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fluverys · 1 month ago

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FRI(END)S — ꒰ 양정인 ꒱

── ✧ ˚. 𝓹airing ˒˓ yang jeongin x f!reader ˒˓ childhood friends to lovers 𝓰enre/𝓽ags. fluff, angst (not a lot, i hope..?), some profanity, kissing, i believe that’s it.. 𝔀ords. 3.8k

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — hello peeps, i’m back from the dead w a new fic that i’ve been working on for a while but i’m glad i finally finished it :D this is for my sweetheart @jeonginslittledoll, i hope you like it bestie <3

𝓼ong 𝓲nspo. fri(end)s by v

Jeongin doesn’t remember a time in his life when you weren’t there. Dating all the way back to kindergarten, you were in all his drawings— your pigtails lopsided and stick limbs holding his hand. He remembers how he’d always draw the sun in the corner and you’d insist on adding glitter stars even when it was supposed to be daytime. You shared your crayons with him without hesitation, even your special sparkly ones, which at five years old was basically the pinnacle of loyalty.

You were there the first time he cried over a scraped knee, when he wanted to show you this cool trick and ended up falling off his scooter. He tried not to let it show, but you saw anyway, gasping so dramatically he cried harder, until you kissed his knee and told him you had ‘magical healing powers’. He never once questioned it.

In third grade, he failed his math test for the first time. His hands were far too shaky to hand the paper to his mom, so he showed it to you first. You sat beside him on the swings, bumping shoulders, and told him you’d help him study, even if you both sucked at fractions.

When sixth grade rolled around, you were there to console him when a girl told him that she “just wanted to be friends.” He didn’t even like her that much, not really. But he still looked for you after class and said nothing when you handed him your last fruit roll-up and gave him a little nudge, a signal that meant “I’m here for you.” You didn’t bother with the clichés or telling him there were plenty of other fish in the sea. You just stayed. That in itself was enough for him.

He never got over how easy it was with you. How stupidly, infuriatingly safe he felt around you. Like all the worst parts of him didn’t matter because you already saw them and accepted him exactly for the way he was— choosing to remain by his side.

You knew him when his voice cracked, when he had braces, when he tried hair gel for the first time and looked like he’d dunked himself headfirst in a bucket of oil. You gave him a beanie and said, “we’re pretending this never happened.” He wore it every day for two months straight.

You were his first crush, too. Of course you were. He was eleven, you had the most god awful haircut, a gap in your front teeth, and you laughed so hard at his stupid Pokémon impressions that chocolate milk came shooting out of your nose.

He swore that day that he’d marry you.

And even though he was just a kid who barely understood the concept of love yet, some part of him must’ve already known— because every person he’s tried to love since then were miles behind you.

You were his first sleepover. The first person who saw him cry when his goldfish died. The only one who remembered the day his great grandfather passed and left a cupcake on his porch even though you had just came back from out of town.

He fell in love somewhere between then and now. Quietly. Foolishly. Permanently.

Maybe it was sophomore year of high school, when you made a Spotify playlist just for him called “for when your brain won’t shut up”, and every single song felt like a lifeline. Maybe it was that summer you got into a shouting match with a guy who tried to cut in front of Jeongin at the movies, even though the guy was like twice your stature. Or maybe it was during junior year of college, when he saw you at 2 am— bare-faced, exhausted, curled up in his hoodie on the couch, nodding off mid-sentence and realized there was no one else he’d rather listen to ramble about life and cereal brands until the end of time.

But you never knew a thing.

Because what kind of selfish asshole would risk twenty plus years of friendship just to say, I wanna kiss you so bad it hurts?

What kind of friend looks at the one constant in his life, the only person who’s witnessed all his bad days, all his awkward phases, all his heartbreaks, and confess that he wants something more?

So he kept it all in. Repressed every emotion until it was buried so deep underground that there’s no way you could possibly detect his true infatuation for you. Through the birthdays, family gatherings, and movie marathons, the way you’d unconsciously rest your head in the crevice of his shoulder during long car rides. Every sleepy voice note you’d sent to him when you couldn’t fall asleep, every text that ended with a heart or a “love you!” that he knew was platonic… but still made his chest tighten.

He learned to smile while watching you fall in and out of love with other people. Learned to perfect the role of the supportive best friend you’d never lose— at the expense of being the boy you’d never choose. Because that’s the thing about loving someone who’s always been there.

You’re too afraid of what might happen if they’re suddenly not.

“You think this looks okay?” You ask, finally stepping out after rummaging through half your wardrobe.

Jeongin glances up from the TikToks he was watching on his phone, sitting comfortably on your bed. He hears the faint rustle of fabric swishing around before he sees you, feet shifting nervously against the hardwood floor. You’re in a white babydoll dress, thin straps, low-cut neckline, the soft flowy hem brushing your thighs— for a second, he forgot how breathing works.

You’re so pretty, it kills him, only causing him more stress and inner turmoil from staring at you for so long. He wants to thank your parents for creating such a masterpiece. If this were a cartoon, his eyes would’ve been filled with nothing but hearts and practically jumping out from his sockets.

You strike a awkward pose. “Is it too much..?”

“No,” he croaks, throat instantly going dry. “You- you look great.”

You look like everything he’s ever wanted and never got to have.

He sees the way you pause, smoothing down any wrinkles on the garment, then scrunch up your nose like you’re not convinced. You do a little half-spin toward the mirror and Jeongin props himself up on his elbows, watching as you inspect yourself with furrowed brows.

You beam anyway. “I’m a kinda nervous. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve gone out on an actual date.”

Jeongin forces a stiff smile, straightening his posture, elbows now resting on his knees, hoping that his voice doesn’t give out on him. “You’ll be fine. Jake seems… like a decent guy.”

His voice dips ever so slightly on the word decent, but you don’t catch it. Of course you don’t.

You don’t notice how carefully he avoids eye contact. How he keeps wringing the hem of your throw pillow like it might save him from saying something reckless. You don’t see the way he keeps shifting on your bed like the mattress is made of nails.

You move towards the mirror of your vanity and start dabbing lip gloss on, tongue between your teeth like you always do when you’re concentrated. “You think he’ll like this lip color?”

Jeongin’s heart almost shatters. “Yeah,” he whispers. “He’s gonna love it.”

But he hates it. He hates all of this. Hates the way you hum a little tune to yourself while curling your lashes, the way your perfume already smells like a goodbye, and the way your phone lights up with Jake’s name and not his.

You suddenly groan, tossing the lip gloss onto your vanity that’s cluttered with a bunch of other products and dig through your makeup bag like it just insulted you.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” you laugh dryly, half out of fear and half out of excitement. “This one’s too pink, the other one makes me look like I’ve been kissed by a ghost, and I swear this eyeliner’s plotting violence against me—”

“You don’t need any of that,” Jeongin says quickly, before he can stop himself.

You blink, turning to him, lip gloss wand frozen midair. “What?”

He swallows. “I mean… you look fine. More than fine. You’re pretty without any of it.”

The room stills with a bitter silence and Jeongin panics.

“I-I’m just saying,” he stammers, scratching the back of his neck and glancing everywhere but at you, “if this guy can’t accept you for who you are, like, as is— then he’s not the one for you.”

You stare at him for a beat too long, then your gaze softens at his words, “…Jeongin.” Your lips tug upward, just barely.

He swears the way you say his name will be the death of him.

You look down at your feet, suddenly shy, your hand fluttering over your mouth as if the compliment just fully hit you. A rush of heat spreading across your cheeks.

“Thanks,” you mumble, eyes flicking up. “That was.. really sweet.”

Jeongin shrugs, trying not to combust. “Just being honest.”

You face to the mirror again, a little quieter now, a little more smiley and upbeat. Still touching up your mascara, still blissfully unaware that he’s sitting there on your bed, watching the love of his life get all dolled up to go fall for someone else.

Yet he stays, because there’s nothing else he can do.

Even when it hurts like hell.

The night feels like an itch under his skin.

Jeongin doesn’t go home, telling himself that he’s just “killing time” by driving around aimlessly like he always does when his thoughts get too loud. But somehow, he ends up parked outside the diner down the block from where your date is happening, pretending like he’s just “in the area” as if it’s some kind of coincidence.

The cars still running, headlights dimmed. He fumbles with the radio, trying to drown the silence with anything that doesn’t sound like his internal monologue going back and forth. But every damn station seems to be playing some kind of love song, sappy ballads or cheesy pop lyrics about holding hands and finding “the one”.

He switches the station again. Then again. And again.

No luck.

“You are the best thing… that’s ever been mine…”

He groans and smacks the power button. Back to silence, which is even worse, somehow.

His fingers twitch around his phone as he mindlessly scrolls through different apps, reading the same unfunny tweets, the same recycled memes, and the same dumb messages from the groupchat. Staring blankly at the screen until everything fades into nothingness.

Ultimately, he gives up. Tossing his phone into the passenger seat with a defeated sigh.

He’s now people watching through the windshield. Spotting a happy couple that’s walking as if nothing else exists around them, the girl’s giggling like some lovestruck teenager and clinging to her boyfriend’s arm like she’s been permanently glued to him. Another pair drinking a milkshake inside the restaurant booth next to the window, sharing a straw as they interlock hands. Some other guy pulls his girlfriend in by the waist outside the door and kisses her like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Jeongin exhales hard through his nose, balling his hands into a fist like he’s going to punch the air.

It’s like the universe was straight up mocking him at this point.

This is what it’s supposed to look like, right? The hand holding, the lingering glances, the closeness, the quiet knowing.

And he has that, with you. Just not in the way that counts.

Not in the way that lets him pull you close and kiss you in public. Not in the way that lets him say, God, I wish it were me instead of him.

There’s a constant ache in chest that settles behind his ribs, dull and relentless.

It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. You’re allowed to go on dates. You have free will to go like other people and fall in love without asking for his permission, but that doesn’t stop the nausea that keeps rising in the back of his throat like bile.

The sick pit in his stomach just won’t dissipate.

He even picks his phone back up and hovers his thumb over your name in his contacts. Just to... check in. See how it’s going, or maybe make up some fake excuse. ‘Hey, did you leave your charger in my car again?’ Anything to hear your voice, to make sure you’re safe. To remind you that he is the one who knows your favorite coffee order and your allergies and the way you always double tie your shoelaces out of habit.

But he doesn’t hit call. He just stares blankly at the phone screen like it might explode in his hands.

And then it does.

His phone lights up with a new notification from you. Heart leaping out of his chest as he picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” he says, trying not to sound too eager.

Your voice is small, sounding mildly upset. “Can you come get me?”

Jeongin’s already starting the car. “Of course. You okay?”

There was a long pause, but you reply soft-spokenly, “Yeah. Just… not what I thought it’d be.”

Your voice cracks a little on the word thought, and something in him twists hard.

“Stay there,” he reassures, “I’ll be there in five.”

Another pause follows suit. Then you respond with a quiet, “okay.”

He hangs up, his grip on the steering wheel grew tighter, trying his best to ignore the heat that’s crawling up the back of his neck.

He should be relieved. Over the moon even. But mostly, he’s terrified of the outcome of this. Because tonight, for some reason, he feels as though something’s going to break— and he’s not sure if it’ll be his heart, or the silence between you. Maybe both.

Not even ten minutes later, you’re climbing into his car, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Your perfume comes floating in with you, faint but familiar, like vanilla orchid and late nights— and Jeongin swears it knocks the air right out of his lungs.

You don’t say anything at first. Just buckle your seatbelt with stiff hands, staring out the windshield like it personally wronged you. Your eyeliner’s slightly smudged, your earrings are missing, and your cheeks are flushed, but not from laughter, he can tell. From frustration. From disappointment.

He doesn’t pry with questions. Just hands you the bottle of water he always keeps in his cupholder, label half-peeled from your constant fidgeting over the years.

You take it with a ‘thank you’ so low he barely catches it.

He watches as you untwist the cap and sip in slow silence. The streetlights flickering across your face in a rhythm that feels far too fragile.

It pains him to see you like this.

“He talked about himself the whole time,” you mutter eventually, still choosing not to look at him. “Didn’t ask me anything.”

Jeongin watches the way your fingers pick at the label on the bottle, thumbs moving in distracted little circles. You always do that when you’re thinking too hard. He wonders if you even realize.

He wants to tell you that any guy who doesn’t ask about your favorite Studio Ghibli film within the first five minutes doesn’t deserve a second of your time. That if someone can sit across from you and not feel a magnetic pull toward your laugh, your weird stories, the way you ramble when you’re nervous— then they’ve never had a heart worth trusting in the first place.

Instead, he replies, “that sucks.”

Because it’s the safest thing to say when his own heart is gnawing at the inside of his ribs.

“He also said we should hang out again,” you add, letting out a bitter laugh that sounds more tired than amused. “Said he ‘vibes with my energy.’ Whatever the hell that means.”

Jeongin’s grip on the steering wheel is so tight he could almost break it in half, knuckles whitening, clenching his teeth.

He’s quite a second too long before forcing out, “Do you want to?”

You finally turn your head towards him. “No,” you admit, looking at him. Really looking.

That almost undoes him.

Your eyes are searching, soft, but laced with something deeper. Something older. Something that knows him too well.

“He’s not you.”

He blinks rapidly, caught off guard. “Huh?”

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t know. I just kept thinking how easy everything is with you. Like… he didn’t laugh at my weird stories. He didn’t know how I take my coffee or why I hate pickles or that I cry during Pixar trailers. It felt like I was performing. But with you, I don’t have to.”

Jeongin swallows hard, throat going dry, his mind racing ten miles per minute.

You said it so casually. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s not unraveling every thread he’s spent years pulling taut just to keep himself together around you.

“You shouldn’t settle for someone who makes you feel like you’re not enough,” he tries to remind you of your worth, how there’s no need for you to deal with these sorry, weak excuses of men when he can be all you need and more.

“I’m not,” you say, voice gentler now. “That’s why I’m sitting here. With you.”

Something in his chest snaps upon hearing that. It’s so abrupt even he’s shocked by it. Like something he’s been desperately trying to hold back finally breaks free.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You freeze, raising an eyebrow of confusion. “What?”

He turns to fully face you now, deciding that now was the time to change everything, everything he’s been suppressing for as long he could remember.

“I can’t keep pretending that I don’t love you.”

The car goes eerily quiet. Even the night outside seems to be at a standstill.

“I’ve been in love with you y/n, since we were kids,” he continues, the words come tumbling out— raw, scared, unstoppable. “Since you wore that coat that was a hideous shade of purple every winter and made me dance with you in your living room at midnight. I’ve loved you through it all. I can’t stress enough how much you mean to me. You’re all I think about, I can’t even look at other girls the way I look at you, there’s no comparison. It’s either you or nothing, I really don’t care about anyone else.”

You blink several times to register all of what he’s saying, but none of this still seems real to you. Even after he’s confessed everything, poured his whole heart out while looking at you with a straight face and candor of his actions— it’s still not clicking for you.

He can’t believe he just admitted to all of this out loud but truthfully, it’s like a weights been lifted off his shoulders, finally freeing himself of this mental prison he’s locked hisself in for so many years. If you say no he’ll ultimately have to accept it, though he won’t let you go just yet.

“Jeongin..” your voice trails off, too lost in thought to even conjure up a proper response.

He cuts in before you get the chance to react, “You don’t have to say anything. I know this’ll probably ruin everything and you might not want to remain friends, I- I get it. I just couldn’t watch you walk away again and wonder if maybe I should’ve said something. I had to say it. Just once.”

Your silence is a living thing, stretching thinly between you and trembling, full of everything neither of you said your whole lifetime. The car feels too small, too intimate, too heavy with history.

And then, you reach for him.

With no hesitation, a set of lips are pressed onto his. Eyes wide open from shock, but soon melts into you, deepening the kiss with a fiery passion that could only be ignited from years worth of pining.

He’s only ever kissed you in his daydreams but the real thing? It doesn’t compare one bit. It felt surreal kissing you, touching you, holding you this closely.

Your lips sync together in motion, connecting as one. His hands cupped your face perfectly; so soft, so warm, and inviting. Your fingers were now tangled in his hair and he tilts his head to capture more of you. The sweet taste of you was exactly as he imagined, he couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing those pretty lips of yours.

Dopamine floods his senses like static electricity, it was all too much for him yet he couldn’t stop himself. He was intoxicated by you. It was probably that favorite cherry chapstick you always wore, he knows that was your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could.

You left each other breathless by the time you pulled away. His lips red and puffy from all the pressure.

“I hope that clears up my response,” you express finally, “I know you said I may not want to remain friends after telling me this, but that’s okay. I don’t want to be just friends, I’ve always wanted something more with you too.”

His eyes lit up. It felt like he could finally breathe again. He poked your arm, lightly touching you to make sure this wasn’t another lucid dream he could’ve been having.

He was going to ask you to pinch him but he’ll save himself the embarrassment for later.

“I feel so secure when I’m with you, it’s like nothing else matters when I’m around you. I know how certain I am of my feelings for you. We don’t have to date right now.. we can take our time if you want. I just feel so truly blessed to have someone like you in my life.” Jeongin does his best to articulate his words but he never feels like it’s enough to convey.

There wasn’t a million words in the world that could ever describe the feelings he has for you but he was adamant on showing them.

“I love you Jeongin.”

His heart almost stopped once he heard that. This felt way better than a dream, the reality was far more sentimental. He wasn’t expecting the night to turn into a sappy love confession between you two but here you both are. Sitting in his car through the late hours, looking with nothing but admiration for one another.

“I love you y/n. Always have and always will, I’ll continue to love you in every way possible. I’ll never let you go from this day forward.”

perm taglist: @justwonder113 @emilyywhyy @leeknowslefteyebrow @min-doesnt-know @velechi @kayleefriedchicken @jeonginsbaee @thelittletobsterthatcould @queenofdumbfuckery @met30rc1ty @mouthfullobats @geni-627 @amarecerasus @emma-your-goofy-girlfie @n4tr3ad5 @cowboylikemalika @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @skzfangirl143 @mmarusa @velvetskize @seungmyynie @trixiekaulitz @my-neurodivergent-world @yourgirljasmiin @xryusarax @natcap25 @bussdownflockiana @bahngerang @browniesandsunshine @jeonginslittledoll @camryn-haitani @hansmic | if you wanna be tagged in any of my future posts fill out this form here. ♡

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fluverys · 1 month ago

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sunghoon as your boyfriend, insta stories.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enha #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha smut #desire unleash #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #enhypen ot7 #park sunghoon #kpop #bias #kpop fanfic

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fluverys · 1 month ago

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𝘐 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘈𝘓𝘞𝘈𝘠𝘚 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜 - 𝘕𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘙𝘪𝘬𝘪

childhood best friend!Riki x GN!reader

Summary: you were pretty popular throughout the start of your high school years in Japan, but turning 18, it suddenly changed. Riki, your childhood best friend, and now your only friend, is here to help you pursue your dream and his. Will you both make it to become an idol? Despite the confusion and uncertainty you're going through?

Genre: friends to ??, angst, sfw || words: 4.2K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, cursing, skinship (comfort hugs, kisses.), grief. || Not proofread!

a/n: I'm rewriting my stories from tiktok on here, so practically copying myself but more text, lol. Enjoy!

Spring break is over, and it’s Monday..again. You let out a sigh as you get out of bed to get ready. Luckily you were up pretty early, so you had enough time to freshen up, get ready and eat breakfast. Normally Riki would’ve texted you when he’s on his way, but he didn’t this morning. You didn’t pay it any mind; he probably slept in. You opened the door, calling out a quick ‘goodbye’ to your mother and left for school.

You hated school. Anxiety creeping in as soon as you arrived by the gates. Which was ironic, since you were the person everyone used to love and look up to, now they despise you and make your school life a literal hell. Before you reached the gates, a big hand was put on your shoulder, followed with a bubbly “Good morning, y/n!”

You turned around to be faced with an overly happy Riki. You laughed, given his normally quieter mood in the morning. “What’s gotten you so happy in the morning?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“You.” He simply replied. You visibly cringed at his choice of words, how cheesy? He swung his arm around you shoulders while chuckling, “kidding, I’m just happy because we got dance classes again. Aaand, it’s my only class with you, y/n. I look forward to it.”

You nod, happy about the fact that you still have at least one class with him, even though it’s a school’s club you both signed up for. You give him a soft smile, hiding the fact that you’re anxious as shit. How will you survive all your other classes without Riki?

You walked into school together, speeding up your pace to get to your class faster. And what you feared happened again.

The whispers, the looks, the nagging and mockery.

“Such a freak.” One said, followed by someone else, “so pathetic, I wonder how everyone like a person who makes decisions like that when drunk.”. Laughter of mockery echoed around you like a plague.

“Just focus on me, y/n.” Riki said, holding you a bit tighter, “You’ll be okay.”

After reluctantly letting go of Riki when you had to enter your classroom, you sat down at a desk on the front row, hoping to feel at least a bit safer with a teacher having you in sight. But that thought was shut down quickly as the teacher didn’t even pay attention to you, as if she’s almost disgusted with you. And so for today, your classes felt like they went on for eternity. Until finally the bell rang that signaled it was time for your last class.

Dance practice.

Ever since the beginning of the year, you and Riki decided to be dance partners. The two of you are known as the best dancing duo. Each semester has new choreographies, including this semester.

“Alright, everyone! For the first lessons, we want to see how well you and you partner can perform choreographies out of movies before we move on to the next project.” The teacher said.

“You definitely know what that means, y/n.” Riki said, wiggling his eyebrows, hinting at something. You shook your head vigorously, crossing your arms, “No way in hell, Riki. We’re not doing the final dance from dirty dancing.

“But it’s your favorite movie!” He protested. “Besides, we’ve practiced the fly since we were kids. We can do this, y/n, don’t be a lame.”

And with that, you’re standing in front of class, ready to perform the choreography with Riki. Well- you weren’t ready. Riki was, encouraging you to be confident. Who gives a fuck what others think..right?

You tried to cancel out the laughing of other students. Even Riki’s other friends laughed at you, they obviously disliked you for some reason. The room felt smaller with each step. But your eyes met with Riki’s. He mouthed the words of encouragement that you wanted to hear from him.

“You can do it, y/n. Trust me.”

The ending of the dance was nearing, the lifting part. You practiced this over and over again. Each time felt magical, the way you’d run towards him, his hands holding onto your waist and hoisting you up in the air. Your arms stretched out as wings as you hover above him. A moment of floating, and a deeper connection with Riki. You could do it now again, just close your eyes and go.

Go..go..and go.

His hands slightly grazing your waist, but there was no grip. The magical feeling was quickly turned into humiliation as you collided with the floor.

Laughter, whispers, looks. Again and again.

You slowly opened up your eyes, too ashamed to face everyone. The teacher ran up to you, asking you things that went into your ear and out the other. Riki. Where was Riki? You look over at his friends, seeing them doing some fucked up handshake in victory. Was this planned? Did Riki just..drop you?

Before you could yell, cry or run. Your teacher helped you out of the dance studio. “Jesus, y/n..why the hell would you do that choreography?!” your teacher asked.

“Riki and I practiced this so many times, and each time we managed to do it! Why wouldn’t we choose this?” you replied back, looking around, “talking about Riki, where did he run off to?!..”

Your teacher gave you a worried look, a hand on your shoulder to keep you calm.

“You’re dismissed, y/n. Go home and rest up.” Your teacher said. You just nodded your hand, letting out a big sigh as you make your way home.

Throughout the day you tried to call Riki for an explanation. No answer, no text, no nothing. What was his problem? Did he drop you on purpose?

Finally it’s Friday, another week of this hell hole that you survived. Riki hasn’t been to school all week, it felt empty without him, despite what happened. You felt like something was missing..

A feeling? A memory?

You quickly put the thought away, the fall is probably messing up your head. You went home, looking forward to not having to be at school for at least 2 days.

When you finally made it back home, you opened the door and kicked off your shoes. A small smile on your face as you get a whiff of your favorite dinner being made and the sound of footsteps walking towards you.

“Welcome home, y/n! You gotta sit down for this!” your mom said excitedly, pulling you in for a warm embrace. You hugged her back, feeling safe into your mother’s arms, “mom, what’s gotten you all excited?”

Without a word she pulled you towards the couch, sitting down and pulling you with her. “God, where do I even start! There are flyers everywhere that there are auditions here in Japan, honey. Different music labels are looking for new trainees!”

Your eyes widen in surprise and your gloomy mood is long forgotten. You took the flyer that your mom brought home. Reading over it. Your fingers skimming over the words. It’s really happening, they’re auditioning here, and you’re going to give your all.

But not without him. Three months is all you got to keep practicing for this audition and you need him.

You gave your mom a side hug before standing up, “I need to show this to Riki.” You said. Before you could walk away, your mom gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Honey, you know that you can’t do that, right?” she said. Why couldn’t you? You knew what happened last Monday was shitty, but it’s his dream too. One that you promised to always share. Your mother understood your silence, giving you a reassuring nod before letting you. And with that, you were on your way to find Riki.

You tried calling him twice while walking towards his house, but he doesn’t pick up. He never does.

“Fucking hell, Riki! Just pick up the goddamn phone for once!-“ before you could finish your angry voicemail. He was there, out of nowhere, in front of you.

“Looking for me, I see?” he laughed, knowing that he startled you. “So..” he continued, “what was so important that you had to yell at your phone?”

Your mood switched from annoyed to excitement as you got to tell him about the auditions, rambling and planning away. From planning dance practices to vocal lessons, and much more. He was smiling to himself, loving your excitement and determination for this audition, and he was going to guide you in any way he could.

“Alright, alright, y/n. Calm down. How about we start the practice with some karaoke tonight, hm?” he suggested. Ugh, you’re a sucker for some karaoke, and he knows that, how could you say no to that? You slowly nodded your head, reluctantly agreeing to go with him.

Before you could ask for an explanation for Monday, you felt his hand touching your arm, pulling you a bit closer to him. “How ‘bout a fancy dinner after, y/n?”

You cursed yourself out in your head. He’s just asking for dinner, not to kiss you, so why are your palms sweaty and is your heart racing like this? The only thing you can think of right now was his hand on your arm, his stupidly gorgeous eyes, maybe his lips as well, but anything other than the incident that happened Monday.

Fuck it.

“A fancy dinner sounds nice, i would love to go..with you.”

You’re both strolling through the streets of Okayama, looking for a karaoke place nearby. While walking you can’t help but to think..again. The emptiness without him, that weird feeling, was it this that was missing? A spark of hope and love? It’s just dinner with your best friend, yet you can’t help feeling a sense of déjà vu. The butterflies, the gaze, it felt all too familiar. What happened that you can’t recall?

After some time you both finally found a karaoke bar. You both walk in, going up to the counter to make a reservation for tonight. Behind the counter stood a pretty girl, you recognized her from school. She’s quiet and not really popular, but she’s definitely Riki’s type. You remember in freshmen year how he was gushing over her, indicating his crush on her.

Jealousy

You felt guilty for feeling jealous, but you couldn’t help it.

“Hey, y/n?..i’m going to the restroom real quick. Can you advance this for me, please? Dinner’s on me, i promise!” Riki said, basically heading off to the restrooms already.

You just subtly rolled your eyes and sighed, leaving you with no choice to pay. You look up at the pretty girl behind the counter, giving her your best smile to hide any jealously you felt towards her, “Hi, uhm- can I please pay for a room for 2, please? 2 hours is fine.”

The girl looked at you weirdly mostly confused, trying her best to be polite. “Oh..but you’re alone here?” she said.

You chuckled, pointing towards the restrooms, “Riki is using the restroom, im making a reservation for us.” You shouldn’t have said his name so explicitly, you just did it on purpose so the girl would most definitely know that you’re with him and he’s not with her. You once again curse yourself out in your head for being so jealous, almost possessive.

You’re still caught up in your thoughts, but got disrupted as the girl suddenly started to laugh in your face, it was humorless, almost a scoff in disgust. She raised an eyebrow at you, “Riki? As in Nishimura Riki? Are you kidding? He’s-“ she stopped talking, letting out an awkward cough to compose herself. “Do you want to pay cash or card, y/n?”

The way she said your name was giving you chills, is she jealous too? Why was she so..cold out of a sudden? You gave her a soft, but fake smile, “card, please.”

After having fun with karaoke, Riki took you out to dinner like he promised to. It was indeed fancy. Both indulging into a delicious starter, main course and desert. The ambience felt romantic, but was it just to you? It can’t be, not when he looks at you like that. His eyes sparkly, admiring you. Or is it just your imagination?

After dinner Riki walked you home, talking about everything and anything. It felt safe, he felt like home. The way you both talked and bantered like always, just with a bit more flirtation felt like a lost memory that has resurfaced again. You don’t want to lose this, lose him. Why is the urge to hold onto him so strong? Friends don’t think like that.

“I really enjoyed tonight, y/n.” he said, bringing you out of your thoughts. He pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. He always used to hug you like this, why does it feel so good, yet painful?

“y/n, look at me..”

And before you know it, his lips are on yours. A soft innocent peck at first, before going in for a longer and deeper kiss. He pulls away, leaving you wanting more. At this point your head is pounding with confusing, it didn’t feel real. How didn’t it feel real?

You quickly rushed to say goodnight, heading inside. Your mother is already asleep, so you quietly make your way upstairs, throwing your phone on your bed, leaving it there as you go and take a shower. Needing to cool off and clear your head.

A feeling, a memory. What is your mind not telling you?

After your shower and getting dressed in your sleepwear, you head to bed. Grabbing your phone.

10 missed calls from an unknown number? Weird.

You decided to call them back, maybe Riki finally got the balls to ever call you after months of not even calling, picking up or texting.

“Good evening, is this y/n speaking?” a male voice on the other side of the line.

Nervously you replied back, “Hi, yes. It is. What’s going on?”

“I’m Ren, from Okayama Restaurant, you had a reservation tonight, correct?”

Okayama Restaurant? Why are they calling you? Did you forget something there? “Yes, I was there tonight, did I leave something?”

Ren scoffed on the other side of the phone, his voice more stern now, “You left the restaurant without paying. This is unacceptable, but mistakes may happen. You have a three business days to pay us back, or else there will be consequences.”

“Not payed? But-“ Ren cut you off before you could finish your sentence, “three business days, y/n. goodnight.” With that being said, Ren already hung up the phone, leaving you stunned and speechless. Not payed? How can the bill not be payed when Riki should’ve taken care of it? Anger rised up inside of you once again, the butterflies and giddy feeling forgotten.

He left you with the bill. He didn’t pay for dinner like he promised.

A month went by, and time was ticking. You never felt worse, from dreaming about becoming an idol with Riki to doing it all by yourself. You haven’t seen or heard about Riki ever since the restaurant incident, which you paid for. School without him was hard, it felt suffocating. So you decided to just not show up and focus on your auditions. You were pushing yourself to the point where you couldn’t take it anymore.

Now here you are, sitting alone in the dance studio, wiping your own tears away from exhaustion and feeling annoyed with yourself. Thing weren’t going how you would’ve wanted them to go. Why do you need him? Too blinded with love perhaps? Whatever, all you need right now is him, to hold you and reassure you that you’ll both make it. Despite that all he does is mess with your head.

A feeling…A memory…

What are you holding onto?

You decided to call him, is that even worth it anymore? The ringing filled the silence like a question.

Ring… Ring…

He didn’t pick up, of course he didn’t.

Desperately you wanted to hit dial again, but before you hit the button, he was there. In front of you. Looking like he didn’t even break a sweat. You didn’t hear the door opening or him even coming in, weird, but probably too caught up in your emotions. He dropped down to his knees in front of you, pulling your arm and holding you close, his soft, but cold lips planting kisses onto your temple and face. “I’m sorry, y/n..i’m so fucking sorry..” he whispers between each kiss, until the last kiss was planted on your lips. Yet again, it was cold.. it didn’t feel real, but it somehow held so much emotion. You didn’t dare to say a word, not wanting to lose him again.

You forgave him, truth to be told, you forgave him a month ago already. You both promised to keep fighting the last two months for the audition. He promised himself to guide you, even if it was the last thing he would do.

The last month was over. Training was done, but he finally stayed. Steady, solid..real. Telling yourself that you haven’t lost anything, so why does it feel like something in your head has already been taken?

It was the day of the audition. You woke up early to get yourself ready and prepared. The destination where the auditions were held was too long of a distance to walk, so intended to pick Riki up to drive there. You grabbed your bag, keys, and everything you needed. Hugged your mother goodbye and went out to your car, stepping into the driver’s seat.

It had been a while since you last drove a car. Your hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

A feeling.. A memory.. Déjà vu…

A wave of nausea washed over you, taking deep breaths in and out to prevent yourself from throwing up. “It’s probably just nerves.” You tell yourself, calming down slowly, and driving off to pick Riki up.

The wait in the waiting room felt like an eternity, you have never felt this nervous. Riki who was waiting beside you grabbed your hand, stroking over the back of your hand with his thumb, “you’re going to be okay, y/n. I believe in you.”

You looked down at your hand intertwined with his before moving your gaze back up to his face, “aren’t you nervous, ki? You’re acting like i’m the only one auditioning today when you’re doing it as well!”

Riki simply let out a small laugh, telling you that he is more nervous for you than he is for himself. He kept reassuring you, until your name was called.

“Good luck, y/n. I know that you can do it.” He said with the biggest smile on his face. You gave him a nervous little wave, “you too, Rikster. I know that you can do it too!”

And with that said, you were ready to give in you’re all to the judges.

Clapping, whistles and happiness.

Unlike the laughter and mockery you’ve gotten used to. Your heart was beating loud in your chest, letting out a big breath that you didn’t know you were holding in, when the words you always dreamed of, were being said.

“Congratulations, y/n! We would absolutely love to fly you out to Korea and take you in for training.”

As soon as you saw Riki again, you jumped up and down, holding his hands while he was laughing. “Can you believe it?! I passed!” you said excitedly, stopping with jumping to look him better in the eyes, “did you pass, ki? When will you hear something?”

Riki gave you a soft smile, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, “they told me that they’ll let me know, y/n.” his thumb is softly stroking your cheek now, “come on, let’s celebrate! You’re leaving to Korea after all. We gotta make the best of it here in Japan.” He said. You nodded, you would have to leave your mother and Japan behind to pursue your dream with Riki. So you have to make the most if it while you’re still here.

The day is here, it’s time to leave, to start anew. “Riki, the uber is here in 10, hurry your ass up!” you shout. Riki has been quiet the last few days..too quiet. He never told you if he passed the auditions or not, but seeing his eyes sparkle each time you talked about it. You just assumed that he did. “Rikster, you’re too quiet, aren’t you happy that we made it?”

Riki looked down at his feet, a soft smile creeping in before he looks back at you, “no, y/n. You did it. You did it all on your own.” You let out a scoff, “what? No. you made it too, and we did this all together! I couldn’t have done this without you, Riki..”

Riki kept looking at you, no hint of anger or sadness, just pure pride and happiness. You started to get annoyed, why is he messing with your head..again? “Cut the bullshit, Riki! We’re going together, and that’s final.”

“Do you really not remember, y/n?” he whispered under his breath.

No?..no. You don’t remember. Your head is spiraling, but Riki’s happy expression didn’t falter, you were only met with his lovely smile, and now somber eyes.

“Your eighteenth birthday party, y/n. Do you really not remember?” He said, your eyes desperately looking into his, trying to find anything behind them.

“I love you.” He said, but he said it like he said it to you a million times. Tears of frustration and confusion well up in your eyes, “Riki, what is this all of a sudden?”

“We said our ‘I love you’s’, y/n. We confessed to each other.” He said.

A feeling.

He continued, “We went for a drive, under the influence, to celebrate our new relationship.”

Déjà vu.

And lastly he said, “we got into a car accident, y/n.”

A memory.

...

His smile faltered for a bit, looking more concerned than sad, “apparently your memory loss still isn’t over and-“

Before he could finish his sentence, there was a loud honk outside, signaling that the uber had arrived.

You don’t know what to say, the only thing on your mind is getting you and Riki in that uber, and fly out to Korea to pursue your dreams, “I know that I love you, Riki, more than friends, and I realized that with the memories I created anew this past year. Just please, let’s get into that uber and we’ll talk everything out when we’re settled in Korea.”

You turned around to open the door, but the sound of Riki’s scoff through sniffles caught you off guard.

“You really have no idea, do you?”, his voice hinting at disappointment, frustration and weakness. And the words that you never expected to leave his mouth, did.

“I…didn’t survive the crash, y/n.”

You felt the world crumble underneath you, everything hitting you at once, another feeling, another memory.He’s dead. Your best friend, your rock, your lover, died. Because of you.

You were the driver. You stepped behind the wheel under the influence, and dragged Riki with you.

Everything started to make sense now. No shit that everyone hates you. You’re the one to blame that Riki is gone, someone’s friend, someone’s son.

That Monday that he ‘dropped’ you? He wasn’t there to catch you in the first place, no wonder that everyone laughed. You probably looked fucking stupid. The pretty girl at the karaoke place? Riki’s freshmen year crush. She knew he was dead because of you, she just let you pay for two persons instead.

The unpaid bill; you ate alone. Riki was never with you. The phone calls that are left unanswered; Riki couldn’t answer cause he’s gone.

The kisses that felt cold and unreal, felt like that because you never got to feel them. Your mind holding on to the last bit it could remember when he kissed you before you both drove off, drunk

“But..i can see you! Why didn’t you tell me right away! Why?..” tears streaming down your face as you’re looking for answers, answers that you already know.

Riki sighed, his expression softening once again, “because i’m in your head, y/n. I can’t tell you what you have to figure out on your own. Every scenario, including this one, is all your own doing and thoughts. You’re imagining me, holding on to every last but that you know and feel about me.”

Outside was the uber honking again. Indicating that he’s getting impatient.

Riki stepped closer, wrapping his arms around, like a guardian angel spreading it’s wings to embrace you, “I was only here to guide you, y/n. That was my last wish.” He pulled away slightly, to look at your tear streaked face, “you have to go, love. You can do this without me.”

You look back into his eyes, crying and begging for it to be a dream, the feeling of guilt that you’ll hold forever with you weighs heavily. You took his dream, and now you have to pursue it for the both of you.

“It’s okay, y/n. I forgave you a long time ago. Please..don’t cry anymore.”

He cupped your face, giving the softest and most meaningful last kiss on your lips. It felt warm, it felt real, it was him.

“I will always love you, y/n.”

The End.

a/n: rewriting this made me cry lol. I want to thank @dazzlingjaeyun for getting me into writing again hihi. I hope this will receive some love and support. love you all, mwah!

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fluverys · 1 month ago

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제이크⠀﹕ 𝒴APPING⠀﹐

﹕⠀he can't help but keep talking.⠀✦

loser sim jaekyun female reader ⊹ established relationship kissing ﹙445﹚ . . . shelf !

you were kissing your boyfriend when he suddenly leaned back, looking at you through his barely opened eyes.

“do you know that otters hold hands while sleeping so they don’t float away from each other?” he said, catching some air. now you were looking at his face.

“that's kinda sad, actually” your lips were gosthing over his. his eyes looking at yours. dilated pupils staring back. jake swallowed, opening and closing his mouth.

“yeah, maybe i should change my algorithm on tik tok” he said under his breath, hands still on your waist, squeezing gently.

“hm..” slowly nodding and closing your eyes, you approached his mouth, trying to kiss him again, but..

“oh, i have another one..” he started when your lips were about to touch his, “do you know that australia is wider than the moon?”

you open your eyes, scrunching your brows.

“what?” you babble, trying to process his words.

“yeah. cool, right?” he smirks. hands squeezing your sides, moving you closer to him — if that was even possible.

“jake..” your left hand traveled to the back of his neck. he looked back at you with shiny eyes. boyish smile placed between his swallowed lips.

“yeah?”

“can you just kiss me?” you pulled him to you by his neck, and he let you do whatever you wanted.

finally, your mouth crashed with his, kissing him intensely. he put one hand on your back, letting the other on your waist, leaning to you, chasing your lips. your legs squeezed his as you fixed yourself on his lap.

“your tongue..” he rests his forehead on yours, eyes interlocked, making you unconsciously sigh as you stare at him.

“what about it?” you ask, biting your lower lip, suppressing a smile. you wait for him to speak. jake licked his lips before speaking.

“do you know that our tongues have a unique pattern? like our digital prints but on our tongues.” he wide his eyes a little with excitement, same smile on his lips.

and then you lose it, laughing in his face.

“what? why are you laughing?” he frowns, wrapping his arms around your waist. you just shake your head, smiling.

“nothing, i just like you; you and all the things you say.” with your free hand, you take a lock of hair away from his eyes. jake smiles back, giggling.

“well, i like you too; you and your smile.. i like to make you smile.” his nose is touching yours. you can see his eyes curving.

“and i also like it when you kiss m—”

before you could finish, he's kissing you, putting his hand on the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

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fluverys · 1 month ago

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𝖢𝖱𝖠𝖹𝖸 𝖮𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖸𝖮𝖴, 𝖡𝖠𝖡𝖸 𝗈𝗋 % 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗅 . .

ST✮RRING───𝒮.𝖩𝖸 ୨୧ 966 && 𝐖. kiss scene drinks ˖ ✧

ㅤ𝖤𝑋𝖳𝖱𝖠 ㅤ ( ￢ _￢ ; ) ㅤ this is so long overdue oh my GOSH hi kirakira my pookie baby girlfie, hope you like this gorgeous >3< NO ONE EVEN TOLD ME I DIDNT HAVE THE WORDCOUNT WRITTEN ygs are fake friends ihy .

check out my other account ! 𝖢𝘓𝗂𝖢𝖪 ᰈ̠ 𝖭𝘈𝖵𝗂

you always knew that jake sim was never one to play fair.

but then, like it was a routine, he had looked at you with those big, stupidly gorgeous eyes and told you he didn’t want to be alone that night with a hesitant mumble of, “could you keep him company? just for a bit ..”

and like clockwork, you had caved.

you could only imagine what your friends would’ve said had they seen you with jake then, his entire 5’11 stature completely draped on you as if your presence was the only thing keeping him grounded to reality.

and it might as well have been, truly, considering how completely drunk out of his mind he was.

usually you find it easy to rationalize with those who’ve had a little too much to drink. but what was jake sim if not a being sent solely for the purpose of going against everything you consider a fact of nature?

it hadn’t even started that bad, if you think back to it.

just another end-of-the-semester celebration for you and your classmates. and not to brag, but you’d gotten the highest marks in your major and (possibly) had gloated about the same a little too much, a little too publicly.

jake had taken it all in stride, to be fair. laughing your words off with easy, playful jabs like he didn’t care about it at all and that pissed you off more than you’d like to admit.

the evening ran by fast. slowly but surely, friends and acquaintances started trickling out. somewhere along the way you’d ended up pushed right next to him on the couch, his shoulder pressing against you in a way that you found hard to ignore.

you could’ve sworn you said something about leaving, bag slung over your shoulder, when jake had reached out. his fingers grazing your wrist, the gesture so innocent you’d genuinely considered falling for it.

“don’t go yet,” he’d said, voice quieter than you’d ever known it to be, “please?”

and you did. against your better judgement.

maybe you just didn’t want to make a scene.

or maybe .. you had a temporary lapse in sanity. caused by how stupidly cute and helpless his flushed cheeks looked. like a puppy.

albeit a very annoying one who definitely did not deserve your sympathy. but still had it, anyway.

next thing you knew, he was clinging onto your arm, his other hand resting a little too comfortably on your waist. you hated how close he’d leaned into your figure, all the while mumbling about some new assignment he’d been working on.

you hated how warm, how heavy he was. hated that you wanted him closer still.

“hey,” his hand grasped your chin to lift your gaze towards his own, with a care that almost made you ache, “you’re not even looking at me.”

your gaze finally met his—and that, you would later realize, was your second mistake.

because he was looking at you like you were the only real thing in the world that was worth focusing on—eyes lidded, slightly hazy, but ever confident.

he was close enough that you could count every eyelash laying delicately on his cheekbones.

“don’t do this,” you’d blurted out, voice barely louder than a whisper, “you’re drunk.”

but even then, you made no move to pull away.

jake only smiled, and shook his head slightly, as if amused. “i was drunk,” he corrected you, “but not anymore. not for this.”

“i hate you,” you mumbled back, more trying to convince yourself of the fact than him, though you had a sinking feeling that he already knew it was the furthest thing from the truth.

“no you don’t.”

he leaned closer till the tip of his nose was an inch away from yours and suddenly the chatter around you, the music, the soft lights—everything seemed to fade away.

breathless from the reduced space between you, you’d asked, “how would you know?”

“because you’re here.” jake’s tone was reverent, thumb brushing against your lower lip. “because you stayed.”

your breath caught in your throat. what could you possibly reply to that with?

insist that you still hated him? hell, you wouldn’t believe yourself say that after how your fingers clutched onto his shoulder for purchase.

still, you vaguely remember having said it anyway, a shaky voice telling him how he always ruined everything and how you hated every single thing about him.

jake’s hand slid up to cup the side of your face more firmly, fingers sinking into your hair. “you don’t mean that,” he answered simply, eyes fixed on your lips.

“i do.”

but you didn’t, though you wished with your entire being that you did.

and when he kissed you, it was nothing like you could’ve imagined.

it wasn’t soft, careful.

it was aching, messy, real—like jake had been holding back for far too long and simply didn’t know how to stop now that he had you.

his hand on your waist dug deeper, pulling you flush against himself like he needed to feel every inch of you just to be able to breathe right.

your own hands were now desperately hanging onto his sweater—maybe to push him away, maybe to drag him closer—you couldn’t tell for sure.

all you know for sure is that when you did finally pull apart, it wasn’t by choice.

it was due to the need for air.

just for a second, to remember what the actual hell you were doing. to remember who it was that you were kissing.

“i still hate you,” you’d immediately said, unsteady as you struggled to catch your breath.

“i know,” he rested his forehead resting against yours, again with that damned smile of his, “but you kissed me back.”

𐙚 . regulars : @chrrific @jessxxxfwd @evanesceki @soobundle1009 @weedatthegasstattion @flipitkickit @douqhnxtss @soona-huh @amoressb @nicholasluvbot @manariee @rinrinninnin @ddeonuswife @douqhnxtss @lovenha7 @amatariki @i-am-not-dal @liyahhhh620 @elleetlalune @eunwonji @s0shroe @wensurr @unhakies @starniras @calabaeri @athenaisonlinee @weepingsweep @itsactuallylina ⋆

[ 𝑓𝗋𝑜𝗆 陰 ] : taglist people hello ! in the future, i'll be tagging ygs in fics i post here, as well as on bambisnc <3

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fluverys · 1 month ago

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𝖮𝖮𝖯𝖲 ! % luggage mix-ups&cute strangers

ST✮RRING───𝗡.𝓡𝗞 ୨୧ 2566 && 𝐖. crackfic wigs implied frozen 1 slander jake + jungwon mentioned lilo&stitch mentioned sunghoon & minju appearance as airport staff reader wears glasses + likes sanrio

ㅤ𝖤𝑋𝖳𝖱𝖠 ㅤ ( > ㅅ < ) ㅤ i really went ALL out for this >< my longest drabble yet! thank you to mana for emotional support during my many crashouts, and shoutout tewww juni, koi, lilly for listening to me yap about my idea and mi + ai for semi proofreading ! i love ygs big time MWAH

check out my other account ! 𝖢𝘓𝗂𝖢𝖪 ᰈ̠ 𝖭𝘈𝖵𝗂

after getting off of a terribly long and otherwise unpleasant flight, all you really want is to grab your luggage, find a cab back home and face-plant into your comfy, cosy bed. and then stay there for a minimum of 15 hours.

it was the only thing keeping you going, really.

but of course, the universe has other plans for you.

you should’ve caught on to that, from how suspicious it was that as soon as you reached baggage claim … by some stroke of luck, you spotted your suitcase immediately.

oh, joy! for once, you wouldn’t have to stand like an idiot for an odd 25 minutes, watching various pieces of luggage roll out on the conveyor belt, moving so slowly that it was almost mocking.

with a quick internal cheer, you’d rushed to grab the handle of the bag.

… only for another hand to also be picking the same suitcase up?

oh! you get it. the stranger who you’ve now appraised with a quick glance (really tall, sharp features and nice hair) is just helping you out!

maybe there is good in the world, after all!

you flash him a quick smile, ready to thank him for being so nice, but really, you can handle the suitcase on your own,—before a scowl takes over his pretty features.

okay. rude.

hot people should not be allowed to look that annoyed and still be attractive.

“i’d really appreciate it if you’d stop trying to steal my luggage,” he tells you, the words forced out through grit teeth.

you find yourself sympathizing with him for a minute, the slight bags under his eyes quite telling of a rough flight.

but no. you’ve had a difficult flight too.

you’ve had to listen to a toddler whine about why frozen 2 is better than the first one for the greater part of 3 hours (who honestly did have some good points, if you really think about it).

you’ve had to deal with some stupid 13 year old who kept reclining his seat farther and farther back (and after you politely told her to stop, she stuck her tongue out at you. the audacity.)

and the worst of all.

the guy seated next to you kept trying to get you to invest in his potential cult / pyramid marketing scheme for yak fur wigs.

you kept telling him you were broke but you’re quite sure he didn’t even listen to one word you said. especially because when your flight landed he handed you a business card, which was just as sketchy as his description of his business that was about to “take the world by a storm.”

so, no. fuck being nice. you simply do not have the energy for that right now.

“right,” you say, in a voice equally as strained, “that’s funny, because this happens to be mine. maybe try actually, oh, i don’t know, looking at it before you accuse me of “stealing” my own luggage.”

at that, the man’s scowl deepens. he tugs the suitcase towards him once, the movement sharp, and you almost fall right into his chest. but you manage to stop yourself right in time.

all those tiktok balancing exercises—which you did only out of peer pressure from creators who insisted that if you scrolled away without dropping a follow and stretching your limbs as they were doing in the video, it would be nothing short of catastrophic—must be finally coming into use.

“my vision is completely fine. 20/20, in fact.” he says smugly, with obvious disdain towards your own glasses.

how dare he hold your bad eyesight against you like that.

this means war.

“clearly it’s not,” you slide the suitcase back towards your own figure. “because this is mine. good luck finding your own though! may i suggest paying ‘Lost & Found’ a quick visit?”

mr. stranger scoffs at that. loudly. “you can’t really think MY suitcase is yours.”

“well, yes, unless this is actually opposite world wherein your suitcase ALSO has a huge dent at the bottom from where it hit the edge of MY dressing table 5 days ago.”

“you have got to be kidding me.” he sighs, looking tired. the AUDACITY. “i know that dent. that dent is there because jungwon dropped the bag out of my balcony last month, and it slammed right into jake’s remote controlled drone.”

“a drone. really.”

“it’s … a long story.”

“i’m sure it is. i fully believe that happened.” you earnestly say, nodding along with your own words, “jake and jungwon are totally real people and you definitely put a lot of thought into that lie.”

“they are real people, dammit. and i’m not lying.”

you blink up, the picture of innocence. “but y’sound awfully defensive for someone who’s so sure he’s right …”

that does it. his jaw tightens. “okay listen here, you—” mr.stranger’s face has flushed an angry cherry shade by now, and you have to bite back laughter at the image.

but thankfully, right before the situation can elevate to a physical comic book-esque fight over the suitcase in question, a third party finally interrupts.

what looks to be a rather, harassed looking airport assistance staff member appears in front of you with a bright, if slightly worried exclamation, “sir! madam!’

her voice is breathless, slightly shaky with effort, “we’ve been getting constant complaints from the elderly lady over there–she, um, says you’ve been blocking the conveyor belt.”

you glance behind. and sure enough, a crowd of mildly entertained but mostly frustrated passengers stares back.

“i believe the two of you have something to work out regarding that suitcase?” the assistant prods gently, “i could direct you towards the airport authorities, if you’d like?”

“there’s no dispute here!” you pipe up, confidently. “i’ll just be on my way with my suitcase, thank you though!”

you turn around ready to leave, hoping mr.stranger (you should maybe consider asking for his name, at some point) has forgotten about thinking your suitcase was his.

you almost walk away. almost. but right then, his hand grips onto your wrist, effectively stopping you.

“just a minute, doll.” his tone is lowered in what you assume is annoyance in a way that, embarrassingly, sends a shiver down your spine, “there’s just one small problem. that suitcase is still very much mine.”

“fuck off, you very well know this isn’t yours?!”

the assistant raises her hands placatingly, “alright, alright—let’s all calm down here. i really suggest going to the .. baggage authorities.” her tone clearly emphasizes that it wasn’t a “suggestion” at all.

you and mr.stranger, suddenly feeling slightly conscious, exchange a glance and unanimously decide to comply.

soon enough, you’re taken into the office by her and presented to a uniformed man behind the counter.

he takes one look at you and mr. stranger, gaze squinted in silent scrutiny. the practiced customer smile that he directs towards you soon after is only slightly forced.

“another 320LMAO, is it minju?,” he asks the assistant, tone dry and oozing of boredom. “not one day goes by without one of these. i’m getting too old for this shit.”

“you’re 22, sunghoon.”

“i meant metaphorically. obviously. get with the times, minju.”

“do your job, sunghoon.”

sunghoon grumbles at that. he takes an additional 10 whole minutes to stare at you and mr.stranger, respectively, before wordlessly beckoning for the suitcase.

mr.stranger obliges, sliding it towards him with a weirdly unnecessary flair.

“as much as i’d hate to interrupt the .. uh, proceedings” he begins, “... what exactly is a 320LMAO?”

minju the assistant sighs and mutters something under her breath which sounds a suspicious amount like here we go again. completely contrasting her demeanour, sunghoon’s face lights up like he’s been waiting years for someone to ask.

“it’s code, actually! lingo for the cool, hip airport guys, if you will—Luggage Misidentified Again Ohmygod. LMAO. and the 320 is there because minju said it’d sound more official like that.”

minju looks like she’d rather be anywhere else at the moment and flusters around for a second or two before gesturing something towards her phone and all but booking it out of the room.

so, basically, you and YOUR suitcase are totally in good hands.

“... and so, finally, after 6 days and 23 whole hours we were able to find that battered, orange warrior of a suitcase.” .. sunghoon’s still talking, rather passionately now, about what you’re assuming are the origins of 320LMAO, “and ever since that day, this beloved code has been put in place. thinking about the story gives me chills. literal chills.”

when will this be over? you just want to go home, for god’s sake. with a sideways glance towards mr.stranger, you catch a glimpse of his incredulous expression at sunghoon’s story and let slip a giggle.

he turns to look at you upon hearing your little laugh, and his own tensed features finally give way to a slight smirk. you almost let bygones be bygones due to the sheer reason that he looks … really pretty now that you’re really looking at him.

you can always get a new suitcase, yeah? might as well let him have this one!

“you’re not even listening.” is sunghoon the official … pouting at you and mr.stranger? “oh. i get it. too busy having your little romcom moment to listen to the greatest story of all time.”

a sound not unlike a strangled half-choke, half-cough leaves mr. stranger, “excuse me? we’re really not—”

“whatever. you wouldn’t it get it, anyway. let’s get this over with.” the official crouches down huffily, unzips the suitcase and flips the lid open in a way that only reveals the contents to himself. “woah.”

???

“i need each of you to state some things you had packed in your luggage.” he says, eyes flashing with a hint of amusement.

your my melody makeup bag. a blue cinnamoroll themed polaroid camera. one kuromi plushie. you oblige this information with zero hesitation. you’re proud of your sanrio obsession. who could even say one singular bad thing about something so whimsical and cute and joy-giving?

sunghoon nods slowly.

mr.stranger says he has a chrome hearts hoodie, a new pair of headphones and .. one kuromi plushie. for his younger sister. interesting.

sunghoon nods, facial expression betraying nothing. he’d be really good at poker, you find yourself thinking, right as he clears his throat and makes his verdict, “... well. i don’t even know what to say. you guys can just .. have a look inside, i guess.”

very professional.

however, you both lean in as soon as he words out the sentence, eager to finally, finally put an end to this.

there’s a pause. all you can really do is stare.

“... what the hell?” mr.stranger mumbles, tone so unbelieving and full of wonder it elicits a snort from sunghoon.

you blink. once, twice.

the shock of plain, mousy brown that greets you from the inside stares back resolutely.

the suitcase appears to be full of … wigs?

you really hope they are wigs.

sunghoon uses one gloved finger to daintily edge away a few of the .. wigs .. present at the surface to reveal …

… what looks to be a gorgeously painted porcelain sink (yes like the one where you do the washing), exactly 2 and a half bowling pins (one of them being somehow broken vertically) and a metal case.

which on further investigation turns out to be filled with miniature replicas of medieval weaponry.

oh, and, one life sized victorian era accurate crown.

“so?” the official prods, “whose is it, then?”

“that … is definitely not mine.” you immediately say, only for mr.stranger to exclaim in a way that overlaps with yours completely.

“uh. yeah, no, same.” he adds, stepping back like the suitcase might be infectious.

the deadpan expression on sunghoon’s face says everything he’s probably too polite to actually voice out. but thankfully, minju—your life saving grace, an angel from the heavens,your .. knight in shining armor, even—peeks into the room right at the moment.

“sunghoon. emergency. a child has climbed on top of the “lilo & stitch” display and won’t get down. he says frozen 2 is the superior movie and demands to meet olaf.”

“againnn?” said man whines, “i’m so over this shit, ugh.” but after a quick little tantrum he does eventually leave the room, grumbling out a short “don’t touch anything” to you and mr.stranger.

obviously, you and mr.stranger unanimously decide to touch everything.

in the suitcase, that is.

aside from the wigs. obviously.

“hey, mr.stranger guy—”

“??? it’s nishimura riki.”

“that, yes. this crown looks like it’d be the perfect size for you. that’s suspicious. are you sure the suitcase isn’t yours?”

riki squints at you, then looks disdainfully down at the crown in your hands. “…not my style. and more importantly, i wouldn’t be caught dead with those … wigs … ever. my hair is very natural, thank you very much.”

you burst out laughing at that; maybe the hours of travelling induced sleep deprivation is finally catching up to you. riki rolls his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching upwards at your reaction.

both of you sink down to the floor in front of the open bag, knees just about brushing.

“what’s their story, do you think? whoever this suitcase belongs to.” you wonder aloud, after a beat.

“hm. i’d say they were a member of royalty with a deep love for waffles, bowling and plumbing. and a family history of male pattern baldness. just a guess.”

“or,” you begin solemnly, “someone pulling a medieval-themed heist … against a bowling league. the waffles were a heist snack and the sink was a spoil of the battle. a sign of our guy’s victory, if you will.”

riki nods in agreement, not even trying to hide his smile anymore, and it’s a little too successful in disarming you for someone who called you a thief merely minutes ago. “that makes perfect sense.”

you find yourself grinning back despite yourself. “come to think of it … this one guy on the plane was trying to recruit me as an investor in his yak wig business …”

exactly on cue, the office door creaks open by some divine intervention and you see outside the following events happen in rapid succession :

sunghoon, attempting to wrestle off a child who is resolutely clinging onto a “Stitch” from “Lilo & Stitch” cardboard cutout while simultaneously trying to reason with a man (is that mr.yak wig business seller himself?) and assure him that the airport staff are doing everything they can to find his precious suitcase.

and then telling him that no, sunghoon will not be investing in his business because frankly, it sounds like a pyramid scheme.

neither you nor nishimura riki think to put an end to the sheer chaos outside by simply telling the yak wig business man that his suitcase is, in fact, right here.

because, honestly, you couldn't care less about the suitcase anymore. let the airport staff figure that one out themselves.

you’re a bit too caught up having your little romcom moment with riki, after all. oops.

but hey, at least you’ll have a good laugh about all this at the coffee date he’s just asked you to tomorrow! ^-^

[ 𝑓𝗋𝑜𝗆 陰 ] : my longest drabble yet .. possibly my longest piece of writing in general ... my magnum opus, my baby, my child. i live love laugh this drabble. hi.

#niki x reader

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