[4:34am] “Jongup, this is silly,” you huff, frustrated at your own inability to follow the steps correctly, but happy to hold him close.
He shushes you gently, stroking your waist and helping you sway in time to the slow music. “It’s not. If you practice with me now, you’ll ace it on the day. I promise.”
“But I can’t get the steps right,” you mutter a little sadly.
Jongup leans in and kisses the crook of your neck ever so tenderly, lingering a little longer than he’d like to admit. “What if,” – another kiss, this time higher – “I kiss you,” – behind your ear – “to the tempo of the music? Would that help?”
You smile and nod as he nestles into your neck, peppering kisses all over your skin. “It would help a lot.”
Genre/warnings: fluff, university AU, post-university AU, shy!reader
Summary: Developing a crush and falling in love for the first time was scary af, but he knew you weren’t scared of him. More of the possibility of screwing your chanced with him up
(A/N) This is not entirely, but somewhat partially inspired by The Neighbourhood's song "Scary Love", as I'm slowly starting to psych myself up for attending their concert this week and this is one of my favorites off of their most recent album.
Everything seemed so, so scary in the beginning.
First, it was the sudden realization that your eyes trailed over to where he sat at in the very back of the room way too often. Way too often for it to be considered an accident or an unintentional amount of looks, at least. Each time, he wouldn't notice anything to be off, would just occasionally turn his head when talking to a coursemate or when in need for peaking at somebody else's notes. Completely unaware of somebody watching him subtly.
At those rare moments when his head somehow shot into your direction, your eyes would go wide and you'd look elsewhere. Sometimes it resulted in brief eye contact before you'd frantically turn your head, but you assured yourself that it was fine, he wouldn't think anything of it. He didn't know you. He probably wouldn't think that anybody he didn't properly know would notice him in first place.
And that would scare you. The fact that he might notice that you'd noticed him in this absurd mass of people.
Then there was the fact that everything about him seemed to spark some sort of interest in you recently. There wasn't anything particularly noteworthy about him, or at least it seemed like there shouldn't be, since he was rather quiet, not too quiet but not a loud conversationalist either, often passive when it came to social interactions or activities, without any noteworthy study achievements under his belt, without much intention to shine among his fellow coursemates. His face, though not lacking defined lines and magnificently sharp bone structure, according to beauty standard, wasn't the one of a model's, and his slightly shortish frame seemed to always disappear in the masses.
Still, he was noticeable. He may not be everyone's cup of tea, but he certainly had a charm to him that others did not possess, even when he was showing up to lectures in stretched out sweatpants, oversized tent-like shirts and a bedhead. He was your cup of tea. It was hard to tear your eyes away from the sight.
And that's what truly scared you. The fact that one second you were trying to get by with your life, trying not to drown, trying to make yourself believe that everything was alright even though you knew it certainly wasn't, and the next thing you know you're daydreaming about him. About him coming up to you, smiling a little. Sheepishly sliding his fingers in between yours as the fingertips of his other hand tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before caressing your cheek. Him, after seeing you curled pouty lip and tired eyes, just cradling the back of your head with a large, warm hand, and pulling you into his chest, or, well, shoulder - you always tended to imagine him a little taller than he actually was, but only by accident, and re-imagined everything the second you spotted your mistake. And from then on the daydream sort of evaporated. One moment he was there, holding you tightly and calmly like an island in the middle of an upcoming storm, and the next moment you were back in class, alone.
You never dared to imagine more than that. For various reasons.
Thing is, you felt like you were obligated to not need anybody's comfort. You'd lived for so long without it that you felt it was only logical to go on that way. It was stupid, really, the way most humans were made to long for attention even when they could live without it just fine. You fell into that little tiny part of society that longed for something they had restrained themselves away from. That was your everyday.
But the warm feeling that spreads across your cheeks when you're walking through the hallway right behind him or the thumping of your heart when he was near, your mind telling you not to look despite knowing you wouldn't listen anyways - it was all there. The only signs that were required for you to realize.
It was scary, developing feelings for somebody. Especially when it was your first time doing so, and when that somebody was as far away from you as Pluto was from the Sun. Light years away, light years ahead. Ethereal and unreachable and just an object to admire.
Sadly, admiring him from afar was a bit more challenging than first anticipated. What did you expect from somebody with zero high school sweetheart experience, not even a clue how it was to a find interest in somebody? A few unaware stares and shy remarks later, word started to spread around campus that (Y/N) had a crush on Jongup.
But it wasn't supposed to be this way. No one should've known about it. It was your secret. You weren't right for him anyways, what was there so special about you that he could possibly take interest in? Deep down in your heart, you wanted to believe it was nonsense. Partially at least. You didn't want anything to do with him. He stressed you out more than anything, and you were alright with just admiring him from afar. You didn't even want to imagine him hearing about the rumors in first place.
He did. And he shrugged them off. And it broke your heart.
One would think he'd have to react somehow, but he didn't. The naive little part of you was devastated not to see him glancing, not to see him approaching, but what did you expect? There was no obligation for him to do so if he wasn’t interested. He still acted like you didn't exist. He only knew your name. He didn't seem like he needed to know more than that. Although maybe he just didn't believe everything he heard.
Days went on. So did weeks, which turned into months, which ended up being another whole semester. Admiring from afar had become your specialty. Even far away at home and parted from everything and everyone while on break, he remained in your head for the whole time, somewhere at the back of your mind, the image of his strong arms wrapped around your waist being too addictive to be left alone and forgotten on nights when you couldn’t fall asleep. The longing you felt the second you saw him on the first day of the new hellish semester almost seemed desperate. It was desperate. You wanted him to notice you so bad.
And it was silly, how easily things sometimes came to be, but he did. Unpurposefully.
"Can I sit here?"
His voice, coming from nowhere, startled you enough to jump at it a little. Your eyes eventually found his, and with a pause that had started heading into the awkward direction, you finally nodded, realizing what he wanted.
(Y/N), talk, goddamnit.
"Yeah, s-sure."
Nice one. Two words, one stutter. Why can't you ever keep it together?
The little tingle in your voice came by him unnoticed, or at least he didn't throw you a glance or rethink his decisions of his today's location. With less grace than imagined, he plopped down into the chair next to yours, rummaging through his bag. In the corners of your eyes, you scanned the area where his usual seat was at. Some other bloke had comfortably nested in there, and by the arms carelessly thrown behind his head and the loud conversations he lead with nearby sitting people, it didn't look like he'd leave anytime soon.
"Crap..."
Before more curses could fall from Jongup's lips, the professor asked for everybody's attention, and he stopped fiddling around. With a tossed open notebook lying in front of him, he narrowed his eyes into the distance, his head resting on his arm. His lip having curled into a little unintentional pout and his cheek a little puffy.
Ten minutes in you realized he didn't bring anything to write with. Was it so hard to ask?
You slid a pen over to him without saying anything. Sort of hoping he wouldn't notice first, and eventually would just look down to the object neatly sitting in front of him, pretend that it had been there all along. Would take it and not say a word.
His eyes did register the movement across the table though. The look he gave you was grateful. A bit of that.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Well done. No stutter this time around.
Fifteen minutes more into the lecture you felt like he was watching you. And not just at moments, but all the time. It made you uneasy and before you knew it, you’d visibly stiffened up. Jongup raised a brow.
"I'm blind like a bat," he explained without much more to it, sheepishly poking at your fingers that were laid across some more words he wanted to copy into his notebook, "And forgetful of my glasses. I hope you don't mind."
He’s just copying your notes, take it easy. Just the notes.
Forgetful of his glasses.. Amongst other things. He was such a mess, but still caused all these feelings inside your chest, so you simply nodded and shoved your notebook a little closer to his side. Another quiet thank you escaped his lips, but you didn't want to respond.
It was scary. How nervous he got you by just sitting next to you. How nervous you felt to even open your mouth around him.
This became a daily thing. He would come, say a quiet hello. Sometimes he'd forget stationery and you'd pass it to him silently and generously. His glasses were more of a myth than an everyday occurrence, but the few times you'd actually seen them on his nose, they'd looked gloriously comfortable, suiting him well. The nervousness you felt around him didn't substitute or cease.
He'd stated your handwriting was better than the one of his previous desk buddy. once he'd even said he felt like he could concentrate here better than there, since you were completely silent and didn't constantly bug him. That’s why he’d apparently come to sit here. Fair point. Conversation really was kept at a minimum for various reasons, and for the better, you thought.
He seemed to hold similar beliefs. Until one day.
The note had appeared on your notebook randomly. As you glanced down at it in question, you were certain it hadn't been there just a moment ago, and threw the girl to your right a questioning look. A forced caught from the left made you jump a little. It seemed as if he wanted to tell you something with it. Cautiously, your fingers trailed over the folded piece of paper and opened it up, not looking over to him.
Jongup's scribbly handwriting was messily covering the page.
"Is that assignment due to next Tuesday? Did I hear correctly?"
Wasn't it easier to just ask you, not scribble a note? Raising your brow at him, you didn’t get a reply. He was looking right ahead, pretending to pay attention... Pretending, because the corners of his mouth were lifted in a little cheeky smirk, and you knew he was silently waiting for your reaction.
You inked your reply right underneath his question before passing it back to him. The next string of text was passed to you less than two minutes later.
And that's how it started.
Scribbly back-and-forth talk was comfortable for both of you. It didn’t really bother you to study, kept you entertained every free minute, but more than that, you could finally talk to him without constantly feeling too nervous to tie two words together.
Pages and notes started becoming too complicated. One day he showed up with an extra notebook, just for the talks. That notebook seemed to be the only thing consistent with him - he could forget everything, just not this. Because, for an odd reason, that would mean that your conversation would be cut short. And it had become a comfortable part of everyday life neither of you wanted to miss out on.
And it was scary, to start talking to him. But his method of doing it eased the situation.
It was a regular Friday afternoon. Last lecture before another weekend would roll around the corner. Your eyes registered Jongup’s movements, his pen once again inking words on a page of your conversation notebook. You let him finish his business, waited for him to sit back against the chair. As the professor’s monologue ceased and he started rummaging for some papers he was in need of in order to explain the final part of the topic, you let your eyes wander across the page.
“Why don’t you ever talk to me?”
It was so straightforward it made your heart race again. Jongup rarely asked anything. You looked over to him, wanting to open your mouth, wanting to get out some sort of sound. It didn’t happen. You lowered your eyes again, gulping down a knot that hat built in your throat. It felt different when you were talking to him through the notebook. The lined pages provided some sort of comfort and safety than an actual conversation didn’t. It was less open, less vulnerable.
You simply tapped at the page, to which he briefly looked into your eyes before leaning back up front. It was so quick, you didn’t anticipate the motion in the least. The moment you realized how close he was now, you instinctively pulled away a little.
“No, I mean as in actually talking. Why don’t you?”
He looked up to you again, seeming closer than before. Had he moved? Had he leaned in more? You felt too afraid to look away, too nervous to keep staring. He felt the anxiety coursing through your veins from a mile away. Practically heard your heart thumping against your chest. Yet he didn’t let up.
“Is it because you’re too shy?”
He didn’t look up, just paused after every written line. You remained quiet.
“Is it because you stutter every time you say something to me?”
You closed your eyes briefly, wanting to curse. He did notice. All this time, he had noticed and knew it. Why did he pretend he didn’t?
“Is it because you think I’m not alright with it?”
Would he be alright though? Wouldn’t it be annoying?
“Are you nervous around me?”
Nearby students started chatting quietly. Briefly glancing at the clock, you figured it was near end of the lecture. He was right. He always got you feeling nervous.
“Scared of me?”
Conversation from all around became louder. The professor was saying his final words for the day, about to dismiss everybody and wish them a hardworking and productive weekend. But you couldn’t possibly listen. Not now, in this situation.
“Do you like me?”
It honestly felt like your heart was about to stop. It was too much.
Before you noticed it, you were shoving your things away into your messenger bag. It was too much. He wasn’t supposed to know, but he knew. He wasn’t supposed to bring it up, because you’d grown used to just admiring him from afar. This Jongup that had cornered you today demanding for answers and the one you usually talked to through the notebook were two different people.
“Wait.”
His hand landed on your upper arm the very moment you rose from your chair and were literally about to run, his voice lingering in the little space above your heads for longer. Most people had left the room by now. You felt the palms of your hands covering in a thin layer of sweat as you slowly sat back in your chair, folded your arms over your lap and watched him grabbing his pen again.
He was writing for quite a while, during which you simply anxiously sat and waited with your eyes glued to your lap. And then, he closed the notebook. Looked back at you. Shoved it in front of you and stood up, leaving you with it. His fingers brushing down your arm gently before pulling away as he left you sitting there completely alone.
For the whole day you tried to forget about the notebook, but couldn’t. Curiosity was gnawing at you, and you finally caved in the moment you walked through your dormitory’s door, propping down on the couch and anxiously flipping through the pages.
There was so much conversation. With your heart beating immensely fast, you found the page he’d scribbled on today.
“Are you nervous around me?”
“Scared of me?”
“Do you like me?”
You stared at the bottom of the page, afraid to flip it over. It was scary, how much you feared he might write you off. How much you feared he might not sit next to you next Monday. How much you wanted him to.
Take a deep breath. Flip it over.
“Because I like you. A lot. I could write about it but I’d most definitely run out of pages, and we’d have to sit here for long. Until sunrise. And then some more, because I have a lot to say.”
It was so scary, to meet him the very next evening after you’d read this over and over again for several times, trying to reassure yourself that it wasn’t a bad joke or a blunt lie. But with a deep breath, you showed up at his dorm room’s door. In two hours time you were walking down nameless nightly streets hand in hand. In another hour conversation was a fluent thing that seemed to never have been missing in first place. In two more hours you were kissing right under the stars.
And it was scary too, but his soft lips moved against yours with such ease and grace that it felt like gravity had given up on the two of you, and you were floating somewhere mid-air in time and space, not belonging to a certain time frame or surroundings. Just his arms. The same arms you’d been wrapped up in all of your daydreams. Same arms that had locked you up safely in them because he knew. He knew you were afraid, but not of him. Just genuinely afraid of doing something wrong, because you wanted this so much, but just didn’t know how to do it.
He never took it for granted and always made it his priority to make you feel safe in your actions. And that’s how the fears started to cease.
Now, more than just a few years down the line, you looked back at that time with the fond smile of all playing across your lips. The photographs you’d finally finished sorting were now sitting in a fresh, new photo book, and you rose from your comfortable position on the bed, heading towards the commode to store it away in a safe place.
The front door creaked open and closed with a loud thud. Your smile didn’t fade as you instinctively headed for the bedroom door, and then to the hallway, running a hand through your messy hair.
Memories kept flooding you. Of all those times when he said it was alright, of all those times when he mended your worries and calmed your nerves. All those times he took your shaky fingers in between his and told you that you couldn’t do wrong, all those times you were uncertain he said that he’d lead, and all you had to do was follow. All your past and your present, everything that would follow.
“Hey,” he instinctively smiled a little as he saw you appearing in the hallway, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacked before he turned back to you, his eyes softly gazing you up and down. Your fingertips ghosted over his cheek before wrapping around the nape of his neck, almost getting tangled up in the collar of his shirt. It was the ring’s fault, you thought.
You’d told him that the engagement ring was way too big already dozens of times, but he said that no other ring he’d ever seen was worthy of being put on your finger. You remember the way you cried when he put in on that same finger for the first time, remembered how your hands kept trembling until he took them in his own warm ones and held them tightly. How you choked up and he hugged you, chuckling at your outburst of emotions. There was nothing to cry about, he reassured. You could continue being happy from then on.
That was two years ago.
Your lips locked with his gently, like they did back then. Like they always did. His hand trailed down your arm, down your shoulder before finally hooking around your waist. You still felt the cold trail his wedding ring left across your skin, and smiled at that as well.
The wedding was teary too, and despite all that, you remember how you couldn’t stop smiling. It was the happiest day of your life. With all your friends, all your relatives, a beautiful beach, a blown-off into the water veil, a cake-faced Jongup sharing his toothy and slightly crooked smiles with you, a night of laughing and opening presents and cuddling into the sunrise. Breakfast in bed. You calling him hubby for the first time and him making a grimace. Those things started back then and haven’t ceased yet.
That was a year ago.
“How are you feeling?”
You chucked a little over his never-fading worry. But he wasn’t the only one who was worried, through for the first time in your life, you felt like you were less worried about something than him. Even if it probably should be the other way around.
“You keep asking the same question all over again.. I’m fine, Uppie, not any different from normal and usual. You worry too much.”
His large, warm hand gently rested against your middle, his eyes immediately obtaining a certain spark as his forehead pressed against yours and he looked down. You hadn’t announced it to anyone yet, not your friends or relatives or anyone, because you were still in the stage of trying to believe it yourselves. The gentle, still barely-there curve that was slowly forming where his palm laid now was real, and it was of most importance. It was so small still, so unnoticeable, sometimes he asked himself if it was maybe just a figment of his imagination. But there was proof, and more important than that, he could feel it. A new life starting to blossom right there, one he was responsible for. One he wanted to take care of.
“I have all the rights to worry,” he answered quietly, smiling as he looked back up to meet your eyes, “It’s a new experience for me too, I have all the rights to be worried about you and our little bean.”
Memories. Memories of the ever-so-brave Jongup and the always slightly scared you arose and didn’t leave. You felt a certain warmth spreading across your chest as you looked back at him, back at the man who had given his all to you. His youth and his time, his efforts and his resources, his love, for god’s sake. His back to hide behind, his chest to bury your nose in, his hand in marriage, and so much more than that.
“Does it scare you? The uncertainty of the future? The changes we’re about to experience?”
You’d expected him to catch onto the reference, to laugh at it a little perhaps. But instead, he simply bit his lips and nodded, staying untypically serious.
Yes, he was somewhat scared of the future. But more than that, he was absolutely thrilled for it.
“But I don’t mind being scared, because I’m with you. And you constantly give me all the courage I’ll ever need.”
A/N: Hi! So this is really short and I hope you enjoy Anon.
You were getting ready to go visit Jongup at practice. You put up some comfy clothes before going to McDonalds to grab some drinks, burgers and fries for both you and Jongup. You knew he would be excited to see the food at least.
Before you know it you are at the dance studio. You slowly walk into the building and look through the glass door to find the one Jongup was in.
Just your luck, he was in the last practice room in the long corridor. You watch him through the glass door for a few minutes.
He was in a t-shirt and some comfortable pants, covered in a thin layer of sweat as he moved around the room in ease. He looked graceful as he danced without a care in the world.
He looked beautiful.
You snap out of your thoughts and then slowly enter the practice room, quietly so you don’t distract him. You then stand at the back of the room until he finishes the choreography he was doing and then he turns around to greet you with a bright smile.
“Hey!” he says happily and you smile back.
“Hey, yourself”, you say as you walk towards him.
The smile is still on his face as you walk towards him. His hands automatically wrap around your hips. He gives you a quick kiss and you cringe a little as he was still sweating.
He laughs as he sees you move away a little. Then he leans in and gives you more quick kisses on your cheek.
“Oh, stop it!” you say and wipe your face and Jongup continues to laugh at you.
You can’t help but laugh too.
“Stop now or no McDonalds”, you say and he stops.
You laugh again and push away from him and he lets you go. You then lift the bag of McDonalds bag and his smile gets wider.
“I knew that would get your attention”, you say and he just nods.
“I hope you are hungry”, you say.
“Always when it comes to McDonalds”, he says and you laugh.
The two of you walk towards the sofa at the back of the room and both of you get comfortable. He looks like an excited kid as you had him the food and you watch him eat just as excitedly.
“What?” he asks with a mouthful of food and you laugh again.
“Nothing, just eat”, you say and he just shrugs and continues to eat.
Yes, drabbles, anon!! I’m so glad you’re as excited as I am! I hope you like what I came up with for your 4D man!
Genre: Library!AU/Fluff
Pairing: Jongup x You
By Admin B
Every single day he came into the library.
And every single day he had McDonald’s.
Surprisingly, there was no rule against bringing in food or drink, as long as you didn’t sit at one of the computers. You figured since it was a college library, the dean realized students would be both a) spending a lot of time in the library and b) hungry.
But... seriously? Bringing McDonald’s into the library every day?
That was just... weird.
And it also made you wonder how the guy was as fit as he was? I mean, obviously, you’d never seen him without his shirt on or anything (although, you’d definitely imagined it before - wait, what?), but you could tell the dude was pretty ripped.
Anyway.
Here he was again, in the library with his McDonald’s bag.
But... the real kicker was... he didn’t do anything else in here besides eat.
He didn’t study, he didn’t check out any books, he didn’t talk to anyone, he didn’t even look at his phone. He just ate.
You were truly not one to judge because college could be rough. You understood that. But, apparently, today was the day you couldn’t stand it any longer.
Your curiosity was just too strong.
So you pushed yourself away from the help desk and quietly made your way over to his table. You plastered a smile on your lips as you slid into the chair next to him, clearing your throat to announce your intention to speak.
“Hi,” you began in the softest voice you could muster.
“Hey,” he replied before popping a french fry into his mouth.
“I’m sorry, I’m just... You’re not in trouble or anything, I was just wondering... Why do you come in here every day to eat?”
He furrowed his brow and squinted his eyes at you while he chewed, and when you thought he was going to answer you, he simply took a bite of his hamburger.
...Okay, this was awkward.
But you still waited because... well, you just wanted to know!
“I like the peace and quiet while I eat,” he finally explained after swallowing. “And I like seeing you.”
Your eyebrows shot halfway up your forehead.
“...O--oh,” you stammered. “O...kay...”
He nodded once before taking another bite of his hamburger, and you took that as your cue to leave him alone.
But just as you’d started walking away, he called out to you.
“I’m Jongup, by the way.”
You turned on your heel to face him again, lifting your hand in an awkward wave because you were still very taken aback from what he’d said.
“See you tomorrow!” he smiled.
“See you... tomorrow...”
Well, okay then. Not what you were expecting, but... I mean, you were kind of flattered.
Because he was super handsome.
So... yeah.
Master list // RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins
Welcome to the first part of my little B.A.P. Halloween-themed-series. Over the next few days I will upload a chapter per member (so 6 overall) that is somehow related to Halloween. Happy reading Halloween! Inspired by @rosegukk and her Halloween Drabbles. (Be sure to check them out!)
Summary: Your first Halloween together should be memorable. And even if you haven't planned anything out of the ordinary, a romantic-creepy evening quickly turns into a real nightmare.
Turning from one side to the other, you looked critically at your reflection in the mirror, standing in your bedroom. You've never been really good at planning your own Halloween costume, but this time you were kind of happy with it. Maybe because you and your boyfriend decided to wear costumes with masks, so you wouldn't have to work hours and hours on a creepy make-up that would only end up being creepy because you failed miserably.
So Jongup came up with the idea of dressing up as a purge-couple and you simply loved that idea. You chose an sexy white dress-costume with lots of fake blood on it, some matching high heels and with that scary mask you really looked like you wanted to join purge night. It was simple, but perfect.
As the doorbell rang, you literally jumped downstairs to open the door. You simply loved Halloween as much as your boyfriend did, so you've been waiting all day for the first trick-or-treaters to appear at your door. Your Mask was in your hair because you didn't want to scare those poor children too much. But as you opened, there was somebody else. Jongup.
“Wow! That costume really is convincing. You might terrify a few too many children” you chuckled, while you sized him up. He was wearing a nice suit that perfectly matched his body shape and even with that much fake blood spread all over, he simply looked gorgeous. The fake weapon in his hand looked damn real, so did the blood. “What are you doing here so early?”
As he removed the mask he was giving you his unique smile, that melted your heart every single time. ”I wanted to see you, I couldn't wait any longer!” He looked directly into your eyes and you blushed a little. “Babe, you look stunning!” And with that he pulled you close to deep kiss you.
A soft breeze came up, tickling your neck while you were kissing, and caused you goose bumps. It was unusual warm for this time of the year all day long so you didn't really knew where that breeze was coming from. The next second it was gone and you didn't think about it anymore.
You decided to watch a movie as it was too early to go to the party. Besides, you liked the idea of being alone with Jongup for a longer time and watch some movies to get the real Halloween feeling.
At some point the doorbell rang again and Jongup jumped off of the couch and pulled down his mask with a mischievous grin on his face. As he grabbed his bloody weapon you just looked up at him, frowning. Poor children, you thought.
“Come on, just let me scare a few trick-or-treaters” he begged and you just laughed.
“You're going to horrify them!”
“It'll build character.” And with that, he left the living room to open the door. You heard the kids laugh and some amused cries and you just shook your head while you tried to picture Killer-Jongup in front of these poor kids. But it was Halloween after all, so the kids were probably prepared for something like that.
During the evening you took turns to open the door for the children and when the first movie was over, you went to the terrace. It was already dark and without the bright full moon in the sky you wouldn’t have seen your hand in front of your eyes. It was the perfect Halloween night.
“Wow, the moon looks beautiful tonight” you said deep in thoughts so you didn't see the smirk on your boyfriends face.
“Thanks.”
You looked at him wondering, since it took you a while to understand that joke. Then you laughed and slapped him playfully, because even if he really was beautiful, you didn't mean it that way. And of course he knew that.
Jongup wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer to him while he was looking deep into your eyes. “I really enjoy this evening.” You blushed a little and a big smile grew on your face. It was your first Halloween together and you were hoping it would be memorable.
“Me too” you said, leaning over to place a soft kiss on his lips. From the corner of your eye you saw a strange frame but as you looked at it, it was gone. Your eyes widened while you pulled away from Jongup.
“Something wrong?”
“I thought I saw… nevermind.” Maybe your imagination played tricks on you or something, but it looked like someone was watching you. Only for a second.
“Halloween's really getting to you, huh?” he said chuckling while his embrace tightened around you.
You just smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again and to forget about that strange feeling building up in your stomach. Something definitely was wrong, but you tried to ignore that bad feeling. And feeling Jongup's body so close helped you to calm down again very fast.
Your eyes were closed while you just enjoyed the moment being so close to him and so did he. His hand stroke your back and soon everything was okay again. That's when he whispered something in your ear, that you didn’t quite get.
“Mmm, I appreciated that little murmuring you did in my ear” you said, opening your eyes again just to freeze in your movement.
“That wasn't me.”
There was this frame again. And this time it stayed.
love the cheeky lil’ moon emoji you attached there🌙 I’m about to get my second tattoo done sometime in the near future and I’m hella excited! For the drabble, I went with the tattooed significant other trope, but if you pictured something else, let me know!~
“Does getting a tattoo really hurt?”
Questions out of the blue were an everyday thing, so you weren’t surprised by that one. Looking over at Jongup who was still fully immersed in one of his phone games, you rose a brow, thinking of the best possible approach to this.
“No, it feels like a gentle stroke across your skin. Tickles a little.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” he said in his most sarcastic yet monotone voice ever and at that the conversation abruptly ended. You chuckled a little, not surprised at all how quickly he managed to revert form any sort of situation. That was Jongup in his truest, rawest form. Either babbling uncontrollably or getting quiet real quick, no in between. You wanted to know the origins of such curiosity though, and didn’t intend to just let it slide.
“Why’d you ask?”
Out of curiosity could be an opinion, but by just looking at him you knew that wasn’t the case. His head was probably full of a whole trail of thought you had absolutely no idea of, something he’d gone over a few times already before asking.
“Just thought about it all of a sudden. It can’t possibly hurt that much if there’s so many people getting them done.. Like you, for example.”
You knew Jongup loved your tattoos. It was a thing he’d never said out loud but if was so damn obvious by the way he’d inspected every single one of them, had managed to sneakily pull out the backstories of all those during random conversations and just generally showed them appreciation every time an inked patch of skin poked out from any piece of your clothing. A generous amount of looks was an everyday thing, and they could range from simply curious to admiring to seductive to anything else really.
“Considering one for yourself?”
“Hm,” he let out, uncertain about his answer first before finally adding, “I have a feeling like I’ll never purposefully sit down to come up with like a design, or an idea for a tattoo or anything.. But I’d get one done if there was ever like an on-spot opportunity, if it would, like, come by on it’s own.. Do you know what I mean?”
“Like at a random night out with friends when one of them screams out “let’s get inked”?”
“Sort of,” he said after thinking for a little longer, his eyes fixating back on his phone screen, “Like a memory of something, not necessarily a visual masterpiece, but, yeah.. When there’s enough emotion in the moment for me to realize that I don’t want to forget it.”
With that, the conversation had ended, but he’d sure given you enough material to spark up your imagination.
You know, his Skydive getup suited him well.. With those sharp cat-like eyes of his, the way he simply couldn’t be bothered sometimes, his many different more or less spot on or sometimes plainly questionable fashion choices… He’d look good with an inked patch of skin or two. You just imagined it, and couldn’t get the picture out of your head for a while. But the possibilities of that ever happening were slim, and you weren’t about to pressure him or say anything to him about it. He was fine the way he was, and as long as he was open-minded about others having tattoos, you had no complaints.
Life went on and time kept passing rapidly. A few new letters here and there, a few little scribbles and symbols, and there was more ink on you for him to admire now. He still didn’t say a thing, didn’t look surprised when you showed a new little tattoo off to him, just stole more or less subtle glances, let his fingers loose to trail across them and such.. It was the same sort of silent appreciation you’d known from him for years. And it was that way until your three year anniversary, when he flew the two of you to LA to spend a head-spinning weekend together.
It had been a long day of adventure and the two of you were walking down a less busy street hand in hand at 2 AM, sipping on drinks and enjoying the view of the big city, when all of a sudden his hand moved away from holding yours and traveled a little higher up your forearm, exposing one of your tattoos to his view and to the cool night air.
His fingers trailed over it a few times and he looked up at you, meeting your slightly puzzled stare to why he was acting so strange all of a sudden.
“I want to get a tattoo.”
“Now?” you arched a brow at him, surprised at such a turn of events. There was an untypical spark in his eyes and his voice carried a sense of thrill for adventure. It was an important decision and he voiced it so lightly that you had concerns of him regretting it later on.
But he just glanced around the street, then back at you. As if checking if everything was real and he wasn’t mistaken.
“This is memorable. I want to get something to remember that we’ve once been here and walked these streets together, and that at this moment I sort of realized there ain’t anyone out there whom I could possibly love more than you… Not that I didn’t figure any of that out earlier, I just.. Kind of feel this way right now, and want to capture it,” his stare that had met the ground for a second trailed back up, looking into your eyes completely calmly as if he hadn’t just dropped a complete emotional bomb on you a second ago, “Would that be enough of a reason?”
“Don’t try to hide up the fact that you basically just confessed eternal love to me,” you blurted out, seeing how he smiled at you cheekily and took your hand back in his, continuing to walk further down the street but not before planting a quick kiss on your lips, as if to seal the statement, “Whatever you feel is right should be the right choice…”
“Will you get one if I get one?”
You definitely could. Looking back at all the good times you’d spent with him, you couldn’t help but smile a little. Being with him has made you so much happier, and he didn’t really need an answer to this question. You thought he knew it was pretty self-explanatory.
“So, are any local tattoo patrols open at 2 AM, or..”
“Not really sure about that,” you admitted to him, intrigued by how this could turn out all of a sudden. All these silent years of appreciation… Maybe he’d thought about this already, who knows? But maybe it really was in the moment emotion. Nonetheless, you were excited to see both the process and the result.
