FRI(END)S β κ° μμ μΈ κ±
ββ β§ Λ. πΉairing ΛΛ yang jeongin x f!reader ΛΛ childhood friends to lovers π°enre/π½ags. fluff, angst (not a lot, i hope..?), some profanity, kissing, i believe thatβs it.. πords. 3.8k
[ ππππ. ] β hello peeps, iβm back from the dead w a new fic that iβve been working on for a while but iβm glad i finally finished it :D this is for my sweetheart @jeonginslittledoll, i hope you like it bestie <3
πΌong π²nspo. fri(end)s by v
Jeongin doesnβt remember a time in his life when you werenβt there. Dating all the way back to kindergarten, you were in all his drawingsβ your pigtails lopsided and stick limbs holding his hand. He remembers how heβd always draw the sun in the corner and youβd insist on adding glitter stars even when it was supposed to be daytime. You shared your crayons with him without hesitation, even your special sparkly ones, which at five years old was basically the pinnacle of loyalty.
You were there the first time he cried over a scraped knee, when he wanted to show you this cool trick and ended up falling off his scooter. He tried not to let it show, but you saw anyway, gasping so dramatically he cried harder, until you kissed his knee and told him you had βmagical healing powersβ. He never once questioned it.
In third grade, he failed his math test for the first time. His hands were far too shaky to hand the paper to his mom, so he showed it to you first. You sat beside him on the swings, bumping shoulders, and told him youβd help him study, even if you both sucked at fractions.
When sixth grade rolled around, you were there to console him when a girl told him that she βjust wanted to be friends.β He didnβt even like her that much, not really. But he still looked for you after class and said nothing when you handed him your last fruit roll-up and gave him a little nudge, a signal that meant βIβm here for you.β You didnβt bother with the clichΓ©s or telling him there were plenty of other fish in the sea. You just stayed. That in itself was enough for him.
He never got over how easy it was with you. How stupidly, infuriatingly safe he felt around you. Like all the worst parts of him didnβt matter because you already saw them and accepted him exactly for the way he wasβ choosing to remain by his side.
You knew him when his voice cracked, when he had braces, when he tried hair gel for the first time and looked like heβd dunked himself headfirst in a bucket of oil. You gave him a beanie and said, βweβre pretending this never happened.β He wore it every day for two months straight.
You were his first crush, too. Of course you were. He was eleven, you had the most god awful haircut, a gap in your front teeth, and you laughed so hard at his stupid PokΓ©mon impressions that chocolate milk came shooting out of your nose.
He swore that day that heβd marry you.
And even though he was just a kid who barely understood the concept of love yet, some part of him mustβve already knownβ because every person heβs tried to love since then were miles behind you.
You were his first sleepover. The first person who saw him cry when his goldfish died. The only one who remembered the day his great grandfather passed and left a cupcake on his porch even though you had just came back from out of town.
He fell in love somewhere between then and now. Quietly. Foolishly. Permanently.
Maybe it was sophomore year of high school, when you made a Spotify playlist just for him called βfor when your brain wonβt shut upβ, and every single song felt like a lifeline. Maybe it was that summer you got into a shouting match with a guy who tried to cut in front of Jeongin at the movies, even though the guy was like twice your stature. Or maybe it was during junior year of college, when he saw you at 2 amβ bare-faced, exhausted, curled up in his hoodie on the couch, nodding off mid-sentence and realized there was no one else heβd rather listen to ramble about life and cereal brands until the end of time.
But you never knew a thing.
Because what kind of selfish asshole would risk twenty plus years of friendship just to say, I wanna kiss you so bad it hurts?
What kind of friend looks at the one constant in his life, the only person whoβs witnessed all his bad days, all his awkward phases, all his heartbreaks, and confess that he wants something more?
So he kept it all in. Repressed every emotion until it was buried so deep underground that thereβs no way you could possibly detect his true infatuation for you. Through the birthdays, family gatherings, and movie marathons, the way youβd unconsciously rest your head in the crevice of his shoulder during long car rides. Every sleepy voice note youβd sent to him when you couldnβt fall asleep, every text that ended with a heart or a βlove you!β that he knew was platonicβ¦ but still made his chest tighten.
He learned to smile while watching you fall in and out of love with other people. Learned to perfect the role of the supportive best friend youβd never loseβ at the expense of being the boy youβd never choose. Because thatβs the thing about loving someone whoβs always been there.
Youβre too afraid of what might happen if theyβre suddenly not.
+
βYou think this looks okay?β You ask, finally stepping out after rummaging through half your wardrobe.
Jeongin glances up from the TikToks he was watching on his phone, sitting comfortably on your bed. He hears the faint rustle of fabric swishing around before he sees you, feet shifting nervously against the hardwood floor. Youβre in a white babydoll dress, thin straps, low-cut neckline, the soft flowy hem brushing your thighsβ for a second, he forgot how breathing works.
Youβre so pretty, it kills him, only causing him more stress and inner turmoil from staring at you for so long. He wants to thank your parents for creating such a masterpiece. If this were a cartoon, his eyes wouldβve been filled with nothing but hearts and practically jumping out from his sockets.
You strike a awkward pose. βIs it too much..?β
βNo,β he croaks, throat instantly going dry. βYou- you look great.β
You look like everything heβs ever wanted and never got to have.
He sees the way you pause, smoothing down any wrinkles on the garment, then scrunch up your nose like youβre not convinced. You do a little half-spin toward the mirror and Jeongin props himself up on his elbows, watching as you inspect yourself with furrowed brows.
You beam anyway. βIβm a kinda nervous. Feels like itβs been forever since Iβve gone out on an actual date.β
Jeongin forces a stiff smile, straightening his posture, elbows now resting on his knees, hoping that his voice doesnβt give out on him. βYouβll be fine. Jake seemsβ¦ like a decent guy.β
His voice dips ever so slightly on the word decent, but you donβt catch it. Of course you donβt.
You donβt notice how carefully he avoids eye contact. How he keeps wringing the hem of your throw pillow like it might save him from saying something reckless. You donβt see the way he keeps shifting on your bed like the mattress is made of nails.
You move towards the mirror of your vanity and start dabbing lip gloss on, tongue between your teeth like you always do when youβre concentrated. βYou think heβll like this lip color?β
Jeonginβs heart almost shatters. βYeah,β he whispers. βHeβs gonna love it.β
But he hates it. He hates all of this. Hates the way you hum a little tune to yourself while curling your lashes, the way your perfume already smells like a goodbye, and the way your phone lights up with Jakeβs name and not his.
You suddenly groan, tossing the lip gloss onto your vanity thatβs cluttered with a bunch of other products and dig through your makeup bag like it just insulted you.
βI have no idea what Iβm doing,β you laugh dryly, half out of fear and half out of excitement. βThis oneβs too pink, the other one makes me look like Iβve been kissed by a ghost, and I swear this eyelinerβs plotting violence against meββ
βYou donβt need any of that,β Jeongin says quickly, before he can stop himself.
You blink, turning to him, lip gloss wand frozen midair. βWhat?β
He swallows. βI meanβ¦ you look fine. More than fine. Youβre pretty without any of it.β
The room stills with a bitter silence and Jeongin panics.
βI-Iβm just saying,β he stammers, scratching the back of his neck and glancing everywhere but at you, βif this guy canβt accept you for who you are, like, as isβ then heβs not the one for you.β
You stare at him for a beat too long, then your gaze softens at his words, ββ¦Jeongin.β Your lips tug upward, just barely.
He swears the way you say his name will be the death of him.
You look down at your feet, suddenly shy, your hand fluttering over your mouth as if the compliment just fully hit you. A rush of heat spreading across your cheeks.
βThanks,β you mumble, eyes flicking up. βThat was.. really sweet.β
Jeongin shrugs, trying not to combust. βJust being honest.β
You face to the mirror again, a little quieter now, a little more smiley and upbeat. Still touching up your mascara, still blissfully unaware that heβs sitting there on your bed, watching the love of his life get all dolled up to go fall for someone else.
Yet he stays, because thereβs nothing else he can do.
Even when it hurts like hell.
+
The night feels like an itch under his skin.
Jeongin doesnβt go home, telling himself that heβs just βkilling timeβ by driving around aimlessly like he always does when his thoughts get too loud. But somehow, he ends up parked outside the diner down the block from where your date is happening, pretending like heβs just βin the areaβ as if itβs some kind of coincidence.
The cars still running, headlights dimmed. He fumbles with the radio, trying to drown the silence with anything that doesnβt sound like his internal monologue going back and forth. But every damn station seems to be playing some kind of love song, sappy ballads or cheesy pop lyrics about holding hands and finding βthe oneβ.
He switches the station again. Then again. And again.
No luck.
βYou are the best thingβ¦ thatβs ever been mineβ¦β
He groans and smacks the power button. Back to silence, which is even worse, somehow.
His fingers twitch around his phone as he mindlessly scrolls through different apps, reading the same unfunny tweets, the same recycled memes, and the same dumb messages from the groupchat. Staring blankly at the screen until everything fades into nothingness.
Ultimately, he gives up. Tossing his phone into the passenger seat with a defeated sigh.
Heβs now people watching through the windshield. Spotting a happy couple thatβs walking as if nothing else exists around them, the girlβs giggling like some lovestruck teenager and clinging to her boyfriendβs arm like sheβs been permanently glued to him. Another pair drinking a milkshake inside the restaurant booth next to the window, sharing a straw as they interlock hands. Some other guy pulls his girlfriend in by the waist outside the door and kisses her like itβs the easiest thing in the world.
Jeongin exhales hard through his nose, balling his hands into a fist like heβs going to punch the air.
Itβs like the universe was straight up mocking him at this point.
This is what itβs supposed to look like, right? The hand holding, the lingering glances, the closeness, the quiet knowing.
And he has that, with you. Just not in the way that counts.
Not in the way that lets him pull you close and kiss you in public. Not in the way that lets him say, God, I wish it were me instead of him.
Thereβs a constant ache in chest that settles behind his ribs, dull and relentless.
Itβs stupid. He knows itβs stupid. Youβre allowed to go on dates. You have free will to go like other people and fall in love without asking for his permission, but that doesnβt stop the nausea that keeps rising in the back of his throat like bile.
The sick pit in his stomach just wonβt dissipate.
He even picks his phone back up and hovers his thumb over your name in his contacts. Just to... check in. See how itβs going, or maybe make up some fake excuse. βHey, did you leave your charger in my car again?β Anything to hear your voice, to make sure youβre safe. To remind you that he is the one who knows your favorite coffee order and your allergies and the way you always double tie your shoelaces out of habit.
But he doesnβt hit call. He just stares blankly at the phone screen like it might explode in his hands.
And then it does.
His phone lights up with a new notification from you. Heart leaping out of his chest as he picks up on the first ring.
βHey,β he says, trying not to sound too eager.
Your voice is small, sounding mildly upset. βCan you come get me?β
Jeonginβs already starting the car. βOf course. You okay?β
There was a long pause, but you reply soft-spokenly, βYeah. Justβ¦ not what I thought itβd be.β
Your voice cracks a little on the word thought, and something in him twists hard.
βStay there,β he reassures, βIβll be there in five.β
Another pause follows suit. Then you respond with a quiet, βokay.β
He hangs up, his grip on the steering wheel grew tighter, trying his best to ignore the heat thatβs crawling up the back of his neck.
He should be relieved. Over the moon even. But mostly, heβs terrified of the outcome of this. Because tonight, for some reason, he feels as though somethingβs going to breakβ and heβs not sure if itβll be his heart, or the silence between you. Maybe both.
+
Not even ten minutes later, youβre climbing into his car, arms crossed, face unreadable.
Your perfume comes floating in with you, faint but familiar, like vanilla orchid and late nightsβ and Jeongin swears it knocks the air right out of his lungs.
You donβt say anything at first. Just buckle your seatbelt with stiff hands, staring out the windshield like it personally wronged you. Your eyelinerβs slightly smudged, your earrings are missing, and your cheeks are flushed, but not from laughter, he can tell. From frustration. From disappointment.
He doesnβt pry with questions. Just hands you the bottle of water he always keeps in his cupholder, label half-peeled from your constant fidgeting over the years.
You take it with a βthank youβ so low he barely catches it.
He watches as you untwist the cap and sip in slow silence. The streetlights flickering across your face in a rhythm that feels far too fragile.
It pains him to see you like this.
βHe talked about himself the whole time,β you mutter eventually, still choosing not to look at him. βDidnβt ask me anything.β
Jeongin watches the way your fingers pick at the label on the bottle, thumbs moving in distracted little circles. You always do that when youβre thinking too hard. He wonders if you even realize.
He wants to tell you that any guy who doesnβt ask about your favorite Studio Ghibli film within the first five minutes doesnβt deserve a second of your time. That if someone can sit across from you and not feel a magnetic pull toward your laugh, your weird stories, the way you ramble when youβre nervousβ then theyβve never had a heart worth trusting in the first place.
Instead, he replies, βthat sucks.β
Because itβs the safest thing to say when his own heart is gnawing at the inside of his ribs.
βHe also said we should hang out again,β you add, letting out a bitter laugh that sounds more tired than amused. βSaid he βvibes with my energy.β Whatever the hell that means.β
Jeonginβs grip on the steering wheel is so tight he could almost break it in half, knuckles whitening, clenching his teeth.
Heβs quite a second too long before forcing out, βDo you want to?β
You finally turn your head towards him. βNo,β you admit, looking at him. Really looking.
That almost undoes him.
Your eyes are searching, soft, but laced with something deeper. Something older. Something that knows him too well.
βHeβs not you.β
He blinks rapidly, caught off guard. βHuh?β
You shrug. βI mean, I donβt know. I just kept thinking how easy everything is with you. Likeβ¦ he didnβt laugh at my weird stories. He didnβt know how I take my coffee or why I hate pickles or that I cry during Pixar trailers. It felt like I was performing. But with you, I donβt have to.β
Jeongin swallows hard, throat going dry, his mind racing ten miles per minute.
You said it so casually. Like itβs obvious. Like itβs not unraveling every thread heβs spent years pulling taut just to keep himself together around you.
βYou shouldnβt settle for someone who makes you feel like youβre not enough,β he tries to remind you of your worth, how thereβs no need for you to deal with these sorry, weak excuses of men when he can be all you need and more.
βIβm not,β you say, voice gentler now. βThatβs why Iβm sitting here. With you.β
Something in his chest snaps upon hearing that. Itβs so abrupt even heβs shocked by it. Like something heβs been desperately trying to hold back finally breaks free.
βI canβt do this anymore.β
You freeze, raising an eyebrow of confusion. βWhat?β
He turns to fully face you now, deciding that now was the time to change everything, everything heβs been suppressing for as long he could remember.
βI canβt keep pretending that I donβt love you.β
The car goes eerily quiet. Even the night outside seems to be at a standstill.
βIβve been in love with you y/n, since we were kids,β he continues, the words come tumbling outβ raw, scared, unstoppable. βSince you wore that coat that was a hideous shade of purple every winter and made me dance with you in your living room at midnight. Iβve loved you through it all. I canβt stress enough how much you mean to me. Youβre all I think about, I canβt even look at other girls the way I look at you, thereβs no comparison. Itβs either you or nothing, I really donβt care about anyone else.β
You blink several times to register all of what heβs saying, but none of this still seems real to you. Even after heβs confessed everything, poured his whole heart out while looking at you with a straight face and candor of his actionsβ itβs still not clicking for you.
He canβt believe he just admitted to all of this out loud but truthfully, itβs like a weights been lifted off his shoulders, finally freeing himself of this mental prison heβs locked hisself in for so many years. If you say no heβll ultimately have to accept it, though he wonβt let you go just yet.
βJeongin..β your voice trails off, too lost in thought to even conjure up a proper response.
He cuts in before you get the chance to react, βYou donβt have to say anything. I know thisβll probably ruin everything and you might not want to remain friends, I- I get it. I just couldnβt watch you walk away again and wonder if maybe I shouldβve said something. I had to say it. Just once.β
Your silence is a living thing, stretching thinly between you and trembling, full of everything neither of you said your whole lifetime. The car feels too small, too intimate, too heavy with history.
And then, you reach for him.
With no hesitation, a set of lips are pressed onto his. Eyes wide open from shock, but soon melts into you, deepening the kiss with a fiery passion that could only be ignited from years worth of pining.
Heβs only ever kissed you in his daydreams but the real thing? It doesnβt compare one bit. It felt surreal kissing you, touching you, holding you this closely.
Your lips sync together in motion, connecting as one. His hands cupped your face perfectly; so soft, so warm, and inviting. Your fingers were now tangled in his hair and he tilts his head to capture more of you. The sweet taste of you was exactly as he imagined, he couldnβt believe he went this long without kissing those pretty lips of yours.
Dopamine floods his senses like static electricity, it was all too much for him yet he couldnβt stop himself. He was intoxicated by you. It was probably that favorite cherry chapstick you always wore, he knows that was your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could.
You left each other breathless by the time you pulled away. His lips red and puffy from all the pressure.
βI hope that clears up my response,β you express finally, βI know you said I may not want to remain friends after telling me this, but thatβs okay. I donβt want to be just friends, Iβve always wanted something more with you too.β
His eyes lit up. It felt like he could finally breathe again. He poked your arm, lightly touching you to make sure this wasnβt another lucid dream he couldβve been having.
He was going to ask you to pinch him but heβll save himself the embarrassment for later.
βI feel so secure when Iβm with you, itβs like nothing else matters when Iβm around you. I know how certain I am of my feelings for you. We donβt have to date right now.. we can take our time if you want. I just feel so truly blessed to have someone like you in my life.β Jeongin does his best to articulate his words but he never feels like itβs enough to convey.
There wasnβt a million words in the world that could ever describe the feelings he has for you but he was adamant on showing them.
βI love you Jeongin.β
His heart almost stopped once he heard that. This felt way better than a dream, the reality was far more sentimental. He wasnβt expecting the night to turn into a sappy love confession between you two but here you both are. Sitting in his car through the late hours, looking with nothing but admiration for one another.
βI love you y/n. Always have and always will, Iβll continue to love you in every way possible. Iβll never let you go from this day forward.β
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