watching the show, the show helped eased my anxiety and thoughts. As I sat there hearing people sing and rap, finally it was Junkyu and Yedam’s turn singing! They chose to sing the song “Last Dance” By Big Bang. There was another guy, I think his name was Jeongwoo? He sang with them also, but in the end all three of them sang well and did an amazing job. Their performance had ended and many people clapped for them, they bowed their heads and walked off stage. I was happy for them, afterall, they did an amazing job. I was filled with joy and at this point, and I was excited for the next stage performance, but all of those emotions went down the drain as soon as I saw Yoonbin walking on the stage getting ready to perform. I wanted to get up and walk out that door, but I couldn’t feel my legs, they were numb, and I was shaking in fear.

Yoonbin got on stage with Yeongue and they sang, “Woo-Ah” by Crush. I sat there, looking at him and without a doubt he saw me sitting there, I know because we made eye-contact. He did good, I wasn’t going to lie. I wanted to run up and hug him and such but I knew better. His performance ended, and I was overwhelmed with so many emotions, but honestly I just wanted to cry. It hurts so much, I got up and ran out of the building and sat down by the fields. I sat there crying feeling the cold wind breeze brush against me.

All of a sudden I felt a jacket on me, I looked up and saw it was Ha Yoonbin, the least person I wanted to see and be comforted by.

“It’s cold out, why are you crying?”

“Just needed some air,” I sniffed.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“No, I don’t think I will be, but it’s fine,” I smiled.

“Listen, just because we broke up that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you,”

“You should hate me,”

“Well, I don’t”

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“I can’t leave someone I love outside here,”

My heart flinched in pain

“Stop, you don’t love me,”

“Of course I do. What are you saying, for fuck sakes (Y/N). I fucking love you, even if man you fucked me over three times. I still love you. It’s you, you’re the one,”

“Yoonbin, I’m a coward. I don’t know how you can say that. I’ve hurt you too many times for you to even love me and forgive me. Why?”

“If i’m honest, I don’t think I deserve you. You’re so strong, I know why you did those things, I know you were just trying to protect yourself and me. I know you’re trying put me before yourself for everything. I don’t deserve you,”

“That’s ridiculous,”

“Please answer my question,”

Don’t run away coward

“What is it?”

“Do you… still love me…?”

Answer him truthfully

I sighed heavily.

“Yes,” I sighed.

There I was again sighing and crying my life away like it was nothing.

He pulled me in for a hug but I pushed him back, he looked at me and it looked like he was hurt by my actions.

“I don’t get you, why are you doing this?” He asked.

“You don’t have to, but I’m not the one,”

“What do you mean? I love you, and you love me, so why are you acting like this. Can we please just stop,” He begged.

“Because it just won’t work out,”

“YOU’RE NOT TRYING TO MAKE IT WORK,” He yelled.

I flinched as he yelled at me with his loud angry voice.

“Don’t raise your voice at me, you know it won’t work out,”

“(Y/N), you’re not trying. All you do is run away and give excuses for you and me, mostly importantly US,”

“NO YOONBIN, IT JUST WON’T WORK OUT,”

“STOP SAYING THAT. STOP SAYING IT WON’T WORK OUT, WE HAVEN’T EVEN TRIED YET,”

“ I DON’T WANT TO TRY, BECAUSE IN THE END WE’LL BOTH GET HURT,”

He started to cry.

“Aren’t you being too much? Don’t you think this is suffocating for the both of us? (Y/N), I’m trying to reach out to you. How many times do I have to tell you. I love you, I just want to be with you. I just fucking miss you,” He cried.

I sat there looking at him and tears were forming. I’m selfish, heartless, the worst human being, what kind of person deserves to be loved by someone after ruining them and making them cry. Not me. He pulled me in and hugged me tightly, I tried retaliating but he overpowered me.

“Please give us one more go, give us one more chance. I promise I will fight for us and I won’t let you go,” He said.

“Yoonbin, I can’t. We can’t. I just-“ I cried.

“You just what? We can’t what? We can’t be together? Why do you act like it’s sin for us to be together?”

Because it is.

“I’m not the one,” I replied.

“You can’t decide and think for me on that (Y/N), I get to decide on that. If I’m telling you that you’re the one and I want to love you then its the truth. I don’t say these things for no reason. Let alone, I didn’t come out here to chase you for no reason. I want to be with you,”

I gave in to his hug and wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly as I sobbed and made ugly noises.

I was a coward, but he still loved me anyways.

[yeunbins]

what about a bullet about breaking up with yoonbin or jihoon

p.s i’ll be doing this request first then the apocalypse!au request since its finals week so im kinda busy so lets obtain this grain

breaking up w yoonbin:

it all happened so fast

to think of it, it was neither of the two of you who caused it to happen

he was busy being a trainee and you just missed him so much

‘maybe he was stressed and got caught up in the moment’ was all you thought about

or ‘maybe he doesn’t love me anymore’

those thoughts kept you you up at night till this day

of course it had to happen inside your apartment where your memories with yoonbin lingered

you noticed he grew,, distant over the past month

barely talking about anything

his kisses felt,,, empty?? emotionless??

his main reason on why he comes over so late is that he got caught up in practice

which you thought was a lie since,, junkyu posts on his secret sns account literally every second of the day

and due to your frustrations with everything, you decided to ask him abt his whereabouts

and he blew up

he started accusing you that you didn’t trust him enough

“why are you so goddamn paranoid?!”

“i just fucking miss you. is it wrong to miss my fucking boyfriend?!”

“can’t you fucking see i’m busy?!”

“yeah but does it hurt just to check in every once in a while?! that’s all i fucking asked”

“well maybe we should just break up!”

and thats when your world, shut down

his own words surprised him too

he didn’t mean it

but the damage was done

you quietly escaped the living room where it all happened

and went inside your room, locking the door

embarrassed with himself, he decides to not show his face to you ever again

even if it pains him to realize that his daily routine would be switching up real soon

the end

breaking up w jihoon

you guys were the typical high school lovers that EVERYONE knew

jihoon was the sporty, all rounder dude that everyone is friends with

and you were also the person everyone was friends with and one of the school top notchers

it was no shocker to everyone that you two ended up together

i mean, y’all were perfect and shit

you two were two puzzles who made each other complete

visibly, you and jihoon grew together

you two helped one another and it was such a cute and #relationshipgoals kind of relationship

though, all good things come to an end

it SHOCKED everybody that you two broke up

so suddenly

it was end of senior year where everyone was busy applying to college and getting their lives together

at one point someone noticed that jihoon barely pick you up after class

or y’all dont come to the library after school to study

or y’all interacting at all

and thus, gossips came around like how jihoon cheated on you or you couldn’t take how he had so many girl friends and yeah

but nope

you two denied every rumor there was

the main reason you two broke up was because of college

and the long distance

jihoon knew you are going places

and so is he

you remember the time you found out you got accepted to your dream college

but you didn’t tell jihoon

jihoon got a scholarship too but he told you right away

it was your mom who broke the news to him that you got accepted to your dream school

lets just say, that date night didn’t end up well

you two were screaming your heads off

“why didn’t you tell me?” - jihoon

“i was–“

“when? when you’re leaving the next day? is that how you wanted it to happen?” - hoon

“jihoon.. it isn’t like that...”

“then what is it?”

and things turned into the worse

you two decided you two should just break it off for the best

you couldn’t handle long distance and neither did he

you two promised to remain as close friends tho

but it surely wasn’t happening anytime soon

[moon-writers]

Love Story

Characters: Kanemoto Yoshinori x Y/n

Genre: angsty, romance

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

     The rain was pouring outside.

     We’ve been sitting here, in this café, across from each other for almost an hour now.

     Just sitting and no talking as if each of us knew what was coming next.

     I took another sip from drink before setting the cup down on the glass table that acted as the distance between us.

     “Yoshi.”

     I called out his name. He looked up. For the last time, I searched his eyes for any guilt or sadness, but there was none. I gave up. It was not like I’ve ever knew his true intentions anyway after these past two years.

     I bit at my lips, not wanting to say it.

     I was tempted to just smile and act as if nothing ever happened. I wanted to just smile and ask him about his day just like what I usually did on our little dates. I just wanted to pretend that we are okay, but…

     …I knew we were not.

     So I said it.

     “Let’s break up.”

     I said it. I could hear my heart shattered into pieces, but what about his?

     Again, I searched his eyes, but it only hurt me more when he just stared at me blankly.

    “I don’t think it’s working out for us. I don’t even understand you after all these years.”

    I said, now looking everywhere, but him.

    “I feel like I was the only one who tried to make it work…and I’m getting tired.”

    I let it out. I drew in a breath so I could help back my tears that were threatening to fall.

    For a while, he said nothing and just stared at his hand.

    At the moment, I was praying desperately that he would just reached out and took my hands in his, and tell me to stay.

    How silly. I know.

    “Sure. If that is what you want, then okay.”

    Yoshi said. His eyes were still soulless and emotionless. Every second under that gaze broke my heart even more.

    “Your stuffs, I’ll send it back tomorrow-”

    “No need. Just throw it away.”

    He cut me off.

    How easy it was for him to say that.

    To just throw away everything about us.

    It was never real to begin with, I guess.

    After all these time, I’ve always looked at you.

    I was the one that tried to push us through.

    We were a love story,

    But I was the only one to love.

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

I really hope that you like it and do feel free to drop any comment, suggestions, or even requests, it you want.

Also, if by chance, there are any similar works to this fanfiction, HIGH FIVE! We must be sharing the same braincells...XD

Last of all, THANK YOU!

PS. Do check out my other work as well!!!

[treasurestation]

Jihoon is more than just your best friend's older brother —

You & Jihoon through the years.

Age 6 —

Your knees ground into the sandlot, fingers digging into the grit of the sand. Palms cup, it feels like like velvet on your skin, delicious and empty. You pour it into a bucket, letting it overflow before patting it down gently.

You shift, knees harshly rubbing on the sand. Stinging on your kneecaps.

“I don't really like sand,” A voice says, strange. You don't turn, a swift nod of your head and it continues. Still strange, she tells you, stumbling over words, “I like snow, um, it feels cool, I– I like the cold, I like how it looks too! Bright and um, –”

You tilt your head to the side, shyly. Palms moving over your thighs, sweat forming at the top of your brow, “I, I like snow too,” It's quiet after you tell her that. It's quiet, long enough for you to burn up under the sunlight, stiffen on your legs. Then the crunch of shoes above sand, she kneels in front of you.

A smile, “Really? That's super cool!”

She gestures towards the pail, her hand opened. You nod, uneased. She turns the pail over, her open palm patting at the bottom of it. She looks to you again, smiling even brighter. Her hands move to the rounded sides, lifting up.

The sand stands, before it plummets. Crumbling. Crusty and dry.

It makes you laugh, the way her bottom lip juts out. It's childish, your eyes crinkle. And she's smiling again, but this time you're smiling too, “Maybe we need some water, this–” Her hands gesture to the crumbled sand, “is far too dry,”

You nod, moving to stand. Dusting the sand off of your knees. You stretch your hand out, opened, inviting. It's hopeful.

“I'm [named],” Timid, your pull away quick, eyes searching her face. She smiles, “I'm Youngji,” She holds out her hand, “Want to see my sticker collection? It's pretty cool! I bet, you'd like it!”

You take her palm, your skin sticks to hers.

She's smiling, it makes you wonder if her cheeks are sore. But it makes you smile too. “I just started today, it's real hard making friends, but then!” She holds up one finger, her grip on your hand tightening, “I talked to you! We can be friends now, right? I hope so! I like making friends, we're friends now. I think, I hope?” Her voice is louder now, more confident, more boyant.

You nod, cheeks reddening. You squeeze her hand, “we can be friends...”

Wind blows, and she stares at you, eyes bright. “We'll be the bestest friends!” Your heart swells, it fills. Overflowing, you nod, eyes turning, lips pulling. The bestest friends.

—

It's late, after school. The setting sun shines in through the windows of the entrance. Youngji sits beside you, showing you her collection of stickers. Doraemon, and it makes you feel small beside her, when she shows you her newest addition to her collection.

“Um... My momma doesn't have enough for that one yet,” or the other ones too. You tell her, Youngji nods, comfort in her shoulder when she presses into yours. “It's okay, I save up, I try too at least– money goes fast! Especially for those things,” you smile, head tilting curiously, you point to one of the bigger stickers, “did you buy this on your own?” she shakes her head, looking to you, “um... Well, my brother brought it, but he gave it to me, I wanted to buy it on my own but he said I could have it!” You smile, nodding along.

The entrance door opens, cracking slightly. You and Youngji look, heads turning. “Hey,” She says, her voice getting bored at the sight of a boy. “[name]... this is Jihoon, Jihoon... Is, well, he's a boy who lives in my house, we're not related, I swear!” Youngji is gathering her things, her sticker collection and summer hat, putting them in her backpack gently. “Ok. So tomorrow, you'll wait for me right? By the gates? Or would you rather–” Jihoon's voice cuts hers off, “Mom's waiting,” she grunts, “Um. I was talking.” She looks to him, her eyes rolling.

Your face reddens. Hands tightening at the hem of your shirt, you stare at the slope of his nose. “I– I– I– um...” You stutter. “[name], we don't talk to boys, remember?” Youngji is sighing, “boys don't have Doraemon stickers like me,” Jihoon smiles, it's forced. It makes your stomach drop. “I– hi... Um... I'm– my name is, [name],” His eyes turn to Youngji, leaving you.

“Wait for me, tomorrow, OK? I'll wear this hat again so you can see me OK? Oh, and I'll bring us lunch, cool?” You turn to her, cheeks reddening even more. She'll pointing to her hat, bright yellow. “L– lunch? Okay! I'll, um, wait!” She already walking away, her body still turned to you as she walks backward. “Bye, my best friend.” Jihoon waves, and then they're gone.

Suddenly you can breathe. Like you were holding your breath. Jihoon Jihoon Jihoon — his name repeats itself in your head, and you think, is this what love is?

—

Your mom is cutting sweet potatoes at the table when you ask her.

“Momma,” Her hum is soft, like the rain that patters at the window that evening. You sit across from her, the wooden chair creaking when you sit on it. “Um...” Your forefingers press together, you fidget. “What is, what is love? You know, like real love...” It's quiet for a moment, before she laughs, asking, “May I ask why?~” You sigh, shoulders dropping. “Well. I met someone. Today, before you came to get me at school. It was a boy. And it's Youngji's brother. You remember her, right?” She nods, placing her knife on the cutting board. “Of course, you told me about her.” You smile, “I met her brother. And I was just, wondering. What love was, you know?” You become nervous under her stare despite the tenderness in them.

“I... I think love is, complex,” She says, you stop her, growing shy, “momma... I don't know that word yet...” Warmth comes from her when her hand reaches for yours across the table, “Difficult?” You nod, you know that one. “It's, a strong feeling toward someone, I guess.”

“Um. What if... Is it, like not being able to breathe?” Your head is downcast, eyes unable to meet hers. “It can be, baby. Was he breathtaking?” You shake your head quickly, “Wha– I, I don't know! He was... He was weird! Like he, he...”

She laughs, it comes out in shakes. Her body shakes, and it makes you giggle, when she throws her head back, mouth opening. “I don't know, momma.”

“Love is whatever you want it to be baby~” There is teasing in her voice, but her fingers roll over your knuckles, skin moving over bones, and it settles the churn in your gut.

You decide Jihoon is breathtaking that evening at supper.

When your father is fixing your bed, you linger behind him. “Dad, for lunch tomorrow, can you make me something good, and pretty? And can you buy me strawberry milk? Two?” He stills, a smile on his face when he turns. He nods, “Sure thing,” it makes you smile, legs moving closer toward him, “but first, you need to get rest, okay? And lots of it! So, you can be happy and healthy tomorrow,” you nod, head bouncing, kneeling into your bed. Your father moving the blankets to tuck you in.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, a shout of your mother's name, and the soft creak of her steps on wood. She's there when your father stands, she kneels. “Dream of me, okay?” You nod, teeth showing. Your gut warms, love growing in your heart, gripping at you. “Obviously,” She presses a kiss to your cheek, your father turns the lights off. Moonlight seeping in through translucent curtains. “Goodnight, my baby~” She stands, moving backwards, stepping into your father's hands.

You dream of Youngji and her brother. The thought of him still lingers.

When your father walks you to school, he tells you about the sky – the rising sun and the infinite blue that swallows everything – you listen, staring at the clouds. “It'll rain today, so I'll bring an umbrella for us, okay? Do you want your raincoat?” He asks, voice warm. “Yes, papa,” He squeezes your hand.

As you near your school, “Um, papa? Can we wait at the entrance? I told a friend I would!”

He stills, “only for a bit...” Then he continues, talking about the sky. When he quiets, you begin talking, about school, about what he talks about, about what your mother talks about. Until arguing grows louder, as well as Youngji's voice.

She sounds annoyed, and she looks hurt when you see her. Her hat is still bright, despite the grim look on her face. Your gut twists when you see her brother trailing after her. She's quick when she sees you. Her pace quickening, and when she's close enough, she grips your arm, “you actually waited, thank goodness! You see what I have to deal with?” Her chin lifts to point at Jihoon.

Your breathe is snatched from you. “I– I didn't know you were coming, I–” you're grip on your father's hand tightens. Youngji gives you a funny look, one that goes unnoticed by you as you stare at her brother. Stop staring! He'll think you're– “Hon, I have to go...” Your father kneels, pulling at your hand. He pats your head when you stare hard at his chest. “Hey, don't look like that, you'll get wrinkles,” his thumb moves over your forehead, the creases in your skin, smoothing over. Skin tightening. “I packed your lunch like you said, and this~” He stands suddenly, arms opening, his hand gone from yours. “Youngji!” She smiles, head bobbing up and down. “Nice to meet you, [name] talkes about you all the time~ now... I really have to go,” He says, exaggerating. “Bye mister!” Youngji's waving, her arm hooking in yours.

You stare after him, feeling small. He turns to wave, and you wave bye.

“He... He's nice,” You say, Youngji hums. Before she sighs, “Bye, Jihoon. Have fun at boring middle school!” She's pulling you away, and you keep turning back to stare at him. Hand lifting up, waving. Eyes settling on the curve of his mouth, it lifts.

Jihoon smiles. And you suddenly can't breathe again. Your heart grips at you.

When lunch rolls again, Youngji is squealing. Loud among chatter. “Youngji...” It's threatening, but not enough to stop her from grabbing your arm and dragging you away.

“So! I don't know what you like... Yet! But I asked my mom to help pack things for us, OK? Yummy things!” She's quick on her feet, shifting through bodies, shoulders colliding. You mumble out apologies, head down, face red.

When you near her locker, she changes her shoes quickly, telling you you'll be eating outside. “It's going to rain today,” You say, eyes catching hers. She nods, “I know, but that's later, like after school later.” Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape.

“Let's change your shoes now, which locker is yours?” She questions, voice thick with curiousity. You begin walking. It isn't far from hers, five lockers away.

She tells you it might be fate, you insist it's pure luck.

The grass is green, and cherry blossoms bloom in the schoolyard. It's empty despite the warm weather.

Youngji is shrugging her bag off. Unzipping it while she walks. You look for a nice place to sit. Deciding on a bench near a cherry blossom tree. “Great eye!” She compliments, sweet.

When you sit, she places a small container between you both. A pink lid is peeled off, Gyeran mari is sliced neatly, four slices. She places another container, a purple lid is peeled off again, this time with fruits. White peaches and strawberries – cream atop the strawberries.

“I... I wanted it to be pretty! I even helped make it!” She's smiling, all teeth. You nod, smiling back. Brighter.

“I asked my dad to buy us strawberry milk! I'll show you my lunch now,” You tell her, heartbeating faster. You redden, embarrassment washing over you.

You unzip your backpack, pulling a lunch bag out, your hands grabbing a container from it, fingers pulling the lid off before you place it beside hers. An egg over rice. She ‘ooh’s softly, mouth forming an ‘O’ shape. You bag another container, smaller. Apple slices are there. You then grab the strawberry milk from your bag.

“Tada! A dinner between best friends,” She says, brows rising. “Lunch,” You correct, handing her a strawberry milk. A grin smearing on your face.

Her face falls a bit, it stirs something in your gut. Unease settling in your bones.

“Um... Are, are you okay? I know it's not much but–” You begin before being interrupted. She's staring at you – through you, licking her lips before saying, “I've never really had a best friend, I hope we can be best friends forever.” A moment passes.

“Let's... Let's be best friends forever then.” You hold out your pinky, a smile on your face. “Promise?”

Youngji smiles, her teeth showing, she grips your pinky with hers. Holding on tight. “Promise!”

—

Age 10 –

(You follow Youngji to middle school, holding her hand along the way, whispering in her ear – she's still your best friend when you both drift in different directions.)

“Guess whoo~” She says teasingly. Her hands covering your eyes. You giggle, grabbing one of her wrists, “Oh, I don't know. Maybe, Youngji?” You say, pulling her hand away. You twist, turning to face her in your desk. “Wow! So good!” She smiles, teeth and all. Youngji leans against the desk behind you, her knees pressing into the back of your chair.

“So! My parents...” She trails off, sucking in air through her teeth. “You know how I'm always like ‘you're my best friend, yeah yeah’?” You hum, staring at the nervous expression on her face, “Do you... Maybe... I don't know, want to sleep over?” She asks, her eyes brightening up. “You can meet my parents! They're always like, ‘bring her over, come one, Youngji-yah!’” She clasps her hands together, smiling at you.

“Okay. This weekend?” You ask, head tilting.

She nods, she thrusts her fist in the air, a yay leaving her lips. “Oh my god, our first sleepover! What! This has got to be perfect, I'll make it the best sleepover, I promise!” She's leaving the classroom before you can reply, the door sliding open as she rushes away. You smile after her.

(Jihoon makes your heart full. Overripe in your chest. Fresh and plump, fruit hanging in your ribcage, your heart is achingly sweet.

You see him in the halls, face reddening when his mouth lifts, mouth curving. You don't say anything, he doesn't either, but when you catch his stare, you know – his heart is full too.)

She walks home with you on Friday for the first time, Jihoon trailing after you both, a friend of his tucked by his shoulder — they're loud, voices lingering in your ears.

You grip your handle bars too tight, knuckles bone-white.

“You live in the city side? Lucky~ I live by the lake,” She tells you, whining a bit. She stops, suddenly. “Do you want me to carry that?” She asks, pointing to your bike. You shake your head a bit, “No! No! It's okay–” You redden at her stare, now you're all stopped in the middle of an empty street. “Here,” Jihoon's voice says, smooth in the wind.

He's beside you now, eyes turning, mouth curled.

His hands cover yours over the bike handles, you stare at him, seeing him – your heart plummets, you think he knows, and he does, fingers tightening over yours before you pull away, slipping away from under his.

“I– thank... Thank you.” His chin lifts, he nods. He's walking away, his friend trailing after.

It's silent the walk home, but you can't help stare at the back of his head. Your heart is fresh fruit, hanging in your ribcage, Jihoon's hands pulling it open. Fingers wrapping around your heart – he eats, he knows.

“Mom...” You whine. Hands moving all over, you trail after her in a rush, through the kitchen, to the livingroom, to the door. “Please... They're just waiting for me, I will be gone soon, mom!... Hey don't show them that!” She's showing them a photo album, her hands ushering them to follow her, and they do. Smiling at you when they pass you. You groan, your father's hand landing on your shoulder. He tells you, “let her enjoy for a bit, you hardly bring people over,” You nod.

“Oh! Honey! Make tea, or juice? Would you like anything?” Her hands clasp together loudly, she's smiling, her cheeks red. “I... I'll go get my stuff, you, um, you can wait here, okay?” Your head tilts, your stiff when you walk up the stairs. Mumbling about how your mother never acts like that when your father brings friends over.

When you enter your room, you try to be quick. Folding your clothes neatly, and then stuffing them in a bag.

A knock interrupts you, you turn. Eyes widening at Jihoon. “Hey, I don't know where the bathroom is,” He says, eyes staring at anything but you. He's rubbing his neck, “It... It's down the wall, you have to be careful though. The door gets jammed sometimes.” Your hands subsciously pull together, fingers tightening around one another. You smile, nodding.

He looks to you, catching your eye. Smiling too. Then it's gone. He doesn't move, then he opens his mouth, moving then closing. It becomes tense, and he looks pained. Your smile is gone now, taking a step forward, “Are... Are you okay?”

He stares at you, before closing his eyes. Shut tight, “You can't like me,” He says. It's a demand. The room stills. Quiet. Still. Unmoving. He shakes his head, before stalking off. The bathroom door shuts with a thud.

Something stirs in you, “Oh...” You utter, the quiet becoming unbearable. And the stirring in your gut leaves you uneased, you feel your heart drop. You want to sink into the floor.

(You still sleep over at Youngji's house, you pretend you don't notice Jihoon's stares. You pretend he didn't say what he said.)

—

Age 13 –

Jihoon joins the basketball team, and when Valentine's day rolls around. Love notes and chocolates pail up on top of his desk.

(You don't talk to him much; when you stay over at Youngji's house, he leaves. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, ripping your heart and taking it with him – “Love is whatever you want it to be,” you decide whatever love you have for Jihoon isn't love.)

“I wonder if I'll get any Valentines...” Youngji thinks out loud, stopping in front lf you when she gets closer to you at the school gates. “You will, I'll make sure of it,” You say, arm locking with hers. She smiles, fingers tightening on your coat.

“BTW. I heard a rumor~” She teases, finger poking your cheek. You sigh, “I told you not to use abbreviations outside of text, it doesn't sound right to me, I swear I will–” You glare, voice going hard. “It's about you, actually!” Youngji interrupts, her eyes sparkling. “Oh... Is, is it mean? I don't like when people are mean to me, you know I can't handle–” She laughs, ringing throughout the schoolyard. She stops, leaning close to you, her hand covering her and mouth when she whispers to you, “Yongshik from class A has a crush on you~” she pulls away with a grin on her face. You redden. “Like... Oh, um – like as a joke?” You question.

She pulls toward the school doors, a girl holding it open for you both, you mumble a thanks and she says, “thank you so much.”

You have to think about it, because it doesn't feel right. “I don't know who Yongshik though...” You mumble. Youngji smiles pitifully before a genuine one appears. “Hey, listen. You don't have to accept his feelings. It's okay to reject someone,” It sounds sweet, a little unlike her then she adds. “Better to be the rejecter then to be the rejectee!”

You glare at her, “Cute, Youngji.” You say. She quickly says she has to be early for class, she tugs you into her arms, squeezing tightly before she runs off.

You make a beeline for your locker, ignoring the eyes that seem to follow you. When you near it, a boy stands there. His face brightening up at you, hand opening to wave at you. It makes you still, you wave back awkwardly. You walk slower, until you stand in front of him.

He smiles, and something about his smile makes you feel uneased, like he can see you, through you, like Jihoon – but not really. Jihoon's eyes are starbursts, shining. Glowing. Vast – “Hello, I– I have something to tell you,” He says, and you can feel eyes on your back again. You nod, a feeling of excitement begins to stir in your gut and you don't like it, your heart picks up. He pulls out a letter from the pocket of his uniform jacket, he hands it to you. You make sure to grab the edge of it, avoiding his fingers.

“Thank –” You're interrupted when an arm wraps around your shoulder, tucking you under their side. Your eyes dart to them, and you're surprised it's Jihoon, his smile is different – almost too sweet, sickly sweet. It oozes something you don't recognize.

“Hey, [name], been lookin' everywhere for you,” He says, facing you. You redden under his eyes, mumbling, “I just got here...”

You forget about the boy, and find yourself boiling over, your stomach erupting.

“Um... You'll read it, right?” The boy says, and you jump before nodding quickly, “Of course!” You smile at him and it falls once he leaves, walking to a group of his friends, they clasp their hands on his shoulders.

“Why'd you do that? He might have needed help with homework or something,” You say naively, shrugging his arm off. “Or he could have a crush on you~” He sings softly, going to lean on the locker beside yours. He stares at you, a smile ghosting on his face. “Also, I seriously doubt he'd need help with homework, he's one of the top students.” You ‘ah’ at him, he still stares at you. “Stop staring, it's... It's making me nervous...” You murmur, quiet enough for only him to hear. He leans closer to you, Jihoon smiles, “Nervous, huh? I know I'm too charming,” He teases, brows raising. You glare, but his smile makes you hide yours. He continues, “I get nervous too, when I wall passed a mirror, I always have to stop and stare,” You sigh, face heating up, “Jihoon,” You begin, daringly, “don't get ahead of yourself,” he raises his hands.

The bell rings, shutting your locker, books in your hand, Jihoon takes them from you, “let me walk the reddest girl to class,” it doesn't make sense, but it makes you redden even more. “I, what– wait... Am I really that red?”

(You read the letter from the boy, his name is Yongshik, and he thinks you're smart and pretty and he wants to get to know you – you politely decline, telling him you like someone else. Yongshik's sweet smile is gone when you leave, and he glares at Jihoon.)

Age 14 —

Jihoon's graduation is exactly how he wanted it – quick paced and undemanding. He insists you come –

(You and Jihoon spend more time together than you should have; he tells you we're friends now and yet you can't help but feel like there's something more to your friendship – there is; Jihoon laughs in your ear, quiet, hushed. Only for you to hear. He lets his arm linger over your arm when Youngji runs off to class, leaning too close to you. And whenever – completely by chance, not by him whining to sit beside you – you sit beside him at lunch, he knocks his knee against yours, and leans too close and talks to you, like you're the only there. But still. Jihoon insists you're friends.)

When it's over. He drags you away, – “Stealing me away when no one's looking, clever.” “Please, just... Bear with me.” – his fingers tug at your wrist.

You're led to a bench by the school gates. Where he places his hands on your shoulders and pushes you to sit while he paces. People yell their goodbyes at him, and he waves goodbye back to each one.

“Jihoon, I wanted to ask you something–” Your hands folds over your lap, fingers playing with the hem of your uniform skirt. “Um... Who, who did you give your second button to? I know it's none of my–” He stills, and then his grabbing one of your hands, placing the button in your open palm before he closes it.

And it's quiet, a long deafening silence.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and your eyes widen, face flushing. “Like, as friends?” You ask innocently. And he stammers, “What? No– like, as more than friends. Like in the movies, romance, you know?”

“It...” You trail off. Your heart is beating, overgrowing in your chest, too ripe, too soft. “It's okay.”

When he sits beside you, you don't know what to do. You stiffen, and he places a hand on your hand, rubbing gently.

He places a hand over your closed fist, the one with the button. You face him, and this is the closest you've been to him, probably. You unstiffen when he smiles, fond.

He tells you to close your eyes, and you do. Feeling his warm breath over your face, before soft lips press to yours.

It takes your breath away. The air in your lungs lets out through your nose, and it feels like a secret. The kiss is barely there, light on your lips. But it impacts you so much.

When he pulls away and you open your eyes, he's smiling fondly.

“I still remember when you told me not to like you,” You say, and he groans, leaning back. “Don't remember me.” His hand stays over yours, and you place your free hand over his.

You redden. Ribcage open, fruit heart hanging, ripe.

“What... What does this mean? I mean, you're graduating and I'm... I'm not. Not yet.”

“It means, you'll have to come over often,” He tells you, shifting closer to you. You nod, “I'll visit over, Jihoon, so take care of me~”

(Neither you or Jihoon tell Youngji. A part of you falls apart slowly when she asks if you like anyone, you lie. About Jihoon. About everything.)

—

Age 15 –

When you get to high school, you drift from Youngji and grow closer to Jihoon. But she remains a constant; hooking her arm in yours, and pulling you in close.

When you get to high school, you and Jihoon navigate your relationship in gaps of everyone's eyes, where no one can see – he insists it's because you're new to dating, you think of his sister and tell him you're scared of being hated; he doesn't understand.

(He corners you, drags you somewhere eyes won't see – “Are you getting prettied each day?” “... You need glasses.” “You better be joking, [name]!” – presses his hands on your shoulders, holding on like bicycle handles, before his hands run down your arms, meeting your hands, filling the gaps of your fingers with his – “We're like puzzle pieces,” he'd say, through teeth and lips, mumbling, you'd look somewhere else – he stands close, staring at you – “Sometimes I think we're meant to be,” It'd go silent, something will raise over you, you'd open your mouth, moving, but nothing. “Was that too much?” He'd ask, and you'd squeeze his hand, shaking your head – when he kisses you, it's just a press of lips, soft, tender. Barely there. Like a secret, and it's you and Jihoon's secret – “I think we should tell people now... I want to, I hope you understand.” You do. “... Okay. We'll do it.”)

When you get to high school, you and Youngji are the type of friends who never get mad at one another – you were.

(“Hey, Youngji? Can I ask you something...?” You ask, quiet in her room. It's dark, cold. Her feet are on yours, tangled. Her body pressed close for warmth. “Sure, go for it,” Youngji's voice is quiet too, full of something nice. Sweet. “What... What would you say if I were dating someone? Someone you know... Someone close...?” You ask, turning to watch her face. The way it lights up understand the screen of her phone. She gets up quick, turning full at you. “Are you dating someone?!” It echoes in her room, and you're sure it echoes everywhere in her house. “I– I, I am. But you have to promise me you won't get mad, okay?” You hold out your pinky, waiting for her. She's quick to lock it with hers. “Tell me!” She smiles, right at you. “It's... It's Jihoon.” And Then her smile is gone, slowly falling off her face. “My brother Jihoon? That Jihoon?” It's not exactly disgust, just a breath of something odium. You nod, and she pulls her hand away, “Why didn't you tell me?” She asks, and you can see the lines of anger growing on her face. “I... I don't know... We just started dating, and... And he thought it'd be better if we shouldn't,” you tell her, a feeling of guilt swimming in your gut. “Well, what did you think?” She asks, voice hard. “I... I didn't think,” You mumble, head hanging. “Of course you didn't.” She says. “Right.” You say, voice distant; you both go to sleep, backs turned away.)

You walk home with Jihoon that day, after listening to her yelling at him for not telling her, he doesn't yell back, telling her it was his fault – you think it's yours.

Youngji stops linking her arm in yours, and starts hanging out with another girl you both went to middle school with. You hold Jihoon's hand at school, and you feel like you can breath.

(“I'm sorry you and my sister are fighting...” He whispers in your hair, his body on his side, facing you. “I... We shouldn't have told anyone, it's my fault–” His hand is tightening in yours. “It's no one's fault, it was the right thing to do. We should have told people first, that we were together. You wanted people to know and that's okay.” You turn to face him, he sighs. “I... I know, I'm just sorry.” You and Jihoon begin to spend days at your house instead of his, a thick tension between his sister and him – and still, you think it's your fault.)

—

Age 16 –

(Jihoon has one unequivocal truth; he loves you).

“Our anniversary is coming up~” He says, it's lunch and you're studying. His fingers brushing your hair away from your face. You hum, “I know. You said you wanted us to do something,” He hums, moving closer to you, body pressing to your side. “I was thinking... Sky diving!” You look at him, “with what money? We're high school students, Jihoon.” He barks a laugh, quick, loud. “I was joking,” He says, and you hum softly, a sigh leaving your lips. “School's hard,” You whine. “How about, a date? Let me take you out.” It's serious. Because he's staring at you, face void of a smile, but his eyes shine bright, starbursts. “Don't we go on those all the time?” You question, head tilting. “Those aren't dates, we usually just stay in your room and talk,” You ‘oh’ softly, before you become shy, cheeks turning red.

“I've never been on a date.” You say, and it makes him smile. He nods. “Let me take you out.” He repeats, and you're heart flutters.

When your anniversary comes, you panic.

[Jihoon]: might b late, can u come over? sorry baby :(

[name]: its ok, don't worry ^^

“Ma!” You yell, pacing in your room. She busts in, looking panicked, “What did I tell you about yelling?... Honey, you look so pretty!” She's smiling, the lines on her face, fading when her cheeks lift. “It's not too much? Right?”

She walks to you, her hands cupping your cheeks. “You're beautiful,” It's sincere, making you smile too.

“Now go. Be home before 7, or I will come find you myself.”

When you got to his house, your father dropping you off. Youngji answers the door, an awkward silence between you both.

“Hi... Um, is... Is Jihoon here?” It's the first time you've talked to her since last year, and you feel strange under her stare. She nods, moving to let you in. “I'll go get him for you.” She begins to walk away, leaving you to stand awkwardly at the door, staring after her. She stops, abruptly. “Youlookpretty!” Before she's bolting away. You let out a confused noise.

You smile, a weight lifting off of your shoulders. You stare at your shoes, hands coming together at your chest. She comes back first, standing a distance away from you, you begin, “I'm sorry. I should have told you, I was naive, I didn't think–” then you're in her arms, she's squeezing tightly. “I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten so upset.”

You wrap your arms around her, “You don't have to be sorry, you were right to be upset. I should have told you,” She sighs, mumbling something.

“I think I always knew you liked him,” You laugh awkwardly, “was it that obvious?” you ask, and she pulls away, brows raised. “I think so!”

“I'm ready,” Jihoon says, biting the inside of his cheek after. Youngji hums, “Be home at 7!” She says to Jihoon, looking over her shoulder, her hands rubbing your arms, before she goes to open the door. “Have fun, okay?”

(That evening, Jihoon tells you he loves you. Your heart hangs open in your chest, growing ripe.)

Extra!

When you graduate, you move in with Jihoon. A small apartment in the city, he teasingly tell his friends his childhood sweetheart followed him to college. But it was Jihoon who followed you when you told him it was your first option at schools.

Jihoon is serious about your relationship. Despite never being with anyone else, he prays you never want to break up with him.

When arguments occur, he never you going to sleep upset at him. He apologizes first, – even if you're one in the wrong, you own up to your mistakes just as he does. You both always go to bed peaceful with one another.

Jihoon likes grocery shopping. He picking out foods, and trying out new things. If you don't like something, he remembers and tries to avoid it. Especially when his friends give him it for leftovers.

Jihoon is more domestic than he likes to admit, telling everyone you're the domestic one. by

[junkutie]

[8:23 pm] “can you please stop shouting,” yedam sighs loudly, closing his eyes out of frustration.

“seriously, it’s like you’re not even trying.” you mutter shaking your head. 

“of course i’m trying y/n.” he answers, his voice is bland, and his face shows no emotions whatsoever. 

“sure,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes, “because you sound super invested in this conversation right now.” 

the two of you have been arguing for about an hour now and if you’re being honest, you’re not sure if it’s going to end as well as your other arguments with yedam have ended. 

“i just can’t speak to you when you’re like this.” the boy grumbles as he pulls his fingers through his hair. 

“i’m trying to make this work yedam,” you cry out, motioning between the two of you with your hands as more salty tears running down your cheeks, “and you’re acting like you don’t care.” 

your boyfriend just stares at you with a facial expression you can’t read, his lack of response breaks your heart and you swallow hard to stop yourself from crying more. 

“do you care?” you whisper, not prepared for the answer you’re going to get. 

he just shrugs gently and you feel your entire body go numb, you nod your head and walk over to the dinning room table to pick up your bag. you walk out of the house with wet cheeks and a large sob racks through your body when yedam doesn’t try and stop you. 

[skzxuxi]

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