o n e / t w o / t h r e e / f o u r / f i v e / s i x
summary: you’ve caught the eye of the campus fuck boy and you could only think of one way to get out of it.
word count: 2,310
a/n: and after a month, here’s another part of mmffyf! sorry it had taken so long. even in quarantine, i’ve been in a writing slump (stump?). i hope everyone has been well though! the comeback has come and gone; it was a great time. i changed how the story would go a few days ago and i’ll try to finish it within this month, at least. though this chapter seems like a filler to me? i hope you all still enjoy it! :D
Saturday morning.
And someone was groaning beside you.
The first thing you try is face burying into your pillow, and when that doesn't work, you turn to face the wall; but all your efforts couldn't block out the pitiful yet irritating sounds spilling from the man on your pull-out bed.
"Would you knock it off?" This was far from what you had imagined waking up to Jaebeom would be like.
"Bad morning to you too, sweetheart," he grumbles, and you hoist yourself out of bed to look for something to give him. "You're being too loud," you hear him groan.
You walk to and crouch beside him, aspirin in one hand and a half-full glass of water in the other. He gives the items a lazy look before noisily heaving himself to a sitting position and taking them. "Thanks," he mutters afterward and you go to wash the glass.
"Any plans for today?" you call out, sparing him a glance and immediately telling him not to lie back down.
He sighs. "My plan? It's to be with you."
"That's not a plan."
"It is now."
You hold his gaze for a while but pull away eventually, setting the glass on the dryer. "I liked you better when you informed me of your plans beforehand."
With a teasing smile, he goes, "Oh, so you like me?"
"That wasn't my point."
"It is now."
"It is too early to deal with you, Jaebeom," you groan, leaning on the counter to face him.
"It's never too early for you, babe." He winks and checks his phone. "Besides, it's 10:45." He stands up a bit too eager for someone who had just been whining over a hangover. "Let's have brunch. I know a place."
"That didn't sound like a question."
"It wasn't." You watch him fold the blanket you had given him the night before. "I want to pay you back," he explains, handing the neatly folded cloth to you then pushing the pull-out back in, "and I have to win you over too. So, while I go home to change," he looks you up and down and smirks, "you get ready."
"Hopefully you shower before changing," you comment in a defensive tone, trying not to blush from the way he had looked at you.
"If that's what you wish, my lady." He bows to complete the act then turns to take his jacket off the chair you had hung it on last night. Already heading toward the door, he calls to you, "I'll text you."
The moment the door clicks shut, you walk over to lock it.
And then you panic.
You don't even know what time it is.
Shower? Check. But do you smell good enough? You hope. Your clothes are a mess on your bed, your purse on the table, and you're trying your best at applying make-up; but all your movements cease the moment your phone notifies you of a text message.
Now, it is time.
When you walk out, you find Jaebeom waiting for you by his car, eyebrows furrowed from the sunlight only until he sees you; and then his eyes were as wide as they could be. "Good morning," he greets, eyebrows raised as he takes you in.
"I thought it was a bad morning though?"
He scoffs at your teasing and shakes his head, a smile gracing his lips, then he walks to the driver's seat. "Get in."
Jaebeom takes you to a quaint Japanese restaurant, claiming he needed their food and their food only. "The boys and I eat here a lot when we're hangover," he tells you while parking, "It's a special place for us so don't be surprised if you see some familiar faces."
"You were with them last night?"
"Of course."
"Then why did you leave them?"
"Because I was thinking of you."
For the second time today, you resist the urge to blush. "And what do I have to do with anything?"
"Everything." He stops the car and looks at you with fascination, as if it's obvious what he means and he's in disbelief of you not catching onto it. You frown at him and he just laughs it off, getting out of the car and rushing to open your door. He holds out his hand and you take it gratefully, then the two of you are inside.
The woman at the counter gives him a welcoming smile first but it changes into a teasing one upon seeing you. "Is this your girlfriend?"
"Not yet," he chuckles, smirking at you, and you're too awkward around strangers to elbow him in front of her. "Any of the boys here?"
"Bambam and Jackson came by a while ago," she replies, "Too bad you didn't catch them. Only the three of you last night?"
"Mark and Youngjae too, so watch out for them."
"And the other two?"
"Jinyoung said he had a lot of academics to deal with over the weekend and Yugyeom's been working on a new choreography."
"You boys always do go hard on anything you do." She smiles fondly and turns to you. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to take your time."
"It's fine!" you chime immediately, not wanting her to feel bad. "I was going over the menu anyway."
"We'll give it to you at 50% today," she says, "After all, you're the first lady Jaebeom has brought here for a long time."
You practically snap your neck to look at him. "I am?"
"I'll have my usual," he says and he asks you for your order as if you weren't staring at him with wide eyes. You tell him in a shocked mumble and he leads you away from the counter after then.
"You heard her, sweetheart," he goes, "We go hard in everything we do. Myself included." He wears a smug look on his face and you give him a disgusted look.
"I haven't even eaten and I already feel like throwing up."
"I don't think you would have said that last night."
"Nothing even happened last night!" You try not to sound disappointed as you take your seats but he's still playing with you. "You were the one who told us to stop," you huff, leaning back on the chair and crossing your arms.
"Answer me this," his arms are on the table and he's looking you in the eye, "Have you fallen for me already?"
You stare at him with your eyebrows knit together, realizing you didn't know what to say. Just when you've decided on 'no,' though, he continues, "See? So my mission isn't over yet, and I'm not taking short cuts."
"Would you do that for any other girl?" you ask, "Not take short cuts to get between their legs, I mean."
"Unless that any other girl proposes I make her fall for me first in the proper way?" He looks up when he pauses. "No."
He leans back and the two of you are quiet again, staring out through the window beside your table. And then: "It's true." You raise your eyebrows at him and he directs his gaze to you. "You're the second girl I've brought here."
"That's nice." Indifferent.
"The first one was my ex. First love and high school sweetheart," he continues and you don't want to seem to care too much but you're eager to know, "She moved away after graduation and we tried LDR but it didn't work out."
"Did you cheat?" you ask before you could even think and his eyes darkened in seconds.
"I didn't," he said coldly and you're about to apologize when he says, "but she did."
"Sorry." Sheepish. "Was she the one you were talking about before?"
He nods. "She was the start of it all, you know?" He looks down at his hands. "My fuck boy ways."
"You didn't want to feel alone in your bed, knowing she had shared hers with someone else," you say, recalling the day he had walked you to your dorm; the day you had kissed him for the first time.
"So do you still hate me for being like this?" His voice was heavy and as if he wants to cry, and you're ashamed to have asked something insensitive in the first place. Jaebeom catches on to your guilt, though, and smiles. "I wanted to tell you anyway.”
"It must be difficult to talk about."
"It is," he agrees, "but it would've been harder for me if you didn't know. You can't fall in love with a stranger."
"But you're not a stranger anymore," you say, "And I don't hate you."
"That's enough for me." Before he could speak even more, though, your food arrives. You thank the waiter for the meal and begin to eat in silence; and when you talk to each other again, it's just like your other lunch times, as if you hadn't just had a serious conversation, as if he hadn't just engraved himself even more in your heart.
You convinced him to buy groceries with you.
"You have a car anyway," you chatter as he rounds a corner to the store, "If you want to take me somewhere else, we can leave what we buy in the trunk."
"Baby girl, I would love to take you," he mutters, spared from a hit because he was driving.
"You know what I mean." You settle to narrow your eyes at him and he's suppressing a smile.
"Of course I do." An almost too long pause and then he adds, "Princess."
Because of that, you assigned him to push the cart as you fill it with your needs, vigilant to return anything he would put of his own. At one point, he had even said he was paying anyway, to which you replied: "I'm glad to have your word for it but that doesn't change a thing. Buy your groceries some time else." Despite your restrictions for him, though, the word 'domestic' had crossed your mind more than once throughout your time and your cheeks would heat every time it did.
You like being with him, you really do, but you can't help to fear too. When this game of yours ends and his mission is complete, what would be of the two of you?
You realize you had set yourself up for heartbreak, only asking for you to fall for him and not ensuring he should also for you. You had foolishly thought loving him would be enough; you didn't expect that, when you do start to love him, you would want him to love you back.
As you watch him pay for what you have bought, you realize you don't want your time together to end. You want him to love you back; you want him.
And that means…
"I hope you help carry these at least."
He pushes the cart toward you, all items placed neatly inside two of your eco bags and two plastics. You don't feel confident enough to look at him. "Is there something wrong?" he asks, concern evident, "Are you not feeling well? Should I carry them all instead?"
You shake your head and take a deep breath. "I'm fine," you bluff, meeting his eyes and smiling at him so he wouldn't worry, "I was just thinking."
"Of what?" The two of you start walking back to the parking lot.
"Our dinner." You don't say you just don't want to end the day yet but you hope he'll get the message. You know what would happen before you say goodbye. You know what you'll say and you know what you'll do; but you're afraid of the aftermath.
He brings the cart along as far as the shop would let him and you take two bags each to the car. "Would you like to eat out?"
You end up in your dorm once more, your groceries in his hands and a paper bag of your microwaveable dinner in one of yours.
"Whew," he whistles with his eyebrows raised. "Did a typhoon hit this room while I was away?"
His eyes are trained on your bed, where most of your wardrobe is haphazardly scattered on, and you just let the heat rise to your cheeks then, tired of fighting it down. "Ready the food and I'll ready the room?" you offer sheepishly and, to your relief, he just nods.
The two of you get to business - he sets the groceries on the counter while you clear your bed, and he puts out glasses and utensils as you wait for the food to heat. You work well as a pair, and you wish he sees that too.
When the two of you finish, you eat in silence, and you think he had caught on to the change in your actions and mood. You try to compose a speech in your head but you can't even gather all your thoughts.
What should you say?
You're glad he doesn't leave as soon as you've finished eating because you're tidying up and still nothing has come to mind. Should you just tell him that he had won? Or should you kiss him and get things over with? Do you prompt him for the conversation? Or do -
"(Y/N)?" The voice has you setting down the glass too fast and turning to him, finding him standing beside you. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," you say, looking away to finish washing the other glass. "Just -"
"Thinking?" he finishes and you hum, nodding your head. "Well, I was just thinking too."
You don't say anything in response, exerting all your focus in your task. It's when you've put everything in the dryer that he calls out your name once more. “(Y/N)." His voice is lower, less concerned and more serious, and you meet his gaze.
Hiii! Will you be posting an update to make me fall in love with you first soon? :) I just read everything and it is so good! I'm excited to read what happens next
hi! 👋☺️ i’m actually planning to update it some time this week (so hope for writer’s block not to get in the way 😋🙏) and i’m glad you’ve enjoyed it so far. 😳❤️ i hope the next one would be as good as the rest. 🥺🤞
Oh my godddd, this Jaebeom is so dangerous, I wouldn't trust him. For some reason I'm constantly waiting for his mask to fall or for him to screw everything big time. I'm so happy for these past 2 chapters, I hope you're having a really nice day.
hmmm let’s see 👀 i hope the next chapters would keep the momentum 🤨
I think Jaebum has this quality that just attracts you to him, and for me his rather brooding nature is appealing and makes you think of all sorts of scenarios. In my case it’s the more rated ones though. I also think it’s because out of the guys, he’s the one with the most masculine energy for me Your drabble requests are the shizz by the way 😏😏
“It’s too early.” + “I’m so tired.” + “I will not kiss you.”
a/n: i’m sorry for not writing much lately :(( i haven’t had enough focus and energy even if we’re in quarantine? nevertheless, [reqs are still open] i hope you all enjoy this and always stay safe! 💛
You could tell the bed had dipped lower than it did when you got on it last night, and there was a warmth beside you that hadn’t been there for a long time. The sound of soft breaths can be heard; the sun has only begun to rise.
A smile forms on your lips. This could only mean one thing.
Eagerly, you turn to your other side and you find yourself inches away from a sleeping man’s face. Cheeks squished against the pillow and hair a slight mess — it was a view you had missed waking up to.
You snuggle closer to him and press a kiss on his nose, to which he stirs and grumbles, “It’s too early, (Y/N). Go back to sleep.”
“I’d rather admire you.”
“Do it in your dreams.”
You keep your eyes on him though, and he whines. Frowns. Pouts. “I told you to do it in your dreams.”
“But my reality right now is better than my dreams,” you argue, pouting as well, “I missed you a lot, Youngjae.”
“Hm,” is what he says in response, but his arm comes to drape over you and pull you closer to him. “I’m so tired,” he whispers, and his eyes gradually open to meet yours. Half-lidded.
“I know.”
“And I fell asleep before I could brush my teeth — “
“But your teeth will always look pretty.”
“Still. I will not kiss you,” he says, eyes falling shut again, “Not yet.”
“It’s okay,” you whisper, “I’ll wait.”
“You always do.” A moment’s silence and you thought he’d fallen asleep.
“And for the record,” he says, and he feels you jump a bit in his arms. He smiles. “I missed you a lot too.”
you told me that you swear by the sacred moon above, the moon that paints the tops of fruit trees with silver. i wish i was your bird. who told you how to get here below my bedroom? it’s almost morning. i want to make you go but i’d only let you go as far as a spoiled child lets his pet bird go. he lets the bird hop a little from his hand and then yanks him back by a string. my body will be your sheath. rust inside my body and let me die. don’t swear by the moon. the moon is always changing. every month its position in the sky shifts. i don’t want you to turn out to be that inconsistent too. don’t swear by the moon. the moon is always changing.
o n e / t w o / t h r e e / f o u r / f i v e / s e v e n
summary: you’ve caught the eye of the campus fuck boy and you could only think of one way to get out of it.
word count: 1,969
Only when he calls out your name do you realize you’ve been watching him eat.
“Oh.” You straighten, tearing your eyes from him and turning to your food. “It’s just that… you eat with so much gusto. It makes anything you eat look delicious.”
“That’s because it is,” he says and, from his tone, you can imagine him smiling with his mouth full. There was no need to confirm but you look at him anyway, and your gaze lingers. “If you like it so much, maybe I should start a mukbang YouTube channel. Make you fall for me while eating in front of a camera,” he says with pride at the thought and he turns to you, “what about it?”
Jaebeom smiles at you teasingly and you, trying to feign indifference, poke at your food a bit before taking in a mouthful. “Yeah, you go do that.”
“How many points would I get?” he muses, “Or did I win enough when I kissed –“
“You didn’t,” you interrupt hurriedly, not wanting to be reminded of yesterday’s moment.
His lips of yours, his hold on you, his body pressed against yours – you remember every detail of it vividly. It had been driving you crazy, plaguing your thoughts and even your dreams, and it isn’t even 24 hours in the past.
“It seems like I did.” His voice snaps you out of your reverie, and you recognize the same smug tone he had used in bidding you farewell the day before. You shake the memory from your mind with a frown and resume eating but, even as you chew, it’s stuck on your brain. Stubborn, you think, just like him.
And you’re too slow to repress the smile at the thought.
“Was it that good?” you hear him say, incredulous, and you try not to flush under his playful inquisition. You can’t shy from him now.
“It’s just funny to me,” you begin, facing up but not facing him, “that you think I enjoyed one kiss from you.” You pick up a piece of meat. “I’ve had better.”
Jaebeom stiffens beside you but you’re suddenly taken by the taste of your food. You’re too distracted to notice the change in his tone. “Really?” he questions, “And with whom did you share that ‘better’ kiss?”
“Someone else,” you say, “Not a fuck boy. It was nice.”
“I thought we were over this,” he pouts and, in your mind, you liken him to that one emoji.
“We are,” you agree with a nod, “I’m just saying it was better because I was certain then that I was the only one he kissed that way. Note: exclusivity is sexy,” you add before digging in once more.
He’s silent for a while, then your peripherals note him looking away from you. “Well, what makes you think you aren’t the only one I kiss that way?”
“You’re a master at manipulation,” you tell him, “Fuck boys are. They can make you feel like you’re the only one they’ll be with just to get in bed with you but voila! The next day, they’re making someone else feel the same way.”
“In my defense, I didn’t screw someone new every day.”
“But you’ve been with a lot. I’d be surprised if you could say you haven’t used that method.” You look him in the eye, daring him to lie, and he finds himself unable to.
He looks away and sighs, “Fine.” Then, he meets your gaze again and sweetly asks, “Do I get points for saying the truth? Honesty is sexy too, right?”
You scoff and smile at the failed look of innocence on his face. “You’re funny.”
“Do I get points for that too? It’s one of my winning traits.”
The bell rings, signaling the end of his lunch, and you usher him away, “Get to class.”
“And leave you alone?” With a look of pain, he puts a hand on his heart. “I think not, or it would pain my heart to do so.” He looks away, distressed.
“You’d be feeling a different pain if Jinyoung catches you loitering,” you say, “He probably has your schedule mastered.”
“Oh, but he is my friend!”
“Alas!” you interject, adding your own theatric, “He who you’ve befriended is also a responsible student body president.”
“It’s no fun if you use drama that way,” he chides, pouting again, but he waves at you enthusiastically before leaving; and there was your fond smile again, watching him as he went.
Friday night and you’re thinking you should have taken up Jaebeom’s party invitation. Right now, that loud and crowded scenario appeals to you more than your readings.
Sure, you loved reading, but the rest of the week had been long. You’re exhausted so, finally, you decide to get some rest tonight. You slip the bookmark in between the pages, stand to yawn and stretch; then a knock comes from your door the moment you’ve lifted your comforter.
You groan and drop the blanket in irritation, eyebrows coming together – you didn’t have a roommate and you weren’t expecting anyone. Besides, who would come over this late? You run through a list of possibilities as you near the door and you jump a step back at the sound of another knock. Holding the doorknob, you wonder if you should have brought something to protect yourself, and you open entry as if you were ripping off a bandage.
“How did you know my room number?”
“The same way I discovered the perfect place for our first date.” You frown at the man standing on the other side. “I did my research, (Y/N),” adds Jaebeom, returning your frown, “You’re an interesting person.”
“And you are a stalker.” You debate calling a dorm authority but he falls against the doorframe and you had to ask, “Are you drunk?”
“Maybe,” was his simple answer and, before he falls forward and on his face, you catch him, staggering back at his weight. “This was the first place that came to mind.”
“But you haven’t been here before!” you exclaim. It’s your instinct to heave him into your room.
“I was thinking about you.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have!” Your face flushes though. “Bed or bathroom?”
“I already threw up earlier, don’t worry, and I got some coffee on the way too – ”
“As if those could solve anything.”
“It helped me get here.”
“Don’t tell me you drove – “
“I ran,” he says and you almost drop him from the shock. “I’ll take some water.”
“You mean a lot of water.” You help him sit by your desk before rushing to get him some. “I don’t know why,” you say while filling a mug, “but I always thought you’d be good at holding your liquor.”
“I am,” he says before downing the entire thing, his body visibly relaxing after, but you still refill it for him. “I just got carried away tonight.”
“No chick to take home?”
“I didn’t want to.” He finishes a second and a third round then he stands, eyes searching for a moment before he walks – a bit more steadily now – to the sink.
“I’ll take care of it,” you offer in a small voice but he waves you off, mumbling something about knowing the chore would sober him up. And so, you watch him work – well, try as much as you can to view past his broad shoulders.
When he turns back to you and catches you staring, you straighten like a deer caught in headlights. “You… didn’t want to?”
He gives you a long, undecipherable look and you seem to shrink underneath his gaze, mentally beating yourself up for choosing the wrong ice breaker.
“Someone once told me exclusivity was sexy,” he says after a while, smiling and walking toward you until you’re looking up at him in the dark. “Do I get points for that?” he asks lowly and you don’t know how to respond. You can’t.
And you don’t even get a chance to, because his lips are on yours and, successfully and quite literally, he’s taking your breath away.
When he pulls away, he doesn’t leave much space for you to breathe properly. “Jaebeom…”
“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours, a hand on your nape and another around the space behind your ear; and it’s a cliché suddenly fresh to you. He kisses you again, briefer, and you look from his eyes to his lips.
Then you can’t wait any longer and you tiptoe to kiss him, and he holds it a bit longer this time; he holds you. In between kisses, he would pant, “You’re the only thing on my mind.” He kisses you. “The only one.” You kiss him. “God, you’ve fucking consumed me, (Y/N).” And your hands leave his shoulders to roam his body.
With a hand on your waist, he lessens whatever distance is left between the two of you and there it is again – his body pressing against yours, providing you the same warmth it did when the two of you had first kissed. Some seconds ago, he leaned his forehead on yours and you can feel his furrowed brows as he takes your lips with all he can; you’d be falling backward if he hadn’t placed a hand on your back, supporting you as his passion dips you down.
Jaebeom alternates between slow, deep kisses and brief, consecutive ones; and you giddily think to yourself that this is enough. Kissing him as moonlight streams through your window. Kissing him – it’s enough. You like it, you like the feeling, you like his kisses.
And, you begin to think, but he had pulled away and he hadn’t come back.
You open your eyes slowly and find him looking at you intently though his eyes are half-lidded. “Let’s stop here.”
“What?” You frown. You realize then that he could have went beyond kisses, and you would have let him; then you’re even more confused. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
He shakes his head. “I want you to fall for me,” he whispers, detaching himself from you completely.
“But the whole point of the mission was to make me fall for you so you could–“ you shrug, trying to seem unfazed “–you know.”
You feel his eyes on you but the weight of his gaze tells you nothing. Only after a long silence does he say, “I’m tired.”
And, just like that, your own exhaustion returns to you. “Are you still going?” you ask, a good host once more, “You could stay.”
“Where would I stay?”
“My bed has a pull-out.” You rush to it and call out, “Come help me with this.”
He does and, together, the two of you produce a sleeping space for him. “Are you sure I could stay?” His eyebrows are raised unsurely and you wave him off, taking one of your pillows and setting it for him.
“We’re friends, Jaebeom,” you go, but you look away when you add, “I think.”
“(Y/N) – “
“Whatever we are,” you say dismissively, “I think you should stay the night. I don’t like the thought of you passing out in some public area.”
His response is delayed again but he thanks you. He waits for you to settle before he lies down, and you think he’d gone the moment his head hit the pillow. Nevertheless, you wait some more time before you slip out and quietly rummage your drawer for a spare blanket. When you go to put it on him, you can’t help but notice how peaceful he looked, and he had wrapped himself in the warm cloth so quickly your hand almost got caught in his movement.
Chuckling softly, you tuck yourself back in, falling asleep with the hope you’d wake up to him.
Tagged by @writingsfromtheseaside and whooooooaaa but I can assure u that this is an appropriate reaction to seeing jacob nakedly do the 100 ways challenge. No it’s not. But yes it is.
a/n: to give some context, they’re time travelers. anyway, send more drabble reqs if you enjoyed this one! :D
“Wait,” he says but you don’t stop. The next thing you hear are footsteps and him calling out your name, “Don’t leave like this.”
“Let go of me, Youngjae.”
“I can explain,” he pleads, and his voice raises with his emotion, “Listen to me!”
“That’s the only thing I’ve been doing ever since you pulled me along on your adventure,” you argue, “You have never listened to me, Youngjae. All you care about is your fucking honor.”
“Which you will share when we return to the present—“
“What if we don’t return?” you go, “What then?”
“We will return, (Y/N),” he says, “I promise.”
“You’re promising?” you scoff in disbelief, “You, who has led us to our deaths more times than I could count?”
“But we didn’t die!”
“Only because you have a great team,” you counter, “A team loyal enough to protect you even when your only loyalty is to yourself and your project.”
He opens his mouth to protest but you face him with all your body and, in the calmest tone, go, “I hope you learn from this when you’re finished.”
“What?”
“Your team isn’t just a backup; they’re individuals. Skilled and golden-hearted individuals,” you say, “Don’t ever forget that and don’t ever disregard them again.”
“(Y/N)—“
“This is where our paths separate,” you tell him, “I’m going back. You finish whatever it is you want to accomplish and bring the team back to their families safely, do you understand?”
“You’re overreacting,” he hisses, “All because I was romancing a local?”
“The team put their romances aside for this.”
“Stop hiding behind the team, (Y/N),” he says, eyes narrowing, “Why are you really leaving?”
“Because you’re too self-absorbed and ambitious to care about the people around you,” you hiss, “and I’d rather go home safely and in shame than stay with you in the past, constantly in danger of death and heartbreak.”
“Heartbreak?”
“Thinking you would ever care about anyone other than yourself,” you say, looking away, “Hoping you’d one day find me as someone you can rely on instead of pushing me away whenever we come too close.”
“You should’ve kept it professional, (Y/N),” he chides, eyebrows furrowed. You turn around, hoping to conceal your tears.
“You’re right. I should have,” you say, “I realize that now.”
“But if you think I’m selfish, what did you like about me?”
“You’re a good person under all that pride,” you say simply, “and I hope you show the team that when I’m gone.”
Youngjae had never had someone confess to him the way you did, and he’d never been left before. As he watched you walk away — you, who had always put everyone else before yourself — he felt his anger dissipating.
Then he was running. “(Y/N)!”
You don’t stop to hear him out this time, but you keep your pace. He calls your name out again just as you duck behind a house and, when he catches up, you were no longer there.
“Shit!” he curses, kicking a crate hard enough for it to break. Youngjae leans against the wall and sinks to his feet, head buried in his hands, and he recalled all the times you had spent together.
You had listened to him alright, and you had listened to him even in his late night vulnerability. You had paced to catch up with his long strides, basking in the moonlight and the silence as the rest of the group chattered away behind you. You had shared with him everything you had, everything you could give; you had smiled at him without a secret agenda, laughed and cried with him.
And, in his those final moments, he couldn’t even tell you he needed you. He didn’t know.
So he walked back to the team alone, quite literally left in the past by the only woman who had ever truly loved him.
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
germansingergirl
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
janainaart
titsay
