Love (and All Of Its Complications) | Kth

love (and all of its complications) | kth

— pairing: photography student!tae x reader

— genre: fluff, angst (a bit) | college au

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings: insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, (most likely) inaccurate use of photography terms, the nickname love, brief mention of min yoonji (haha)

— summary: when you think you're not worth loving, he lists all the reason why you are.

— author's note: this is a request from a friend based on the song best part of me by ed sheeran (ft. yebba)! so its a bit oc-centric. if you're having similar thoughts to oc, i hope tae's words can become a source of comfort for you :) enjoy!

masterlist

The first thing you notice upon waking up from slumber is the weight of your boyfriend’s head on your chest, his fluffy hair tickling your chin. As much as you like having him close like this, the position makes it hard for you to breathe, so you shift your body a little to give your lungs the oxygen they deserve. Your movement triggers that of his as well, his arm tightening around your waist and his leg around your legs, making you sigh in defeat.

A glance at the wall clock tells you that it’s still way too early for him to wake up, so you decide to give him those extra hours of sleep you know he will appreciate later. Your hand settles on his hair, fingers running through the strands once before you angle your head to give him a kiss on the top of his head. He stirs a bit but doesn’t wake up, instead he snuggles closer to your body like you’re his personal body pillow.

When your hand catches on his t-shirt while rubbing his back, the black color of the fabric reminds you that your boyfriend had gone straight to bed last night in the same clothes he had been wearing all night. Any protests you put up fell on deaf ears as he whined for you to get into bed with him, claiming he was too exhausted to wash up. Between his big puppy eyes and pouting lips, you couldn’t find it in you to deny him of your hold, allowing him to pull you onto the mattress and into dreamland.

Last night was the opening night of Taehyung’s photography exhibition, so you understand the state of exhaustion he’s in. You’ve witnessed first-hand how stressed he was preparing for this event, from the initial proposal to choosing the photos to display and arranging them in the exhibition venue according to his vision. It was filled with countless sleepless nights and too many cups of coffee you started to worry about his wellbeing, something you told him often. Despite his reassurance that he would be fine, you still found yourself biting your lip in worry every time he looked even the slightest bit tired.

Last night, he proved to you that all of those sleepless nights and bitter coffees are worth it as he proudly hosted the opening night of his own exhibition that has been his dream for so long. You had watched as the sparks never left his eyes for the entirety of the night, even though he had to be on his feet for hours and talk non-stop to the guests. You watched with admiration in your eyes every time he explained the meaning behind the photos on display, feeling pride swell in your heart when you see that people were as mesmerized as you were listening to him talk about his art.

You had let yourself wander around the exhibition without him, letting him be the star of the show on his own. It was fascinating to see the exhibition in its finished form when you’ve only seen parts of the building process, seeing the bits you recognize and how it came to life with the things added around them. It was also different seeing the photos finally lined up according to the story that Taehyung wants to tell, the message he wants to convey. Through the various colors and techniques, he bares his mind to everyone and hopes that it was enough to be understood.

You’ve always admired Taehyung’s photography skills. The way he captures mundane things and makes them appear extraordinary in his shots never fails to evoke emotions out of you, sometimes even making you believe that the world is as beautiful as it is behind his camera lens. Often you wonder if that’s how he sees the world — through a rose-colored glass, void of the black-colored stains that’s always lurking in the corner.

You found the answer last night, when he was talking to his photography club friends about the general theme of his exhibition. It’s not exactly looking at the world through a rose-colored glass — or lens, in his case — but just to show people than you can find beauty even in the tiniest nook and cranny of places you never thought to be beautiful. You thought it’s an endearing concept, but one of his friends argued that the narrative seems too idealistic in the way it sugarcoats the harsh realities of the world. They had launched into a discussion of this topic with different opinions from each one of Taehyung’s friends, giving their own input as to why this is damaging or healing.

The discussion was intense and at some point even they made you voice your thoughts on the matter as someone who doesn’t see the world through a lens like the rest of them. Your answer, of course, made them groan because it aligns with your boyfriend’s opinion, giving the impression that you were just saying things to support him even though it was your honest thoughts on the topic. Taehyung had given you a huge grin before squeezing you in a side-hug, relaying his gratitude silently. The conversation continued in a good-manered banter, soon after shifting to the techniques used in Taehyung’s photographs.

The words being thrown around sounded so foreign to you, who was only able to recognize the terms composition and exposure. Something about positioning, lighting, coloring, editing.. you tuned them out after a while. Despite so, you didn’t miss the way Taehyung talked animatedly about his craft, responding to each and every query from his friends with enthusiasm. It was clear from the discussion that everyone in the club is really passionate about this, about the things they want to tell through photographs, about the message each of them carries in every frame they capture.

Sometimes you wonder how it feels to be that passionate about something.

You have your own interests and hobbies, of course, ones you even think are your passion in life that you’d continue doing for the rest of your life. You spend weeks, months, years to perfect your own art until you’re confident that you have put out the best results and can proudly present them to the world. Surely, this is your passion, your life calling, you’re meant to do this for as long as you live. For a moment, you truly believed that.

Soon after, reality turns bleak as you come to a realization that your best does not even come close to someone else’s worst. Every corner you turn, there’s always someone with more things to offer; more appeal, more elegance, more eloquence. Your best result, the one you created with all the effort you could muster, paled in comparison to them. Hell, it was annihilated, utterly destroyed without a trace left. You’d watched your dreams crash and burn, taking your confidence with them.

Striped off your art, your passion, you’re left with a gaping hole of what else? What else do you have to offer to the world? What else do you have in you that’s worth showing off? What else can you do to prove your worth? What else can you do if not this?

Those questions play themselves in an endless loop inside your head, plaguing your mind day in, day out. There are times when they’re not as loud, only serving as background noise while you go through your day, but you find there are more times that they are roaring in your ears like thunder prior to a storm. They get worse whenever you see people talking about what they do with so much fervor, the fire in their eyes reflecting in your empty ones. Your fire was long gone even before it was able to be ablaze.

Often times, it makes you wonder whether you’ll ever be good enough without a passion.

“Honey? Sweetheart?”

Your boyfriend’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. It sounds even deeper than normal, indicating that he just woke up. When you look down, though, his eyes are wide open and there’s concern in them, like he can hear the thunder that rumbled in your head moments prior. You hope not. It’s too early for him to be worried.

“Are you okay?” Uh, oh. “I called you like, five times before this. Thought you were still asleep, but you’re awake..” Taehyung turns in your hold, holding himself up using his right arm. The worry in his eyes doesn’t cease, and you hate to be the cause of it.

“I’m fine, Tae, why wouldn’t I be?” You press your lips into a faint smile, hoping he would just chalk it up to you being tired from the event last night. His left hand comes up to your cheek and you lean into the touch, unconsciously releasing a small sigh.

“You had that faraway look that you do whenever you’re thinking about something,” Taehyung says, his gaze analyzing your expression. “And this time, it’s paired with a frown,” he continues, the pad of his thumb lightly brushing over the corner of your lips which you try really hard to keep upturned. “You’re not fine, love.”

Another sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes, hating the fact that your boyfriend knows you like the back of his hand.

“Yeah, it’s just..” How do you downplay this so he doesn’t get more worried? “..morning woes,” you settle. That should be enough. “Don’t worry about it, Tae.”

Your hand reaches for his head so you can go back to running your fingers through his hair like you were doing before he woke up, but he’s having none of it as he pushes himself to a sitting position, ridding you of his body warmth. “You saying that is the reason why I have to worry,” he counters. “Is it one of my friends? Or the guest? Did anyone make you uncomfortable last night?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you rush to correct his assumptions. Although it is true that your spiraling thoughts started because of his friends, it’s not for the reason he’s thinking of. “It’s just me thinking too much, Tae, it’s okay,” you try to reassure him once again.

“About what?” Taehyung asks, eyes never leaving yours. You wish he’d turn his gaze somewhere else, because you’re not sure the clouds behind your irises can be hidden for much longer. You’d hate to taint this important moment for him with your clouds, dark and rumbling in your mind.

Apparently you’re silent for too long that he deems you’re back in your head again. “Hey, it’s okay.. you can tell me,” he whispers, thumb stroking your cheek gently. His eyes have gone softer now, no longer staring at you with concern swimming in his orbs. You should be relieved, happy that he’s not worried anymore, but somehow the emotion replacing that worry makes your heart tighten in your chest.

Love.

He’s staring at you with love. Gentle and quiet, like he’s saying it doesn’t matter what you have in your mind, doesn’t matter how dark the clouds are, doesn’t matter how much the storm is raging, he will always find your hand to hold and pull you out into the light. He will always love you, whether your head is filled with a ray of sunshine or a raging storm.

“Do you love me?” You say quietly. It’s almost rethorical, with the way his gaze has your answer even before you voice out the question.

“Yes, of course I love you.” It doesn’t even take a second for him to answer. “Is this what you were thinking about? Whether I love you or not?” Taehyung sounds genuinely surprised, maybe because it never occurred to him to doubt his love for you.

Instead of responding to his question, you put your arms around his shoulders and pull him down for a hug. It’s an uncomfortable position and his arms are bent at an awkward angle, but you don’t care. You need to let this man know that you’ve never doubted his love for you either, only the reason behind it and whether you deserve it or not.

“Love, will you tell me what’s going on?” Taehyung’s voice is muffled against your shoulder. You blink back tears that are threatening to spill out as you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Why do you love me, Tae?”

The whispered question makes him pull away from the hug to get a look at your expression. You lost your hiding place and have no choice but to let him see you in this state; glassy, red-rimmed eyes, vulnerable. Taehyung’s eyebrows slope downwards and he looks like he’s something between angry and upset. It occurs to you that the single sentence you let out could have been interpreted in so many different ways, so you rush to explain yourself.

“It’s not that — that I don’t believe that you love me. It’s just..” you take a deep breath and release it in a shaky sigh. “Why are you in love with me? I’m not as pretty as your other friends, I’m not talented, not even that smart. Heck, I quit doing my art because I wasn’t good enough at the thing I claimed to be my passion. I don’t have anything about me to be proud of, to be worthy of being loved. Why are you still with me? You could have anyone else that has so much more to offer than me..”

By the end of your explanation, tears have flown freely down your cheeks. It seems silly to be crying even before noon, but the demons inside your head don’t look at the time when they summon storms. You just wish Taehyung didn’t have to see this. He doesn’t deserve this version of you when he has given you nothing but his best.

“I’m still with you because you make me happy,” Taehyung says. He pulls you up into a sitting position before cupping your cheeks in his huge hands, thumbs brushing away your tears. He doesn’t stop even when they continue flowing out of your eyes.

“I’m still with you because you make me laugh with your one-liners, because you laugh at my jokes. I’m with you because you call my photos beautiful even when I think they’re not. I’m with you because you don’t get mad at me whenever I burn food and instead offer to clean up with me. I’m with you because you push me to be the best version of myself even without realizing it.

“You’re beautiful, talented, and smart, love. Even when you choose not to believe it yourself. You’re courageous, too, for deciding to quit when you felt it was too much for you. Many people might not agree with me, but it takes great courage and strength to be able to quit from something you’ve been doing for so long with so much effort. It’s okay if you don’t have something to be passionate about right now, I will be here for you until you find a new one, or maybe get back to the one you left.”

Taehyung smiles, and your sobs get uglier.

“I love you for all the reasons you think you don’t deserve to be loved for, so you can quit worrying about it, okay?”

You sob loudly and he chuckles, endeared, as he pulls you back into his arms. His hands rub soothingly down your back, letting you cry on his shoulder without any complaints. Pressing his cheek against the top of your head, he releases a relieved sigh with a small smile.

“You know, it’s a wonder as well that you love me,” Taehyung laughs quietly. “I can’t cook, I’m terribly messy, and when I work on my project I ignore you for days. Do you remember the twenty missed calls you left because I fell asleep in the studio when preparing for the exhibition?”

You sniff and chuckle, your voice sounding funny when you talk because of your blocked nose. “That’s because you’re passionate. You just worried me when you didn’t pick up your phone, thought you were dead from exhaustion.” You clear your throat to get rid of the scratchiness of your voice. “Also I don’t mind that you can’t cook, as long as you stay updated on delivery places so we have something different to eat every day.”

“You don’t mind that I can’t cook because you can’t cook either, love.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Taehyung lets out another chuckle as he squeezes your form, peppering your head with kisses. You both stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s body warmth. It allows you to settle the storm inside your head, now only a pitter-patter against the window in your mind. Soon, it’ll be filled with sunshine again. You believe it will.

“Can I ask you about something?” Taehyung says after minute of being silent. You hum your affirmation, allowing him to continue. “What triggered you? To think about all of that this early in the morning?”

“It’s almost eleven, Tae, not early at all,” you muse, ignoring the first part of his question. You let out a sigh when he gives no response to your joke. “Just.. meeting your friends last night. They’re fine, I swear! But the way you guys were talking about the exhibition, about photography in general.. it made me realize how passionate you all are and made me wonder why I can’t be that passionate towards something as well. Yeah, there you go.”

“Oh, love..” Taehyung sighs.

“Also, your friends are really pretty and talented, I couldn’t help but feel insecure, you know?” You add, tone light and playful to let your boyfriend know that you’re okay now. Even if there’s some truth to your words. “Who’s the one who has dark blue hair? I saw the shot she showed you on her phone, it was really beautiful and stuck with me the most.”

“Oh, that’s Min Yoonji. If you remember Yoongi from the club last year, she’s his twin. Yoongi couldn’t come last night so he sent her in his stead,” Taehyung explains. “You don’t have to be insecure, though. Yoonji might be pretty and talented, but she’s not you.”

You snort out a shy laugh. “Alright, I get it. Ease up on the flirting, will you?”

“Hey, I’m serious!” He laughs and it’s so contagious you find yourself laughing out loud as well. “Really, though, love. Okay?”

“Hmm,” you respond. Then, “I love you, Tae.”

“I love you too,” he replies. “Now can we get breakfast? Brunch? I’m starving.”

And as you laugh again, you think you’ll be fine. You think the storms will calm down into a drizzle, and the drizzle will soon let up to allow a ray of sunshine to pass through the clouds. There might even be a rainbow adorning the sky of your mind, and it will look picture-perfect just like how Taehyung captures the world in his lens.

You’ll be fine.

— a/n: thanks for reading! tell me your thoughts here :)

picture drabble masterlist

a collection of drabbles written based on a picture, sorted by date written (date stamps underneath each post). written in one sitting, unedited. mostly jeon jeongguk.

→ jjk | kimchi-seasoning-stained gloves

→ kth | a side glance

→ jjk | chubby-cheeked jk

→ kth | th posing in front of tower bridge

→ jjk | jk smiling with light orbs behind him

→ kth & myg | blue-haired th and purple-haired yg

→ jjk | a vlive screenshot of jk waving to the camera

→ jjk | jk lying on the wooden floor

→ jjk | euphoria!jk smiling behind the steering wheel of a car

→ jjk | long-haired jk fixing his hair while looking at the camera

→ jjk | jk standing in front of a vending machine

→ jjk | a black and white pic of smiling jk

→ jjk | just jk sitting down with his hair styled

→ knj | namjoon rpwp neighbor-like photo concept

→ knj | cheek-on-fist namjoon

Hi. Do you have a separate post for like a masterlist of the ‘boxer!gguk series’ ? Thank you.

hi! unfortunately i haven’t gotten around to making one 😵‍💫 will make a masterlist when i have time hehe

boxer!gguk drabble #1

— pairing: childhood friend!jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff (i guess..) | college!au, childhood friends to lovers

— word count: 0.9k

— warnings: harsh words, tattooed and pierced jk (eyebrow and lip)

— summary: after not seeing each other for two years, jeon jeongguk shows up on your doorstep with an arm full of ink and two piercings on his face.

masterlist | boxer!gguk masterlist

“You’re staring.”

“Of course I am!”

He laughs. You haven’t seen each other for two years yet he still knows which buttons to push to annoy you, making you even more irritated.

It’s not fair.

When you both parted ways for college, the most ink you could see on his skin are a few scattered ones on his right arm. Three stripes on his wrist, a tiger lily on his forearm, and a chinese phrase meaning “the most beautiful moments in life” near his elbow are to name a few.

Imagine your surprise when he knocked on your door at 10 in the morning with his right arm wholly covered in ink and two piercings on his face. You almost thought that he was someone else altogether, but when he said hi and grinned, you knew it was your childhood friend whom you said goodbye to two years ago when you were both freshmen at different universities.

So much has changed, yet so little at the same time as he strolled inside your house even before you said anything to respond to his greeting, too shocked to even say hi back.

Your mom didn’t even bat an eye when he came up to her to say hi, and your dad gave him an amused smile at how strong he was handling the pain of getting all those ink painted on his whole arm. It seemed like you were the only one thrown for a loop at the sight of him.

Now you’re both sitting in the living room, him attempting to watch the TV while you’re staring at him. You don’t even deny it when he calls you out, shame thrown out the window. The sight of him sitting on your couch is too bizarre for you to just say nothing about it.

“Why are you so shocked? You knew I’d always wanted to get my arm tattooed.”

“Yeah, but not the whole thing.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” he shrugs, “it didn’t hurt.”

You glare at him as he chuckles at your expression. “Alright, it felt like a pinch. From Thanos.”

“And those two?” you ask, referring to the piercings he has on his eyebrow and lower lip. “Felt like what? Kissed by Thanos?”

“Jealous?” He grins.

You give him the stink eye, but you’re still curious and honestly a bit concerned because from what you know, getting pierced anywhere on your body hurts like hell. You can’t really imagine the pain of getting pierced on your face, yet he has two of them.

“Seriously though, don’t they hurt like you’re thrown in hell and then back?”

Your question makes him throw his head back in a loud laugh.

“It hurt, but nothing I can’t handle,” he answers. “You can stop looking at me like that. I’m starting to think that you’re worried about me.”

“You have two piercings on your face! One on your lip! How can I not worry!”

“This?” He nudges the lip ring with his tongue. “It doesn’t hurt now. It’s just like wearing earrings, you know, but on your lip.”

“I don’t wear earrings,” you say in a flat tone.

He pulls his mouth into a thin line, running out of ways to assure you his piercings don’t hurt him at all.

“Look,” he says, running his tongue on his lips before settling on his lip ring, pulling it this way and that with his tongue. “Do you see it bleeding? Do you see me wince in pain? Do you see it hurt me in any way?”

He continues to tug at the ring on his lip with his tongue to make a point, eyes boring into yours as if to challenge you to say anything more about his piercings. You don’t notice, though, as your gaze unconsciously focuses on the way his tongue rolls over the lip ring slowly, as if to tease and taunt you.

You close your eyes to get rid of the mental image.

“Stop doing that, you’re going to tear the skin on your lip.”

“Wanna do it for me?”

“Huh?”

“Tug at my lip ring with your tongue. You can soothe the burn by kissing it afterwards.”

“I—“

“Promise it’ll feel good. You’ve never kissed someone with a lip piercing before, have you?”

“… no.”

“Then come here quick.” He raises one eyebrow (his pierced one, fuck), taunting. “Or not. The lip ring will get cold but my lips will still be warm.”

Your whole face is already red but you make no move to kiss him. This is weird. He’s your childhood friend. Your very hot childhood friend. Why is he suddenly asking you to kiss him anyway?

“Come on, baby. Hurt me with your tongue.”

Something snaps inside of you and you yank at his shirt to shut him up with your lips. You tug at his lip ring harshly and he lets out a groan from the back of his throat from the pain. Well, he asked for it.

“You’re so annoying,” you manage to say in between kisses.

He smiles. “You love it,” he mumbles against your lips before angling his head to deepen the kiss. Your head spins.

He then notices you rolling your tongue over his lip ring over and over again, and pulls away slightly with a smirk.

“Loving the ring now, huh?”

“Shut up, Jeon.”

He chuckles before getting back to pressing his lips against yours, enjoying the extra attention you give to his lip ring.

Maybe he’ll get another one just to rile you up.

(And to kiss you like this again.)

— a/n: thank you for reading! it’s my first time posting writings on tumblr so pls be kind to me 😬 tell me your thoughts on my secreto :)

You fumble with the buttons on the video camera, pressing the record button until the red dot blinks, indicating that the device is now saving whatever scene that’s on the lens into the memory card. Your hold is shaky, but you manage to lift the thing until it’s eye-level with you.

“Tae,” you call, pouting when he offers you a non-committal hum as a reply.

“Taeeee,” you whine out, the footage in the camera blurs for a second because one of your hand lets go of it in favor of shoving the boy on the shoulder to get him to look at you.

“What?” he finally says, head turned to you slightly as he gives you a side glance. It kinds of look intimidating, and you almost coward away behind the device in your hand.

“Look here,” you say, gesturing to the camera, and he does.

Taehyung stares at the lens with so much intensity in his eyes you could feel yourself blush, even though he’s not directly staring at you. You kinda regret asking him to look at the lens now.

“Don’t— God, Tae! Soften your gaze! It looks like you’re going to murder someone,” you let out, trying to distract Taehyung (and yourself) from the fact that a mere stare can make your face warm and red, akin to embers dying out from a flame.

“Sorry, I’m not in love with this thing.” He taps the camera in your hand, shaking the image in the screen once again. “My soft gaze is only for you,” he continues, giving you a wink before a hint of a smirk appears on the corner of his lips.

You roll your eyes despite your warming cheeks, stopping the recording and turning the camera off.

“Couldn’t you be any cheesier?” Sarcasm is used, Taehyung doesn’t need to know how much his words earlier affected you.

He shrugs. “You love it.”

Love it, love him.

That, you do.

february 17th, 2019

masterlist | secreto

of basketball, bruises, and a black-haired boy — pt. ii | jjk

— pairing: basketball player!jk x named oc

— genre: fluff, angst (a bit) | high school au, childhood friends au, neighbors au, friends enemies to lovers

— word count: 3.8k

— warnings: harsh words, jeongguk being annoying, junghwa being annoyed, high school shenanigans, cliches!, they're cute so it's okay hahah

— summary: being neighbors with the star player of the school's basketball team has never seemed like a big deal. until he plays at three in the morning—and misses a shot.

— author's note: this is a part two of the same title, please read part one if you haven't~

masterlist | basketball player!gguk masterlist

His name is Jeon Jeongguk.

Junghwa’s first meeting with him was when they were both in third grade, when Jeongguk had just moved into the neighborhood. Junghwa was on her way home from an extra math class in school when she got called over by her mom who was talking with Jeongguk’s mom in front of their house. Not long after, Jeongguk was called as well to come out of the house so he can share his name with Junghwa. Eight-year-old Jeongguk had only taken one look at eight-year-old Junghwa before mumbling out his name in muffled syllables, quick in his introduction before going straight back into his house. Junghwa had just assumed he was a shy one.

It’s safe to say that Jeongguk had always been a constant in Junghwa’s life since then, going through the awkward phase of adolescence together. They didn’t go to the same elementary school, but they spent every hour after school playing together. Sometimes they rode their little bicycles around the neighborhood, which often ended up in Jeongguk crashing the front tire of his bicycle into Junghwa’s, making the little girl yelp and the little boy laugh. Jeongguk’s laugh was contagious though, so he was able to pull out a laugh too from Junghwa.

When they weren’t in the mood for some good bicycle-crashing, they hung out in Jeongguk’s house with his many game consoles. Jeongguk had one older brother, so it was a given that they both would fight over games (and everything) all the time, which explains the number of game consoles they have. Even with Junghwa added to their little circle, each of them still had one game console in hand. Junghwa’s favorite console to play was the gameboy (because it was the only console that had the Kirby game) but it didn’t hurt to beat Jeongguk in Playstation’s Tekken once in a while.

Jeongguk and Junghwa grew apart when they were starting middle school. Jeongguk’s school was a lot farther from their houses than Junghwa’s, so he had to go to school earlier than her. He was a lot busier too, always getting home hours after Junghwa did. Because of that, they rarely saw each other and in turn, their gaming and bicycle-crashing days were over just like that. Junghwa could only watch from afar as the kid with bowl-cut hair, chubby cheeks, and two big front teeth slowly grew up into a teenager with side-swept bangs and defined jawline. He still had the two big front teeth, though, which made him upset every time people pointed them out.

It was also in middle school that Jeongguk found interest in basketball. He made it into the school team on his sophomore year, and was declared captain on his junior year. Sometimes he took his team home to practice on the small basketball court right next to Junghwa’s house, shouting out game strategies and encouragements to his team. Afterwards they always headed to Jeongguk’s house to cool down, and Junghwa never missed the opportunity to follow Jeongguk’s steps with her eyes, wondering what happened to their childhood friendship.

In one of her many visits to Junghwa’s residence, Jeongguk’s mom excitedly told Junghwa that Jeongguk was going to attend the same high school as her. They went together on the first day of school—as per Jeongguk’s mom’s insistence—but quickly separated ways as soon as they reached the building. It felt weird, having Jeongguk by her side again, both because it had been such a long time since they spoke and because sixteen-year-old Jeongguk was definitely not eleven-year-old Jeongguk.

He got into the school basketball team again and became one of their best players in a short amount of time. With it, came the popularity, the girls, and the secret admirers. Not only once or twice had Junghwa heard people talking about her childhood friend’s greatness in playing basketball, along with hushed whispers about how good-looking he was. Every time that happened, Junghwa only rolled her eyes and slammed her locker door shut to block off those whispers.

There was a period of time when Junghwa wasn’t being herself and ended up always waking up late so she missed the bus to school. The first morning that happened, Junghwa was speed-walking in front of the Jeons’ house when Jeongguk stepped out of the house with a helmet in his hand. His mom followed a second later, and her eyes caught Junghwa’s. Before Junghwa could have a chance to bolt her way out of there, Jeongguk’s mom had called out to her in a cheery voice and told her to go to school with Jeongguk—on his motorcycle. Junghwa remembers how a slight frown had etched itself onto Jeongguk’s face before it disappeared as he moved his backpack to his front so Junghwa could sit behind him.

When they arrived at school, it was chaotic, to say the least. No one had remembered that Jeongguk and Junghwa had gone to school together on the first day, so everyone was left wondering who the hell this girl was. Junghwa remembered how Jeongguk told her to go to class first so they wouldn’t be seen walking in together, but they both knew it was useless as everyone had already seen them when they entered the school gates. That day, Junghwa got more glares in the hall than she could count on both hands.

So Jeongguk announced to everyone that they were neighbors.

(He said it was better if he was the one who did it because people would believe him more than they believe Junghwa, which made her frown but she had to admit he got a point.)

Then-Jeongguk was so adamant in saying “We are not dating!” whenever someone mistook them as a couple, so his words lately saying the opposite thing only confuses Junghwa. He never treated her as ‘one of his girls’ either, so Junghwa wonders what prompted him to say those things he did after she went out and yelled at him for playing basketball at three in the morning.

Junghwa also wonders what present-day-Jeongguk has in his eyes that convinced her to go with him to the small basketball court next to her house. They sit against the wall, shoulder to shoulder, and say nothing for minutes that feel like hours. Junghwa refuses to be the first one to talk and Jeongguk is trying to avert his eyes away from Junghwa’s red and swollen eyes. It’s obvious she has been crying. Because of what, he doesn’t know.

“If you’re not going to say anything I’ll just go back home,” Junghwa says in a low voice while moving to get up from the ground. Jeongguk’s hand shoots up to grip her wrist in a gentle hold, not letting go until Junghwa looks at him with a confused expression.

“Let’s play some ball,” he says, getting up himself to fetch his basketball that sits a few steps away from where they are sitting. Junghwa’s confused face morphs into one with a frown. “I can’t play basketball.”

Jeongguk has started running around the court, dribbling the orange ball with quick steps towards the hoop. He does a lay-up, gets the ball in, before dribbling the ball back to where Junghwa is standing. “Your turn.” He places the ball in Junghwa’s hands.

She shoves the ball back to his chest. “I’m not here to be your laughing stock, Jeon.”

Jeongguk traces Junghwa’s face with his eyes—the taut of her eyebrows, the puffiness of her eyes, the frown on her lips. He chuckles before shaking his head, giving the ball back to Junghwa. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” He gives the girl in front of him a smile. “First to ten point wins.”

Then he smacks the ball away from Junghwa’s hands with a loud laugh. She blinks her confusion away, and by the time she comes to her senses, Jeongguk has already scored a point.

“I told you I can’t play basketball!”

“Liar,” Jeongguk smirks. “With the way you always watched me whenever I have practice here, I’m sure you know a trick or two.”

Junghwa splutters in disbelief. “Watching is not the same as doing it!”

“So you admit to always watching me play?”

Junghwa’s mouth drops open.

Jeongguk only laughs again. “Come on, I’ll teach you how to play.”

“I told you I can’t do lay-ups!”

They’re both currently drenched in sweat, Jeongguk has even taken off his blue jacket and thrown it somewhere on the bench. His hair is sticking to his forehead, making him comb it away from his face with his hands over and over again. It now sits on his head like a bird’s nest.

“Alright, alright, no lay-ups for you,” Jeongguk heaves out, taking the ball Junghwa throws his way with ease. It pisses her off how easy all of this seems to Jeongguk, from dribbling the ball to shooting it into the hoop. He does it with so much grace, feet stepping into the correct spot at the perfect moment, hands letting go of the ball just right so it goes smoothly into the hoop. It’s like the heaven ordered its best angels to do nothing but help the boy named Jeon Jeongguk.

“I’m done, I’m tired.” Junghwa breathes out, sliding down the wall like her legs just gave out. She spots a water bottle in Jeongguk’s backpack and takes it without thinking twice, immediately gulping down the water like she hasn’t drunk for days.

Jeongguk comes up to her with his eyes on the bottle, which just lost half of its content courtesy of Junghwa. She smiles up at him innocently before gulping down some more water just because she can.

“Because you stole my water, you have to practice shooting the ball into the hoop with me.” Jeongguk takes the water bottle from Junghwa’s hand and drinks the rest of the content in one go. It makes Junghwa’s head spin thinking about how moments prior her lips were the ones touching the bottle—and now it’s Jeongguk’s. He puts the bottle back in his bag before grabbing Junghwa’s hands to pull her up. “Come on.”

“Noo—” Despite her protests and lack of movement, Jeongguk still manages to pull her back to her feet. Him and his strong-ass body. “Jeongguk, I don’t want to shoot. I’m tired.”

The boy drags her to the middle of the court in silence. Then he places himself behind Junghwa, giving the orange ball a few dribbles before placing it in her hands. “Shoot.”

Junghwa rolls her eyes. “I bet this is the part where you do that cliche thing—where you put your arms around me in a poor excuse of teaching me how to shoot, and then you pull me close to you, cover my hand in your bigger ones—”

Jeongguk takes one step forward so his chest is now in contact with Junghwa’s back. He lowers his mouth so it’s level with Junghwa’s ear, and whispers out: “Exactly.”

Junghwa refuses to admit that the shivers that ran down her spine was because of him.

Jeongguk proceeds to do the things Junghwa listed as cliche in their respective orders, not backing off even when the basketball goes into the hoop just right. He waits with bated breath for Junghwa’s reaction, and when she turns around, it gives him a bit of satisfaction seeing the surprise in her eyes upon realizing just how close they are standing.

“If any of your girls sees this, I’ll be dead in a second.” The moment breaks with Junghwa’s sentence, and Jeongguk watches as she walks away with her head down. He catches up with her before she can go back into her house.

“Hey,” he calls, putting his hand on her shoulder to stop her from walking away. “What do you mean with ‘any of my girls’?”

“Seriously?” Junghwa scoffs. “You’re the star basketball player of our school, known for his three-pointers and good looks, and you still ask me what did I mean with ‘any of your girls’?”

Jeongguk blinks and opens his mouth to tease Junghwa (“You think I’m good-looking?”) but the girl doesn’t even let him let out a single word from his mouth. Junghwa turns to face him fully and shoves a finger to his chest, angrily stomping until Jeongguk steps backward with every step she takes forward.

“You asked why I went home early today, right?” She bites out. “Well, you can ask Jiwoo, or your beloved girls what happened at school today. They happened, Jeongguk. After that hugging incident they confronted me saying I took you away from them. That I convinced you to date me and not tell anyone of them, because I want you all to myself.”

Junghwa’s eyes start becoming watery again but she fights the urge to cry. “They said some really mean shit, Jeongguk, I wouldn’t even dare repeat them to you. When I said we weren’t dating they just called me a liar and started pulling at my hair, clawing at my arms with their long-ass nails. One of them even almost slapped me had Jiwoo not stepped in. She called the principal on them and took me home. There, that’s what happened. You happy now?”

Jeongguk is quiet, trying to process all the new information Junghwa has just given him. After some seconds of just staring at each other, he lets out a question that has Junghwa closing her eyes in frustration: “How come I didn’t know about this?”

“Because!” Junghwa throws her hands up in anger. “You were in basketball practice, like you always are! Besides, I think no one would have told you anyway, they’re all scared of your so-called fanclub that they choose to keep what they know to themselves rather than risk facing their rage. And I’m only your neighbor anyway, not that significant that you have to know what happened to me.”

Junghwa takes a deep breath before looking back at Jeongguk. “I told you to stop approaching me at school, didn’t I, Jeon? Look what—”

Jeongguk pulls her into his arms, buries his face in her hair. He doesn’t care that both of them reek of sweat, shirts wet with perspiration and skins covered in dirt. He just didn’t realize that he has a following who could do terrible things to other people, much less to his own neighbor—and friend. He feels really bad that Junghwa is in this situation because of him.

“I’m sorry, Junghwa, I didn’t know,” he whispers into her hair. His tightens his hold on her, and it surprises them both how Junghwa hasn’t even attempted to pull away from the hug. “I’m really sorry you had to go through that.”

Jeongguk suddenly pulls away and holds Junghwa by the shoulders, gripping them so hard that she’s cringing. “But are you okay now? Are you hurt anywhere? Should we go to the hospital? Oh, God, your nose just healed a few days ago, I can’t believe you had to put up with so much of my shit in a span of mere days..”

Junghwa waves her hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Spent the whole afternoon crying on my bed like some pathetic loser.”

Jeongguk is about to hug her again when she puts a hand on his chest, stopping his movement. “You smell awful, stop hugging me.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, backing off a little bit so Junghwa has enough space to breathe. Looking to the side, Jeongguk seems to be in deep thought as his eyebrows crease and his lips purse ever so slightly. He was so deep in thought that maybe he doesn’t realize he’s still standing in front of Junghwa when he lifts the bottom part of his shirt to wipe the sweat on his forehead, exposing his taut abs. Junghwa makes a surprised sound before turning around with her cheeks ablaze.

“Don’t do that! You’re outside for fuck’s sake!”

Jeongguk chuckles from behind Junghwa. “Sorry, bad habit.” He puts his hands on Junghwa’s shoulders to turn her back around. “It’s safe now. You can see my abs another day.”

Junghwa’s grumble of I don’t wanna see them gets lost in Jeongguk’s next words: “What do you think about making their words come true?”

“What words.”

“The ones that said we’re dating.”

“No. They will do worse things to me than what they did today.”

“They won’t, okay, listen to me.” Jeongguk actually looks like he has a plan inside his head. “I’ll protect you. I’ll tell them not to mess with you again or they’ll be banned from my future basketball matches—or something, I’ll think about that later. Or I can yell at them, threaten to hate them if they dare mess with you again. Anything, so they can’t hurt you again.”

It’s not convincing even the slightest bit, but Junghwa keeps her mouth shut because Jeongguk looks like he still has something to say.

“Or instead of doing this for them, do it for me?” He voices it like a question, eyes hopeful. “I was telling the truth about me falling off my bike because I was distracted by you, all those years ago. I was always so happy whenever we played games together, you know, I even let you beat me on Tekken just so I could see you smile. Junghyun used to tease me a lot about you, I don’t know if you realized but I feel like you should have because he wasn’t subtle about it at all. He was also the one who suggested I bring my team home to practice when we were in middle school, saying that you always watched me whenever I shot hoops in this small basketball court. I always looked at you every time I scored a point, do you remember? And every time, without fail, you would avert your eyes away like you didn’t want to be caught staring at me while I was playing.

Oh and that day when my mom forced us to go to school together because you were uncharacteristically late? I told you to go to class first because I was nervous to walk in together with you. I didn’t want the whole school to know how much I like you because for sure it was going to be plastered all over my face. And that day I was really upset because I had to tell everyone that we were neighbors. I wanted people to know that we’re together as a couple, not just mere neighbors who have known each other since childhood. God, it was really hard for me, Junghwa. So hard.”

Junghwa is spiraling because who would have thought that the kid with bowl-cut hair, chubby cheeks, and two big front teeth has secretly been crushing on her for the past six years?

“But why did you always tell people that we are not dating whenever we get mistaken as a couple?”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I made sure people know that we weren’t a couple, because we were not. It honestly also served as a reminder to myself, because sometimes I get lost in my feelings and look at us as a couple too. Like a reality check, or something. But hey, wouldn’t it be cute if we became a couple since a long time ago? Childhood friends and neighbors, turned lovers. That’s some movie material right there.”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know,” Jeongguk grins. “So? Be my girlfriend?”

Junghwa fakes gagging when Jeongguk shoots her a quick wink after his question.

“Come on, that way I don’t have to tell your mom that I’m not actually your boyfriend. I also promise to stop playing basketball at three in the morning—”

“Right! That! Why did you start playing at an ungodly hour? It’s really annoying.”

“To get your attention, what else?” Jeongguk answers like it’s an obvious and known fact. “I know you’re always awake at that hour, and I love your reaction whenever I dribble my basketball too loud. That time when you came out and yelled at me? You looked so cute I wanted to come up and squish you in my arms. Could be considered the best day of my life, even. I’m sorry about the window incident, though. I really didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

“I’m sorry too, for being too hostile to you afterwards. I just can’t help but feel … like I was ‘one of your girls’, you know? I didn’t know how you treated them but that was certainly not how you treated me in the years we know each other. You’ve always treated me like a friend, or a neighbor, not a lover, that when you showed just a little bit of change I freaked out.”

“Don’t worry, Junghwa. For me, you’re the only one.”

“That’s gross.”

“Hey!”

“You know I still feel weird about this, right?”

Jeongguk and Junghwa are currently seated in Junghwa’s living room, the TV playing in the background serving as white noise. There’s some space between them, one that Junghwa created because she still finds it weird that now the boy with the black hair in front of her is her boyfriend.

“That’s fine. You don’t know how it feels to be pining for your neighbor for six years straight, so I can imagine this is all so sudden to you.”

“Thanks, Jeongguk.”

“Yeah, Junghwa.”

Junghwa chuckles upon hearing their names being said one after another like that.

“You know, one of the girls today said to me that my name is a sham because the first syllable is Jung, just like yours. She said I was so desperate to get your attention that I had to have the name ‘Junghwa’, a name so similar to yours. She sounded really stupid that I couldn’t come up with a response. I just tried my best not to laugh in her face.”

Jeongguk scrunches up his face. “Really? I’m offended that I have a ‘fanclub’ that stupid.”

“Better educate them better, then.”

“I’d rather educate my girlfriend on how to do lay-ups properly. She’s short so she will have a hard time but I’m willing to teach her my ways so we can play together in the future. Who knows, maybe she’ll become a star basketball player just like her boyfriend.”

“Nope. No more basketballs. I’ll just watch you from the sidelines and clap whenever you score a point.”

“Can I kiss you every time I score?”

“No.”

Jeongguk pouts. Maybe he’d have to steal kisses at three in the morning, while Junghwa yells at him for dribbling his basketball too loud. Maybe he’d have to steal kisses in the morning that Junghwa is riding to school with him. Or maybe he could steal kisses when they play basketball together, just the two of them. He’d teach her how to shoot again and do the cliche things in their respective orders just like what he did today.

“You can kiss me after you win a game.”

And the black-haired boy laughs, brighter than he ever has in the past six years.

— a/n: thanks for reading! tell me your thoughts here and pls wait for the last part of ggukhwa hehehe :)