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cinnajun · 10 months

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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: 365 days | pgw

summary | the first year of your relationship with park gunwook, quantified by 12 separate events.

genre | park gunwook x fem!reader, high school!au, very slice of life, fluff, angst, y/n is bisexual, roughly 1 month has passed in between every part

warnings | jealousy + attempted sabotage, the horrors of girlhood (insecurity, slight mention of beauty standards, comparison)

wc | 12.7k

a/n: if you listen close enough you can hear me screaming in agony ++ can someone please remind me how to think up ideas that don't require several thousands of words

ft. youngeun and yeseo from kep1, boys planet/redstartz junhyeon, ppl i made up

i. confession

Tears bunch in your eyes as you sit behind your school building, the intensifying heat of spring embracing you like a warm hug. You feel devastated like someone had just stabbed you through the heart and left you to bleed.

“I think you’re overreacting, [First].” Youngeun’s voice is gravelly over the phone yet still uneasy, overall impacted by the sound of her gym class. Yeseo, who’s sitting next to you, hummed, although you weren’t sure if she was agreeing with Youngeun or not. “I mean, is it so bad he knows? It was bound to happen, probably.”

“Well, no, it wasn’t,” you stuttered, trying to keep the urge to sob and scream at bay. “And, to be fair, that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about what else Yukyung was telling people without me knowing.”

Youngeun begins to speak but doesn’t get more out than a squeak, and you can almost imagine her opening and closing her mouth in an instant. Yeseo picks up the slack, saying, “Well, it’s worse to assume than to deal with the facts. Yukyung, for whatever reason, told Gunwook about your crush on him and showed him the texts, and it’s getting out among our classmates. In my opinion, there’s one course of action you should take.”

“Which is?”

“Youngeun tells Gunwook that you want to talk to him after school, and then you talk to him after school.”

You groaned audibly and Youngeun gasped, presumably in horror. You stared at her in exasperation, letting a single tear fall down your face. Yeseo wiped it off with her cardigan’s sleeve, frowning at you. “I mean, the worst that could happen is that he doesn’t feel the same way and you feel embarrassed for a couple of months. And we all unfriended Yukyung pretty much instantly, so she won’t be around anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter, still happened,” you replied. “I don’t want to see him ever again. I’d rather die than see him again.”

Yeseo put a hand on your back, while Youngeun yelped at the sound of a basketball hitting the closet she was hiding in. “I’ll ask him, and you’re gonna do it, [First]. You can’t skip a week of school during the first week of school.”

“Who said I was going to skip?”

“Every time you’re minorly embarrassed by something you skip school,” Yeseo said, looking at you like you were insane. “Like that one time you got a bad score on our math midterms during our first year and the teacher asked you what happened in front of everyone, so you skipped 2 days and sulked in your room.”

“That was warranted,” Youngeun commented, which caused Yeseo to glare at the phone. “But! Not the point. For all you know, Gunwook could like you back, and you’ll be able to say you had a boyfriend in high school. Right?”

“The chances of that are incredibly low,” you whined, drawing your knees up to your chest and burying your head in between them. “We’ve barely even talked. We just sit kind of next to each other during our cram classes, and that’s it.”

“He could be delusional too!”

“Are you calling me delusional?”

“The bell is about to ring,” Yeseo cut in, grabbing your phone out of your hands. You immediately popped out of your fetal position, reaching for it as quickly as you could. “Youngeun, leave the supply closet and ask him, please. Pick a location and text the groupchat. [First] and I have to go back to the classroom so we don’t get in trouble for skipping our study block.”

With that, she hung up and left you to your devices. The day passed agonizingly slowly after that, and you found yourself struggling to focus on anything your teacher said. At some point during your study block, Yukyung had left, leaving you alone at your desk with no seatmate to annoy or watch (not that you wanted her there, anyway) for the day. That was likely out of embarrassment, too, as now your classmates, who generally liked you, weren’t as sure on how to deal with the newfound information.

The only other thing worth noting was that, during your 5-minute break in between classes, Yeseo told your homeroom teacher what happened and she approved you switching hers and Yukyung’s desks after school, but, other than that, you felt your sanity whittling away by the minute.

Youngeun had haphazardly chosen a tree behind the gym, typically reserved for successful confessions, because she’d been staring at it out the window as she talked to Gunwook (which she described as the scariest conversation of her life) and didn’t know where else would work.

According to her, he’d blushed as she asked, accepting on the pretense that it wouldn’t take long because he promised his older brother that he’d get dinner with him that night. Initially, you lamented over the fact that you wouldn’t have anyone to stare at during your after-school classes, but it quickly dawned on you that he thought you were going to confess to him (which was true—you were going to confess to him).

Then, when you got done with class for the day, one of your classmates—Gyuvin—hit you on the shoulder on the way out with a quick “good luck!”

It took Yeseo dragging you to the gym and offering you $20 and a free fun drink afterward for you to get used to the idea you were doing this, and about another 3 minutes of you panicking at her in a hushed whisper while she told you to get over yourself. Then, Youngeun sprinted over, panting and still half in her gym clothes.

“You didn’t change after gym?”

“Not the focus! You’re actively making him wait!” she choked out, apparently exhausted from her mad dash. You rolled your eyes, dropping your bag down next to them and taking a deep breath.

“If I throw up on him, I’m going to kill you.”

With that, you began your death march to the tree, where Gunwook stood, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him made your stomach explode with butterflies, which you tried to shut down given your (supposed) fate of rejection. You were mentally preparing yourself to be in turmoil for the next few days, but deep down, all you wanted was to rewind time to when you told Yukyung about your silly, little crush and stop it from ever happening.

Your crush on Gunwook was never meant to go anywhere but your brain, and now you were walking up to him, about to pour out feelings that were half-manufactured by Yukyung convincing there was a future that would come with them.

“Hi,” you managed, causing Gunwook to spin around and shove his phone in his pocket.

“Hi,” he replied, scratching his neck as if he was unsure what to do with his hands. “Um, how are you?”

It was a stupid question, and you could tell he knew that. Of course you wouldn’t be doing well—one of your best friends told the entire world (him, and then one of his friends leaked it to the rest of the school) your entire life story (a single crush).

“Could be better.”

“Yeah.”

You looked off to the side, seeing Gyuvin and Junhyeon, who you knew were close to him, watching from a second-story window in the school building. You tried to ignore it, but you knew you’d hyperfocus on it now.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you finally breathed out, twiddling your thumbs. “Yukyung—I don’t know what to say that you don’t already know. I guess I have a bit of a crush on you. Sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. You looked back up at him, shrugging.

“Well, it’s weird. We don’t really know each other, and then a girl you don’t know very well is suddenly telling you that I’m head over heels for you.”

“You’re not?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it that way, no. Just a crush. Not much else.”

You thought there would be a weight off your shoulders once you managed to say it to his face, but it was, quite literally, the opposite. Your stomach was tightening up and your throat was closing, but you didn’t move, just staring him in the face.

“So it would be awkward if I professed my undying love for you right now.”

You flinched at that, frowning. “That was kind of mean.”

Gunwook’s face dropped when you said that, and he shook his head rapidly. “No, not—I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. I promise. It was a bad way of saying I have a crush on you too. Sorry. Uncalled for. Didn’t mean it.”

The words fell from his mouth like an avalanche, and all you could do was stare at him in awe. “Wait, really? Why?”

“Why? I don’t know. We spend a lot of time together, even if we don’t talk often,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We were in the same class for our first year, then we started at the same cram school, and now we sit near each other. You’re entertaining to watch when you’re taking notes.”

“You stare at me in class?” you asked, genuinely shocked at his admission. You thought you stared at him enough during the same classes that it was impossible he could’ve been doing the same thing. Apparently, he was good at catching you when you weren’t watching his every move. “Creep.”

“Like you don’t? If I’m a creep, what are you? You’re way worse than I am,” he replied. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. What now?”

You tapped your chin, looking back over at the window Gyuvin and Junhyeon had been in. They were gone now, presumably to meet Gunwook when your conversation was over. “We could try being a ‘thing.’”

“A thing?”

“I don’t think we know each other well enough for like—I don’t know, for me to call you boyfriend,” you replied. “So we can just be a ‘thing.’ No strings attached! And we can go on a date or two. Maybe.”

“A date or two? Whereabouts?”

You smiled, and he did too; you were shocked at how well he managed to goad information out of you. You tended to say things but never follow up on them, not unless you were pestered over and over again—it had taken Yeseo nearly a year to get it down.

“Do you like the zoo? Recently, I’ve been wanting to go to the zoo. They have a new baby bear—cub?—that I wanna see. Perhaps on Sunday? Are you free then?”

“I might be free on Sunday,” he said, handing his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, pressing a couple of buttons before handing it to you with an empty contact screen open. “How about we talk about it later? I’m late for meeting my brother.”

You typed in your name and number, sending yourself a quick text so you’d be able to initiate if you felt he didn’t text you fast enough. “Sounds good to me. I’ll see you later. Tell your brother I said hello.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Gunwook chuckled. He reached out and ruffled your hair, giving you a wide, bright smile that could’ve overpowered the sun if he tried hard enough. “I’ll see you later, so we can start our ‘thing.’”

“Yup, bye-bye. See you tomorrow.”

ii. lunchtime

You and Gunwook, mostly on purpose, don’t spend a lot of time together at school. Sometimes, you say hi and smile at him when you walk into his classroom to grab Youngeun, but, other than that, you keep it separate.

For one thing, it makes it easier to keep it “no strings attached,” as you’d proclaimed the day Yukyung briefly ruined your life, but it also was somewhat fun for you and him to not address what happened. Thanks to Gyuvin, half—if not all—of your grade had heard about it, and someone had spotted the both of you under that god-forsaken tree, but you hadn’t said a thing.

For you two, it was like nothing had happened, and, for everyone else, it was like a bomb they were just hoping would go off. It was fun—like you were living out a cliche, teen drama.

So, when Gunwook sauntered into your classroom in the middle of your lunch period, proudly holding a bottle of special juice you briefly talked about wanting, you were somewhat shocked. For the most part, you weren’t mentally prepped to interact with him during the day, especially as Yukyung watched on with her new couple of friends from the corner of the room.

You, Youngeun, and Yeseo stared at him as he approached, Gyuvin following close behind. He put the drink down in front of you, a proud smile on his face. “Look,” he said, gesturing towards it, so you looked. It was a brand of juice—they advertised it as a “smoothie,” but it was just slightly thicker juice—that you’d enjoyed a lot on a trip to the United States that you’d gone on a while back.

You hadn’t seen it once in Korea, even after taking Yeseo with you to search for it for hours. “Where in the world did you get this?” you spluttered out, picking it up. It was chilled, too, as if he’d been keeping it in a refrigerator (or, an insulated lunch box with an ice pack in it).

“He didn’t,” Gyuvin snorted, putting an arm around Gunwook’s shoulder. “Junhyeon did while he was in Busan this weekend.”

Gunwook hit him hard on the chest, clearing his throat. “Do you like it? Are you excited?”

“The right flavor and everything,” you replied, a surge of joy running through you. “Thank Junhyeon for me, okay?”

Gunwook scoffed, mumbling, “It’s not like I didn’t pay him back twice the price or anything,” under his breath. You held up your fist, to which Gunwook stared at it, somewhat dumbfounded.

“What?”

“You want a fist bump from me?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, exaggerating the movements to make it seem like he was missing the obvious. So, he bumped your fist with his, shaking his head. “See you after school, [First].”

“Yup, I’ll see you.”

And you watched him walk out, Gyuvin in tow—and, from the corner of your eye, you saw Yukyung watching his every move, up until he left the classroom.

iii. field trip

The third-year field trip was something you’d looked forward to for a long time—as a way to force students to take a break from their studying, your school sent all the first years to some fun location, paying for most of it with donations they got from alumni and parents.

This year, they’d had the bright idea to send you all to Hawaii, which had been both shocking and exciting. The farthest they’d ever sent anyone was Jeju, and that was a few years ago; but, they’d got some huge donation this year and decided to splurge.

So far, the trip had been fun, for the most part. On the airplane, you’d forced Gunwook to sit next to you so that you could hold his hand every time the plane shook (he’d laughed at you over your fear of turbulence, but you were too aware of the fact that he was rubbing your hand with his thumb to care). Almost all of your classmates, to whom you had not disclosed the nature of your “thing” yet, had stared at you every time they walked past. About halfway through, Youngeun, who’d volunteered to be the third wheel, leaned over and told you she was pretty sure the news was making its way down the plane, and people were getting up to fact-check it for the row members.

“That’s stupid,” Gunwook laughed, pulling your hand onto his tray table. “Doesn’t everyone know [First] is just afraid of planes? Nothing else going on here, not at all.”

Then Yeseo had popped her head above her seat and turned around to face you, an eyebrow raised. “Have you two kissed yet?” she’d asked out of nowhere, to which you shrugged.

“Why would we kiss when nothing is going on?”

Then, upon arrival, you and Gunwook had sat next to one another on the bus to the hotel, to which you’d promptly fallen asleep on his shoulder (since you didn’t sleep much on the plane) for the entire ride. You woke up to him holding your hand again, scrolling through his phone haphazardly.

After that, you’d had all eyes on the both of you—when you got to the hotel, while you were listening to your teachers give instructions, while keys were being handed out. And, as a result of what you assumed was anxiety over not knowing English, Gunwook and his two friends, Junhyeon and Gyuvin, followed you, Yeseo, and Youngeun around for the entire trip.

Then, on the third day of the trip, Gunwook asked if you’d want to go on a date with him. The idea was silly to you—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were two teenagers going on a date on your almost-all-expenses-paid trip to Hawaii.

That’s what you were doing now. It was the day before you were to head back home, and Gunwook had, for lack of a better word, taken you out. To a fancy restaurant—where he made you translate the entire menu and order for him—and to get some sort of fancy pineapple dessert afterward. Now, you were strolling on the beach, watching the sun fall below the horizon slowly but surely.

“How much longer until curfew?” you asked, turning around to face him. You continued walking backward, lacing your hands together behind your back.

“About half an hour. We’re close enough to the hotel that we don’t have to start walking back now, but we should think about it soon.”

You hummed, stopping abruptly. You faced the shoreline, listening to the sound of the waves draw in and out like breaths from a sleeping person. It was so alive, yet not at the same time, and it mesmerized you; you’d never seen an ocean like this before.

“You look pretty tonight,” he mused, staring at you rather than the ocean. You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the comment.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m beautiful, thank you very much.”

A question was bubbling up in your throat now, much like the water in front of you. You felt a surge of anxiety wash through your stomach, and you were mentally transported back to that tree from a couple of months ago. The pure embarrassment you felt was gone and replaced with a sort of hope that was more painful than uplifting, as if it was a glass cup teetering on the edge of a table.

“I have a question,” you started, banishing the unease from your stomach.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. He wouldn’t look away from you, no matter how much you tried to focus on the sight in front of you. A crooked smile bloomed on his face which should’ve quelled your worries in an instant, but, for some reason, it only made them worse. “I suppose I have an answer for you.”

“Do you?”

“I just might, if you manage to ask the question.”

“Okay, here I go,” you said, mustering up all your courage and turning to face him. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and you immediately felt discouraged just looking at him. He was right—he was beautiful, almost impossibly so. Yet, here you were, boring and average, barely even able to hold a T to him. Plus, the only reason you were even here was because someone you’d considered a best friend had told him you liked him, and now you were getting into your head over something that was long over.

His smile dropped a bit when he (most likely) realized you were panicking a bit, but he didn’t say anything, simply waiting patiently for you to continue. You forced yourself to regain focus, shaking your head as the image of Yukyung permeated in your mind. He grabbed both of your hands as a way to help soothe the worry, and it worked as well as it could, pulling you back into reality.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend, maybe?” you finally asked, watching as his face lit up against the sun.

“Do I?” he asked back, allowing himself to smile fully. “This is the best question I’ve ever been asked. Seriously.”

“Seriously?”

Gunwook giggled, swinging your hands around a bit. “Can I kiss you? Pretty please?”

“Can you?” you mimicked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. Gunwook giggled again, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. It was slow and sweet, his lips soft and tasting slightly of the pineapple you’d had earlier. He laughed and smiled through the entire thing, squeezing your hands in delight before letting go and wrapping his hands around your waist. As cliche as it was, you draped your hands around his neck, starting to giggle too.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours, still chuckling in delight. “This is so exciting,” he said, rocking you back and forth on the sand. “I’m so excited. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this for my entire life, you know? Even if I’ve only known you for three years. I can’t explain it—it’s unexplainable. I’m so excited.”

“You know what, I’m getting the idea you might be excited.”

And Gunwook shut you up with another elated kiss, ending your night in an impenetrable wall of pure joy.

iv. sleepover

Your parents were adventurers and you decidedly weren’t, which often meant you had your house to yourself. It was nice, mostly because it allowed you to spread out all your study stuff on the dining room table and do all of your work right then and there without your parents talking to you every 20 seconds.

Sometimes, though, things didn’t go as planned, and you had to do things you didn’t want to do. Namely, spend the night in the house completely alone. Every creak or thump made your heart beat out of your chest, which ended up in you taking a knife and a flashlight through the entire house with the emergency number pre-dialed.

Oftentimes, it ended with you not sleeping and then having to miss school because of over-exhaustion.

You were sitting in your living room while on the phone with Gunwook (he claimed you were moral support for his studying) when your mom texted you, the message starting with a bunch of emojis, which was her way of beginning a message with bad news.

“Oh god,” you said, cutting through the hour-long silence you’d maintained with your boyfriend.

“Huh? What’s up?”

“My mom texted me. There’s some huge accident on the freeway, so they’ve got the entire thing blocked off. Traffic is awful on other routes so they’re just going to pull off to a motel and sleep there tonight.”

“Oh no,” he said, and you could tell he was preoccupied with whatever math problem he was doing. “House to yourself, I guess?”

“I’m glad it’s Saturday,” you said, frowning. “I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like being completely alone in the house. I’m convinced someone’s gonna come in and kill me.”

“Hmm,” Gunwook hummed, pausing briefly. “I could come over and stay the night? I’ll leave early in the morning so they don’t find out I was there.”

Realistically, you knew you should say no because the chance of your parents finding out about Gunwook terrified you, but you had poor judgment and liked your boyfriend too much to turn down seeing him. “Would you actually? It’s kind of late, and I wouldn’t want to make you walk that much in the dark.”

“It’s not that far of a walk,” he said, and you could hear him packing his school stuff already. The sound of pencils clinking against pencils and books closing made you feel all warm and fuzzy—instead of studying for the test that was going to decide his fate as an adult, he was coming to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.

“Oh yeah, because 30 minutes is ‘not that far.’ Just get it over with and tell me you’re in love with me.”

Gunwook cleared his throat at your quip, choking on air. You snickered, finding how flustered he got at the “L-word” quite cute (as if you wouldn’t do the same thing). “I’ll be there shortly.”

He hung up the phone without saying bye, most likely out of embarrassment, which made you feel proud of yourself. And, true to his word, he showed up about fifty minutes later, balancing his school backpack on one arm and another bag on the other. “Do you know how hard it is to jump out of your window with two bags?” he asked, walking into your house as if it was his own. You wondered if he cared about the fact that he’d never actually been inside before, given he’d only ever walked you home, but you assumed his unwillingness to do his usual hello-and-hug meant he was somewhat flustered by it.

“Are you moving in, or something? What’s in the bags?”

“Well, I can’t stay the night without all my nighttime stuff,” he huffed, breezing past you and dropping his bags off next to the stairs. You watched him look around frantically, and you somewhat assumed that he’d hung up on you because he’d realized what exactly he had suggested and had no way of backing out of it now (you hoped he hadn’t even thought about backing out).

“You’re such a diva,” you scoffed, shuffling back into your living room and returning to your position on the couch. He sat next to you, leaning against the armrest and putting his legs on top of yours. You rolled your eyes, picking up the remote and pressing play.

“So, what are we watching?”

“Whatever romcom was playing when I turned the TV on,” you replied, keeping your focus on the screen. Suddenly you were feeling embarrassed even though you’d been feeling so egotistical a second ago, as you were realizing you were in more danger here than he was. He’d successfully snuck out (or so he said, but you were pretty sure he probably told his mom and then snuck out the window to avoid his dad finding out), but your parents lived here, and if they got here before you were expecting them, it was over for you.

It dawned on you that you needed to find out when they were planning on getting back, so you wrenched your phone out of your pocket, furiously typing to your mother. Gunwook noticed, pointing at you and laughing. “You were so high and mighty a second ago, and now look at you. Somebody realized they’re going to be in bigger shit than I am.”

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed, watching the little bubble that indicated your mom was typing.

“Maybe we should send her a selfie, huh? Just so she knows a random teenage boy that she doesn’t know is in her house,” Gunwook continued, sucking all of the confidence you’d once had out of the air. “She’d be super excited, right?”

“If you’re not out of my house by 5:30 tomorrow morning, I’m going to break up with you,” you announced, glaring at him. He made a face at you, shaking his head.

“Be glad I like you so much. Waking up at 5:30 is brutal. I didn’t even do that when Gyuvin got his appendix out and texted me thirty times to ask if I’d be there when he got out of surgery.”

“You liar, Gyuvin literally told me that you showed up with flowers and a get-well-soon card.”

Gunwook blushed at that, clearing his throat. “Okay, whatever, fine. Let’s just watch the movie.”

The two of you got about twenty minutes of the romcom in before he checked the time and announced that you were both going to sleep. You said he could go on his own—midnight was early for both of you, and you weren’t the one waking up at 5:30—but he got all whiney, turning the TV off and picking you up from the couch.

You’d gone through the motions of your nighttime routine together, with Gunwook’s being about fifty steps longer than yours. You ended up sitting on the floor while he put on a million serums and waited thirty minutes in between each one, claiming it was to “let each product soak into his skin.”

You texted Youngeun and Yeseo about it, not thinking about the implications behind waiting for him to finish his skincare routine. Immediately, they began blowing up your phone, and you promptly muted your group chat and their individual text threads, not wanting to deal with the onslaught of questions they were likely unleashing onto you.

Then, you looked up to see Gunwook putting on a lip mask. Knowing it was probably the last step in his routine, you hopped up from the floor, staring at the small, pink container that the gel lived in. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to try that out,” you said, not thinking about it too hard. “Is it nice? Does it work?”

“Shouldn’t you know better than anyone whether it works or not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You slapped him hard on the shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. “Okay, geez, yes, it works. Do you want to try some?”

“Oh, can I—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, Gunwook leaned down and kissed you somewhat hard, almost causing you to stumble back a bit. Either way, you almost immediately broke it off, incredibly flustered at the act. You slapped him again, although this time it was a million times weaker. “You’re so stupid, oh my god, you cliche loser.”

“Be grateful I was willing to give you any, this stuff is expensive,” Gunwook said, cackling. He put a bit more on his finger, rubbing it into his lips to compensate for what he lost from kissing you. “I thought you liked kissing me, no?”

“I also like the thought of you getting hit by a train. These things aren’t mutually exclusive,” you huffed, looking to the side. “Whatever. I’m going to my room.”

“Ooh, me too,” he said, draping an arm around your shoulders as you walked past him. He kept himself in step with you, flicking the bathroom light switch off as you both exited the room.

“Who said we’re sleeping in the same room?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Gunwook laughed in your face, causing you to frown.

“Okay, sure, but one noise and you’ll be prancing into the guest room like a scared dog.” “Who said I had a guest room? Go to the couch.” You wiggled out from under his arm, opening the door to your bedroom and flicking the lights on. Gunwook continued following after you, but quickly walked past you and climbed under the duvet on your bed. Somehow, he’d already plugged his phone in and put his bags neatly in the corner of your room—it must’ve been when he walked out to grab his toner pads from his bag—and had settled into your bedroom quite nicely. You stared at him in awe as he yawned, patting the bed next to him.

“It’s bedtime.”

“For you.”

He laughed at you again, patting the bed once more. You shut your bedroom door behind you, turning your phone’s flashlight on and turning the lights off as soon as they’d come on. You shuffled over to the bed, sliding in next to him and cuddling up to him. He reciprocated, putting an arm on your waist and giggling.

“You giggle too much.”

“Good night, [First]. I won’t wake you up tomorrow morning, but I’ll be out by 5:30. Promise.”

Even though you weren’t tired, you fell asleep like a baby next to Gunwook, basking in the warmth he brought. You were pretty sure you’d fallen asleep before him, actually, but you swore up and down it was because he’d been humming to you and rubbing your back in a way that was more relaxing than you would’ve liked it to be.

So, when you woke up the next morning, the sun barely peeking through your curtains, to find him gone, you felt relief. You groaned, turning over to search for your phone, which was, as always, placed on your bedside table.

You picked it up, barely being able to make out the time—5:01 am. Huh, you thought, frowning. He left earlier than he needed.

And then you looked at your notifications—three texts from your mother.

2:34 am—Hi honey, the motel was uncomfortable and we couldn’t sleep, so we’re getting an early start. I know you get paranoid, and I hope you’re not awake, but texting to let you know just in case you are. Should be there about 4:30.

3:47 am—Update, we’ve hit some early traffic, so probably closer to 4:45. It might still be 4:30 if we’re lucky.

Finally, 4:11 am—We got lucky!!! We’ll be there in 10. Assuming you’re asleep…am glad. Can’t wait to be in my own bed.

You shot up from your bed, suddenly feeling more awake than you’d ever been in your life. With what little sunlight there was, you looked to the corner of the room, clearly seeing two black bags that didn’t belong to you. Then, an extra phone on your nightstand.

Panic set in. You, as quietly as you could, got out of bed, shuffling to the door. With a hand haphazardly placed on the knob, you pulled your door open, cringing at even the slightest of noises. You heard the sound of a glass hitting your table downstairs, and you felt like crying.

Slowly, you tiptoed down the stairs, catching sight of Gunwook, blue sweater on and exhaustion written on his face, sitting across from both of your parents. Breakfast was ready on the table, and Gunwook had a full plate in front of him, but it had barely been touched.

He noticed you first, looking up at you from the table. He looked violently uncomfortable, pleading for you to come save him, and you just about turned around and went back to your room.

“[First],” your dad said, turning his head to look at you. “Why don’t you come join us? I suppose you have a few things to explain.”

v. ice cream

You loved summer for a multitude of reasons—the lack of school, the increase in fun treats, and the overall happiness that came upon everyone during your one month off of responsibility. So, when you caught wind of a fair opening up, you knew you couldn’t pass up going.

Your first invites were Yeseo and Youngeun, since the three of you always spent your summers at amusement parks and pop-ups. But, they’d had the bright idea to invite along your boyfriend and his couple of friends—it would be okay, they said, since there’s three of you and three of them. So, you did, and you were entirely grateful that you had.

You didn’t know Gyuvin or Junhyeon very well before today; Gyuvin tended to follow Gunwook around, and Junhyeon had bought you juice once upon a time, but that was about it. It was the same for Gunwook and your couple of friends, as the most they’d interacted with him was on your plane ride to Hawaii.

Seeing your friends getting along with his warmed your heart, and it had put together a day you would never forget, most likely. About twenty minutes ago, your four accompaniments had made up some excuse as to why they needed to separate from the two of you, which had left you strolling through the fair as the sun was beginning to set.

The sky had erupted into a million different colors, namely pinks and purples, which you were particularly enamored by. You’d endearingly linked your arm with Gunwook’s and you’d been walking through the local artist alley that they’d put up.

“I’m glad it’s cooling down,” you said, staring at a booth where a woman was showing off all of her handmade jewelry pieces, which you found to be quite impressive. “As much fun as a fair is, it always sucks when it’s too hot to enjoy.”

“It wasn’t that hot today, though, was it?” he replied. “I mean, it got warm around 3, but that was just about it. I thought today was relatively tame compared to the rest of the week.”

“Okay, Fireboy, whatever you say. But, for the record, tame compared to the rest of the week doesn’t mean much when it was nearly 35° the other day,” you scoffed. Gunwook chuckled, and you looked over at him, intending on continuing to talk about the heat. But, a booth behind him caught your eye, distracting you from whatever you were planning on saying next.

You unlocked your arm from his, smiling mischievously at him. “Wait here,” you said excitedly, pulling your wallet out of your tote bag. You quickly walked over to the ice cream booth that you’d seen in the distance, the thought of how cold it would be tainting your mind. Even just a little bit of freedom from the heat was enough to sweep you off your feet, at this point.

“What would you like?” the server asked, to which you smiled at her, staring at the menu.

“Um, just two vanilla cones, please,” you said, realizing you had no clue what flavor of ice cream he’d even want. You hoped he didn’t have a terrible disdain for vanilla, but you doubted he did, given you’d never seen him actively dislike any food in your life. You got the amount of money it cost out of your wallet and placed it on the counter, shoving your wallet back in your bag.

The server handed them to you, and you thanked her, turning back around to hobble back to where you’d left Gunwook. And, as you did, you were met with quite possibly the worst sight in the world—he stood off to the side of the jewelry booth talking to someone. Namely, he was talking to Yukyung.

Of course she would be here—before she’d broken your trust, she tagged along on your summer adventures. She was your best friend once upon a time, and now, she was not much other than a bad memory, and she was talking to your boyfriend.

You didn’t know how to describe the feeling it evoked. It wasn’t jealousy—you knew what jealousy felt like, and this was too mellow and depressing to be jealousy. Yukyung looked gorgeous, as she always did, dressed in a pretty, flowy, red sundress that just barely brushed against the tops of her shoes. Her makeup was perfect and rosy to match the dress, and she’d braided white ribbon into her hair, which you thought made her look even more elegant than she had before.

Oh, you thought, biting your lip. This is inadequacy.

You watched them talk, and you watched the way she smiled and the way he seemed uncomfortable just from the way he stood. For a brief moment, you thought they even looked a bit good together, but that thought was quickly washed away when you felt ice cream drip onto your finger.

When you looked back up, she was gone, and Gunwook had gone back to lingering. You shook your head, jogging up to him with a smile. “Happy summer,” you said, handing it out to him. He smiled back at you, taking the ice cream cone from your hand.

“Thank you,” he said, taking a big bite straight from the top. You widened your eyes in shock and your face distorted into one of disgust.

“You bite ice cream?”

“And what about it? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Yeah, actually, I do. That’s weird and strange.”

“You know what else is weird and strange?”

“Huh?”

“The fact that you’re letting your ice cream melt all over your hand.”

vi. overwhelmed

You’re wondering how long you can get away with staying in the bathroom before someone notices that you’ve been gone for much longer than you were expecting. You hug your knees to your chest, playing a mindless game in hopes it’ll calm you down at least somewhat.

You knew this would happen at some point—every upperclassman you’d talked to told you that, in the months approaching your college entrance exams, your mental health would plummet. From panic attacks in the bathroom during math classes to not being able to fall asleep until four in the morning.

You just underestimated how much it sucked to feel like this in the first place. You’re no stranger to stress, that much is certain, but this was much more real. And, this sort of panic hit you anywhere and everywhere—including Gyuvin’s birthday party.

Briefly, you glanced at the time—8:02. You’d been in the bathroom for about 10 minutes, and nobody had come looking for you yet, which was good. The bad news was that you weren’t any closer to calming down and were feeling utterly helpless.

As if you’d jinxed yourself, Gunwook texted you at that very moment, asking where you’d gone. You half-assed your reply, saying you were still in the bathroom taking a break from the chaos, ignoring the temptation to ask him to come help you. It would be mean to Gyuvin and him—so, for the sake of your sanity, you’d stay quiet.

Meanwhile, Gunwook stood in one of Gyuvin’s hallways, staring at his phone. Junhyeon had followed him back as Gyuvin was well entertained by Ricky, who he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, and stood next to him, leaning against the wall.

“Things have been weird lately.” Gunwook frowned, reading over your text again and again. Junhyeon tilted his head inquisitively.

“Weird how?”

“Just…I don’t know, she’s been weirdly distant from time to time. Everything will be fine, and she’ll shut off with no warning. It happens no matter where we are, too—if we’re studying, if we’re walking home, if we’re eating dinner. It’s strange.”

“Could it just be test jitters? I know a lot of couples who broke up in anticipation of the test, with plans to get back together afterward. Like Yuna and Jaechan, in class 4. They did that.”

Gunwook’s frown deepend. “I don’t want to break up with her, though,” he sighed, watching as the typing bubble on your end appeared and disappeared. “Would it be weird to look for her? Like would she find that strange?”

“She probably walked off because she didn’t want to take you away from Gyuvin, but Ricky’s here now, so I don’t think it would be a bad idea, per se,” Junhyeon said, patting his shoulder. “But make sure she doesn’t feel bad taking you away from everything. I think Gyuvin would understand. And Ricky wants to meet her, so no harm in making sure nothing’s wrong.”

Gunwook bit the edge of his lip, shoving his phone into his pocket. Gunwook gave Junhyeon a pat on the shoulder, and he nodded, walking back toward the bulk of the party.

The bathroom was behind a bed sheet curtain that Gyuvin had hung up before the party, with a lame “do not enter” sign taped to it. He’d proceeded to give you, Gunwook, and Junhyeon special permission to break the rules, as the three of you had been in the house before and knew which rooms were okay to enter and which ones weren’t.

The door was closed and the light was on, which meant you’d gone out of your way to go to the off-limits bathroom, where Yeseo and Youngeun wouldn’t be able to find you. He frowned, raising his hand to knock on the door.

Then, he heard a small sniffle behind the door and stopped. Gunwook had never seen you cry—early into your relationship, you’d told him you weren’t a crier, and not many things pushed you to that point. At the time, it had been relieving, as he didn’t know you well enough to even attempt to comfort you.

But, now a good three months had passed, and he still had no clue what to do, which made him feel more stressed than relieved. Nevertheless, now that he knew, he couldn’t just leave you, so he knocked on the door.

Your response was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Gunwook took that as an invitation to open the door, finding you sitting on the floor of Gyuvin’s bathroom while holding your phone. You weren’t crying, but he could tell you were close to it. He slipped inside, closing the door behind him, and sitting next to you on the ground.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting closer to you so you’d be shoulder-to-shoulder. You shrugged, looking off to the side.

“I’m stressed. You know, with the college entrance exams and graduating stuff, the world is just a lot right now. I didn’t think it would hit here, though, but the number 18 being passed around made me think about it too much. It’s silly.”

“No, it’s not,” Gunwook replied. “It’s okay to be stressed out about something stressful, even if you’re at a birthday party. And it’s okay to tell me because Gyuvin’s friend came to surprise him after he moved to California, so he’s not upset that I’m gone. Okay?”

Your lip quivered a bit, and Gunwook put his arm around you, pressing you into his side. He rubbed your shoulder reassuringly as you sniffled again, obviously having to try harder to keep your feelings in.

At that moment, you wanted to spew everything at him. Your feelings of insecurity towards Yukyung, the stress you felt knowing he was going to get into some fancy university and you probably weren’t, how scary everything was right at this moment.

But, you stayed quiet and chose to burst into tears instead. The moment one tear escaped from your eye, the rest did, too, and you found yourself crying into Gunwook’s chest. He was rocking you back and forth, rubbing your back while you covered his shirt in your tears.

You felt miserable—if you could, you wanted to pause time, run outside, and scream. At what, you were unsure, but you needed it, more than you needed anything else in the entire world. You could only take this for so much longer.

“I’m here for you,” Gunwook whispered, squeezing you gently. “I’ll always be here, I promise.”

You took his words to heart.

vii. wisdom teeth

On day four of Gunwook’s wisdom-teeth recovery, you’d been asked to be his caregiver, which you were okay with. His mom, who was infinitely grateful that you’d offered to take care of her son, assured you that he was technically cleared to go back to normal after day 3, but he was still feeling a bit wonky, and his pain medicine enhanced the wonkiness.

Your jobs were as such: make soup or mashed potatoes when he asked, remind him to clean his wounds if he forgets, and hang out with him. You found the list quite easy and told his mom that you’d make sure he was all good and cared for.

You underestimated, however, how needy your boyfriend would be. The moment you’d walked into his bedroom to wake him up, he attached himself to you, whining about how much he’d missed you over the past few days. He spoke as if you’d gone off to war and left him behind with your nonexistent children, insisting that your absence had ruined his life.

After you managed to make him brush his teeth, spray salt water into his mouth, and eat his breakfast (a bowl of yogurt), he passed out on the couch, leaving you to do whatever seemed appealing at the moment. Initially, you spent your time scrolling through all the selfies he’d sent you of his face all swollen and puffy, which had got you giggling. Then, you had the bright idea to help

You started by slightly cleaning his room up, feeling pretty good about yourself as you washed his clothes and his sheets. In your mind, you were building a resume to ensure his mom liked you, and you were going to earn extra affection from it, so you didn’t care about the repetitiveness at all.

About halfway through your cleaning adventures, Gunwook appeared in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at you folding the load of laundry you did. “How are you?” you asked, continuing to fold his t-shirts.

“Have I ever told you that you’re perfect?” he mumbled, shuffling over and draping himself onto you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and shoved his face into your neck, nearly knocking you over by putting his entire weight on you without warning.

“Only every day,” you replied, giggling. “Seriously though, how are you? Anything feel off or more painful than it did before you napped?”

“No,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your neck. “Stop sounding like my mom. It’s weird.”

“What do you want me to say? ‘I hope you get dry socket?’”

“It’s better than mom-speak,” he replied. “She’s going to love you after today. Not gonna shut up about it.”

“That’s the entire reason that I’m doing all of this.”

“And not to help out your hurting boyfriend? You’re terrible.”

You scoffed, finishing folding the rest of his clothes. “Are you hungry?”

You patted his arm and Gunwook unattached himself from you, letting you turn around to face him. He rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. “No. I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you a lot.”

“Did you?”

“My mom said I cried about you being at school right after I got out of surgery,” he replied. You widened your eyes, not expecting him to be that forward about it. “I don’t like being away from you for so long. I hope we never, ever separate.”

You smiled, half-heartedly punching him in the shoulder. “I hope you stay this nice even after you feel fully better.”

Gunwook gave you a serious look as if he was thinking hard about something. You waited awkwardly, staring at one another as he sounded out whatever he was thinking in his head. “Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about something.”

“Which is…?”

“I’m going to say something,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I’m not expecting a reply. I just need to say it. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Okay, go on ahead. I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if whatever he was going to tell you was stressing him out. It made you get a bit anxious, wondering if he was going to break some terrible news to you. “Over the past couple of days, I’ve missed you a lot, more than I missed Gyuvin and Junhyeon combined. And it was hard only being able to talk to you through texting, even though I only text my friends for days on end sometimes. And it got me thinking about everything, you know? Because it’s all I’ve had to entertain myself since I got my teeth pulled.”

“Right.”

“I love you, [First]. A lot. And it’s okay if you’re not ready to say that yet, I get it. But I do. Truthfully. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

It felt like a rock was stuck in your throat. You opened your mouth expecting words to come out, but they didn’t—so, you just stood there, staring at Gunwook. He stared back at you, eyes glossy from tiredness and cheeks pink. You weren’t ready—the words were so big and so scary, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love him, you just couldn’t find the words to say it.

Your solution to this was to engulf him in a hug, latching to his waist like you’d done a second ago. No words were needed as he did the same, and, for a while, you stood there, enjoying one another’s company.

viii. mirrors

You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this gross when looking into a mirror. The dress you’re wearing is gorgeous—it’s long, flowy, and summery, the type of dress that doesn’t look bad on anyone. Yet, staring at yourself right now, you feel utterly disgusting.

It’s the same type of dress you saw Yukyung wearing at the fair, and, when you look at yourself, all you can do is compare yourself to her. Even when you were best friends, this was a problem you had, but it wasn’t nearly as awful when she made you feel safe and loved. Now, it felt threatening and nauseating.

Gunwook knocked on the door of your dressing room, causing you to wince. “[First], are you done? Can I see?”

“Yeah, sure. One second.”

You quickly retied the bow around your waist, hoping it would make you feel a little less awful. It didn’t have the intended effect, but you turned around anyway, opening the door to the dressing room. Gunwook’s expression bloomed into a smile the moment he saw you, but, instead of feeling loved, you only remembered the way he looked at Yukyung with slight disdain at the fair while she wore the same thing.

“You look so beautiful,” he said, which caused you to subconsciously frown. He noticed immediately, his smile morphing into a frown to mirror you. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?”

You turned around, staring at yourself in the mirror once more. “I don’t feel pretty in it,” you said, trying to be as upfront with your emotions as you could. You saw Gunwook’s jaw drop in his reflection in the mirror as if he couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“How in the world could you not feel pretty? It fits you perfectly, and it’s entirely on theme for your cousin’s wedding. You look gorgeous, I swear. Everyone would agree with me.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, hoping and praying that, if he said it for a third time, the image of Yukyung in your mind would miraculously go away. He nodded earnestly, making the most serious look you’d ever seen him produce.

“One thousand percent. And I’m not just saying it because I’m your boyfriend, I mean it. You look beautiful, and every other synonym of beautiful. I’m serious.”

You nodded, fabricating a smile so you could take it off and put your sweater back on. “Okay, I’ll get it then. I’m sure my mom will agree.”

You shut the dressing room door, fighting the urge to slam your head into the mirror. You just pulled the dress off of you, replacing it with your normal clothes and putting it back on the hanger, swiftly exiting the room so you’d no longer be facing the mirror.

After that, you’d tried to escape the mall as quickly as you could, dragging Gunwook through the corridors like you were on a mission. He’d followed without saying anything, but you could tell he was somewhat confused—and you hoped that confusion would go away when you arrived at the bus stop just as it arrived.

Gunwook knew you better than that, though, shooting you multiple inquisitive looks for the duration of your bus ride. And, the moment you got off, he whistled a small tune, which was a clear sign that he was going to bring it up.

“So, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?” You feigned ignorance, hoping he’d get the message and leave it alone. He wouldn’t, though, and it was now a question of whether he meant today only, or why you’d been acting so strange over the past month or so.

“You’ve been acting weird for a while, [First]. Not all the time, just sometimes, and it has me worried. Did I do something? Or is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“I’m just on edge,” you lied, clearing your throat. “Exams are next month. I don’t like the idea that a single test could dictate the rest of my life, and the idea that, if I do poorly, I have to spend another year studying for it.”

“Are you sure that’s it? You seem fine every time we’re studying, and your grades are good. You don’t ask for nearly as much help as you did a few months ago either.”

“I promise. Things will go back to normal next month, I swear.”

“Okay.”

Great, you thought, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. He knew you were lying, and now you had one month to fix your ex-best-friend troubles before you had to face your issues. And, you had no idea how.

You kicked the rock again, and it flew out in the street, falling into a storm drain, never to be seen again.

ix. exams

Before today, you didn’t think your hands could hurt this bad. Nor did you think your brain could hurt this bad, either.

The moment you walked into Gunwook’s room, you drop everything you’re holding, face-planting into his bed. He laughed at you, and you could hear him neatly placing everything he was holding onto his desk.

“How can you unpack things right now?” you asked, mentally praising whoever created mattresses. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.”

“I’m good at school stuff, that’s why,” he replied. Outside, the rain that you’d dealt with walking to his house got worse, and you briefly considered the possibility that you wouldn’t be returning home tonight unless one of your parents were willing to drive to Gunwook’s house. “Do you want something else to wear? Other than your uniform.”

“Really?” you asked, hopping out of his bed. He nodded, opening his drawer and taking out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants.

“They’ll probably be a little big,” he said, handing them to you. You waved him off, shaking your head.

“They’re not this god-awful uniform, so they’re winners in my book.”

You practically skipped out of his room and into the bathroom, changing into the pajamas he’d given you hastily. They were soft and smelled like the detergent his mom bought (which smelled exactly like you thought Gunwook would smell, back when you just had a delusional crush on him).

Before you went back to his room, you folded your uniform, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked exhausted and you felt it too, overloaded from the hours of straight testing that you’d endured for the sole purpose of going to university. You were so tired you couldn’t even muster the strength to be worried about your test scores.

You shuffled back into Gunwook’s room, shutting the door behind you. He was already laying down, scrolling through his phone and wearing the black-and-white sweater he’d been so obsessed with recently. You put your uniform on top of your bag, which he’d moved to a chair in the corner of his room, before collapsing on top of him and forcing your hands around his waist.

The act caused him to laugh at you before ruffling your hair, kissing you atop the crown of your head. “I’m proud of you,” he said, and you felt his chest rumble as he talked. “I’m sure you did well.”

“Stop being sappy,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot more tired than you had been. “But I’m proud of you too. I know you did well.”

He hummed, and you assumed he went back to scrolling through his phone, which you weren’t angry about. You had about five minutes before you fell asleep on him, and you were fine spending it in complete silence save for whatever random thought you had.

“Oh, did you see the Yuna-Jaechan reunion? It was, like, dramatic. He gave her some super expensive necklace or something.”

“I didn’t see it, but I heard about it. Junhyeon hasn’t shut up about it. He thinks it’s hilarious.”

“If we’d done the CSAT breakup, would you have bought me a super expensive necklace?”

“We wouldn’t have, but I would’ve bought you the most expensive necklace ever. With Gyuvin’s money.”

“Aw, how romantic.”

It went quiet again, and you felt yourself fading quickly. The rhythmic up-and-down of Gunwook’s chest paired with the rain pitter-pattering against the window was putting you to sleep with ease, to the point where you could barely keep your eyes open.

And then a bright flash and near-immediate thunder awoke you instantly, causing you to flinch hard. Gunwook laughed at you instantly, causing you to feel embarrassed.

“Oh, is someone afraid of thunder?”

“No,” you huffed, closing your eyes again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Okay, whatever you say. But that jump was pretty intense. I almost thought you were convulsing, was scared that the test had killed you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Good night, [First]. Sleep well.”

Now aware that you were enduring a thunderstorm, the booming noise that came with the rain only added to your sleepiness. Within minutes, you were almost completely asleep, barely able to register when Gunwook laughed at something on his phone or shifted slightly.

“I love you,” he whispered, putting a single hand on your waist. With that, you were asleep and entirely dead to the world for the next few hours.

x. gossip

You didn’t like the way Youngeun was looking at you. She couldn’t keep secrets—it was obvious she knew something, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly she could know.

Yeseo, on the other hand, seemed completely fine, even if Youngeun kept giving her worried glances. She simply drank her juice, mixing her noodles around with seemingly no intent to actually eat them. It was silent at your table, the sun beating down on you as you sat outside the 7/11 you’d all agreed to go to after school that day.

“What is up with you two?” you finally asked, frustrated with whatever was happening. Youngeun winced and Yeseo put her drink down, balancing her chopsticks on top of her bowl of ramen. It was silent for a few moments, and you felt anxiety eating you up.

“There’s a rumor going around,” Youngeun blurted out, causing you to tilt your head. Yeseo crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

“It’s not a big rumor. It’s small and contained, and it shouldn’t get much bigger, but we don’t want you to hear it from someone random, or to overhear it when you don’t mean to. We don’t think it’s true, but you deserve to know.”

“Okay, just tell me. I don’t need this huge build-up.”

“There’s a small group, and I mean small group, that think Yukyung and Gunwook are dating behind your back.”

You went quiet, feeling your heart drop into your stomach. Realistically, you knew it wasn’t true—from the way Gunwook talked to you to the way he looked at you, there was no possible way that this was true. The part of you that was borderline traumatized by her sudden switch up on you believed it in an instant, though.

“Do they have any proof?”

“Apparently, they see her talking to him a lot. I mean, she doesn’t hang out in your classroom often, ‘cause her new friends are in mine and Gunwook’s class. And, to be fair, they aren’t wrong, she does talk to him a lot, but he doesn’t like it. It wouldn’t shock me if she’s trying to get him to break up with you, but they’re not dating,” Youngeun said, suddenly sounding a lot angrier than she did before. “I’ve seen him shoot her down several times. But people take it the wrong way, I guess.”

“Long story short, don’t believe it, [First]. We both know it’s not true and if you start hearing it from other people, ignore it. Okay?”

Like the world was playing an awful, cruel joke on you, your phone started ringing, and one look confirmed your suspicions. You picked up, hearing Gunwook’s voice come through, clear as day. “Do you want to see a movie tomorrow?” he asked, skipping over the greeting. Intrusively, you thought, would he go with her, too? “I’ll pay. It’s a showing of a Ghibli movie that Yujin said was good.”

“Sure,” you said, feeling Youngeun’s and Yeseo’s eyes burning through you, as if to say don’t you dare overreact about this. “What time?”

You were going to overreact about it anyway, though. You couldn’t do this, at least not with Yukyung—or, at least the thought of her—breathing over your shoulder at every moment. She meant too much to you that your mind was racing through every single thought you’d had over the past few months.

She was your best friend, and you’re pretty sure that, before Gunwook came into the picture, you were in love with her. You spent hours upon hours with her, and now you spend hours looking through the old pictures that you refuse to delete. You’re stuck on her—not in love with her anymore, but yearning for a friendship you lost—and it’s getting in the way of your relationship, and your mind concludes that there’s one viable outcome.

And, now, you have an excuse to carry it out.

xi. her

You don’t have the time to knock on Gunwook’s door before he throws it open. He hugs you immediately, picking you up and spinning you around right there in his doorway, and, for a minute, your mind is clear of all the terrible things that you’ve been trapped with for the past month.

“We did it,” he cried out, putting you back down so he could see your face. “We did it! Oh my god, how could we not have done it? We were always going to get in.”

About twenty minutes ago, both you and Gunwook received an email from Seoul National University that you’d gotten in. After you’d cried for four hours over your good CSAT scores, you nearly passed out at this news, wondering in what world you had deserved this. And, among your caving-in mind over Gunwook and Yukyung, you’d immediately left your house and ran to Gunwook’s.

He cupped your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips in utter joy. You laughed, feeling immensely happy for the both of you.

You tripped over your feet as you walked into his house, kicking off your shoes and emerging into his living room. “I never thought this would happen,” you said, pacing around the room. Gunwook watched you from behind the couch, smiling. “I mean, for the last month, I’ve just—I haven’t caught a break. I’ve been miserable every waking moment and now I finally have something to be happy over. Can you believe that?”

You look at him, and you watch his smile drop. You backpedal over what you said, realizing that you’d let your little secret slip; since Youngeun and Yeseo had told you about the rumor, you’d done an excellent job at hiding your panic, acting like everything was fine when it wasn’t in the slightest.

“What do you mean you’ve been miserable?”

You stopped pacing, and the room went quiet. In an instant, you’d knocked the happiness out of the room and brought in everything you’d been avoiding. The breakup plan you’d thought of night after night flashed in your mind, along with Yeseo telling you that you were an idiot for even considering it.

“I don’t know where this came from,” he continued, his voice a bit tight. “But I was under the impression everything was okay. We took the test and you looked better—why wouldn’t you tell me you were miserable?”

You weren’t sure what to say. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt nauseated, no longer feeling the excitement of the college acceptance you’d yearned for since you were a kid. “It’s stupid,” you said, your voice small. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know if you understand how that sounds to me,” he said, and you were getting the idea that he also had an issue that he hadn’t been talking about, either. “But we’ve spent a lot of time together over the last month, and you saying that you’ve been miserable the entire time sounds a lot like you saying you were miserable being with me.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant.” You shook your head, feeling mortified at the idea. “I promise, that’s not it. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Then why won't you tell me? I don’t think I’m entitled to hear anything from you that you don’t want to talk about, but when it’s been torturing you for months, [First], I feel like I deserve to know. Especially since it seems like Youngeun and Yeseo haven’t gotten any of the side effects.”

You bit your lip, closing your eyes. “You know Yukyung was my best friend, right?” Even saying it aloud made tears bunch into your eyes. For the first time since nearly a year ago, now, you were facing something you hadn’t even talked about with your mom. “Like, best friend. We’ve been—we were friends from our first year of middle school. She was my everything. And she threw it all away over—over you, and it’s been hard for me to stomach it.”

Gunwook rolled up his sleeves, leaning on the couch. “That happened in March,” he said, almost sounding frustrated. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, rather, he was probably angry that Yukyung had any say in your relationship even though you’d never even spoken about her.

“It killed me, Gunwook. I didn’t sleep well for a week. I mean, she was telling people things I told her in middle school, running around and painting a picture of me that I didn’t know she had.” You felt exasperated, unsure of how to convey what you needed to without sharing a secret you’d never shared with anyone. “It was hard for me. Even though I was happy about us, I couldn’t get over losing her like that with no warning. And then, I saw her talking to you at the fair, and then Yeseo and Youngeun told me about the rumors, and—”

“Rumors?” he interjected, furrowing his eyebrows. “What rumors?”

“People think you’re cheating on me,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. That seemed to confuse Gunwook, as he looked down, staring at the couch rather than looking at you. “It’s just hard, okay? It’s hard.”

“And you couldn’t have told me you felt like this? It didn’t cross your mind, even for a second, to just be honest?”

“Well why didn’t you tell me that she’s been talking to you at every chance she gets?” you rebutted. That caused him to wince, and you watched him realize that he couldn’t say much, either. “It’s not like we’re both innocent, here. So let’s get it over with. Now.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Gunwook said, pushing off the couch and mirroring your stance. “Gyuvin brought it up during our second year before we knew each other. It didn’t cross my mind again until I saw you staring at her when I came in to give you your calculator back. And then—it’s been months and you haven’t said you loved me.”

Every muscle in your body tensed, and it, once again, occurred to you that you could never pull anything over on Gunwook.

“Are you in love with her?”

You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling drier than it ever had. “I was. A long time ago.”

It went silent again, and you wondered if he believed you. “I promise you it’s in the past. It was only during my first year and some of my second, but I got over it when she started dating Seungeon. And they lasted long enough for me to get over it, and we added Youngeun to the mix, so I was preoccupied. That’s in the past. But it doesn’t change that she threw out five years of our friendship without a second thought.”

He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes, beginning to pace back and forth. You let him think, hoping that your defense was sound enough that he wouldn’t break things off then and there.

“Do you love me, [First]?”

Two months ago, Yeseo had asked if you’d said “I love you” yet. You’d, embarrassingly, had to share that Gunwook had but you hadn’t, which perplexed both of them. And, when they asked why, all you’d been able to tell them was that the last person you’d said “I love you” to was Yukyung, the night before Youngeun called you, telling you everything she’d heard.

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I do. I love you.”

Right in front of you, Gunwook burst into tears, walking straight past the couch and enveloping you in his arms. “I thought you were going to break up with me for so long,” he choked out, squeezing you so hard you could barely breathe. “I was terrified the entire time, and I thought things got better after the exams, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I was so scared, [First]. I love you so much that I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

“I love you too,” you said, although it was muffled. “I promise. And I didn’t love her as much as I love you.”

xii. graduation

You were realizing that your claim that you didn’t cry often was quickly becoming a lie. You were sitting on the floor of your room, holding your diploma to your chest while tears streamed from your eyes. Gunwook was staring at you with a mixture of amusement and worry as you rocked yourself back and forth.

“Youngeun is leaving me,” you said, hiccuping. “Both of them are. For Japan. I’m going to have to make new friends.”

“But you’ll still be able to talk? They won’t even be in a different timezone.”

“Okay, and?” you said, hiccuping. “It’s so far. I won’t be able to go to 7/11 with them anymore.”

“We can go to 7/11?”

“That’s different, you’re my boyfriend. 7/11 is a commitment when it’s with you.”

“What does that even mean?”

You let out another Earth-shattering sob, and you supposed that convinced Gunwook to come over and attempt to comfort you. “There, there,” he said sarcastically. “Japan is very far. And you’ll have to pay more to call them. I’m sorry.”

“At least try to sound a little serious!”

“Neither Junhyeon nor Gyuvin got into SNU.”

“Okay, but they’re still in Korea, so you’ll be fine. There’s no train to Tokyo here.”

Gunwook wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leaning his head on yours. “It’ll be okay. They’ll be here over breaks and you’ll get to see them then, right? And you always have the—wait, why don’t you have a picture of us framed?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, pointing to your dresser, which was right in front of you. On top were multiple framed pictures of the three of you, smiling, laughing, and doing other things. “What’s up with that? Am I less important than them?”

“Shut up.”

“No. I’m going to buy a disposable camera right now, and we’re going to take pictures so you can print and frame them.”

You rolled your eyes, wiping away your tears. “Okay. Whatever you say. Even though you’re my wallpaper, and you’re the only number pinned in my text messages, and you’re the only person who’s ever known the password to my phone.”

“You love me.”

“Not when you’re a greedy loser.”

“Aw, I love you, too.”

thank you for reading !

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 one shots #zb1 fluff #zb1 angst #zb1 scenarios #zb1 imagines #park gunwook x reader #gunwook x reader #gunwook scenarios #gunwook angst #gunwook fluff #gunwook imagine

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ageofevermore · 11 months

Text

STRAWBERRY PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH

SUMMARY — natasha swings by to spend the day with you, bringing along somebody else to ease you into the pack dynamic

WARNINGS — omegaverse, soulmates, mentions of panic attacks and the aftermath of panic attacks, blood, kitchen knife, natasha showing off some dominance

heart masterlist, pervious chapter, next chapter

Despite being an early riser most days, you didn’t wake up until after noon, and even by then, you weren’t pleased with the intrusion of light in your apartment. You whined into your pillows, tossing in the too-warm bed before deciding that you had to get up and get ready. Your entire body ached as you changed from your soft silk pajama set into a light pastel mini dress. You pulled a matching cardigan out of your closet and threw it onto your unmade bed, ready and waiting for if today's events led you to venturing outside.

You had shuffled around your apartment for almost half an hour, brushing out your hair and doing your makeup, bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet when one of your favorite songs played through the bluetooth speakers that you had synced around the small, but cozy space. You almost hadn’t heard the three knocks on your front door over the soft hum of the guitar instrumental and the pill bottle in your hand, but you did and your heart burst with uncontainable excitement.

You had been itching to see Natasha again since she’d left last night. So much so that even your dreams were plagued with fairytales of those soft green eyes and red hair. God, having your mates in your life was unlike anything you had imagined it to be. You were about to open the front door when your heart sank to her stomach. Natasha was great. She was darling, even. But she had brought somebody else with her this time, and even with the warning and explicit permission, your could feel the ache in your muscles increasing as your anxiety spiked.

So, you nervously peeked out the peephole, trying to calm your racing heart before it became a problem you couldn’t handle on your own. You could see Natasha, but whoever she brought with her was standing just out of sight. It took everything in you to actually answer the door and not retire to your bed for the rest of the day in a pile of embarrassment and dread.

“H-Hi.” You mumbled shyly, already fiddling with the hem of your short dress. You were glad that you’d opted for this one, because had it been any longer in length you would’ve been left to awkwardly twirl strands of brown hair around your fingers and cling to nothing but hope that your mates wouldn’t notice how they trembled.

Natasha smiled fondly at the girl in front of her. “Hi sweetheart, you look beautiful.” She noted, eyes trailing over the soft pink dress that you had picked out, though her amusement truly lied in the fact that on her Omega’s feet were mitch matched polkadot socks, one pink and the other blue.

You stumbled to find a response, ultimately coming up with a weak and bashful thank you. Natasha smiled fondly, though since last night she’d become aware of what the scent of anxiety was like on the Omega. She frowned, cursing herself for thinking this wouldn’t shake you. She was proud her girl had managed this far without stuttering over herself too bad though. It seemed like the girl had a habit of doing so.

“This is Bucky, sweetheart.” Natasha informed, though she knew you were well aware of who he was. Your eyes kept trailing over to him, but every time they got close enough to really look at his face your looked away sheepishly. Both Alpha’s were on fire, wanting nothing more then to mark the precious girl standing in the doorway.

“H-Hi. I’m Y/N.” You nervously greeted, holding your hand out for the assassin to shake. You were trembling, but the mantra of, ‘you’re okay’ repeating in your head was helping to keep most of the shivers at bay. Bucky smiled fondly at your, lifting the trembling hand to his lips, noting how cold the otherwise soft skin was.

Neither Alpha said anything about how long they’d been standing out in the hallway for, but you soon realized that for yourself and your face burnt with a gentle pink blush. Natasha giggled, stepping into the cozy space when you offered, immediately taking in everything she could.

The small apartment wasn’t overly clean and tidy. It was clean, cleaner then Tony’s room had ever been, but it was also lived in. You didn’t have dishes in the sink, but you did have cups and bowls on a drying mat not far away. There wasn’t any water around the dishware, telling Natasha that you had probably washed them and set them out to dry another day. The living room was all the same. A pair of slippers were thrown around, and there were two blankets on the couch, but other than that your jackets were either all put away somewhere else or hanging neatly on the back of chairs. It was a space that radiated your gentle energy, and selfishly Natasha wanted to absorb it and replicate it in the tower.

What Bucky noticed that Natasha had overlooked, was the open pill bottle on the countertop. His lips curled in concern, not wanting to overstep his boundaries and your comfort, but wanting to assure that his Omega was feeling above the weather. “You feelin’ alright, Doll?” He asked, and you traced his gaze back to the open tylenol bottle. You blushed red, shuffling towards the counter with a bowed head.

“Had a bad attack yesterday,” You summed up, looking unsure on whether you should continue before ultimately deciding that it wouldn’t hurt. “E-Everything aches afterwards and I fell asleep before I could take anything last night.” You spoke softly, and both Bucky and Natasha frowned thinking about how much pain you must’ve been in if you were digging through medicine cabinets looking for help.

Bucky nodded understandingly. Natasha had told them in detail about her day with you, and he might've been the one the most upset about your anxiety attack. The man was plagued with trauma from a handful of decades as a deadly weapon away from his mates. He understood your suffering probably the best besides Natasha.

“You have any water yet today, sweetheart?” Natasha asked casually, sitting down at your kitchen island when the younger girl led them over to the space. There was a clear Starbucks water cup sitting on the counter, looking like it hadn’t been touched, which was truly the only reason Natasha asked. She didn’t want to overwhelm the Omega with rules they hadn’t even discussed and agreed upon yet, though she would definitely make the three cups of water rule nonnegotiable.

You shook her head, blushing at Natasha’s question. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, or attention at all really. You didn’t know how you were supposed to react, or if you were allowed to react at all. “I only just woke up.”

Bucky laughed at that. He’d listened to Natasha drone on for hours the night before, rambling about all the ticks and traits she’d subtly picked up on, and she had confidently placed a bet with Steve that their early riser would remain bedridden until well into the afternoon. It looks like she’s just won herself ten dollars and a chance to top in their next session.

Natasha didn’t have to ask you to drink the water though, because before either assassin could say anything about the late wake up, you were putting her lips around the straw delicately and both of them wanted to groan aloud. Apparently Natasha wasn’t bluffing when she’d warned the men about your innocent and subconscious flirting.

“It’s pretty late to just be getting up, dorogoy.” Natasha hums, and she giggles at the way you let your shoulders relax at the pet name. Bucky doesn’t think you even noticed that your shoulders have been tense since you’d invited them inside, but nonetheless his heart warms seeing how you relax at Natasha’s gentle tone.

“That’s how it is after a bad attack. I don’t like getting up so late.” You spoke shyly, fiddling with the straw between your lips and avoiding both of your Alpha’s eyes. You still hadn’t taken the tylenol, and you weren’t sure why you suddenly felt apprehensive to in their presence. “Um, c-can I?” You motioned to the pills, trying hard to keep your cheeks from burning.

“Didn’t you just take them?” Natasha frowned. She could’ve sworn she heard the bottle rattling before you came to let them in. She’d been out of field practice for a while, but she didn’t think she’d started imagining the sound of half-full pill bottles.

You shook her head. “You knocked just as I got it open.” You mumbled, obviously embarrassed about your struggle with the child-locked bottle. Bucky couldn’t help his loud laugh that shook his chest, and both Natasha and you glared at him. Natasha because she wanted to laugh along with him, but knew it would set you on edge, and you because you hadn’t found your situation funny when your muscles already felt heavy. “‘s not funny, Buck!”

“I’m sorry, you’re right, Doll, it’s not funny at all.” He continued to taunt and you pouted deeper at him, huffing your chest outward in petty defiance. You had to admit the more he laughed the more you found amusement in the situation, but you were stubborn sometimes, usually in times when you’d gotten too little sleep and your body hurt.

“Stop teasing, the little one, Buck. If she pouts any harder I think she’ll pull the muscles in her lips.” Natasha teases, and you huff before breaking out into little giggles at their ridiculousness. God, you wished that you never had to leave this moment, although it would be better if your bones didn’t hurt and your head didn’t ache. “You can take them, baby. We don’t mind.” You nodded when you’d finally collected yourself, washing them down with a sip of the water. Your water that would become abandoned in only ten minutes when you moved on to fawning over a conversation with Bucky.

Natasha was watching her two mates fondly. Just after three, you had suggested that you start on lunch. Bucky had promptly refused, assuring that he and Natasha had already planned to take you out to a nice early dinner just before four. He’d quickly given into your plans when you’d persisted and batted your eyelashes at him, hardly even realizing that just your pout alone had changed his mind.

So, now the two were making sandwiches and salad. Bucky was dicing cucumbers, while you smothered two slices of white bread in peanut butter. Admittedly, you had never had a peanut butter and strawberry sandwich before right now, but the combination had sounded heavenly the minute that you’d heard it, and Bucky’s smile when you suggested it had made it worth it even if you would hate it.

“No, I still haven’t caught up on any films before the 2000s.” Bucky admitted, sliding the thinly diced cucumbers into the salad bowl. He’d made the mistake of getting you started on the topic of cinema and film, but seeing his girl come so far from the shy and stuttering Omega he’d been introduced to only a few hours ago made it worth it.

“B-But!” You looked up from the cutting board where you were slicing strawberries in half, completely flabbergasted by what you’d just heard. Bucky Barnes had been living as a free man for so many years, and he still hadn’t seen films like Tangled and The Hunger Games. A warning was on the tip of Natasha’s tongue to be careful, but it had happened just as the words surrounded the trio in the kitchen. Your lighthearted bantering had turned into pained whimpers and a sharp cry of pain when the cutting knife sliced your fingertip. “Fuck.” You sobbed, a good chunk of your finger ripped open by the sharp blade. Both Alpha’s hearts sunk at your pained whines, rushing towards you with a protective fire in their bellies.

“Let me see it, sweetheart.” Natasha cooed, but you shook your head, trembling as you cuddled the wound close to your chest, effectively smearing blood all over your pretty dress. That definitely wasn’t a good sign. “Y/N, let me see it, please.”

You shook her head again, tears falling down your cheeks in rapid successions. “It’s going to hurt!” You whimpered, pinching your eyes shut as you tried to ignore the dull throbbing beneath your skin. You hated cuts. You hated blood. It was right up there with your fear and hatred of needles. It seemed that as good as your recent days have been, they’ve had an obnoxious amount of bad and worse.

“It already hurts, doesn’t it, Doll?” Bucky asked calmly. He could see Natasha getting worked up, becoming emotional and fuzzy headed as she tried to refrain from fully letting her Alpha instincts guide her actions. It was still too early for that. You were still too timid and jumpy. They both needed more trust to be built before she could feel comfortable dominating her Omega in a domestic situation like this.

You whine, nodding your head with a trembling lower lip, looking empyrean and beautiful even in this moment. “D-don’t like blood.” You finally managed to tell them, which explained your pinched shut eyes and immediate avoidance to look at your still gushing and throbbing finger. It made both Avengers hearts sink.

“That’s alright. You don’t have to look, babydoll. Can I see it though? It’s bleeding pretty bad.” Bucky gently pulled your hand away from your chest, moving slowly to see if you resisted. He was more than happy when you didn’t, instead just bit your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut tighter. “Good girl, Doll. You're being such a good girl for us.”

You melted at the praise, subconsciously melting into Natasha’s embrace as the red-head stood behind you, looking over your shoulder at Bucky. He wasn’t all that worried about the injury. It wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, but where you had nicked yourself would be a bitch to let heal. He could imagine your clumsy actions causing the cut to reopen a handful of times before it would finally heal.

“Ow.” You whimpered when Bucky blew on the cut, his cool breath making a strange sensation travel up your nerves. It wasn’t pain that he inflicted, but it had shocked you still, and that was the first response your come up with. Bucky wanted to laugh at how cute you were.

“We’ve gotta clean it, Doll. How about you tell Natasha where you keep your bandaids, and I can rinse it so you don’t have to see the blood. Yeah? That sound like a good plan?” He asks softly, making sure that plan was good with Natasha as well. Both Alpha’s just wanted to coddle the Omega, but they were moving at your pace, and Bucky truthfully didn’t blame you if after this you kicked them out and spent the day alone. You had been through so much in the last few days, he could only imagine what that ache in her muscles felt like now. “Such a brave girl for us.”

“Um, b-bandaids are in my bedroom. T-They’re on my nightstand.” You stuttered, your words shaky and breathy. It broke Bucky’s heart to now know what Natasha had been talking about. Even when they’d first arrived this afternoon, your stuttering hadn’t been so harsh and breathy. The scent of anxiety and pain was overwhelming. It made Bucky’s chest tighten almost unbearably.

“Alright Doll, I'm just gonna run your finger under the tap, okay? It’s gonna be cold, and it’s gonna feel weird, but it’s not going to hurt. Okay? It should make it feel better.” You gave a reluctant nod, burying your face in the Alpha’s chest when he reached out to start the tap. You felt utterly pathetic, sobbing over a cut that in truth wasn’t that bad, but it was more than just the cut and the embarrassment that was weighing on your mind and your heart. You didn’t have to be alone anymore, you didn’t have to do things by herself and for yourself, but with that came the responsibility of committing to a pack. You had to let yourself be vulnerable and present in those relationships, and that went against every self preservation method that you had been perfecting and implementing since your mother passed away.

Truthfully, you just didn’t know what to do with yourself and that was overwhelming. You didn’t know what the right move would be for you, or what would send you spiraling with anxiety. You didn’t know your mates at all, but you knew that you wanted them happy and content. You wanted to feel that way too, and you did when you were with them, until all these feelings of uncertainty and anxiety came flooding back to you.

You hissed when the cold water splashed against your skin. The sound of the faucet running was loud and becoming overwhelming the longer it ran. You squirmed in Bucky’s embrace, whining at the discomfort in your body, digging your nose deeper into his neck and scent gland. Every nerve was on fire and the skin of your soulmarks pinched and burned. You just wanted quiet. And between the running tap and the music still playing, all you were being fed were loud obnoxious sounds.

“What do you need, Omega?” Bucky could spot the signs of a mate in distress the easiest, and his reasons for being able to do so were heartbreaking, but Natasha and the others had learned not to give him looks of pity. He was coming to terms with his past and his nightmares, all they could do for him was listen and be in the present.

You felt your finger being blown on and then dried off, most likely by a paper towel, then wrapped tightly in a bandage all in a few seconds. You hadn’t heard Natasha come back, but now that you weren't so blinded by the sound of the faucet you could recognize the second presence right beside you and Bucky.

“O-Overwhelmed.” You whimpered. The Omega opened her eyes for the first time in almost five minutes, trying to force down a wince at how bright the lights in the apartment had become. Bucky and Natasha frowned. You needed to drop, bad, but would you feel comfortable letting them help you? Natasha knew the answer was probably yes, but with conditions and restrictions that would almost definitely overwhelm you more than help you in this state.

You stumbled away from Bucky’s embrace, reaching out for your phone and turning off the music that neither Alpha had minded. Your knees almost buckled at the sight of the blood smeared across the countertops and floor, making the mistake of looking down at your chest.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Buck’ll clean up out here, dorogoy.” Natasha smiled comfortingly, seeing the greenish expression that overcame your face. Natasha made a mental note that blood was added to the top of the ‘things to desperately avoid’ list.

You nodded obidenty. You didn’t argue with either Alpha about being able to do it yourself, because in the moment, you didn’t want to. Your stomach was tight, your muscles ached, and being taken care of by Natasha was the most appealing option you had right now. The second would’ve been to collapse on your couch and take a nap, but you didn’t want them to leave. You liked the way their scents mixed together with yours. You liked the added heat they added to your small apartment. Taking Natasha’s hand when the woman reached out for you to take it, you didn’t try to hide how you melted at the touch and into Natasha.

Natasha waited until you were settled onto your bed before she closed the door, letting the sound of the running tap be blocked out by the wooden door. Your room was entirely your own fairytale space, and it made Natasha’s heart swell. The walls are a bright simple white, but there's not a space in the room that isn’t decorated by rainbow colors or greenery. Natasha’s absolutely in love with the squiggly full length mirror at the foot of your bed, covered in vines and positive messages. Your bed is pretty bare. Natasha had thought you’d be the type to collect stuffed animals, but you’ve kept it minimal it seems. Though your collection of pillows makes up for the almost bare sheets. You’ve got what Natasha assumes are comfort items, sprawled across your bed, and she smiles widely when she sees you reach and grab one of the small blankets.

“Can I ask you a question you might not like, sweetheart?” Natasha tested the waters, not wanting to be the final reason you force herself into a defensive headspace or even worse, Omegaspace. You’re working your way to a self-inflicted drop with or without her pressuring.

“Yes.” You verbalizes, getting the hint that it was the only answer Natasha wanted. When she was serious, she wanted to hear you say that you understood or that you agreed. Despite making your cheeks flush each time, you appreciated it. It made you feel safe, which was ultimately Natasha’s goal.

Natasha smiles, bending down so that you have to look down to meet her eye. Again, it lets the tension melt away from your stomach, feeling like in this position, you aren’t so looked down on. You hold the power right now. “Do you feel like you need to drop?”

Immediately you shakes your head. You don’t think you do. You knows it’ll help to reset your emotions if you do drop, but you think you’re more than okay to continue without one. You just needs to slow down for a couple days, even if that means not seeing Natasha and Bucky, or even letting them do it for you. You know your limit with dropping, and you don't think you’re at it.

“Words, Y/N.” Natasha gently reprimands, laying your hands on your soft thighs. You’ve gotten lost in your head, and as cute as your dazed out expression is, Natasha’s not convinced.

“I think I’m okay for right now.” The Omega whispers shyly, grabbing her Alpha’s hands and twisting her rings around her fingers. “Just need to slow down. Tried to do too much today.”

Natasha nods, more than satisfied with your response. Her proud smile makes you fall into yourself, blushing happily at the wordless praise. “Do you need to slow down alone? Bucky and I won’t be mad if you need some time, mladenec.”

“Don’t want you to leave. C-Can I, Can I take a nap though? Please?” You hold onto Natasha’s hands desperately, not wanting the woman to leave you alone right now. You like this feeling; feeling calm and protected and nurtured. You like not being alone.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. But, I think we should get you out of these clothes first.” Natasha smiles, and so they do that. She helps you into a pair of sweatpants and a brown form fitted ribbed crop top, smiling sweetly at the tired girl in her arms that's only getting sleepier with every step back to Bucky. You’re crashing fast, the adrenaline from just a few minutes ago failing you and burning you out. Natasha had to stop having the unfortunate timing of meeting you on mentally exhausting days.

The third in command laughs aloud at the sight of you blinking slowly, looking between him and Natasha in content. You don’t say anything, just wound your arms around Natasha’s waist and digs your nose into her neck. Natasha rubs her hand up and down the small of your back, smiling when Bucky meets her eye.

“You have to eat, then you can sleep, dorogoy.” Natasha informed, leading you towards the kitchen island. The three of them wouldn’t all fit at it, but Bucky had no problem leaning across the counter so his two girls could have a seat.

“Not hungry.” You slur, dropping your head into your arms when Natasha pulls a chair out for you. Bucky’s lips pull into a lazy smile, his hands still working on plating the two strawberry and peanut butter sandwiches. Natasha’s sandwich is just peanut butter, and it’s already waiting for the red-headed women by the barstool closest to the wall.

“You’ve gotta have some of it, sweetheart.” Natasha says again, raising an eyebrow when you huff. The smaller girl doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate Bucky’s offering, just turns her head in her arms so her brown eyes can squint in Natasha’s direction. “You can pout at me all you want, love, but that sandwich needs to be eaten.”

You whine. You really weren’t hungry, but you didn’t want to disobey your Alpha, especially when Natasha already hadn’t believed you about not needing to drop. So begrudgingly, you reach for the sandwich, thanking Bucky despite your tight pout. You take a small bite from the middle, melting at the taste on your tongue. You don’t want to admit Natasha was right, and you needed to eat because now that you were your stomach felt empty, but you couldn’t help the content sigh that bubbled in your chest.

When the three of them were done with lunch, you dragged them towards your couch. Your eyes were burning, hardly open anymore as you craved sleep. Neither Alpha minded, instead helping you settle into the couch, your head on Natasha’s shoulder while you fiddled with Bucky’s flesh hand. It hadn’t even been six minutes before you were fast asleep, melting into both of your mates like you had never been anywhere else but their embrace.

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