four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)
summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.
word count: 1.8k
a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*
You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.
A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.
I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.
Hi beautiful in the mornings.
I'm sorry.
You're still my girl.
And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.
Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.
Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.
How many?
How many what?
His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.
Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.
It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.
"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.
"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"
He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.
"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.
He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.
"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.
Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.
You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.
"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."
Silence.
You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.
"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.
You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.
He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.
Two days passed before the first text came in.
"I'm sorry" is all it said.
You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.
At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.
Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.
More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.
Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.
Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.
You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.
You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.
Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.
You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.
You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?
Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.
What the hell? you thought, confused.
Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.
You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...
...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.
Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:
"Done"
And then:
"I love you!"
"I'll be looking for you 😍"
You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.
And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.
It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.
part two - coming soon!
taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444
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♡ Hook, line, and sinker (sub!abby // follower req)
Basketball!abby X nerdy reader
Next chapter
♡ ♡
Summary: Abby is the head captain of your college basketball team, a known player in more ways than one…but you knew her dirty little secret
Warnings: smut, MDNI, porn smidge of plot, sub!abby, top!reader, cunnilingus, fingering if you squint, abby is sub inexperienced, abby is a whiny little sub, author enjoyed thoroughly, no y/n, no physical description of reader
A/N: first req!! So thank you for sending it in. Hopefully this will hold y’all off till I can get out a full fic :// (this was supposed to be a drabble and I got carried away oopsies). Psa wrote this at 2am so it’s probably a MESSSS
♡ ♡
She was dangerous force, intimidating just by the sheer sight of her. She was the kind of girl that people walked on the other side of the road when she was coming, afraid of what would happen if she snapped. Hell even the girls on the court would run from her, and not in the way the game was supposed to happen, they just knew she broke bones.
Abby was brutal, she was a hard hit, she was uneasy to break… she was a fucking whiny sub.
No one knew that of course, none of the girls she tossed around like dolls as she rammed into them emotionlessly, it would ruin the reputation she had built, right?
But you knew.
She was embarrassed you ever saw that side of her, but fuck did she need you. Only you could let her beg and plead to let her cum after denying her over and over again. Only you were allowed to see that pretty pink pussy drenched in slick that ran down her muscled thighs. Only you ever made her cum.
The situation she had you in was less than practical. Abby begrudgingly asked for your help in physics since you were undeniably the smartest in the class…oh if she would’ve know the things you’d teach her. 
You weren’t her type, she liked easy girls, the ones that threw themselves at her so she never had to even try, open up to anyone. Some girls had pressed for more, to which she’d move on to the next.
You…you were difficult, hard to read. She was surprised you didn’t use the chance of meeting with her to study to get a good fuck out of her. You were strictly business, even when you couldn’t stop thinking about what she would look like with her legs wrapped around your head.
♡ ♡
That day had started just like the others, abby sprawled out on your tiny dorm bed while you sat neatly across from her, textbooks giving needed separation between the two of you. She always felt the need to dominate every space she took up. If only you could just break her…
“I- I don’t fucking get this. I’m not going to.” Abby says dragging her large hand cross her face. She was usually frustrated when she came to you, but today was the worst you’ve ever seen. She’d leave in a much better place than you had started, but after 3 hours there had been an unusual lack of progress.
“You’re not using your head,” you say growing impatient. You let out a sigh of equal frustration, knowing you’d have to break down the first wall of unspoken territory with her, “what’s wrong with you, you seem off today.”
She returns a scoff back at you, head tilting up to meet your eyes, “I’m fine.”
You shake your head knowingly back at her, “Abby you-“ you begin to protest as she cuts you off defensively, “I said I’m fine. Now are you actually going to teach me? Or would you like to keep interrogating me?”
Your mouth opens in anger. She wants to play this game, let’s play. “Don’t come at me because you were too busy fucking the entire woman’s soccer team last night to be prepared for this midterm.”
“Why the fuck do you care what I do,” she barks back with just the same vengeance.
You laugh at her blatant assumption, “I didn’t say I did.”
“Then why are you breathing down my neck,” she says narrowing her eyes on you, in an almost curious gaze, still laced with anger.
“I just think you should worry about yourself more than making half of Yale’s female population come.”
She returns a breathy laugh, shaking her head turning away from you, “and you don’t think I get off?”
You cross your arms with a testing gaze on the profile of her face, she couldn’t even look at you talking about herself that way. “I know you don’t.”
“And how the hell would you know that.”
“You’re so fucking tense I’m sure you haven’t gotten off in years, can’t even let yourself do it.” You watch as she twists her fingers around themselves nervously, still unable to meet your eyes.
“Y- you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says unsure, barely above a whisper.
Any assumption you had made had been completely checked off now, and you were ready to completely destroy her. Before you could make out a rational thought your hands were at the textbooks in front of you, the separation between you and your weary opponent. You moved everything off onto the desk next to your bed, closing the once necessary gap.
“Come here,” you say as she finally meets your gaze again. “W-what?”
“You heard me, lie down completely,” you demand, and she reluctantly agrees, unsure of her fate.
You make your way to the side of her, brushing your bare knees against her side which causes her to flinch as her fists are closed tightly next to her.
You place a hand on her abdomen first, trying to ignore the chiseled muscle beneath her black tank, “have you been touched here?”
“Yes.”
You then move your hand to the bicep caged around the outline of your legs, she was sure not to make direct contact, “have you been touched here?”
“Yes.”
You move the same hand to her cheek, cupping the sharp line of her jaw, her eyes now drowning in yours, the anger that had held her down now disappearing. “Have you been touched here?”
“Sometimes. N- not often.” Her gaze falters, fluttered down out of your reach at the vulnerability.
Your hand drags down to her neck, this time you let it roam, dragging your fingers across her pulse, “and here?”
“No.”
You click your tongue at her, “shame,” bending down on your knees to scatter slow kisses up the throb in her neck. You feel as she squirms slightly beneath you, “such a sensitive area, really,” you say returning upright, dragging your fingers down to her raised nipple, hardened by your kisses.
“Here?” You lay light circles around the heightened bud as her mouth falls open, quickly closing it with her top teeth on her lip to make sure she doesn’t crack.
She shakes her head rapidly in response, eliciting a giggle from your throat as you move to her other nipple, sure to give it just as much attention.
You let your hand drag down to the seam of her sweats, toying with the exposed skin between her shirt and pants with your fingertips. You watch as her teeth let the grip of her lip go and her head fall back to the ceiling.
The tips of your fingers ease under the sweats over her boxers, inching your way in till your hand cups her mound to which she lets out her first groan of satisfaction “Have you been touched here, Abby?”
“Fuck- no. never.” Her chest rising and falling heavily now, unable to catch her breath.
“You want me to touch you there abby?”
“Please- please touch me there,” her fist that was caged around your bent legs now gripped into your thigh, large hand almost completely engulfing your leg.
“Well since you asked so nicely, take off your pants. Only your pants.” Within seconds she had them down to her ankles, ripping them off and discarding them to the floor. Her hand returned to your thigh, eyes now trained on you.
You moved your hand back to her mound, covered by her black boxers. You began rubbing down to feel how soaked she was, pooling already. You wouldn’t give her much, not yet, only rubbing slow and soft stripes up and down to hear her breathy moans from the stoic woman.
“Does that feel good?” You ask her doe-eyed as she stare’s pathetically up at you, so needy for anything you’d let her have. “Y- yes.”
“Take off your boxers.” With the same enthusiasm she rips them down at your command, returning her gaze back to the ceiling, still embarrassed at her vulnerability but unable to stop herself.
“Open up those legs for me pretty girl,” you say rubbing your palm up her thigh.
“You can’t talk to me like that… I- I’ll come” she breathes out, bucking her hips slightly into the air to no sense of relief.
“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you let out a small giggle at her admission, continuing to rub in her inner thigh.
“Y-ou don’t h-ave to- I’m close enough.”
“Awh pretty baby, all from some talking?”
She continues to buck her hips in hopes that your hand will meet her in the middle. “Please touch me before I finish.”
She had been so good, so pliable, so you honored her wish by placing your fingertips to her raised clit, soaked by her arousal. “Oh fuck!” She yelps, raising her hips into your touch, the hand on your thigh digging crescents into your soft flesh.
“So swollen, just for me?”
“Yes! Yes! Fuck- don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she begins to plead. You know she won’t last much longer. And you had to taste her.
You whip your legs around her backwards to straddle her, getting a perfect view of her sopping wet cunt, pretty pink lips coated in white slick. You lick a fat stripe down her slit, tongue pointing into her leaking entrance to get a taste of her.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” she begins to babble as you lap at her hole. She moves her wide hands to grasp at your covered ass in search of stabilizing herself.
You return to her swollen bud, immediately sucking it into your mouth, pulsing it systematically as you hold her wavering thighs open.
“I- im- FUCK-“ she begins to shake under you, whimpers flying out of her as she bucks into your mouth, riding out her early orgasm.
She continues to shake as you try to suck every last bit of her climax out of her, letting her revel in her pleasure. You wish you could talk her through it now, but you’re sure she’ll let you do it over and over again.
As cries of overstimulation flood her voice you let off her clit with a pop, eliciting one last whine from her throat. You return next to the half naked brute, right back to where it started.
She hops of the bed and lazily returns her clothing back to her body.
“No one hears of this. No one.” She says with a pointed look, deep into your eyes.
Ah, the reputation must be upheld. Whiny fucking sub.
Follower req by: @ghgygd
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow
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A Single Daffodil || 2
Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Rating: 18+ minors DNI
Word Count: 9.1K
Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi
Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut
Author's Note: hi everyone! it's currently exactly 2am for me lol but I wanted to get this chapter out today! i was hoping to having the wedding happen but I like it more for the next chapter. all the support has been so overwhelming and amazing, thank you guys so much for all the love!! i appreciate it so much and I'm grateful that you all are so supportive, especially for my first ever fic. i really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! also, just let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!
Taglist:
@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling
previous / masterlist / next
You could feel your eyes glazing over with the amount of time you’d spent staring at your computer screen. A quick glance at the clock showed that only a couple hours had passed since you’d arrived at work, and a devastating thirty minutes remained until your lunch break. Rubbing at your tired eyes, you tried to find the energy to resume reviewing the materials your team had sent you, but you came up short.
The wedding planning had been taking a lot out of you the past couple of months, even though your mother wasn’t letting you decide anything for it anyway. She had been quite clear that all you had to do was show up and that your input wouldn’t be needed. You couldn’t honestly say you had an issue with that, this didn’t feel like your wedding anyway. If it were yours, you would’ve been getting married to someone you love, and crucially, someone who loves you in return.
But that wasn’t in the cards for you and you knew that well, so you went along with your mother’s planning placidly, agreeing to almost everything she mentioned and getting ignored on things you didn’t. It left you exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It felt like an out-of-body experience every time your mother pulled you into another appointment for your dress fittings or makeup and hair test runs. You could feel yourself simply going through the motions and just waiting until the appointment was done so you could return to your mundane life.
Not much else had changed, honestly. You were still working, hanging out with your friends on occasion, reading in bed, and watching television in the evenings. The only thing looming over you was the date of the wedding, now only six months away. It felt like an omen, always hovering near you, spiking your heart rate, and making you sweat.
Even your team had noticed your heightened anxiety and expressed their worries to you, especially the youngest, Choi Song Ha. She was a cute, young thing, a fresh face in the industry that you had quickly taken under your wing once you had set eyes on her in the new recruit orientation you visited just over a year ago now. You knew just how quickly the gaming industry ate up and spat out women like clockwork and you didn’t want the same fate for her, so you’d snatched her up into your team. She truly felt like the little sister you’d never had and your bond quickly grew over the months since you’d met. She had picked up on your dampened mood and resolved to leave you small treats of a chip bag or chocolates on your desk every other day or so as a means to cheer you up. She knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t appreciate outright signs of concern or making a scene at work, and you loved her for it.
She had left you a small red ginseng jelly this morning with a doodle of a grumpy cat stuck to it on a post-it note. It made you smile every time you glanced at it.
It kind of reminded you of Yoongi. The two of you hadn’t talked since that night in the restaurant, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to talk to him. Your mother had given you his number and you’d saved it, but you hadn’t made any move to message him.
“Team leader?”
You turned, snapping out of your daze to face another one of your team members, Yeonsik.
“Yes, Yeonsik,” you responded, trying to appear calm and collected, and not like you were just thinking about your soon-to-be husband who hates you.
“We have the materials from the character graphics department for Plan C ready, it’s in your inbox now. They said that they’re ready to make any changes you want, but they’re worried about the deadline for the second draft,” Yeonsik rambled. He was a nice man, only a few years younger than you, and quite passionate about his job since joining your team two years back, just after you’d become the team lead of Planning Group 1. He had a handsome face with longer, dark hair and bright eyes that were eager to please.
“Okay, thanks for letting me know. Also, good job on keeping Graphics 2 on track, I know they’ve been giving us a hard time with getting the updated designs over. Thanks again,” you said politely, sending him a small smile. Yeonsik beamed in response and returned to his seat happily. You chuckled fondly at his antics before opening the file he’d sent. You loved your team members and you held a high respect for them. You knew you led them well and that they respected you in return. It was a small team, consisting of only five people, including you, but you were content with the group and the dynamic. You often went out for drinks together after work, usually followed by karaoke and at least one member passing out, most often Yeonsik, who would then be picked up by his boyfriend. You were a close-knit group and you couldn’t imagine a better job.
Slowly, Mrs. Min’s words crept back into your mind at the thought of how much you loved your position. Surely, Yoongi wouldn’t expect you to quit your job? You wouldn’t be able to bear it.
No, he said that he would do his thing and you would do yours, you reminded yourself. That’s right, you’d agreed that you wouldn’t interfere in each other’s lives. Except, you hadn’t really agreed, had you? You’d just acquiesced because he’d been in the motion of leaving anyway. You weren’t really sure if that’s what you’d wanted, living separate lives and being married only on paper.
Yoongi’s words rang clear in your head as you gnawed on your lower lip, was this really how this marriage was going to be? The two of you not even acknowledging each other except at galas and parties where you had to appear married? You didn’t want that.
But…if Yoongi did, how much say did you really have? As much as you wanted to make this work, it had to be a two-way street. If Yoongi didn’t want anything to do with you, you would have to accept that and just try to get through this the best you could. You had said to Joohee that day you’d found out, that there’s nothing you can do to stop him.
It felt painful to come to terms with, especially in the environment of your office where you still had to appear professional. Thankfully, you breathed, none of your team members had noticed your mini-mental breakdown.
Your phone buzzed with a new message from Yujin, your mother’s assistant.
From Yang Yujin
Hello Miss Y/N,
Your mother has asked me to confirm your three attendees for your wedding invitations. The invitations will be sent out on Friday night, so please send your three names with their contact information and address to me by then. If possible, please send it at least one day beforehand as Mrs. Seo would like to review them before I send the invitations out.
Additionally, she has set up another meeting for you with Mr. Min Yoongi on Friday, at 6 pm. Please find the location details below.
Please let me know if you need any other information,
Yang Yujin
You sighed, reading over the email again. For one, you honestly didn’t even know who you’d want to invite. You didn’t really have that many friends outside of Joohee, your colleagues, and Jung Hoseok, your friend from college. You knew that Joohee would already be invited, but you weren’t sure about Hoseok. He wasn’t a part of the same social circle as you and Joohee, especially since he didn’t come from a richer family, but you’d met him in college and introduced him to Joohee soon after. The three of you had been practically inseparable during your undergrad but after graduation, the three of you hadn’t met up in person in a while, with Hoseok in Busan for work. You tapped your chin thoughtfully with the eraser end of a pencil, maybe you should send an invite to Hoseok. Suddenly, another thought occurred to you, making the pencil drop from your fingers and onto your lap.
You hadn’t even told Hoseok about Yoongi!
“Damn,” you muttered, making a mental note to call him later today. You’d figure out the other invites later. Your eyes drifted to the second part of the email.
Another meeting, huh? It sounds like it’ll be just the two of us this time. I wonder if he’ll be any different.
A rap of knuckles against your desk brought your attention back in front of you. Song Ha stood beside your chair, looking at you curiously, “It’s lunch, Team Leader. Want to grab something with the team downstairs?”
Shit, you had agreed to grab lunch with Joohee today.
“No, Miss Choi, I’ll be meeting a friend of mine. But you all enjoy your lunch!”
“Alright, have fun!”
The team slowly filed out, discussing amongst themselves what they’d get from the cafeteria today. You almost longed to go with them, but you knew you had to tell Joohee about the email you got.
You could feel a headache coming on.
Sighing, you stood and gathered your things into your tote bag, never having liked purses, and started the walk towards the elevators to reach the quaint cafe across the street you and Joohee liked to frequent.
You had arrived before Joohee, which was to be expected with your office right across and decided to grab a table for both of you. Setting your tote bag in the seat beside you, you read the email once more on your phone. It dragged another sigh out of you before you almost jumped into the air at the sound of Joohee’s voice.
“What’s got you so melancholy?’
You breathed out to calm your heart rate from the mini jumpscare and looked up at her. She was dressed a bit more formal than you in a light blue blouse and dark navy dress pants that fell gracefully in silk around her long legs with a maroon purse hanging from her shoulder. Her office was much more formal than yours, working under her father. Your own office often had team leaders and higher-ups in jeans, the nature of your work making it more casual, so you contrasted her in a simple black sweatshirt and blue jeans.
“I have to meet Yoongi again on Friday.”
“God damn.”
You nodded somberly as she took her seat across from you, “You remember what happened last time? Why does it feel like he’s gonna eat me alive this time?”
Joohee looked at you suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.
You recoiled, shooting her a glare, “Good God, woman, not like that.”
Joohee relented, waving her hands in surrender, “Okay, well, assume he’ll be the same. Then you won’t be caught off guard. But I think you should still try to get through to him. Maybe, at the very least, you guys can become friends.”
You hummed in agreement, what she was saying made sense. You weren’t exactly hoping for a rom-com drama-like romantic relationship, but being friends wouldn’t be so bad.
A waiter arrived, taking your drink and food orders, and you and Joohee fell back into easy conversation about your jobs and other small gossip. As much as you were trying to pay attention to what Joohee was saying, you couldn’t help your mind returning to Yoongi and his dark eyes scrutinizing you and his cold, biting voice.
“Y/N?”
You focused back into Joohee and her concerned stare dug into you, “What?”
“Are you still thinking about Yoongi?”
You nodded, looking away. You felt bad for not listening to her especially when she had basically given you a solution to your anxiety regarding Friday. You heard her sigh before speaking.
“Listen, Y/N, you can’t stop how he’s going to behave towards you. You can only control how you respond. I think your best bet is to try to tell him you’re not expecting him to treat you like a wife, but you want him to treat you like a friend. Unless that isn’t what you want.”
“No, it is,” you said, keeping yourself from burying your head in your hands, “And you’re right, that’s all I can do. Why didn’t you become a therapist, again?”
Joohee only grinned in response, “I’m too pretty.”
Joohee’s words from earlier echoed in your head for the rest of the workday. Did you really want him to treat you like a friend? Or something more?
You weren’t sure. Of course, you had this half-crush, half-infatuation with the man since you’d met him when you were younger, but marriage was a totally different game. Were you really ready to spend the rest of your life with a man you were attracted to but he couldn’t feel the same?
Maybe he could.
You knocked that thought away as soon as it entered your mind, you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. You knew that Yoongi was less than happy about the situation and the unfavorable circumstances would only serve to further distance him from you. You would have to be okay with just being friends if that.
As you paced around your apartment later that night, you stopped in front of your dresser in your bedroom. In the third drawer from the top was the handkerchief that Yoongi had given you when you were younger. You had kept it meaning to give it back to him, but you had barely seen him since then, let alone had a moment in private to give it to him.
Most of your interactions had been minimal conversations at parties and galas, often accompanied by Joohee and Seokjin. You couldn’t recall a time when Yoongi had actually talked to you directly in any of those scenarios. So why did your crush persist?
Maybe it was the innocence of your first meeting, the cliche of it all. You, small, sad, and alone, and Yoongi, showing up like your knight in shining armor. You had had a fascination with him since then, always trying to seek out his silhouette or pitch-black hair at gatherings afterward. Yet, he never approached you alone, nor did you make an attempt to do so yourself. You had called it an infatuation with Joohee because it really was, you didn’t really know anything about him, much less had a full conversation with him. Even when you were in a group with him, Seokjin, and Joohee, he would barely acknowledge you.
Not that he was obligated to.
You fell back onto your bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a soft grunt when you hit the mattress. Would you be able to survive actually getting to know Yoongi? Your greatest fear was that you would fall in love with him, you were basically already primed for it. And that would not work out, you knew that, and you refused to consider any other outcome.
You couldn’t afford to get your hopes up.
Turning on your side, you could feel your thoughts drift to your few interactions with him growing up. He had always been polite, but cold. The most he’d said to you was a curt greeting and the barest of small talk. The only other interactions you’d really had were your first meeting and hearing about his escapades through the grapevine, mainly Joohee. Nonetheless, you found yourself infatuated, your eyes finding his slightly round cheeks and pouty lips inevitably. What would life be like once you got married?
You tried to imagine yourself in a domestic setting with Yoongi but quickly shut that down, that would only bring up unwanted feelings. You considered whether or not he would continue seeing other people after you were married. Joohee had said it was very possible. Would you be able to handle it? Joohee had suggested that you fool around a bit yourself but you had quickly dismissed that. Cheating was something you would never tolerate in a relationship, from the other person or from yourself. You knew that the reality would be different in your situation, but you still refused to let yourself stray from Yoongi.
Not that you hadn’t tried in the past. You had been in only two relationships leading up to now, one in college and another as a short burst after graduation. It all felt pointless when you knew you wouldn’t get to choose who you spent the rest of your life with. It was an agony that, along with other factors, ended both of your relationships. Mina had been a bright spot in your life, but she couldn’t deal with the fact that you were not only not out to your parents, but that you would likely not be able to be with her long term anyway. There had been other signs that the relationship wouldn’t work out, and you had tried to remain friends but it didn’t pan out past college.
The relationship after college that had only lasted a few months was with Jaehyun, a sweet man who had been your coworker at your first job out of college. He was very kind to you and you felt comfortable in his presence, but you couldn’t handle the guilt of going out with him while knowing he wouldn’t be the one you marry. To his credit, he had been very understanding when you’d broken down in front of him in a guilt-fueled spiral. He’d held you until you calmed down, wiped your tears, and squeezed you tight before leaving, stating that you could always call him if you needed anything. You still messaged him sometimes, and you remained firm that if you did get to choose who to marry, he would be your first choice.
The arranged marriage had been looming over your life since you were old enough to understand the importance of status to your family. You were sure Yoongi’s family was the same. You were both expected to keep your duty to your family, a repayment for the comfortable life you both had lived. Once or twice you had considered telling your parents you wouldn’t go through with it when the time came, but you knew that it would only result in you having to pay them back for everything they had ever given money towards for you. Even though you’d gotten multiple scholarships for college, your parents insisted you go to a prestigious university that rarely gave any money to their students because they knew their parents would have wide-open wallets. There was no way you’d ever be able to pay that back in your lifetime, especially with your current job.
So you were stuck. But you knew you weren’t really all that unhappy. While the circumstances weren’t what you preferred, you couldn’t deny the small excitement that you felt at the prospect of being able to have a relationship with Yoongi. The caveat to that was also knowing that he was an entirely unwilling participant in this situation, which wasn’t really going to work to your advantage. You were set on remaining a realist, refusing to consider the idea that Yoongi might come to love you. It felt like you didn’t have much of any other choice. Everything about this entire situation made you feel like a passive observer, someone with no impact or voice, which wasn’t far from the truth. You imagined Yoongi was much the same.
Distantly, you wondered how many people Yoongi was allowed to invite to the wedding.
Speaking of! You had almost forgotten to call Hoseok, and it was getting late. You scrambled to reach for your phone, stretching your arm out to the nightstand where your phone sat, and grasping it. Dialing his number, you registered how low his contact was on your recent calls. You really needed to call him more often. Hitting his contact, you waited for the ringing to start. He answered rather quickly, which surprised you, as he was usually an early sleeper.
“Hey, Y/N! It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has. I missed you. Hobi,” you said, not realizing how much you meant it until the words left your mouth. It really had been too long since you’d called.
“What’s up? You don’t sound too happy. Is everything okay,” he questioned, and your heart warmed at his concerned nature. He was always able to read you well, better than Joohee sometimes.
“Yeah, everything’s fine I guess. I’m getting married, actually.”
The other end of the line was silent for a bit before you heard Hoseok let out a breath and speak, “Oh, wow. Okay. How are you feeling?”
You choked out a laugh, “You’re not even asking who I’m marrying?”
“Well, I know that it’s not someone you chose. So I want to know how you’re doing. When did you find out?”
Your laughter died at his serious nature, your attempt at lightening the mood unsuccessful, “About two months ago. The wedding’s in around six. Want an invite? I get a whole three guests of my own choosing.”
He chuckled softly at that, “Of course I do, you know I’ll be there. But seriously, how are you feeling about this?”
You almost sighed at his unwillingness to let you escape his question, “I don’t know, honestly. I really don’t. I think I’m weirdly at peace with it? I’ve been expecting it for so long and now it’s finally happening. Plus, it being Min Yoongi isn’t exactly the worst thing ever.”
You could hear his surprise over the phone, “Min Yoongi? Like your crush of almost two decades, Min Yoongi?”
You groaned, responding, “Jeez, way to remind me how old I am. Yes, that Min Yoongi. He’s definitely not as okay with it as I am though.”
“What do you mean?”
You recounted the past meeting with his family to Hoseok while he patiently listened and interrupted occasionally to provide his own thoughts. When you finished, you could practically see him falling back against his desk chair, exhaling a burst of air.
“Well, that’s a lot.”
You let out a short laugh, “Yeah, that’s been my life for the past couple of months.”
“I think Joohee gave you some good advice. I’d probably say something similar to you. Try to make the most of the situation but don’t expect a lot from him. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, you’re probably right. But, enough about me, how are you doing? How’s work?”
Hosek launched into recapping how busy the dance school he taught at had been lately and the gossip surrounding his coworkers. You felt yourself relax more into the conversation and slowly forget your troubling feelings surrounding Yoongi.
You would deal with those come Friday.
It was Friday. You made sure to leave work a bit early, giving you enough time to run back to your apartment to change and look presentable. You had chosen your outfit with Joohee’s help the night prior. You were meeting at a relatively fancy restaurant but it was more of a bar, so you didn’t want to be too formal. You had opted for a green dress with a small flower print since you were coming off the winter months into spring. Your dress was an A-line cocktail dress with a square neckline and puffed sleeves that cinched at your wrist. You’d had it for a while and knew how it looked on you, and you knew you would feel comfortable in it tonight. The last thing you needed weighing on your mind was getting in your head about how you looked, which you usually felt nauseous from.
With it approaching six, you quickly finished up some minimal makeup, topped it off with a lip tint, and tried your best to make your hair look presentable after what was a long day of work. A glance at your watch told you that you didn’t have much time left, so you rushed to your car, almost forgetting your small purse, and started your drive over to the restaurant. You didn’t want to be late and make a bad impression on Yoongi, although you didn’t know if his impression of you could get any worse.
After you arrived and were sat at your table, you checked your phone to see the time and were relieved to note that you were a couple of minutes early. You felt yourself relax into the booth and started taking slow, calming breaths to slow down your racing heartbeat. The adrenaline of trying to get to the restaurant on time was starting to fade and you took another glance at your watch.
6:06
Well, that’s fine. He’s probably just a little late, you tried to reassure yourself, but you had a sinking feeling. As the minutes marched on, the sinking feeling grew deeper, and you could feel yourself growing slightly annoyed.
6:29
Well, whatever.
You took out your phone from your purse and decided to message him. It should be reasonable, right? You had scheduled this beforehand, after all. Well, not you, your mother, but still, the principle held.
You:
Hi Yoongi-ssi, this is Seo Y/N. I’m waiting at the restaurant at the moment
and I was wondering if you were alright, since you weren’t here yet? Please let me know if you’d like to reschedule instead.
You winced at how the text message sounded more like an email between colleagues, but you weren’t sure how casual you were supposed to be with him. Before you could mull over the tone of your message more, you hit the send button and bit your lip as you waited for a response. Your fingers began to pick at your dress in a nervous habit and you kept your eyes trained on the restaurant entrance in case you spotted him.
Finally, at 6:42, you saw the head of black hair that had haunted your dreams as of late. He walked in calmly, looking slightly disheveled, but his lax pace didn’t betray anything about his tardy entrance. He looked infuriatingly attractive in a well-fitted suit with the tie loosened and the top couple of buttons undone. His eyes met yours as the hostess led him to your table and you smiled politely at him, receiving only a cursory nod in return. The waitress quickly approached as he sat down across from you and took his drink order, two fingers of whisky, while you asked for more water. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to drink, more that you needed to keep your wits about you for this dinner and alcohol would only make you feel nauseous in your already anxious state.
With the waitress gone, he turned to you and you felt yourself flush automatically, something you internally cursed. You wished he didn’t have such an effect on you. He declined to say anything, so you took a moment to take in his appearance now that he was much closer to you.
You could see that his collar was more rumpled than you initially thought and his hair a bit more mussed. You saw a small mark just barely visible from beneath his white button-up, above his tie. Now that he was much closer, you could smell a faint scent of a sweet perfume that you knew wasn’t yours since you had only worn a very light citrus one.
Oh. He was with someone else. Why does that bother me so much?
Finally, he spoke, his deep voice lulling you out of your trance of staring at the mark on his chest, “Sorry I’m late. I saw your text, but I was driving. To be completely honest, I forgot about this.”
For a moment, his apology surprised you. For some reason, you hadn’t expected him to apologize. Maybe you’d built him up to be this cartoon villain in your head after your last interaction, but you’d forgotten that he was human just like you.
“That’s alright, it’s no problem,” you responded kindly, noting the way his eyebrow slightly furrowed at your response, “How was your day?”
He raised an eyebrow at you in a questioning manner, “Are you really going to do small talk with me?”
You let out an embarrassed laugh at your failure to engage him and tried for a new tactic instead, “Okay, what would you like to talk about then?”
“I want to set some ground rules.”
Your surprise must’ve shown on your face because you saw the way his expression almost changed to amusement. You quickly shook off the abruptness of the statement and nodded your head, “Okay, like what?”
“First, you’ll be moving into my apartment. I’m sure your mother already told you,” you nodded, “Do not enter my bedroom or office without knocking. I’ll extend the same courtesy to you. Second, we keep our lives separate. Unless we need to appear at an event together, we shouldn’t be mingling our private lives, including friends, work, things like that. Thirdly, this marriage is going to be on paper only. Don’t expect me to treat you like my girlfriend, or my wife, because we both know that’s not what this is.”
You felt your teeth take in your bottom lip as you considered his words, “Okay, that’s fine, I guess.” You couldn’t really stop him from wanting to do that, but it still hurt some. Any hopes you had of getting a normal romantic relationship after this were quickly dashed by his next rule.
“Lastly, I want this to be open. Our parents aren’t pressuring us for kids, so we can both find relief elsewhere. We both know this is only for increased stocks and influence in our respective companies. So, I do whatever I want and you do whatever you want in that regard, and we don’t interfere in each other’s love lives.”
You felt your face fall a bit, but you tried to control your expression. You had prepared for this, Joohee had prepared you for this. So why were you still so upset? He’s giving you the go-ahead to find whoever you want, so it’s not technically cheating. So why does it still feel so wrong?
“Okay,” you said uneasily, “That’s all okay.” It felt like you were saying it more for yourself than for him.
His eyebrow quirked once more. They were very expressive, you noticed.
“That’s it? You don’t have any rules of your own you want to add in?”
Your hands clenched onto the edge of the booth seat, needing something to ground you. Rules of your own? Your head was swimming with everything that had just happened, you could barely think of anything else, “No, none I want to add.”
Yoongi leaned back and clasped his hands, “Alright then. Shall we eat? My dad’s technically paying so eat all you want.”
You shakily took hold of the menu you’d already looked over a hundred times while waiting for him, not wanting to appear rude by being on your phone. You had already chosen what dish you wanted when Yujin had sent you the restaurant name, a habit of yours being to look up the menu beforehand to choose. The waitress approached and took your orders, taking the menu from your hands, leaving you with nothing to grasp your quivering fingers onto.
You looked over at Yoongi, seeing him on his phone, scrolling. You felt yourself blanch at the blatant disregard and couldn’t find it in yourself to try and start a conversation.
The minutes passed by slowly, and you were barely relieved when the food came, providing momentary respite by giving you something to do. You felt like you’d never been in a more awkward situation. The waitress quickly refilled both your drinks, and you noted that Yoongi had ordered water this time. It must be because he’s driving.
Soon, the both of you finished your food, in utter silence. The waitress, who was quite on top of her game, swiftly provided the bill and told you to take your time. You had a feeling she felt the awkward tension as much as you did.
Once the bill was paid, you and Yoongi walked out towards the parking lot where he started shifting to move in the direction of his car before you blurted out, “Wait!”
He turned, facing you with a bored expression, waiting for you to finish speaking.
“I do have a rule actually.”
Seeming slightly intrigued now, he gestured for you to continue.
“I want us to try and be friends. Please.”
He seemed slightly surprised, judging by the way his eyebrows lifted slightly and his mouth parted. Collecting himself, he looked directly into your eyes, his dark orbs boring into your own, “No. I want us to keep our lives completely separate. We’re not friends.”
With that, he turned around and walked to his car, not sparing you another glance.
“Wow, what an asshole.”
You hummed lazily in agreement, feeling your head lull. You were already a bottle deep in more cheap Moscato with Joohee, as well as a couple of shots of strawberry soju.
“I know right! I agreed to whatever he said, why couldn’t he agree with the one thing I asked for?”
Joohee winced and prepared herself for your buzzed anger that was sure to flare up at her next statement, “Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. It did conflict with his other rule. Not that I think he’s justified either. There shouldn’t be a problem in being friends.”
Your head snapped towards her, seeing it as a defensive move for Yoongi in your half-drunken state, but before you could find the energy to get upset, you felt yourself melt further into the couch, “Yeah, you’re right, I guess. Whatever, I don’t need him. I’ll just fuck anyone who looks my way, instead.”
“No, you won’t.”
“No, I won’t,” you cried, collapsing onto the pillow beside you, squeezing it tight, “Why am I so pathetic?”
“You’re not,” Joohee cooed, “You’re just in a shitty situation. So is he, but at least you’re not being a dick about it.”
You nodded glumly, still not feeling better about the situation. As you cradled the now-empty wine bottle to your chest, you remembered Hoseok.
“Oh yeah, I invited Hobi for the wedding. My coworker, Song Ha too. Can you believe I couldn’t think of a third person?”
Joohee laughed before throwing herself onto the couch with you, “Hey, you don’t need other friends, you have me. Besides, we’ll all be together again, then! It feels like forever since we’ve seen him.”
“Yeah, I told him and he said the same stuff as you. To try and make the best of it, or whatever,” you could feel yourself becoming less and less sober, “Can I crash here tonight?”
“Of course, do you want me to wash your dress for you?”
“No, I’ll just do it at my place. Thank God I have you.”
Joohee only laughed loudly in response, getting up to grab another bottle of soju from the fridge. The two of you lounged around before moving to watch TV in Joohee’s bed where she promptly fell asleep. Soothed by her snoring, you relaxed into her comfortable mattress and traced the light extrusions on her ceiling. Your thoughts soon drifted to Yoongi, as they seemed to do often these days.
Was he really fair in rejecting your friendship? Joohee had made a good point earlier in that it certainly conflicted with his rule of ignoring each other outside of obligated functions. But…you didn’t want that. So why did you agree? In the moment, it hadn’t really felt like you’d had another choice. You seemed to be feeling like that a lot lately.
Yoongi seemed serious about this marriage being for business only and you knew that you didn’t want that, but you couldn’t exactly tell him as such. You couldn’t be more sure that he would only be disgusted if he heard you say that and you didn’t think you’d be able to survive seeing that kind of emotion on his face when it’s directed towards you.
Not that you’d be able to survive this marriage either.
Your fingers toyed with the frayed hem of the sleep shorts you’d borrowed from Joohee, a frequent occurrence whenever you stayed over, and you saw her shift in her sleep. She really had been so supportive throughout this whole thing.
Maybe you should go to her brother for help? No, Yoongi would probably hate that.
You resisted the urge to kick your feet in frustration out of fear of waking up Joohee. This was so difficult, it was next to impossible to figure out what your next move should be.
You had a nagging feeling that your mother wouldn’t force you to meet up with Yoongi anymore before the wedding, but why did that not feel like a clear-cut win? Did you want to meet with Yoongi again?
Rubbing at your eyes frantically, you pushed aside the flurry of questions stirring inside you. You didn’t have time to deal with this. There was a large project at work that was in its final stages that you needed your full attention on and then the final beta tests before the official launch, just weeks before your wedding. You couldn’t afford to spend another moment thinking about Yoongi.
As you got more comfortable in Joohee’s bed, you turned your head to face the clock on her bedside table, reading 3:09 AM.
A sigh escaped your lips as you forced your eyes closed to try and get some rest.
You had an inkling that Yoongi would be occupying your thoughts whether you wanted it or not.
“We’ll be meeting for the rehearsal dinner in one week, Yujin will send you the information and instructions. Don’t be late.”
Your mother’s voice cut off after that, not bothering to say goodbye before ending the call. You could feel your headache coming back and you fumbled for your water bottle before getting up to grab a red ginseng packet from the breakroom. Things had been a lot lately.
The final preparations for the wedding were underway and your mother was leaving nothing to chance. Your dress had been fitted to perfection with your mother sending you a strict diet and workout plan to make sure you stayed the exact same size until the wedding. That email had been swiftly archived.
You weren’t even sure of who was in your bridal party other than Joohee being your maid of honor. Not that it mattered. This wedding wasn’t for you anyway.
As you slowly sucked out the paste from the ginseng packet, leaning against the break room counter, you wondered if Yoongi had had to go through similar procedures, though likely less extensive. You hadn’t heard from him since that dinner where he’d firmly placed a boundary between you, but he’d rarely left your mind since. You’d hoped that the reality check with Yoongi might help clear you of your feelings for him, but, instead, they only deepened your desire to get to know him better, to break past that boundary. But you knew that those ideas were merely fairy tales and this marriage was not going to be one by any means.
Distantly, you wondered how the ceremony would go. The two of you hadn’t prepared any vows, nor were you expected to. This wedding was not a show of love and everyone knew that. Your parents weren’t concerned with making it appear as though you and Yoongi were a loving couple, no, this wedding was more of an excuse to show off their wealth and influence. Your nuptials were merely a byproduct. Still, would you have to kiss Yoongi?
You quickly shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the mental image, feeling your cheeks flush hot. Yet, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You imagined his lips would be soft and gentle, that he would lead you through the kiss and deepen it for more. His hands would come to rest at your waist before encircling it, pulling you closer, flush, to his body.
No! You can’t imagine that, you’re not allowed!
Internally, you scoffed. What kind of girl wasn’t allowed to imagine kissing her fiance? You knew the truth, however, that it wasn’t your place to imagine yourself in that position. That was reserved for the person he loved, who was, decidedly, not you.
Tossing the packet, you made your way back to your way back to your desk. Settling into the pillowed surface of your chair, you browsed through your emails before noticing one from the marketing team.
RE: MIRA’S AWAKENING Influencer Advertising
Hello Team Leader Seo,
We have decided that we would like to reach out to online influencers and streamers to assist in promoting Project Mira’s Awakening. A list of possible candidates is attached, along with their profiles and viewer analytics. We would like your input on any public figures you believe may be good candidates for this endeavor. Please reach out if you and your team come up with any candidates that are not already included in the attached file.
Additionally, we would like to create merchandise to provide for these public figures and we need to confirm with you and Graphics Team 2 on graphics we can include on merchandise items. You will find a list of items we are looking to make, along with graphics suggestions, attached as well. Please coordinate with GT 2 to send over finalized ideas and start creating the images.
Thank you,
Team Leader Lim
You considered the contents, feeling the eraser of your pencil tap against your lip, who could you suggest? You had your favorite streamers, but none aligned that well with the nature of the game you were producing, which meant the viewer base wouldn’t have enough crossover with your target audience. Running through a list of the streamers you watched regularly in your head, you stopped at one in particular.
Goldenboy97.
Jeon Jeongguk was quite popular and played enough combat-based games to have sufficient audience crossover, while still being intriguing for the puzzle aspect of the game. Not that you were biased, but he was your favorite creator at the moment. You jotted down his handle and a note to ask the rest of your team about their thoughts.
Leaning back in your chair, you stared blankly at the screen as the emails continued flooding in. Slowly, but surely, your thoughts drifted back to the phone call with your mother. The wedding was next week, with the rehearsal dinner only being seven days away.
You felt a strange combination of dread and giddiness, a swirl of emotional turmoil you weren’t ready to unpack. Hoseok was coming back tonight and you were picking him up from the train station. You’d probably have time to process your emotions then. Hoseok was staying at your apartment in the guest bedroom for a couple of weeks so he could be there through the whole wedding process. He had also mentioned looking for an apartment to move into in Seoul, which made you excited. You really wanted to have the college dream team together again.
The thoughts of the actual wedding were stoking your nerves, you still hadn’t talked to Yoongi since the last time you’d met. You weren’t sure of the protocol or if you should try to talk to him beforehand, especially about the ceremony. Too cowardly to act on your anxiety, you shut off your opened messaging app on your phone. You weren’t keen on finding out how Yoongi would respond to an unprompted message.
The sound of your team packing up alerted you to the time, being slightly past five. You joined them in getting ready to leave before heading to the elevator. The rest of the group trekked slightly ahead while Song Ha walked slightly slower to stay back with you.
“So, the wedding is next week. Are you excited?”
You chuckled nervously, “Yeah, you could call it that.”
“Ah, are you nervous? Makes sense. Just think, though, soon, you’ll be married to the love of your life! How exciting!”
Your insides felt queasy. You hadn’t told Song Ha about the nature of your relationship with your betrothed because you weren’t exactly sure how to explain it to someone who wasn’t familiar, nor did you want to deal with the embarrassment, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Where are you going for your honeymoon?”
You bit your lip, “Nowhere, actually. We couldn’t get time off of work at the same time.” The honeymoon had long been decided as an unnecessary expense, and neither you nor Yoongi complained. Being stuck with him for weeks after the wedding in another country sounded like a nightmarish situation. You wouldn’t have minded a vacation though.
“Gosh, that sucks. Hopefully, you’ll be able to do something over the summer, maybe,” Song Ha pouted, swinging her work bag in line with her step. You smiled at her naivete.
“Yeah, hopefully.”
“Hobi!”
You ran towards the taller man, throwing your arms around his upper body, “I missed you! It feels so nice to have you back in Seoul.”
Feeling his chest rumble with a laugh, you squeezed him harder before releasing him.
“Feels good to be back too,” he responded, a bright, heart-shaped smile adorning his face, “Let me get my bags to your car.”
“Oh, right, let me help,” you nodded, reaching for the bigger suitcase to roll towards your car. Hoseok easily picked up the duffel bag lying at his feet and followed behind you. You had opted for driving to the station since his train had come too late for the buses to still be running, and you didn’t want to have to deal with paying for or lugging his baggage into a cab.
After loading the luggage into your trunk, you both settled into the front seats of your well-worn car. You heard Hoseok chuckle while clicking in his seatbelt, “This certainly feels different from the drunk bus and taxi rides back to the campus dorms. Even if it’s about the same level as luxury.”
You rolled your eyes, “Hey, my car is reliable. The previous owner only had it for a couple of years before selling it off and she’s been perfectly good since then. Though, my mom would probably agree with you on the luxury bit.”
“Yeah, well, who wants to listen to her opinion anyway. Before I forget, thanks again for letting me stay at your place while I’m here, I know it’ll probably be annoying with the wedding prep going on.”
“It’s no problem, seriously. Besides, a lot of my stuff’s been moved over to Yoongi’s for when I move after the wedding. I’m just keeping my apartment there in case I need it since I won’t be paying rent at Yoongi’s.” Keeping the lease on your apartment had been a conscious decision because you had figured you’d want a safe space away from the marriage drama and it wouldn’t be an extra hit to your income. What your mother and Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
“Has he really paid off his entire apartment? You’re marrying a proper chaebol,” Hoseok joked.
You laughed lightly, a tinge of awkwardness at the idea that you really were, and you had no idea how he’d act in his own house. Tapping your fingers along the steering wheel, you tried to subtly change the topic, “Well, speaking of apartments, do you know where you’re going to be looking?”
Hoseok launched into a detailed plan he had for looking at rental properties in Seoul for both his apartment and the studio he wanted to open. You excitedly listened along, thrilled that he was planning on settling near you, as you drove to your own apartment.
After you’d parked, Hoseok insisted on taking the large suitcase, claiming that only he was strong enough to lug it up the stairs. You only laughed a little bit at his sour expression when you showed him the perfectly working elevator.
Punching in the code to your apartment, you swung open the door, making sure not to step food inside. A loud pop rang out and confetti sprayed out from the doorway.
“Surprise!”
Hoseok stumbled back, clutching at his chest and mouth agape at Joohee’s excited smile from inside the apartment, “Shit, Joohee, you scared me!”
You laughed loudly before grabbing his suitcase and rolling it inside, setting the duffel bag on top. Joohee began cleaning up the mess of confetti, Hoseok started to unpack what he’d need for the night, and you began unboxing the pizza that had arrived while Joohee was setting up.
As the three of you settled into your living room, Hoseok already teasing Joohee, you felt like a void in your heart had been filled. The last few months had been so stressful and it hadn’t felt like you’d gotten a break emotionally in so long. The sounds of your friends chattering and laughing made you feel at ease. So, naturally, Hoseok had to ruin that.
“So, Y/N, how are you feeling about the rehearsal next week? Or the wedding, for that matter.”
You shifted in your position on the loveseat, feeling yourself frown, “Um, I don’t know. I don’t know what to expect. I can’t believe I’ll be married in just over a week.” Letting out a nervous laugh, you continued, “I haven’t talked to Yoongi in like six months. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
You could feel yourself spiraling, but you had been holding in so many emotions that it felt like you couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “Honestly, I’m really scared. I don’t want this to be my life forever. I’m not ready, I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
Joohee got up from her spot on the couch to hug you, Hoseok joining soon after. Something about their touch comforting you pushed you over the edge, the dam broke, and tears began streaming down your cheeks. You sniffled pathetically, hating the level of vulnerability you were currently displaying. You hadn’t cried throughout this whole experience, but in the comforting presence of your closest friends, you couldn’t help it.
“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to marry him if it’s going to be like this. Why does my life have to be this way? Why can’t I be normal?”
Joohee and Hoseok only squeezed you in response, not having an answer to your questions. Your tears continued on until you couldn’t cry anymore and Joohee finally released you. She stood and smiled kindly at you, “Do you want me to get you anything?”
“Water, please,” you said raspily, throat dry from all the crying. Joohee nodded before heading to the kitchen, leaving you with Hoseok who had shoved himself into the loveseat to further comfort you.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, slightly muffled by burying your face in Hoseok’s soft, cotton shirt.
“You know you can always talk to us. I wish I could change this for you, that you didn’t have to do this,” he said softly, stroking your hair.
“It is what it is,” you said, feeling much more mellow now that you’d cried out all your overwhelming emotions.
“Still,” Hoseok insisted, “He has no reason to be such a jerk.” You shrugged, you felt the same but there wasn’t much you could do to change that.
Joohee returned with a cup of water which you gratefully took and sipped. Suddenly feeling quite exhausted, and a headache coming on, you tapped Hoseok to get off of you, to which he complied and clambered off the loveseat.
“Sorry guys, I’m just so exhausted now. I really appreciate you being here, but I think I’m going to head to bed,” you stated, hugging both of them, before starting to gather the trash to clean up.
Joohee laid a hand on your shoulder to stop you, “Go, get some rest. We’ll clean up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Hoseok exclaimed, and pushed you towards your bedroom, “Go to bed!”
Laughing, you acquiesced and headed into your bedroom to get ready to sleep. As you went through your nightly routine, you felt yourself feeling a bit calmer about the upcoming week. You had your two closest friends by your side.
You were ready to handle anything that Yoongi threw at you.
Probably.
Yoongi lightly swirled the glass of whiskey between his fingers as he sat at his desk in his brown leather chair. By this time next week, he would be getting married.
His eyes drifted towards the manila folder lying at the edge of his desk, a small water stain on the corner. Inside were the files on his soon-to-be wife, Seo Y/N. He took a sip of his whiskey, the smoky flavour traveling down his throat, as he considered his fiancee.
He didn’t know what to make of her. She just seemed so meek and obedient, which wasn’t at all appealing. He didn’t remember much of her from before the arrangement, aside from vague interactions between them and the Kim siblings. She had seemed quite timid then too.
Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, setting his glass on his desk. He didn’t want to do this marriage. It was a chore, really.
Yoongi didn’t necessarily have anyone he was looking to marry, but having to pretend to be exclusive with some girl he didn’t care about wasn’t conducive to the bachelor lifestyle he’d cultivated. He’d set his ground rules, and she’d agreed, pretty easily, another thing that irked Yoongi.
Couldn’t she stand up for herself? Or say anything at all that was her own opinion?
Yoongi drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, he supposed she had said something that night. She’d wanted to be friends. He hadn’t been expecting that.
He figured it might be some condition about how she didn’t want to work or for him to stop seeing other people, but, instead, she’d simply asked for his friendship. And he’d refused.
Of course he did, it went against his other rule. He wanted to keep his life separate from this artificial marriage and that included remaining nothing but acquaintances. He’d have to be steadfast, he decided. That night, when he’d seen your imploring expression with hope shining in your eyes, he’d almost agreed. He wasn’t sure why that was, or if he even wanted to know, but he couldn’t let it happen again.
Despite your docile and unassuming nature, you were dangerous. And you didn’t seem to know it, which made you all the more so.
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